Friday, June 20, 2014

The Darkness Within Anger

A responsive essay  based on Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor

The Darkness Within Anger

   Just now, anger engulfs. It swallows whole. The weight of it. All alone. To carry the burden, others could carry, if they would. Fear: they won't ever. And what will be at the end, will be. Alone.
BOOK LINK
   When the anger engulfs and threatens suffocation, "can I learn to trust my feelings instead of asking to be delivered from them?"* Will I choose to face the conflict within? Will I embrace my anger? I am much less likely to be hurt by what I embrace; its lashing blunted. The anger is not me, yet within me and real. Too real to ignore.

This is not a fight or flight situation, but every fiber says, "flee."
Anger is not my enemy.
It is neither friend, nor foe.
It is.

    Do I accept the truth of Miriam Greenspan's words: “There are no dark emotions just unskillful ways of coping with emotions we cannot bear.” I struggle with this because I believe evil is real. Some thoughts should be banished forthwith, forever. Yet, her words ring true when it is my own anger I entertain. Anger is not darkness, though often we respond darkly.

    My response to anger determines the outcome. Slowly, I am learning to navigate the hurt, and be more prepared for the riptide of anger when it rears its head. Most often, an angry riptide is preceded by a wave of fear or surging tide of expectation. I'm learning to get out of the angry cross current. Face the fear. Release expectations: of them, me, us. Wrestle the dark. I want to respond to anger riptides with truth, light, and hope. I have a ways to go. That wave washes out to sea, often with me in tow. But navigating my anger correctly helps heal humanity. I sit up and take notice. Better angry, than anesthesized. In anger, my apathy to human suffering might just abate. I respond. If Jesus shared much on anger, we aren't privy to it. But when the Son of God displayed his anger, it was to defend a vulnerable humanity. His anger offered an alternative to both the world's anger, and the world's apathy. 

And remember, none of us outruns anger.

    It's tempting to run from conflict. I'm one of those who screams inside while my feet are on fire, an internal implosion. Others explode. Neither works. Get angry if you must, but respond rightly. Esau's anger had a manipulative Jacob running, and rightly so. Jacob knew Esau's explosion was imminent, and so he fled.  Jacob surely knew his actions had provoked Esau's wrath. The anger of "always second best" having overcome him.

     Did he regret his actions? Maybe. Maybe not. But with his heart ready to implode, he put on his running shoes. He ran from the consequences of his provocative actions. In the Old Testament, anger and provocation are closely linked. And the same seed of anger would haunt his own sons one day.  (What we do not resolve and repair with God, we teach our children to repeat.) Jacob fled, hunted by anger, Esau, and the Angel of the Lord.

Anger hunts us, but so too, the Angel of the Lord.

    The question is, "will I choose to wrestle the dark angel all night long in order to break free? How tempting it is to use religion to dodge the dark emotions instead of letting it lead us to embrace those dark angels, as the best most demanding spiritual teachers we may ever know."

~ Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor

    The darkness within Jacob caught up with him, as did Esau. But first, he had a wrestling match with the Angel of the Lord. Courage wrestling. Courage working. Rising at dawn, a blessing bequeathed. Only by facing his darkness could Jacob wake into his future. A life, forever after altered, all because of a little anger.

Anger hunts. 
So too, the Angel of the Lord.
Work it out. Wrestle.
But remember, the Angel always wins.
And the Angel always has the last Word.

* Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Meet Mercy

For it is by grace you have been saved, 
through faith—and this is not from yourselves, 
it is the gift of God—  
not by works, so that no one can boast.  
Meet Mercy.
Today was not his best day.
He met challenges in the woods:
fur with sharp teeth.
But it was a day for living, and rising above.

  Jack searched, but upon loosing his victim, gave up the chase.
If we hold out and hold on, Hope always arrives. 
 Unexpected hope.
 A mouse named Mercy.
Rest.
God has got our back. 
He covers it over and over again.
  Mercy rests.
Seven doves arch across a twilight sky, calming jangled nerves.
Heading north, the pole star calls.
Because a true bearing will always bear truth.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Happy Father's Day

 Into the woods we go...
Will we ever leave the Lego's at home?
Chilly mornings.
She did the whole 3.9 mile lake loop trail...and then we took a long nap.
   Friday was a slammed kind of pack day. Ever had one of those? The kind where you don't really like each other when you finally get out the door? Breathe. Drive. Arrive.
   It got better: I forgot cocoa and s'more supplies. See, I told you. Then we had the worst camp neighbors ever. I thought we were headed home Saturday morning, their speech was so awful.  I prayed all Friday night, through the night, for safety and peace. (This is why we love our rover buddies. Time in the woods, with friends, in out of the way places. Peace and quiet. Safely and sanely.)  Thankfully, we were able to relocate. Amen.
   Saturday was much much better. We took a lovely hike, had a yummy lunch with an auntie, uncle, and cousin, paddled the lake a bit, took a long nap, and enjoyed the campfire.  

   Sunday, we made it home in time to make wood fire pizzas on the Big Green Egg and eat Guinness Stout cupcakes with two grandpa's. Yum.

Happy Father's Day!

Monday, June 9, 2014

Working it Out, Working it In

Pale ladies on wooded paths whisper often. 
Speaking volumes, I dare not tell. 
Secrets, I dare not share.
   Listening into words, for the Word. Working on the Darkness Within series, even though it will always be easiest to set it down. And walk away. My copy editor/editor (husband :-) found spots a lacking, while spots a hunting. And so I hunt for the answers to the Darkness Within. The Word. The words. Little by little, they shape me. Little by little, they come. Petals of grace upon the path. 
Praying to be fruitful. Praying to be faithful. 
 Pretty excited about this

Sunday, June 8, 2014

The Musings of a Soccer Mom

  Sometimes I think we are afraid to cheer for our kids. Then again, maybe my voice is so loud I don't hear others cheering. But I wonder: are parents afraid to cheer these days? There are so many rules regarding sideline behavior we must sign pre-season and sadly, the rules are often necessary. If the kids have discipline issues on the field, it certainly stems from what adults model. 

    I am working to be a little less neurotic on the sidelines. Some Saturdays, I succeed, and others, not so much. I am a serious cheerleader at heart. I am VERY careful with my words and they are always positive, but I do admit I yell and holler for our team. I tell them to "mark up" and "find the ball" and can be intense at times. Just a tad. I sometimes wonder if a parent is going to ask me to, "please use your indoor voice". I played this game for a long time, and it courses through my veins in ways that sometimes surprise me. I remember hating that my mom would yell "Go Kimbo" from the sidelines, but I do an awful lot of whooping and hollering. I'm working on it. I promise. I want him to love the game for a long time. I want it to be fun. I need to step back. Sister reads through most games. I'm not there yet, but maybe I could bite my nails?
    Soccer teaches him hard work, perseverance, team work, and joy.
  Where is the athlete that will aggressively give his all without showing aggression to fellow players? Where is the athlete who pursues excellence, but not at the expense of others?  

   And so another soccer season has ended. We are sad to see it go. Brother played both U9 and U10 this spring. When we signed up there were very few signed up for U9 and so he got slotted U10, but then a U9 team materialized. Juggling the games was a little challenging, but he loved the extra weekly practice times. Who doesn't like kicking a ball around in the afternoon with friends on a sunny spring day? 
    He and I did a little fishing before the game on Saturday, as it was free fishing day in Oregon. We caught five little blue gills and tossed them back in, but we did take home a little trout wisdom. We'll be putting that idea into action soon.  I tied my first Uni knot this past weekend. Go me!
Ever so thankful. 

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Musings: A Prayer Journal by Flannery O'Connor

A Prayer Journal BOOK LINK
   Don't let me ever think, dear God, that I was anything but the instrument for Your story-- just like the typewriter was mine. 

   Dear God, I don't want to have invented my faith to satisfy my weakness. I don't want to have created God to my own image as they're so fond of saying. 

   If I have to sweat for it, dear God, let it be as in Your service. I would like to be intelligently holy. I am a presumptuous fool, but maybe the vague thing in me that keeps me in is hope.

   It does not take much to make us realize what fools we are, but the little it takes is long in coming. 

   Sin is large & stale. You can never finish eating it nor ever digest it. It has to be vomited. 

   If I ever do get to be a fine writer, it will not be because I am a fine writer but because God has given me credit for a few of the things He kindly wrote for me. 

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Overcoming

She's had a tough late winter and spring.
We are leaning hard into Grace.
I am SO proud of her. 
She keeps smelling the flowers and filling the vases.
Guess the materials at the Engineering Fair.
Checking out Google Glass.
She's her daddy's girl, with a bit of Jane Austen thrown in.
She rocked the hover craft and proceeded to prune the shrubs!


Fire? Yes, she did sir.
And yes, she hit the target 3 times. Soon, she'll be using my bow.
Dreamer.
Visionary.
Weaver of intricate bits of lace, called paper.
Imaginator.
Math Maverick.
Nocturnal owlet.
Caster of words, and spinner of orbs.
Dragon Slayer.

I called her a "dragon slayer" to J the other night. His reply: "Well, she's certainly not the damsel in distress."  She's as feisty as ever. Praying this summer brings answers. Trusting.