Life is so incredible.
I have times of happiness, laughter, joy and silliness, especially when my kids are involved.
But there have also been times of grief, sadness, frustration, and even....anger.
*gasp*
Did I really just say that? But can I really be a Christian and be...angry?
I thought I was healthy. I read lots of book, prayed, went to church, read my Bible, didn't smoke or drink.
But then my daughter died.
And it felt like a river of anger swept out of me, rushing forward, engulfing everything in it's path.
Yes, I was angry about my daughter. But there was also anger from hurt in my past, anger that I had tried to suppress for so many years.
Because it isn't Christian.
Because when I showed my anger to other people, to other Christians, they ran away. They didn't know what to do with it. Add to that all the sermons and talk about loving your enemies, and where does anger fit in? Or grow up in a family like mine, where yelling and copious amounts of anger were the norm, and you don't want to be angry...you've seen enough to last a lifetime.
Is it okay to be angry and still be a Christian?
What does the Bible say?
Most of us know the famous passage, be angry but do not sin. Sounds to me like it is expected that we will get angry, that the emotion itself is not a sin, but how you handle it. Do I tear into other people, smack my children around, and act out through ______ (insert any of the following: shopping binges, drinking, gambling, busyness, drugs, or any other addiction?) Or do I write, draw, play music, exercise, or find somebody safe to talk to about my anger?
I read about Jesus, overturning tables and throwing a whip around, running people out of the temple. I read in Psalms from David, who writes about crushing his enemies to a pulp.
It's been a struggle, but for the first time in my life, I am starting to understand that it's okay to be angry. I am pushing back against the condemnation I feel, from both inside and out, that you cannot be a Christian and be angry. I cannot heal until I have acknowledged my anger and have dealt with it. Ignoring pain, acting like it isn't there, or saying, it isn't all that bad, only pushes the anger deeper, and there it festers, like a putrid wound, seeping into other areas of life. Perhaps that is why the Bible states, Do not let the sun go down on your anger.
I recently heard the comment, Anger turned inward often turns into depression. When I look at the number of people in America today, even the number of people who attend church, that struggle with depression, it makes me wonder...there are a lot of angry people out there.
We've all heard sermons about loving our enemies. Wouldn't it be great to hear a sermon about anger? To hear a whole discussion on righteous anger and how we deal with it, as a church?
Don't you ever feel angry about human trafficking? About the millions of women and children who are sold into slavery each year? About the number of babies aborted around the world? About domestic violence? About the millions of children that die each year because they didn't have clean water to drink? About the fact that our culture has so emasculated men, that nobody seems to know what a real man looks like anymore? About the millions of orphans around the world that are left to themselves, or placed in ill-kept orphanages?
I do.
I feel angry about all these things. In a recent discussion about anger, a woman stated, anger motivates. When we feel angry about something, we are motivated to do something about it. To initiate change. To become involved.
Perhaps anger isn't all that bad.
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grief. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 1
Friday, May 20
Blessings
I've been wrestling with that age old question, Why does God allow bad things to happen? Why am I having to struggle now because of others' actions towards me? I thought I had laid it to rest, after some serious struggles when my daughter died. I threw every question and shot at God that I could think of, and then some.
And you know what?
He wasn't afraid to take it...or to answer my questions.
I don't have these great words of wisdom, but there was an answer that settled in my heart.
He is God. I am not.
Like Isaiah asks, Who can know the mind of God? We cannot put Him in a box, or surround Him with our own small rules and limitations. He is completely outside of any and all boundaries that we have.
And I also realized that there really is no good answer to suffering. For example, I started to realize that while I asked God for months, Why my daughter? Why? WHY? WHY?, what if He actually gave me a reason. Would there be a reason that I could accept? That would make sense out of the madness? What if God wants to teach me patience? Or so that others would come to know Him? I doubt I would have felt better. I still wanted my daughter.
It was then that I realized there really is no "good enough" reason for suffering.
I've really enjoyed the song "Blessings" by Laura Story.
So this song puts into words some of the lessons I have slowly been learning, and will continue to learn, I'm sure, for the rest of my life.
The lyrics are:
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise
And you know what?
He wasn't afraid to take it...or to answer my questions.
I don't have these great words of wisdom, but there was an answer that settled in my heart.
He is God. I am not.
Like Isaiah asks, Who can know the mind of God? We cannot put Him in a box, or surround Him with our own small rules and limitations. He is completely outside of any and all boundaries that we have.
And I also realized that there really is no good answer to suffering. For example, I started to realize that while I asked God for months, Why my daughter? Why? WHY? WHY?, what if He actually gave me a reason. Would there be a reason that I could accept? That would make sense out of the madness? What if God wants to teach me patience? Or so that others would come to know Him? I doubt I would have felt better. I still wanted my daughter.
It was then that I realized there really is no "good enough" reason for suffering.
I've really enjoyed the song "Blessings" by Laura Story.
So this song puts into words some of the lessons I have slowly been learning, and will continue to learn, I'm sure, for the rest of my life.
The lyrics are:
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It's not our home
Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise
Sunday, April 10
Not goodbye
You are dearly missed, sweet one. We went to see your stone yesterday and your brothers picked flowers for you. Nathaniel asked if you would come down from heaven to get the flowers. But this isn't goodbye. We will see you again someday. We love you.
Thursday, April 7
Happy Birthday Alaina!
Happy Birthday, my dear sweet girl!
Your brothers are so excited about celebrating your birthday today. Nathaniel asked if you like dinosaurs, and I told him you did, so he made you a dinosaur card. Zach wants to help me make a cupcake and blow out the candles for you. All 6 of them. He asked me yesterday if you can smell the flowers he picked for you, and I told him, Yes, you can smell the flowers.
I can't wait to see you again, baby girl. Whole and healthy and full of life.
Until we meet again...
Your brothers are so excited about celebrating your birthday today. Nathaniel asked if you like dinosaurs, and I told him you did, so he made you a dinosaur card. Zach wants to help me make a cupcake and blow out the candles for you. All 6 of them. He asked me yesterday if you can smell the flowers he picked for you, and I told him, Yes, you can smell the flowers.
photo: me at 4 months of pregnancy, 3 months before she was born
photo: holding her for the first time. She died a half hour later.
Until we meet again...
Tuesday, April 5
Remembering
This is a tough week for us. Thursday marks 6 years since our precious daughter came into our lives, and Saturday marks 6 years ago that she died.
Springtime is always tough. Seeing the cherry trees blossoming and flowers coming alive is a bittersweet memory. While the color peeping through the ground reminds us of life, it also reminds me of death. Hard to believe it has been 6 years, and how well I remember it all, like it was yesterday.
Driving home from the hospital, trying to think through the haze of pain, medications and grief, we stopped at a stop-sign. I looked past Steve, and there on the corner was a magnificent cherry tree, in full bloom. The delicate pink flowers swayed in the breeze, so close we could almost reach out and touch them. Is God rubbing my loss in my face? I thought bitterly. Everywhere around me there was new life, and we headed home to plan our daughter's funeral. How completely ironic it all was.
And yet, like the little crocuses that are here for such a short time, so was her life. So short, so insignificant to so many people. But to us, she was a reminder of God's beauty, grace and love. She was small but beautiful.
So if you can, think of us this week, as we remember her and remember all that God has done through her short life.
Springtime is always tough. Seeing the cherry trees blossoming and flowers coming alive is a bittersweet memory. While the color peeping through the ground reminds us of life, it also reminds me of death. Hard to believe it has been 6 years, and how well I remember it all, like it was yesterday.
Driving home from the hospital, trying to think through the haze of pain, medications and grief, we stopped at a stop-sign. I looked past Steve, and there on the corner was a magnificent cherry tree, in full bloom. The delicate pink flowers swayed in the breeze, so close we could almost reach out and touch them. Is God rubbing my loss in my face? I thought bitterly. Everywhere around me there was new life, and we headed home to plan our daughter's funeral. How completely ironic it all was.
And yet, like the little crocuses that are here for such a short time, so was her life. So short, so insignificant to so many people. But to us, she was a reminder of God's beauty, grace and love. She was small but beautiful.
So if you can, think of us this week, as we remember her and remember all that God has done through her short life.
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