"The Parable of the Exploding Peaches," my lesson on anger...

I thought I was the perfect parent...

...and then I had kids :).

Parenthood is something of a refiner's fire, as Heavenly Father sends down children for us to learn more about who we are and what we need to become to be more like Him.  Our weaknesses seem to really come out as we are put into every possible scenario of being stressed, sleep-deprived, worried, upset...you name it :).  Of course, the positive moments make up for it, but you do find things out about yourself during those trying times.

One thing I discovered about myself was that I had a temper.  And it could be bad.

Without going into further humiliating detail, let's just say that I found it was a way to get things done.  When all else would fail, too often I found myself yelling or throwing things to get "attention" (and I got it, surprise, surprise) and whatever else my anger inspired.  It wasn't pretty.

I could blame all sorts of things for being angry.  I also knew it wasn't good.  It was one of those things that would make me cringe when I heard talks about not being angry.  I would resolve time and again not to do it, but would still default to it in times of stress.

Apparently, Heavenly Father knew that I needed something a little more dramatic than a Sunday School lesson.

One night a few years ago, as I was bottling, I put on the last batch of peaches after a long, long day of bottling, and decided to go to bed for a bit.  Generally, I can grab a snatch of sleep and be good again for a while.  Quinn, of course, counseled against it, but I was sure I would wake up in time to get the bottles off the steamer.


A couple hours later, we woke up to the sound of explosions.  It sounded like a blast, followed by shattering, and Quinn and I were instantly awake!  We both ran into the kitchen, and saw shattered glass and gluey peaches over every possible surface in the room.  He ran across the glass-strewn floor--at the risk of sliced up, burnt feet-- to grab the last bottle off before it, too, blew.  Apparently, the top of the steamer had blasted off earlier to land on the floor on the opposite side of the room after the water had evaporated and the pressure of steam had built up too much to contain it.  Six out of the seven jars were blasted open from the heat build-up.

Silence.

"I think I'll  clean this up in the morning," I said.  :)

Well, fast forward a few hours and it is morning.  The hot peach muck has solidified into hardened little mounds all over the kitchen and dining room, with little bits of glass all through it.  Hmmm...
I couldn't use rags...the glass wouldn't allow that. The only thing I could figure out to do was to soak it gradually with wet paper towels draped across a surface and then carefully try to get it up off the surface after it had soaked without cutting myself.

Needless to say, it took several hours.  The plastered peach-glass tidbits had found their way even behind appliances on the counter-top and into every nook and cranny that was exposed, no matter the angle.  It was even six inches in behind the fridge!

Toward the beginning of cleaning up, as I felt overwhelmed with the task, a little familiar voice whispered, "Mary, this is like your anger.  When you explode in anger--like these jars exploded--, you cannot just fix it easily.  You cannot see where it hurts your kids and others, and, like this mess, it hardens quickly and is painful."

All of a sudden, this task took on new meaning.  I knew Heavenly Father could have awakened me in time to turn off the peaches. I know all sorts of miracles could have averted this catastrophe.  But He didn't.  Just like my anger, there was no quick fix.  It took long hard work to "fix" it, and still, weeks later, I would find little clumps of peach rock embedded with glass.

That lesson was a powerful one for me, that lesson of the exploding peach jars.

I wish I could say I was perfect after that :).  I have fasted, prayed, and worked on it since then and still succumb.  I am getting better, and pray that someday my patience will become a great strength as it was a great weakness before.   And, in the meanwhile, I am grateful that the Lord is with me to help clean up the mess of my anger with His atonement, so that, like my kitchen gradually became, I can be someday be clean of the effects of my exploding peach anger.

"Acting on only a twig of faith, allows God to grow it..."--Elder Eyring