Angry is not a word I throw around very often. In fact, usually when I'm talking with the girls we use words like frustrated, hurt, grumpy, upset, disappointed, sad. And usually those are far more accurate than angry, because every one of us can be sensitive given a particular issue.
But I wasn't kidding last Monday.
I was angry. Yes, throw in hurt and disappointed, but the truth remains. I just could not believe-- among several unfortunate incidents-- that two different sets of people straight up did whatever they wanted, with no regard to decency or to their word. To clarify, these are not folks we know very well; just ones we have found ourselves having to do business with. Sadly, I've found that people's compassion is often tied to their own convenience or purse strings. No exception to this last week.
But I can also tell you this.
I don't like feeling angry, which is probably why I usually stop myself before it escalates to that place. Righteous anger can be a good thing if carefully considered (starving children, the state of adoption or foster care, the killing of innocent babies because they are girls, trafficking, and more). Stewing anger is a different bad story.
So I took the day it hit and I sorted through it, I prayed, and I asked God to take it away. To give me clear eyes to see, to not waste my precious energy and time dwelling on such uselessness. To help me remember that such behaviors can be signs of brokenness and hurt in the lives of others.
And you know what?
The next day, it was gone.
The Lord asks me to pray for those who caused us grief, and though it sounds ridiculous to some, there is such freedom in this. Bitterness and resentment, anger and revenge are not my job. Those emotions take hold of me; they hurt me... they do nothing to solve the problem; they simply make the problem worse.
What freedom there is in Christ! He knew by telling us to forgive those who hurt us, to pray for those who persecute that we would allow Him to be in control. It is His job to judge and mine to obey. I am off the hook except to do what is right in His sight as much as is within me.
Oh, what freedom! Especially when I get over myself.
This past week for "Serve Someone Sunday" the girls wanted to take donuts to the fire department. There have been a couple of big fires around town lately and the girls noted that they have probably been working pretty hard.
At the end of the trip, with new Junior Firefighter badges proudly displayed, we talked about the equipment and clothing the firefighters use to protect themselves while they serve. We also talked about how they are like Jesus because they go into the flames for us and they risk their lives to save us.
Truly there are so many metaphors here.
Every day, as believers, we're asked to suit up. In fact, without suiting up we can almost guarantee to be hit by firey darts. Darts that will only sting at best or knock us completely down at worst. Yet when the fire gets really hot, when it threatens to overtake us and do us in-- we will NOT be burned. We have one who willingly stepped in to take the heat, to be bruised for our transgressions. By whose stripes we are healed.
He promises to carry us, lead us, guide us, never forsake us.
Oh, what a Savoir!
Sunday, we went to church, and I passed Joe a note in the middle of a really good sermon. "Want to get out of Lynchburg for the afternoon? Go do something fun?"
Um, yes.
So we downed bowls of spaghetti, threw on hiking clothes, and took advantage of a little sunshine. We hit up a new trail, one that was a bit more challenging than the usual. The girls were pumped, checking out hollowed logs and spying smooth stones to toss in the cold creek beds. Calling it an adventure each step of the way.
At one point we were traipsing across this long footbridge, feeling mile-high with the cool wind whipping our hair. Maddie asked me to walk along the nail pathway with her, counting each one that held the bridge's planks in place. Though my anger had long subsided, there still remained some lingering notes of anxiety because honestly-- I'm a person who often wants things solved and done with yesterday. I hate confrontation and drama. I want to believe that the best in people will win out every time.
As I held my girl's hand, though, and as I put one foot in front of the other I was reminded. This is life. There are seasons for skipping down the bridges with hardly but a care in the world, the wind whipping carefree hair. Then, honestly, there are days of taking it one step at a time. When the wind feels a little colder and leaves unwanted tangles in its wake.
In those times, it's important to remember life is truly an adventure with lessons at every turn.
Give strongholds over to God before they have time to take root.
Suit up. Let Him deal with the flames.
Follow the path, one step at a time, lovingly marked by the nails of the cross.
Because, oh, what beauty is missed when we purposefully remain blind to the God of the Universe shining down on each of us! Telling us He's there. He sees. He's working.
The journey will be worth it.
Step by step, lesson by lesson, bit by bit by bit.
~Katrina
*****
ps: Dr. Seuss Day is a favorite around here (March 2nd). Here's a super fun list if you too want to celebrate!
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