"Never do anything when you are in a temper, for you will do everything wrong." ~Baltasar Gracian

I have a daily devotion app that gives me a verse and some thoughts on that verse every morning and every evening. Yesterday’s was “Don’t sin by letting anger control you. Think about it overnight and remain silent” (Psalm 4:4). This verse is particularly dear to me, as I do put in a great deal of effort to ensure that I control my temper, and not the other way around. I know that a moment’s release when I’m upset is not worth the hurt I could cause someone else. My philosophy is that if I’m yelling, I’m no longer in control. As a slight control freak who still sometimes struggles with even giving my issues over to God, that’s not ok with me. I’ve been around people who spew anger all over everyone like a negativity-breathing dragon. They lash out, claws extended, with no thought as to who they hit. I can’t be like that. I won’t. To that end, I’ve only actually yelled once in about 19 years. Not that it excuses my behavior, but it was while I was hugely pregnant and house hunting. My poor husband.

It seemed like an even more appropriate verse later that evening. I took M to a local park after I picked her up last night so that my sister (who is an AMAZING photographer) could take pictures of her with her cousins. I didn’t think to bring a snack, so when we had to leave, my 22-pound teeny tiny toddler erupted into a hangry fit. She backed away when I tried to pick her up to put her in the car, shaking her head and saying “No!” I picked her up, and she smacked me in the face. I told her that I understood she was angry, but we do not hit mommy. So she began smacking her arms and saying “Hit ‘syou!” (Hit “it’s you” – which is how she refers to herself). I told her she shouldn’t hit herself either, and she calmed down after a minute. Then, when I informed her that she needed to eat some dinner before she could have “ice cream” (blended bananas with vanilla and cinnamon), a chorus of angry “No! No! No! No!” ensued, followed by crying. I ignored the yelling in the backseat, and a few minutes later she began a new conversation with “Airplanes fly – way up there!” and was fine the rest of the way home.

Later, as we wound down for bedtime, she said to me “angry” and clapped her hands. I told her yes, we get angry sometimes. I explained that she can’t hit or kick, but she can clap her hands really hard if she feels like hitting, or she can say, “I’m angry!” She found that fairly amusing. I know she doesn’t get it all yet, but I think it’s so important to raise a child with a high “EQ” (emotional intelligence) and the ability to channel her feelings in a productive, or at least harmless, manner.

I didn’t think about it anymore until I read this article this morning before work. I felt sick. A four-year-old girl is dead – shot in front of her father and brother. And for what? Because someone got angry while they were driving and didn’t bother to make the attempt to curb their rage. Let’s take this apart. First of all, I know everyone gets annoyed when they drive. Unlike walking in a group of people, there’s no “sorry” forthcoming when someone accidentally cuts you off. No ability in some situations to go around if someone is being slow. And I get that. But unless you’re driving someone who’s bleeding to death to the hospital, chances are you say a few choice words and get on with your day (my favorites are “jeepers creepers!” and “son of a monkey!” if I say any at all).

How does anyone justify violence based on being inconvenienced for a few moments because of another person’s driving? How does that make sense to anyone? I can’t even understand having a heated confrontation over it, much less firing a gun into an occupied vehicle. I imagine the thought process, if there is one, is “this person did something I don’t like, so I’m going to punish them.”

Well, congratulations, Mr. Torrez. You’ve punished him.  Because you were upset about being inconvenienced for a few minutes, he will be in unimaginable pain for the rest of his life, as will his family, including his 7-year-old son who will likely be in treatment for PTSD for a large chunk of his life. A beautiful baby girl, gone. Because you didn’t think. Because you didn’t exercise self-control. Because you decided that a gun is a great way to solve problems. (No, I’m not trying to start a gun rights debate here – although I will say that if he hadn’t had one, Lilly would still be alive. I’m all for gun owner rights, but saying that they’re no worse than a knife – which is an argument I’ve heard – is truly ludicrous.)

When I think about controlling my anger, I generally think about not hurting others with my words. Teaching my daughter to think before she reacts. I saw it as very important, but didn’t think about it much. But if this story shows me anything, it’s that self-control is one of the most important things we can teach our children. It could save a life.