In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis pointed out that:
If you have rats in your basement, you’re more likely to encounter them if you suddenly go inside. But the suddenness does not create rats, it only prevents them from hiding. Similarly, a sudden provocation doesn’t make me grumpy. It just shows what a hotheaded guy I am.
I think about this when I remember the stick figure drawing that changed my life.
Baden was 3 or 4 years old. As he rocked his curls, he drew a picture of our family flying kites in red marker, his favorite color. My rod hands were resting on my wonderfully thin rod hips, and hair was growing inside the mattress, all over his egg-shaped head.
But my eyebrows turned downward.
“I accidentally made it look like I offended you, but you were really happy,” he explained.
This time, only my left eyebrow arched (the eyebrow that today’s teens freely imitate). “Am I usually angry?”
“Well, you’re often angry, but not in this picture.”
“Am I very angry?”
His eyes flickered and drifted. “Well, you get angry sometimes. Like when we broke something important to you.”
I tilted my head.
If it hadn’t been that kind of week, this might not have stung so much that anyone over 4 feet tall would have recognized me as having a hormonal disorder. All my kids back then were short. So I consistently seemed irredeemably frustrated.
But my son’s words were also difficult to digest because I had put in so much prayer and effort to overcome my anger, and because I was beginning to realize that I had anger issues.
Typical does not mean harmless
I could have given you a deck of cards showing how I was a kind, nurturing parent. But those smoke and mirrors would distract from the fact that I was quick to anger and often overreacted in ways that hurt my children. I was figuratively holding a gun and getting into a fight.
And typical doesn’t mean harmless.
My anger was like fire and consumed the tender feelings of my children. But did I want my children to keep a part of themselves from me? I needed to take a hard, forensic look at what was fueling my anger, no excuses or egos, but the destruction it was causing.
Ending toxic anger meant cutting off its fuel source, allowing me to deal with conflict in a way that actually builds my family instead of destroying it. As Proverbs 14:1 says: “The wisest of women builds her house, but the foolish one tears it down with her own hands.”
Research shows that parents who control their emotions are more likely to use skills to raise emotionally intelligent children. Empower children to problem-solve and encourage them to talk about their feelings, show empathy, and express themselves in healthy ways.
One scientific review of 53 studies conducted over 20 years found that parents who controlled their emotions were more likely to have better parenting skills, and children who were able to control their emotions were better able to avoid anxiety and depression.
But what if you lose it again?
Therefore, we know that emotional management is very important. But still, is there room for self-pity in our anger toward our children? I believe that despite the very real effects of our anger on our homes and children, God has mercy on us and provides profound relief to our families. God’s slow wrath means we are not consumed by His wrath (Psalm 86:15; 145:8; Joel 2:13; Lamentations 3:22-23). He also designed our children and us to be resilient people who can overcome and conquer no matter what inclinations we have.
Well, breaking everything. You’ll hear me say it over and over again. Confession, repentance, salvation, and verbalizing my own need for Jesus in my home have proven far more powerful than my own perfection. Not only that, but a lack of self-compassion portrays my failures as bigger than God and what He says about me.
Author Jackie Hill Perry writes in When to Wake Up: “We tend to think that everything is solid: nearness to God, holiness. Dying and severance. Confession and repentance. But what if godliness is (sometimes) elusive because we can’t believe that Christ is compassionate?”
I think so when I say to myself, “Death and life depend on the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). Are my self-talk and self-forgiveness a restatement of God’s life-giving mercy, love, and grace for my failures? Or is it the anti-gospel that slaps me on the back with life-sucking fear, judgment, and lack of belief that God and His righteousness is greater than all failure (Genesis 50:20, Romans 8:28)?
Excerpted from How to Stop Yelling on the Stairs: Staying Calm While Parenting. Copyright © 2026 by Janel Breitenstein. Published by Kregel Publishing. Used with permission. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.
Janelle Breitenstein has spent six years in youth ministry, five years abroad, and many more years writing and speaking to parents. She has over 20 published works and over 10 years of publishing and marketing experience. The mother of a messy family of six, Janelle writes in an authentic and intimate style that connects with readers around the world. You can find her having uncomfortable and important conversations at Janelbreitenstein.com.
