Hope

How To Find The Faith To Be Set Free (Hint – It’s Under Our Fear)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Our pastor is unusual.

And one aspect of his life, the part he doesn’t notice, points at the reality of what my life could look like.

If I can only find my freedom.

I look desperately in my closet for a flying suit.

For something to make me look like one of those flying squirrels.

Flying squirrels DON’T, in fact, fly.

They take longer to land because of the large flaps of skin under their armpits.

But even counterfeit flying is more than I have the strength to hope for.

No luck.

No squirrel costumes were tucked away in my closet or my mind.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fly.

I sit down to my lunch again and to my thousands of notifications online. I’m busy. I forgot that I lost my hope.

And then, through his example, this pastor opened the window in that stale room where I placed my discouragement.

Maybe there is hope I can shake this fear after all? Fear follows me when I try to fly like a rock tied to my foot. I try to shake it off.

When I don’t rise very high on the spiritual adventure God bids me to take with him, I shrug my shoulders and move on.

Because we all carry rocks, don’t we? Time to sit back down and enjoy my lunch and … wait! What did the pastor say?

He told us, “Be careful walking to your car. There are some interesting characters out.”

He warns us to be careful in our sleepy, mostly nonviolent town. There are indeed some guys on bikes doing who knows what. But these ruffians are harmless for the most part when they interact with strangers passing by.

The surprising part is this pastor’s grace extended to OUR fears compared to his OWN freedom in response to fear.

On the one hand, he warns us, protects us, and wants to ensure we feel comfortable in the most minuscule place of danger.

On the other hand, he just returned from another lone trip to the Democratic Republic of Congo last week, where civil unrest and bloodshed are as commonplace as the birds singing each morning here in our tiny town.

He is genuinely concerned about our fears – real or imagined. However, fear is not a significant factor in limiting his obedience to the voice of God. The opposite extremes startle me.

The “I don’t want you to feel unsafe” and “I travel to nutso places 99.999% of us wishy-washy first-world types would never dream of going of our own volition” is jarring.

He’s not a cowboy type, swaggering his bravado and making fun of us skinny wimps in the corner, afraid to speak at the high school dance. He takes our fears, real or imagined, seriously.

Kind of like God does with us.

And, of course, this pastor is a human, and so he is also annoying like us. But this one aspect of his life is an enigma that gives me hope.

Can I take my fears seriously and still not be imprisoned by them?

It feels like the rock is about to fall off my foot, allowing me, finally, to be light enough to learn to fly.

I can smell freedom, like fresh air, in a stale room.

Do you need help untying that rock from your foot, too?

I wonder how high in the spiritual realm God will lead us.

Come on! Let’s give it a try, friend.

Our destinies are waiting for us. Wearing this layer of hope, like a parachute, is enough to give us strength to rise into a spiritual adventure. And what do you sense Holy Spirit nudging you to begin?

There’s a big pile of rocks or fear that we’ve placed over there on that table.

Ready to untie the rock of fear still attached to your foot and place it on the pile, too?

Jesus is comforting you as you do this, like our pastor is, through his example.

How are you an example in another’s life of how God can use an ordinary person to soar?

What is He saying when you have time to listen and through the community that encourages you?

It sure beats eating more snacks and waiting for text notifications to BING again.

Ready yet, friend, for the adventure of a lifetime?

Can’t find a map? Let’s talk about that next time.

Ah! I’m The One Ruining My Relationships! How To Find Freedom

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

When I was a child, I learned of a true story of a married couple fighting about

. . . wait for it… 

whether the toilet paper roll should go on THIS way

or THAT way.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were fighting about had nothing to do with toilet paper.

They were fighting about control.

Unfortunately, even WHAT they had control over, at this level of debasement, ceased to have meaning. They just both needed THEIR WAY. It sounds a bit like hell on earth, and in fact, it is.

A fictional demon character states his goal of hell on earth this way: “All the healthy . . . activities . . . which we want [them] to avoid can be inhibited and nothing given in return. ..”

CS Lewis in Screwtape Letters

As a young adult, I had seen many relationships that ended up this way.

I wanted to learn how to have healthy relationships, so I prayed I would be transformed. I asked God to make me a perfect person who could find a perfect spouse and we could live happily ever after. But in God’s frequent way, He did offer one key

not in a flash of deep, fervent prayer, but by using real life to sanctify me. 

This path was a more painful route.

Here’s what happened.

I was journaling one day, and in that season, I tended to journal about my problems to process them. I felt God asking me to journal for another 10 minutes after I would have normally finished journaling. And God asked me to do this every time I journaled that season. At first, I didn’t know why I was doing this, but I obeyed. And very soon, a painful pattern emerged.

I had many unrelated problems that I was journaling about, but each situation had the same root that caused frustration, anger, or irritation.

Control.

Everything I was upset about ultimately boiled down to “How can I get my way?”

Ouch.

Now, I am from a good, Matriarchal Italian family, and let’s say that I knew how to choose my friends and boyfriends so that I could get my way. For example, when I was a child, my dad, in despair over his inability to live harmoniously with my mom, once asked for advice. “How do you and your friend Amy get along so well?” he asked. I effused the wisdom I had intuitively gleaned from 10 years of watching my female relatives and responded with this sage advice: “Sometimes, I let us do what Amy wants.”

I liked having my way all the time.

Here’s the kicker – In that season as a young adult after examining my journaling, I realized that I had to CHOOSE to give up a good thing for me – getting my way almost all the time – for a BETTER thing – having a CHANCE at having a healthy marriage. 

And I must stress that it was NOT EASY for me to not have my way all the time.

More often than I’d like to admit, it’s still not easy to lay down my way when Jesus speaks softly to me, directing me and showing me a better path. However, I want to trust Jesus more fully because He longs for me to soar into my fullest potential.

And somehow, this continues to be the place where, against all expectations, I flourish.

Our human desire for power is never to be underestimated. Our compulsive desire for control is never to be swept under the rug. Our fleshly desire for influence, ascendency, and dominion should never be ignored. If you don’t know that you hold a sword in your hands, you will wound someone. And the one who becomes wounded may be you.

Christine Westhoff in Reframing the Prophetic

God, help us to have the wisdom to exchange what we cling to for something better, the gifts You long to give. Help us to unclench our hands long enough to receive Your gifts.

You’ve observed . . . when people get a little power how quickly it goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you.

Jesus Christ (the guy almost 1/3 of the world claims to follow) in The Message

How To Save* (Or Destroy?*) Your Marriage – Two Advanced Acronyms

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

We start skiing on the green runs. We start working on our marriage by successfully applying two nonsense words to our marriages. But you are ready for the blue runs, the intermediate terrain.

One blue ski run (or intermediate acronym) for the daring only is:

N.O.C. – This acronym will be defined after describing the proper application of this term.

This acronym is used when your spouse talks about baseball when you aren’t interested in baseball. Or maybe he is discussing the minute details of some problem with the kids that you both SHOULD care about, but you have a headache, and the kids are doing okay, sort of – we all survived another week together. Do we HAVE to talk about this RIGHT NOW?

If this is how you are feeling, try saying this acronym.

N.O.C. means No One Cares.

This acronym is like moderate terrain when skiing because this phrase SHOULD be used sparingly, at least at first.

Are you ready for the black diamond ski run (or advanced acronym)? Here it is:

S.U.Y.A. – Can you guess this one? This phrase should be used VERY sparingly but produces excellent results.**

S.U.Y.A. means Shut Up, You’re Annoying

Use at your discretion only!

The application of this acronym is highly confidential and is to be used by experts only.

Or by (both) spouses who don’t take themselves too seriously.

And that’s the trick.

Know you’re an idiot.

Know your spouse is an idiot.

Move on!

And there you have it, folks – Marriage Class 101.

You’re WELCOME that we have saved you over $150 on a therapist. Oh, and if your spouse hates you after you apply these helpful tips? Well, go back to paragraph one in the initial blog post.

Marriage is a LOT of work, JUST LIKE getting ready to go skiing on the first day of the year.

Maybe pull out your wallet and try an actual therapist, one that can help you.

But that won’t work either unless you know you’re an idiot, you know you have a lot of stuff to be sorry for, you know you should speak less than you listen, and you are thankful that someone still wants to be around you.

Celebrate! You and your spouse made it through another day together! What more do you want? You’re an idiot, remember?

You’re welcome for this marriage advice.

Good luck!

Oh, and I realize this post is not as serious as it could be. And this is a serious topic. Sorry about that. (A bit more) serious advice will be given next time.

In the meantime, let’s pray: God, help us not to take ourselves and our spouses so seriously. Help us, however, to learn to take You more seriously.

How to take God more seriously so that our marriages have an opportunity to flourish will be discussed next time.

And that’s about it, friends. Be cheerful. Keep things in good repair. Keep your spirits up. Think in harmony. Be agreeable. Do all that, and the God of love and peace will be with you for sure. 

The Message, 2000+ year old text

Blogpost Footnotes

*Results not guaranteed

**Sample size = 1 marriage (Our marriage)

How Death Of This Plant Creates New Life In Us

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

The amaryllis is slowing diminishing in size and splendour, and shrinking back to that mysterious place in its pot where life begins.

My amaryllis blossom will be no more very soon.

You plant a “dead” seed; soon there is a flourishing plant. 

The Message

And like all death, the point is not that there has been a death but that a new season is beginning for those who carry on.

Plants take time to grow. He has time to wait. And though this amaryllis flower has no voice, God spoke quietly, inaudibly to human ears, through the life of this ordinary bulb when it flowered for the first time in twenty years, as described here.

This flower is a megaphone, taking the inaudible sound of the voice of Jesus from deep, deep within the earth and transforming His words into a glorious flower that our eyes can perceive.

The flower has no mouth to magnify the words spoken by God, and yet its life points us to Jesus, to the place in His heart where inaudible sounds are translated to the muffled sounds that we pick up and examine and ask each other to help us translate.

This flower is another clue on the journey.

Are you ready to go on an adventure with me, dear friend, and to try to unpack what God may be whispering through the life of an ordinary plant, one that blooms for as long as we can stare at our watches, unhurried, before it’s life is consumed, once more in darkness?

This flower teaches us how we should live, our lives erupting as a firework from below ground, to just as quickly be extinguished as the fire of our lives burns out, and we return to dust.

And this silent flower has spoken so loudly to my soul that an awakening has occurred deep, deep within. Do you sense it, too? Come with me, friend, on a journey of waking up, sitting up, opening our ears, getting our legs to move and run, and learning to fly.

And as is the case, whenever the most important lessons are to be grasped, we find our most significant clues in the things the world ignores. I sent this plant on its last stop before the garbage dump, not once but twice. I didn’t have patience for the things that required me to be transformed before I could perceive them.

This amaryllis plant became my teacher.

A series of blog posts (if I remember to write them) will describe what this plant taught me so far, including:

1. It’s not our lives that matter, dear friend, and we comfort each other once we have the strength to recognize this truth. And yet, when our lives produce an aroma like fresh bread, that strengthens another, God’s orchestra produced from the instruments of each life overwhelms the darkness. This symbolic orchestra is our hope.

2. Sometimes, God upturns the soil of our lives. This uprooting is chaotic for us and disorienting. But this is also where we find hope.

3. Where is God about to grow a new leaf in your life? We can never tell exactly where the amaryllis will sprout leaves, only that it will, eventually, despite all apparent odds, sprout. Everything living must grow.

Can you remove the rocks where He may be hovering over the waters or the soil, about to spout new life in you?

4. Do you need a friend who can help you lift the rocky burden that stops the new life from flourishing, where His Spirit is hovering? We need those who see in the Spirit when we are looking for our eyes on the ground next to us. We need a doula or a medical doctor to help us give birth. Journeying with others is safer for the life we carry. Who is on your team?

5. The thing that kept me awake at night back then, that my community and I pleaded with God to change, is the amaryllis that has grown through my softened heart this season. Noticing how God watered, tended and then showed us a new leaf sprouting in our past hopeless situations or dry amaryllis pots gives us faith for the next impossible thing He whispers.

God, give us faith for the hope you long to spring forth from our dry amaryllis pots. You have enough breaths from Your Spirit of guidance and encouragement for every seemingly hopeless situation. Give us eyes to see further than the mundane ordinary.

Are We Firefighters Ready To Snuff Out Danger (And Hope)?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I woke up this morning, and couldn’t find the fire within me.

It had been smothered again.

I dug through the ashes and discarded dead branches, frantically looking.

I know there is a spark somewhere inside, still burning.

I couldn’t find it.

I looked to heaven, asking for His fire to fall on my life again, to ignite the areas around my life so that I could see the smoke and notice the clues. So I can see where I need to remove the wet branches of our best ideas and where we can lie on the ground, blowing to life that which You have begun.

I called in a friend to help and we took turns, one keeping watch. Dangers lurk nearby. This beginning fire will be snuffed if our backs are turned even momentarily. That is how fear works.

I take off my backpack and my firefighting suit. I was never meant to wear it anyway. But I like to be safe.

It’s cold out here without my extra layers on. I don’t have enough to feel comfortable. But shedding the outer layer has increased my urgency to get this fire burning brighter.

Will you help me?

Our very lives, our joie de vivre, our hope, depend on it.

Can you take a turn blowing on these embers while I do some jumping jacks to get warm? Following His way is not the path of comfort. Our discomfort draws us to Him, to the flame, hoping for some heat from these smoking embers.

When our lives turn to desperation, breakthrough is near.

Why had I ever been satisfied with less?

You?

Do you need to take off your firefighter’s suit, too, the outfit you wear just in case God’s fire will break out of the boundaries we established for this campfire?

Are you, too, afraid of being so close to fire without the necessary tools nearby to snuff out anything beyond the boundaries we establish as safe?

Have you put God in your box?

Do you stand nearby, fully dressed in firefighter’s gear, back to the embers, standing alert to open the fire extinguisher on the embers lest real flames burst forth? It’s dangerous having our backs to the fire.

How is your heart? Do you explain away the unexplainable? Do you say, “I’ll ponder that later,” to the hints of the divine you encounter in another’s life, in your own life?

Are you, too, one of the ones standing watch, back to the fire of what God wants to do through your life? Do your ankles quake, and your whole body shake as you stand, back to the flame, prepared for the inevitable? How are you doing, deep down?

Did our diligence with the fire extinguisher, smothering fires from heaven as they leap outside the bounds of a campfire, leave you exhausted and weary?

Come, friend. Come and sit by this fire. Let’s take off your firefighter’s suit, too.

You don’t need it anymore. Yes, you will be cold and uncomfortable. Let this discomfort push us closer to the embers, to the fires of where His spirit is moving as we seek our and each other’s breakthroughs.

And when you find some warmth, let it spark the kindling in your heart afresh.

Only then does real life begin.

[Jesus] will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He’s going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He’ll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he’ll put out with the trash to be burned.

The Message

3 Common Responses To God’s Clues – Choose This One

/ Lori Lawe / 2 Comments

My child said she saw an angel.

And so, children sometimes peel back the curtain of heaven for us to quickly glimpse before the curtain is closed again. All we have left is a memory. What is our response to hearing stories that seem to push us into the realm of the divine, whether we want to go there or not?

Will the divine moments that we hear about be wasted on us?

There are three typical responses to another’s spiritual experiences: we become blind, jealous, or thirsty.

Most commonly, we become blind. Like a beautiful pristine camping spot, one mountain range further than we usually travel on our summer holidays, we won’t go there. It is not within the realm of our routine.

And so we are unable to see.

WAS there ever a pristine camping spot one mountain range over, we wonder, years later? WAS it an angel she said she saw? And then we are distracted again by our lunch.

The second most frequent response to stories of divine encounters is jealousy.

Instead of falling on our knees in worship and petitioning for a similar outpouring of the divine in our parched lives, some of us will compare. The soil of our hearts hardens just a little bit. That didn’t happen to ME.

They must think they are SPECIAL, we reason. They must assume they are MORE SPECIAL than ME. Often, that idea hadn’t crossed their minds.

But we’ve already tossed the implications of the divine moment in self-righteous indignation.

The third response, that very few travel, is a recognition of our spiritual thirst.

This heart response is gas for our car. We understand that each of us is offered an adoption certificate into the family of God, which comes with a royal inheritance. And from that identity, we can petition the Father, on our knees before Him, and ask, “Can You please pour out the divine in my life, God?”

We can beg Him for water because we see another who seems to have found a drink.

He always has more water.

I want you woven into a tapestry of love, in touch with everything there is to know of God.

The Message

God, soften the soil of our hearts equally through the encounters we experience in ourselves and those we hear about from others. Thank you that we can come to You with our doubts too and that You meet us exactly where we are. I pray we stop trying to stuff You into a box.

Keep waking us to a deeper understanding of your love, I pray.

How To Wake Up To Divine Moments – Treasure The Clues

/ Lori Lawe / 2 Comments

So, my toddler said she saw an angel one day.

Fast forward about seven years. We had moved to another house by that time. The subject of angels came up over lunch.

“You saw an angel once,” I ventured to that same child, now about ten years old.

I wondered if she would remember.

“WHAATT?” Her older sister demanded. She prided herself, as an older sister’s right, to know ALL of the family stories. How had she never heard this one?

I hadn’t mentioned it in all those years except for telling one friend and my husband what happened immediately afterward.

Who would have believed her anyway?

Children don’t have many words when they are three years old. Would she remember the incident now? And if so, could put more words around the experience? As much as possible, I wanted the conversation to come from her, not directed by me or influenced by my memory.

“Do you remember seeing an angel?” I ventured.

She said, “Yes”

I wanted to test her, to see if she was speaking accurately.

“Where were you when you saw the angel?”

“At the other house.”

I was startled.

Yes.

“And where was the angel?”

She said, “Outside”.

Oh no, I thought, she doesn’t remember. This event happened in the playroom. I was about to clean up the dishes when she continued, explaining more, “The angel was outside”.

Oh! Yes, I thought, the angel was outside the window we were staring at. That made sense.

Without my prompting, she explained that she was looking out the window in the playroom at the time.

She had remembered this very incident, which brought me shivers. This child was officially diagnosed with memory challenges a short time after this event*.

And yet she remembered the details of this event from many years earlier.

“What did you see?” I asked gently.

“The angel was singing. It had gold shoes and a gold sash.”

I sensed that we were standing on holy ground.

“Oh,” I said.

What else was there to say?

And then we finished our lunch.

~

And what is our response when divine moments encroach upon our lives?

Everyone should allow divine moments, either our own or others, to propel them further along God’s spiritual path for them. But how? The softness of our heart, exposed as one of three common responses, will determine whether we stay stuck in the mud spiritually or whether we are launched further and deeper along our spiritual paths.

In the next post, we will evaluate these most common heart responses after God interrupts the mundane.

He ordered his angels to guard you wherever you go.

The Message

God, thank you that sometimes, for a brief moment, You open our eyes to the possibility of the divine through our or others’ experiences.

Help us wake up to grasp what is right before us when our eyes are opened and our ears can hear. Help us to speak openly about what we have heard and seen. May the unusual become commonplace in each of our lives, we pray.

While we do not place our faith directly in angels, we should place it in the God who rules the angels; then we can have peace.

Billy Graham

What unusual divine moments have you experienced? Or what is a sacred moment that another has told you about that seemed plausible? Has this moment or a curiosity about this experience propelled your spiritual journey?

Blogpost Footnotes

*These cognitive challenges were later healed years after this event through diet, but that is a story for another day.

How To Be Brave At The Dentist’s And Doctor’s

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

I was having considerable dental work done, about a 3-hour appointment.

I brought my audiobook so “I can pretend I’m somewhere else,” I told the dentist. I was listening to a dramatization of people who were persecuted and even martyred for their faith. That audiobook helped to put my own relatively minor suffering in perspective.

And yet, as the dentist said, “This is the part when I’m like a woodpecker,” and placed a metal rod on my teeth which he then proceeded to hammer on like a mallet, I felt slightly… uncomfortable.

I sensed Holy Spirit in the room, almost like He was sitting beside me, wanting to hold my hand.

It used to be surprising to me when God wanted to speak or envelope me in His love.

But not anymore.

At that moment, I briefly remembered some ridiculous things my daughter feared. One summer, for example, she was scared of house flies and would not go to the park or eat outside without screaming as this terrifying flying animal approached her. I brushed off her fears and told her to move on.

And yet that’s not how Holy Spirit treated me with my concerns, which are so tiny in the scope of life.

Every time the dentist gently smashed me in my face, I could sense my adrenaline rise, and then I could sense Jesus comforting me. Like a roller coaster constantly about to head uphill, he smoothed out the hills and valleys of this experience so that my roller coaster ride was less bumpy. As I fearfully clutched His hand, He calmed me repeatedly so that the essence of this experience was the peace of His comfort.

He seemed to be holding my hand.

When the ordeal was over, the dentist and dental assistant commented that dental work would be much easier if more patients were as calm as I was.

I couldn’t have been more shocked.

“Who, me?” I wondered, looking around.

God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.

The Message

And God, may I be the comforting presence to another’s fears next.

And so, what are the easiest ways to be brave at the dentist’s or doctor’s?

I have no idea, unfortunately, however three clues we can glean from this recent experience are:

1. Listen to audiobooks about people who die for a cause they believe in while people are deliberately maiming you. It helps! Try this one to get you started.

2. Practice picking up the clues of God’s presence in your life, and talk to a trusted friend about your questions and experiences.

3. Ask Him to comfort you and hold on tight when Jesus surprises you by showing up in your life.

God, may You comfort everyone reading this at their upcoming medical appointments more intimately with your soothing words, voice, and tangible arms of love. We pray for strength for today with the challenges each of us faces. Help us to learn how to more fully lean on You when life’s challenges come, we pray.

Anger, Not Indifference, Expresses Love

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

The bible story pictures tend to most often portray Jesus sitting on the grass, Buddha style, with some children frolicking nearby, spewing truths that people fell over themselves trying to catch.

Which would be true.

But Jesus also got angry.

Anger fueled by love that erups within our souls like a volcano sometimes contains the seeds that can eventually heal culture.

TED: How To Make Peace? Get Angry by Kailash Satyarthi

Examples of the rumble in my soul:

  • Smartphones and other devices distract us from the search for God that stirs our souls. We yawn, and these devices sing us a lullaby and tuck us into bed. Hours and hours of these distractions put the raging monster, capable of transforming an entire cultural landscape to sleep with its soft coos and gentle caresses.  Sleep, little babe, sleep.  And we obey.
  • For those of us who claim to follow Jesus, which almost one-third of the people on earth claim to do, we are told we are part of God’s army of brave warriors. But we too often look at the armour next to us on the ground, asking “Isn’t it too heavy to lift, and how does one fasten these garments anyway?” We lamely look around and see some using their swords with skill, defeating the evil of the mind, and they beg us to join them in the fight. God whispers to us but we don’t hear Him. We are looking for something – our ears.
  • A generation of tots lined up in rows, and we calmly watch as they march in neat little rows, each one off the edge of the cliff. “What can we do anyway?” we mourn a bit to each other amidst sips of tea.  And so, a generation is led to the pit of pornography addiction and masochistic internet violence as a common cultural pastime.  They spend the next decades trying to struggle out of the steep-sided, sand-covered pit of secret sexual addictions*.  And we turn our backs so that we can’t see them fall.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Are we ready, yet, to wake early and cry out from the fetal position, begging for wisdom, ears to hear, and a living heart in exchange for our hardened coal-shaped ones?

And as we are comforted by Jesus, is He asking us to comfort or to challenge our secular or church culture or to change our actions? He gives us a drink of His medicine that hurts us and then heals us of the diseases caught by our culture. Anyone thirsty?

What mountainside is He asking us to allow to be transformed by righteous anger spawned by love for God, ourselves, and others? 

How does God want to transform our righteous anger into love in action?

And volcanos affect others. And so another person picks up the ash-laden, dirty piece of paper spewed from one of these God-inspired volcanos.  Can they make out the letters, which are dirty and half missing? 

Yes, they read it . . . “Climate injustice is linked to poverty,” says one scrap of paper. And with a gentle nudge from our Saviour, a rub on the back, telling her it is okay to be angry, another explosion, and another and another, for the ash from one volcano encourages the next to explode. 

Love for God, for our fellow human sheep, those both lost and found, beget love in prayer and action.

And are we afraid?  

Afraid of who we would be, of what we would do if we stopped holding in our anger, stopping sucking in our stomach like a weightlifter, stopped smiling to show off artificial, TV-worthy teeth? 

What if we didn’t care what they thought of us or what we looked like?  What if we looked more like John the Baptist, eating whatever we distractedly found along the way, dressed in ripped rags from our fierce single-minded pursuit of God, and covered in ash from being so close to the explosions? 

Because when God looks at us, sometimes He is looking for the fruit that the seed of anger produces in our lives.

So we can exchange our anger for love in action.

And that is how culture is restored.

Jesus put together a whip out of strips of leather and chased them out of the Temple, stampeding the sheep and cattle, upending the tables of the loan sharks, spilling coins left and right. He told the dove merchants, “Get your things out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a shopping mall!”

The Message

Blogpost Footnotes:

*For a secular example, see Chapter 4 of The Brain That Changes Itself by Norman Doidge

Anger, Expressed As Love, Is Hope For Culture

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

God is very different from who I thought He would be.

I’m a lot different from who I thought I would eventually become when I first started longing to know more about God, too.

At Sunday school or elsewhere when we first heard about God, He often appeared as a “turn the other cheek” when an enemy tried to smack Him kind of a guy.

And since we are made in His image, I had a vague impression that the ultimate goal of the spiritual life is to become the kind of person who lies down so people can wipe their feet on us.

If that’s the case, then I was blown away by what God spoke into the recesses of my heart that day. God, are you who I think you are? 

Of course not,

is His inaudible answer, and in his fury at the audacity of the question, He erupts as a violent volcano, splashing the earth with ashes of his love.

A volcano . . . erupting . . . love? I can explain because I am a mini-volcano formed in His image.  I haven’t exploded yet. But I can feel the rumble, and I know it is coming. 

And he is edging me on.

Don’t be afraid of your anger,

He spoke gently into the recesses of my heart recently. He comforted me in empathy, the way my dad would rub my back when I was a child, just before I would throw up. You know that feeling just before you are sick when you remember you will feel much better to have the bile removed from inside of you? That’s how I have been feeling.

I had been covering up the threatening volcanic eruption with my best church bonnet and long white Sunday dress. 

Like the person who travels to a volcano that threatens eruption, and pours a bit of water, a shovel full at a time, on top of the huge mountain to pacify it a little bit, I placated my growing anger. 

I shoved the equivalent of a baby pacifier into my mouth at church, turned aside, and listened to relentless chatter. Another shovelful of water, please. Or she’s a gonna blow.

My anger terrifies me. 

I once climbed an active volcano in Costa Rica, la Rincon de la Vieja. Tourists would never have been allowed that close to an active volcano in ultra-safe Canada. They wouldn’t have been allowed within miles of that place. And as I stood at the top of that mountain and looked around, I was shocked at the scale of the devastation. 

An entire mountainside of bare rocks, with the jungle forest beginning abruptly in the valley far below.

Yet scientists know that after the initial devastation, volcanic ash enriches the soil with its dense nutrient load. 

Soil from this ash produces some of the lushest plant life on earth. 

So as God rubs my back, gently telling me it’s okay to be sick, I realize that holding in my anger only makes me feel sicker.

At that moment, the clerk at the checkout counter seemed to silently ask me as she wrapped my package with a smile, “Would you like modern-day slavery with that?¨

And my anger, rightly expressed as love, compels me to take one small step in a direction that opens the door to better alignment with my true identity.

And this anger, no longer stuffed inside but rightly expelled as love, contains the soil that can nourish the seed of hope.

Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings?

The Message