Still Standing: When Gratitude and Anger Coexist

“Holding space for praise and pissocity, because sometimes, two things can be true.”

“I love you. Get home before dark.”

“I love you too, Mom. Okay.”

That was the last exchange I had with my fourteen-year-old son, just an hour and a half before a negligent driver cut him off two houses from home, flinging him over his bike’s handlebars and breaking his shoulder, three days before school reopened.

I had just left his school campus, where our town hodted its annual back-to-school block party. Knowing I’m still limited and unstable using a cane after my last hip replacement, my son had stepped in to help his little brother and cousin as I looked on. Afterward, I drove off with my niece and youngest son, while my fourteen-year-old stayed behind for track training.

An hour and a half later, I was rushing my son to the emergency room.

Holding Tension as a Mother and a Woman - 

As I drove across town, my body buzzed with a visceral rage. I felt the tension, not just as a mom, but as a woman who knows the cost of being unseen, dismissed, and endangered. Watching someone’s recklessness harm your child feels deeply personal… because it is.

So let’s name the tension this Sunday:

Not just for what went wrong…

But for what could have.

Not just for the recklessness of another human…

But for the sovereignty of God, even in that.

Between Praise and Pissocity: 

As I maneuvered through traffic, checking on my son every ten seconds, I was somewhere between praise and pissocity. Yes, pissocity. That special flavor of righteous outrage that bubbles up when you’re trying to stay calm, but your body is screaming “Do something!” And your heart? It’s screaming too. I was grateful and mad.

We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and I paused to thank my son’s friend, who insisted on riding with us. That’s when I realized the weight of my own limitations. My son - 115 lbs and leaning on me in pain, was more than my hip could manage. I couldn’t get him into the wheelchair alone.

After registration, we were taken straight to a room. That’s when the gravity hit me. I watched my son, stretched out on a gurney, unable to move without help. I flashed back to my own hospital stays, to my father and my beloved aunt. Both were lifeless on gurneys.

And there was nothing I could do.

But this time, my son was alive. In pain… but alive.

And Still, They Didn’t Stop: 

And yet… I was still reeling. The driver who caused him harm? They didn’t stop. They just kept going.

That kind of casual disregard triggered something deeper. I’ve lived a life where I often didn’t feel protected. Where I questioned whether I mattered enough to anyone to be defended. And I’ve vowed that my sons, God willing, will never feel that level of unwantedness.

A Moment of Clarity -

As the night wore on (over 8 hours in the ER), a quiet clarity came:

I don’t need to suppress my anger to express my gratitude.

They are not enemies.

Sometimes, gratitude amplifies the anger, because I know just how much worse it could’ve been.

I’m not angry instead of being grateful.

I’m angry because I’m grateful.

That truth hit hard.

The Bible Holds This Tension Too: 

I was reminded, God can handle my fury. Scripture is full of this holy duality. David was thankful and enraged in the same breath. So I can rage without rebellion. Especially when it’s on behalf of someone I love.

Here are a few verses that carried me:

💙 Ecclesiastes 3:4

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…

There will be seasons, and sometimes, they collide.

Laughter and tears. Joy and mourning. Anger and gratitude. All at once.

💙 Psalm 30:5

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

My joy this morning is in knowing God is real, and my son is alive.

But I also hold space for the mothers who can’t say that.

If you’ve lost a child and your belief in God fractured, I see you.

You’re allowed to question.

You’re allowed to scream and doubt.

You’re allowed to say, “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And still, God can meet you in that space.

May you feel His presence in the ache.

And may joy one day rise again, even if only in whispers.

💙 Psalm 94:1–2

O LORD, God of vengeance… rise up, O Judge of the earth.

Whew. The part of me that wanted to call down brimstone and fire felt this one.

And honestly? That feeling is valid.

💙 Romans 12:19

Do not take revenge… leave room for God’s wrath.

This verse? Complete transparency, this is still a work-through for me.

This is hard to digest, I still wrestle with it, 

Because if we’re honest, God be taking His sweet time..

I often feel like I need to help God out.

After all, He seems to be taking too long to enact justice.

But the truth is, maybe the same grace He extended to others…

Is the grace that has kept me, too.

What I need you to know: 

Even in the tension, God is still present.

Even in anger, He still honors our gratitude.

Even when others are reckless, He is still protecting.

So here’s your permission slip this week:

This post is your permission slip to say:

“I’m still standing. I’m still grateful. And yes, I’m still mad.”

You’re allowed to feel all of it.

You’re allowed to be thankful.

And you’re allowed to be pissed.

And all of that… is still holy.

As You Begin This New Week…

Remember:

While life is lifeing, God is still Goding.

Through it all, take time not to miss the quiet miracles,

the “this-could-have-been-worse” moments.

The favor that still finds you.

The grace that still covers you.

It’s okay to hold tension.

I’ve learned, two things can be true at the same time.

And sometimes, they have to be.

Today, I will meditate on just being grateful.

Journey with me as I/we Journey 2 Free

From my heart to yours,

Larissa. 

“God, thank You for covering my child…

And help me not carry the weight of this anger alone.”