I took some time in the spring to attend counseling with my pastor’s wife. She recognized there were certain habits that continue to resurface, and invited me to take some time to address these issues and learn to respond to them in a healthier manner. We covered things such as depression, perfectionism, and anxiety. The last topic we covered was anger. We finished the series back in June, but I felt like the book we were using only scratched the surface on the last topic. Yes, I know rage is wrong, but how do I prevent myself from getting to that point?
I know that anger, in of itself, is not a sin. And to be fair to myself, I do have quite the long fuse before seemingly blowing up. Furthermore, I have enough restraint to wait until I am alone before I reveal my Hyde side. Nonetheless, rage is rage. And outbursts of wrath is actually not a godly attribute (see Galatians 5:19-20). However, to understand why this quiet, unseemingly woman can suddenly lash out - to the point of throwing things or punching herself, I have to ask why.
Anger can be a sign that not all is well. But if after the flames from a discord have ignited, and its smoke blow over my head, the overwhelming guilt signals that the handling of my anger was not justified. The irony. If anyone would admit, they would say that they initially believe their anger is justified...and when the wrongs have not been righted, the gasoline’s only at bay to be poured on the fire.
But the key in not letting a fire become destructive is to halt at the beginning. Redirect where needed and reflect on its purpose. “Daddy God, when my anger gets out of control, why is it?”
His response wasn’t surprising, but rather, poignant. After all, it has forced me to address things I would rather just leave alone. But if God lifts a rock, you gotta deal with the bugs that run around from the soil. “Because you don’t like losing control.”
Me - a controlling person? I wouldn’t consider myself to be. At least not in the manipulative sense. Yet, if I look back on the situations in which my temper flared, control lend way to frustration. I don’t like when things are array. I don’t like when my realm of influence suddenly dissipates, because someone decides they don’t need to listen to me (i.e. teacher/youth leader problems). I don’t like not being capable to do something...Frankly, when something is wrong, I don’t like not being able to make it right. This comes in a variety of ways, but mostly, all of this controlling is linked to a fear of failing, not being enough, and lastly weak.
Don’t remind me what 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 states. “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” I should be happy I am weak, because then, I can depend on God’s strength for my life.
But I have been linked to weakness my whole life! Just take a look at my right hand. Do you see it as able-bodied as the rest of me? No.
So...in my life, I have worked so hard to prove my worth. To prove my value is measureless as anyone else. However, living in a society that defines one by what they do pursues a pressure to perform beckons me to work harder, succeed against all odds, or quit trying, where there is no avail. I bet you, the one reason I do not practice my guitar is because it is hard for my right hand to strum. I can’t even keep an even rhythm. So, I have just stopped. I focus my attention on what I know I can do well, within the adaptations I have made for my life.
This mindset has transferred to other areas. When it comes to work or ministry, I work my darndest, and if I fail, make a mistake, then I attribute it to my being and become depressed. I analyze the situation, after I first mentally abuse myself for what fault I wonder I caused. That abuse turns into rage, either against myself, or when I realize the fault is someone else’s, I am embittered towards them. I can furiously argue, and when I don’t win, it’s a hard pill to swallow. My desire for what’s right (and sometimes, be right...which is because I don’t want to be wrong) fuels my animosity. The realization that I am in no place for influencing change compounds the rage into a Hulk-like blow-up.
It’s rather sad; however, wrath needs no pity, no matter the cause. The truth is, in an effort to fix the situation - whether I am justified or not - I lean on my own strength and ability, and fail to depend on God. Pride is birthed. Let’s bring Him back to the conversation. Author John Eldridge wrote, “Until we are broken, our life will be self-centered, self-reliant; our strength will be our own. So long as you think you are really something in and of yourself, what will you need God for?” I have for so long held faith in myself, because I wanted to be cherished in and of myself. But my strength fails me at times. I am not perfect. I am broken in some areas; not always describing the physical either.
I asked Daddy God why I can be so obstinate (which accompanies anger, especially during an argument). Our conversation went as follows.
His reply: “Because you are not wanting to be broken, but you don’t want Me to heal you. You still aim to stitch yourself up. You’re my fix-it girl, and you are looking to help. You wait until you come to your end to realize that you can’t do anything and then you give it to Me. You define yourself by how others see (or how you think they see) you, rather than how I see you. Do you know that I see you as a masterpiece - now?” What is one word You would use to describe my value? “Impeccable.” The word means to be without flaw; not capable of sin or wrongdoing.
He doesn’t think me as handicapped, and the truth is, most people don’t either. The truth is, my desire for control, the effort to prove how strong and capable I am is out of a fear that I believe I am handicapped. Physically, but also skillfully. This control issue is not necessarily an identity issue for anyone else about me, but rather an identity issue I hold of my own accord. I focused on my own accomplishments, based in my own strength, rather than the work God has done in me. He doesn’t see me as the handicap; He loves and accepts me. He values me like the woman with the lost coin. God would search all over the place for me. I cannot persuade Him to love me more or less, based on my abilities or accomplishments.
Holding onto control has lent to pursuing my own strength, but there is a lie in all of this. When I aim to prove my own strength and goodness, I carry a pride that blatantly states I don’t need or want God to be my sufficiency. When I boast in myself, I fail to glorify God. When I try to earn His love, I am believing that His grace is not enough. So much for stupid independence. Such a favored American ideology, but it couldn’t be further from God’s heart in how we relate to Him.
We idealize superheroes, I wonder, because these men and women have the capability to resolve the concerns we are powerless to address. And because Marvel and DC aren’t based on true stories, we erect as much influence and change our own strength can muster. But sometimes we fall; we fail; we break. Anger becomes seeded as we are faced with the reality that our strength is not enough to control the situations or people around us who oppose or hurt us. Wrong is committed, and if we cannot justify ourselves, who can?
I wonder if God is trying to whisper, “That’s where I come in.” But with the record of how things are in the world, historically and presently, we question, “God, can [I] trust that You will make everything right? Because what I need now is [X, Y, Z]...” Paradoxically, God does answer, but not always in the manner we want. I have found this to be true in my own life. I easily become discouraged, because if I could just resolve the troubles I have, things would be better.
Actually, no. Most of the time, when I have tried to address something in my own strength, I end up making things worse. But how do I let go of this control that makes me feel that I can 1) right the wrong done and 2) approve my worth as an individual in the position(s) I hold? I have to give up the assumption that I am unable to trust God. I say that I trust Him, but, by depending on myself, I inadvertently declare myself Lord. (Yikes!) I have to breathe, step back, give the situation to Him, and wait on His direction. Prayer can accomplish a lot more than an argument can. By letting go of the need for me to be the one to fix the situation, I can allow God to do the work in such a way that I never could.
This is becoming increasingly clear. However, for me, there is that added crux that actions equate as identity in our culture. To relent control and forfeit what strength I have, I must be confident that my worth is not dependent on what I do, but on Who made me. I need to remind myself what God has spoken in His Word, and how He sees me. How He has always seen me. When I finally learn to fail at defining myself by what society dictates my value and identity, I can be free to allow others to my weakness. I can be content with people seeing what brokenness I have, because they will actively witness my Daddy healing me. True glory comes through strength and by His strength alone.
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