anger – Accepting This

My words must hold weight now
In place of my temporary inaction
Due to the crippling anger
That runs so deep and pulses
Like a fresh wound left unattended
I am trying to bandage myself
To layer the gauze so my
Blood doesn’t run out and I am left
Lifeless, a corpse drained of all
energy and
Goodness
I didn’t know anger could be felt like this
And now I can’t imagine how on earth I won’t feel it
Every attempted word of solace stands out like a
Cheap piece of plastic floating in a pristine chlorine pool
I know I am meant to have empathy
For all humans around me
But I am growing increasingly frustrated with those
Who have power and don’t yield it for true Good
Those who are given the option
But forgo decency and uphold lethargy

And they label lethargy as noble and righteous
They label sickening pride as wisdom and sound judgement
They label laziness with “Well, I’ve been doing this for a long time”
They label cruelty with “Well, I can’t change that”
They label excuses with “Well, I can’t help if I don’t know”
They label racism with “Well, it’s a lot better than before”
They label passivity with “Well, we must focus on unity”
They label white supremacy with “Well, there are places worse off than here”

How can we hide any longer?
How can we continue to look the other way
How can we continue to deny the responsibility,
The reality that every single decision holds weight
Why have we not stepped out of these shells of religious bigotry and hypocrisy and into the
Tender, aching, presence of those who are in need?
Why have we continued to stigmatize and disrespect the very populations that
Jesus ate with? Sat with? Walked with?

This anger runs a web through every one of my interactions
From the coworker who is solely present to collect their paycheck
To the pastor who acknowledges the past as if it were more holy than the future
To the subtle (and not so subtle) infiltration of nationalism
To the mass amount of trash I sort through on a daily basis as I search for a coat that fits a child

Human, I know it is overwhelming,
And it feels like there’s not much we can do
But it is in the smallness of our daily actions
Our purchases, our language and relationships,
It is in the subscriptions and the habits and
The addictions and avoided conversations
And the apologies
It is in the shifts of perspective
That we will begin to take part
In the flourishing of a world
Now
Now is the time,
Not yesterday or tomorrow
Not before or later
Now is the time that we pick apart our
Biases, lifestyles, and convictions and immerse ourselves in an honest search for truth
The truth of ourselves, the truth in our beliefs
The truth of what our actions (and lack of action) reveals about our own character
Now is the time for us to shed these layers of dead and disturbing traditions,
Now is the time to listen

Have you ever
seen a thread unravel from a garment?
Pulled a load from the washer
only to find a string of frayed fabric?
Caught up and tangled,
you try to find the source
but you complicate it further by digging and pulling
And when it’s in your hands
you can see that damage has been done
that what was at first designed to be
a useful and beautiful thing
has begun a process of unravelling?

The human is like a cotton garment
with lace edging on the seams,
Its maker intended for it to be worn
and for it to create warmth
and for it to contribute and be loved and held
With wear it becomes dirty
and it needs a wash
and often times the caretaker doesn’t follow the directions,
maybe they didn’t know how to read, or they just followed what they had seen
and in it goes with wool and polyester and fabrics of all kinds
it gets thrown in with circumstances and textures that it was never meant to know
and instead of a delicate hand wash it gets beaten by the movement of
the machine and strained by the heat
and when it gets pulled from the wash,
there the fabric is frayed
and the thread is wrapped around everything
tangled up and worn out

Do you yell at the garment? Complain that it didn’t
do its job right? Wonder why it failed to be washed clean,
go to the maker and demand back your money?

A soul is more fragile than a garment labeled hand wash only,
the mind more composite than sewn together threads
and we gossip about the neighbor with the addiction,
throw stones at the mother whose child floats into the foster care system
Our brains were wired for attention,
but theirs were met with neglect,
heightened traumas and coping mechanisms turned into
generations of dysfunction
and there lie our pleas to break the cycle and do something
muddled and drenched in the reality of helplessness

I do not claim any ounce of confidence,
the only thing I can do is recognize my weakness
I welcome the constancy of my brokenness
It is only there that I will have rest

I wrestle with my doubt of your goodness
and my anger over your sovereignty,
This is not a place of equal right or opportunity,
but my ambivalence over your existence and truth
is extinguished by the thought of a life with out you
Yes, this place is stacked full of misery,
all the more reason we need your saving

I refuse to allow my cynicism and self-righteousness
to overpower the only source of light in all of this
with out you, whom do we have?
with out you, where should we go?

I serve a God who came for the weak,
he bled and died, so that the blind could see
He is not a removed or cold high priest,
he is a man
who suffered for,
and suffers with,
me

Our quickness to trust in humanity,
should be deserted when we see
the homeless child in their vulnerability
an unravelled thread, a damaged piece
I serve a God who says “come to me,”
he rose to life for the weary
My conviction should not rest
in my angry defense of my inability to save
it should be an everlasting devotion
to the maker and designer of mankind and the ocean
Dismantle my pride and teach me to lay down my life
change the way that I live and the way that I die,
death to my scrutiny and life to my trusting
death to our complacency and life to our caring

My destitution runs deep,
your grace covers me,
I am no longer a garment frayed and torn,
I am a new creation made to be used
an instrument for warmth, a speaker of truth,
I exist to glorify you

Tag Archives: anger

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