Healing Anger

Okay, I'm still working on being on time with my posts here again. But I am getting better. Of course, now the problem is putting something amazing into a few words.And then writing it down. not so easy sophomore year as it was during freshman year.

And I know that I've severely fallen behind. But, you know what they say: Life is what happens while you're making plans. Most often in my case, life is what happens when you're making plans, and then you realize a school assignment is due tomorrow morning before 8 AM. So, I guess I'm still working on time management this year. Last year I was great at remembering to post. But I'll get there, eventually.

Yes, I can hear you now: "Nathan, shut up about not posting on time and get to the good stuff!" And so I shall.... Try to, that is.

I'll admit, this issue is somewhat personal. I doubt very many people who read this could empathize with it. This last week, I struggled dealing with anger. Anger at God specifically.

Yes, I know, "Why on earth would I be angry at God? Hasn't he been good to me?" Just look at the rest of my blog posts, and you'll see that answer is yes. But my anger wasn't completely for myself. It was also for my mom.

My mother struggles with many Auto-immune Disorders. This is pretty much where the body attacks itself and causes itself not to work properly. There's no real cure or treatment for it. And it's not like cancer, which quickly becomes life-threatening while many forms have treatments or surgeries to cure them. It's harder, and it takes longer.

Now, this is not at all to belittle cancer. Cancer is the nastiest thing on the planet, and I know people who have had it. It is not small in the slightest. But it is different than what my mom has to go through. And in some ways, it is a little better.

There is not cure or treatment for Multiple Sclerosis or Fibromyalgia. There is no cure for Diabetes. There is no cure for Celiac's Disease. Instead, my mom has to diligently watch her diet. She has to check her blood sugars many times a day and adjust her insulin supply because her body will not regulate itself. And the pain from Multiple Sclerosis (where the immune system gradually attacks and eats away at the nervous system, little by little) and Fibromyalgia (which I'm still working to understand) is constant for her. Some days the pain is minor and she can be a very active person and love people the way I've always known her to. But other days, she can't even get out of bed because the nerve pain in her legs and body is so terrible.

But here at Taylor University, there are ministries for healing. People are supernaturally healed often. A woman is afflicted with migraines and then people pray over her and she gets better. A man injures his liver badly playing football, and then people pray and he's healed as well. I see and hear about this happening and  my heart hurts. Not my soul or spirit (though they hurt too), but my heart. At one point this last week, a friend was sharing about how God had healed him, and while my face never changed, I felt a sharp tear in my chest, as though something ripped inside. And I thought of my mother back in Colorado, who lives with pain every day.

After a year and a half of struggling to push away the nagging thought about the injustice of it all, I just gave up. I withdrew from my friends, convinced they would find out how bad a Christian I was. "Good Christians don't get angry at God," I told myself. And I didn't want people to see me and my pain. I didn't want to be a burden to them, because I was struggling to deal with these problems. I quit talking to God because I didn't think he would answer me. And I tried to pray about others, but at the same time, I still had my mother's pain and anger lurking and sulking in the back of my mind. I couldn't make logical sense of why my powerful God could heal all these people at my school in Indiana, yet seemed like He refused to heal my mother in Colorado.

Now, before you read further, let me tell you something RIGHT NOW: I have no answers. God didn't come down and tell me why He hasn't healed my mother. He didn't tell me His will for her life or the purpose of her suffering. And, since I'm 99.9999999999999999...% (Which in mathematical terms is the same as 100%) sure if my mother had been healed my family would have told me (which they have not), God has not healed my mother.

So what changed? What made a difference? The realization I was not alone. There are people here on campus who do struggle with that same issue. People who even participate in healing ministries have relatives who have similar medical problems. And the best encouragement was hearing their stories.

The conclusion? There is none. I don't have answers. And I know this may sound hollow, but the only thing that keeps me going right now is faith. Faith that God has a purpose to my mother's suffering. Faith that she will be healed, whether or not I get to witness it here on earth. Faith that God is good.

And I now know I'm not alone with this pain, the pain of having my mother live in pain. Yes, I know the rest of my family feels it too, but it doesn't help when they're twenty driving hours and two time zones away. And their pain would be different than mine. Thus hearing other people's stories help me find reason and faith in my anger.

This is not over, not by a long shot. But the anger has abated. And I think this has brought me closer to God. I have to rely on Him, and believe in His purpose, unknown though it be. Of course, the only other option for me is chaos, which is not viable. God is good. I will continue to proclaim it as long as I have breath in my body.

Holy is He and worthy of my praise.

Lights

Is there anyone that fails?
Is there anyone that falls?
Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small?

Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they'll soon discover
That I don't belong

So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay
If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way that I see them
  
Is there anyone who's been there?
Are there any hands to raise?
Am I the only one who's traded
In the altar for a stage?

The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart

But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be?

Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away?
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay?

Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain?
But if the invitation's open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade

These are the verses and chorus of the song Stained Glass Masquerade, by Casting Crowns. These words express how I feel so often around everyone I know. I wonder, "what if you knew the real me?" Would you still want to know me? Or would you walk away and reject me, wishing that I had never existed in your life?

I struggle with this so much. I try to pretend that everything is all right and that I don't have struggles. Of course, if you've been reading this blog, I imagine you know otherwise. But it's a façade I still maintain, nevertheless. Often I wish I didn't know how to act like this, but it's something I do very well.


Let me show you a picture of what it feels like sometimes. A few weeks ago, a preacher talked about character, and he described it as what someone would see if they were able to open us up and see into our inmost being. I, being the weird, imaginative person that I am, imagined taking a knife and cutting through the skin and all the layers to see the inmost man of the preacher. There I "saw" a vivid light coming from him, and thought his character is likely very strong. Then I turned the knife on myself, and cut through to see my own light. What I saw was a small, writhing ray of light, spinning and curling inward upon itself, rather like what a worm does after you dig out of the ground.


This brutal visual representation of my brokenness saddened me, but I hid it. Instead of letting people see this puny, pathetic, pitiful light, I put a distorted mirror around it, trying to make it seem like a raging torch instead of a flickering candle. I kept myself separated from everyone and continued to watch my light spin and curl, even though it cried out for help. I hurt to see myself in such a way. The last straw was when when I found myself slipping into old habits and lying to my best friends when they asked me how I was doing. Afterward I was so despondent and sad that I had returned to my Old Self that I went back and told them the truth.


Then a funny thing happened. I found the mirror I put up for my light distorted the others' lights as well. I discovered that the bright fires I thought surrounded me were only candles. They were as small as I was and needed truth just as much as I did.


I thought that I was the small weak one among my friends only to find out that when I revealed myself fully, they felt the same way about themselves. We were the same. We all needed and wanted to be open and seen for who we really are. We found unity in our brokenness, our weakness. And then something amazing happened. Our light grew.


If you put the flames of two candles together, in real life, you find that the flame rises and grows stronger. Well, when we released ourselves and saw each other truthfully, in some way our candles, our lights grew. They became stronger and our deep friendship became a little deeper, I think.


If we hadn't been open, if I hadn't been open, none of this would have happened. I would still be believing this age old lie that I'm the only one who struggles to be real to be worthy of acceptance. But it's not true. As someone once said, "We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same." 


I only hope I remember this in the years to come when I am tempted to keep my light to myself and refuse others access to it. May God continually remind me how much He has blessed me and how much He loves me. It is only because of Him that I have these friends and this freedom.


Holy is He and worthy of praise.

Pictures

"The LORD your God is with you,
   he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
   he will quiet you with his love,
   he will rejoice over you with singing."

                       -Zephaniah 3: 17 (NIV, 1984)
Many people know the first part of the verse, popularized in the worship song, "Mighty to Save." But there is so much more to be found in this small gem, this small promise God made to Israel and to us than a song title.

Take the next three lines. "He will take great delight in you/He will quiet you with his love/He will rejoice over you with singing." Three facts about God and his affections for me are shown here and they amaze me.

First, God takes delight in me. I have thought many times, "Yes, God loves me, he takes delight in me, he created me, yada, yada, yada." But the wonder is that God, a Being utterly complete in and of Himself, decided to create me and delights in His creation of me. And in me, myself! Now, that point, wonderful as it is, happens to be only the beginning.

Next it says, "He will quiet you with his love." The only idea I can think of that is similar to this is a picture, or a snippet of time. After falling down or getting hurt in some way, I would go to my mother or father, crying in pain. The they would pick me up, put my head on their shoulder, pat me on the back and say, "Sshh! It's okay. I've got you now." They would continue to say that until I calmed down, simply holding me.

God says that He will do the same for us, for me. When I hurt, when I am in pain, I can go to my Father. I can go to God, the Creator of the universe, the Great I AM, and He will hold me in his arms, calm me and whisper to my soul, "It will be okay. Don't worry. I've got you now." He loves us and wants to be there for us. For me. For you. It's astounding!

But that's not all. Look at the last line. "He will rejoice over you with singing." Now, first off, when I read this. I think of God singing literally over me in Heaven, in some abstract way. I distance myself from Him. But that's not what it says. In the original Hebrew, the word "over" used in this verse can be a preposition of place, meaning where in space God is singing, but it also can mean "because of." Look at it this way. "He will rejoice with singing, because of you."

God loves you so much He bursts into song whenever he looks at you! He can't contain the joy He finds in loving you.

I read this and I am amazed. God loves me that much? But I thought he was always dignified, slightly aloof, or at least not given to bursting out in song at random. But that's not the image of God portrayed here. Here, God is shown to be a Lover, a Father and a Creator. Not just words, but images, pictures describing Him.

God's love overwhelms me. I can only hope as I grow in Him and learn more that I continue to be overwhelmed by His love.

Holy is He and most worthy of praise.

Self and Forgiveness

Self-forgiveness. We've all heard about it. Many Christian motivational speaker talk about it. Sometimes we think we need it. But there's just one problem with it.

It doesn't work!

You cannot forgive yourself. Forgiveness doesn't work that way. It is inter-personal, not intra-personal. You can deny guilt or reason it away, but it won't go away, and that is not real forgiveness.

Look at it this way: You break my computer. Two things can happen. 1) I can demand that you pay me for a new computer or get me a new one. 2) I can forgive you and pay for a new one myself, releasing you from any payments I could require of you.

Which one is forgiveness? The second one, of course. But you can't forgive yourself. You could deny that you did it, pretend it never happened. You could also excuse yourself. Maybe I was a jerk who you thought deserved it. Again, however, that is not forgiveness.

Forgiveness is when someone offers to take the punishment that you deserve in your place. You obviously can't do that. I can't do that. So, in the face of overwhelming guilt, what can people do?

The only thing I've found that washes away guilt completely, never to return, is the forgiveness of God. Of Christ. All I have to do, indeed all I can do, is accept it. Fully and completely. Denial and excuses work for only so long until you figure out that they haven't absolved you of any guilt. In fact, they make it worse at times.

What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

His blood. The symbol of ultimate forgiveness. He washes away our sins everything that makes us feel guilty, and refuses to ever hold it against us again. All we have to do is humble ourselves and ask for forgiveness.

This is all my Righteousness: Nothing but the Blood of Jesus.

Holy is He and worthy of praise.

Truth and Justice

"Truth, Justice, and the American Way!" Yes, we all know the cliche like the backs of our hands, espoused by comic book characters like Superman and Captain America. But America has no real claim to truth and justice. They are universal. Moreover, anyone who follows politics knows that we haven't been the best examples of these ideals to the outside world and not even to ourselves. However, I didn't start writing this to blab about politics. I'll let those who care about such things do that. Instead, I want to explore the relationship of truth and justice.

What is justice? Simple. A criminal or wrongdoer is forced to face the consequences of his actions. This can be accompanied by mercy, like the way Jesus treats us and forgives us our sins. It can also be without mercy, like the State's way, where the criminal may face jail time or possibly the death penalty, depending on the severity of the crime.

Truth is somewhat self-explanatory. For right now, however, since I like to work with defined ideas, truth is a complete absence of deception.

We must have both of these ideas working together in order to find true justice. I know; "Wow, Nati! I never knew that before! Thank you so much for making that clear once and for all." But trust me, I have a reason I say this.

Justice, when not served with truth, is vengeance. It is taking the idea of pure justice and twisting it to fit our needs. Revenge is bending justice inward towards ourselves in a selfish attempt to get it when we think no one else can get justice for us.

A good example of this is in the movie Hard Candy. (I do not recommend this film in the slightest; I'm simply using it as an example.) At the end, a teenage girl convinces a man to commit suicide after getting him to admit to killing her friend. After lying to him throughout the film, she tells him she will erase the evidence of his crimes. When he steps off the roof to his death, she leans over, looks at his body, and then says, "...or not."

She got revenge. She used deception to get close to him, to get him to confess, and to convince him to commit suicide. That movie left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. She twisted justice to get her own way, and in the end found bittersweet revenge, not justice.

Justice must always be served in truth. Always. Both truth and justice are parts of God's Character and it maligns Him when we attempt to deceive in order to get justice. God will not tolerate that, which is why when we get revenge, it often returns to claim a sizable chunk of our backsides. He will not be mocked and that is what revenge is. It is telling God, "You aren't good enough for me, so I'll get justice my way!" It won't work.

God knows what He is doing, and he will serve justice rightly when it is due. Do not seek it out for your own purposes and get revenge. Trust God, and serve Him to your utmost, letting the Perfect Judge serve Justice.

Holy is He, and worthy of praise.