Lightning

Anger, fury, wrath… pissed. Wounded, hurt, devastated, torn. I am all of these things. Today I marvel at the idea that there could ever be anything resembling healing, ever. God promises healing. It is not something I can fathom.

I’ve genuinely wondered how I can possibly ever still need to pee? How is there anything left after all my weeping? How is the human body capable of producing so many tears? How can the heart be so completely torn and yet still beat?

I loath my increasing functionality. I loath that I’m beginning to have conversations and remember to do things. Today I thought “dang, ketchup is good.” I hate ketchup. Actually, I hate that it is good. There should exist no normal and certainly no good.

I don’t want to appear normal. Everything is torn.

I’m struggling with this new stage of emotional turmoil. It seems that every time I feel as if maybe I’ve started to wrap my mind around the depth of my wounds a new cavern is uncovered. This one is fury. It isn’t a passing black day, or a screaming fit. This is sticking around.

I finally got real with God about it. There was something between us. I ache unbearably when there is something between us. I need Him. More than anything else in the entire world I need Him. I hit my knees and almost screamed WHAT?! I knew instantly.

After all this time and the long dance of love and healing that He has lead me in why do I STILL try to hide things from Him? I was hiding my anger. I was “shoulding” myself. I hate shoulds. I opened my heart and let the anger scream. I don’t disrespect my Elohim. Even in my rage I remember His mighty deeds but He has also taught me to be honest. So, honest I was.

The “between” lifted. Thank you God!!!

I was thinking about anger today. It is a “stage” of grief. Though I’m entirely unconvinced that anything so complex and circular and incomprehensible as grief could have simple stages I recognize that anger is a necessary and common experience. In my white knuckled commitment to do this His way He has steered me clear of some fleshly indulgences I wanted in the name of grief. He has not steered me from anger. I get to be angry. I need to be pissed.

So why anger? There are a lot of whys in this process I won’t get answers to until the trumpet sounds. This one I may just get, maybe, a little bit. My anger spurs the urge to fight. I want to punch something, rip something destroy something. I want to scream a battle cry. I want to lead an army into a clash of swords and armor and hack and slash and win.

Perhaps I feel this way because I was created to be a warrior. Walking around in my bubble I ignored my warrior heritage. My Father is the warrior.

The LORD is a warrior; the LORD is his name – Ex 15:3

I have a mighty and noble heritage. So maybe when the precious is rent from our arms and the veil is torn from off our eyes and the bubble pops the rage is the warrior emerging.


I’m not saying I want to live my life according to a code of anger. Interestingly I think the destruction of the enemy comes from just exactly the opposite.

Since Damon’s death Isaiah has talked a lot about heaven, God and Satan. We don’t avoid the subject of Satan at our house. He is the cause of our agony and he will rightly receive the credit. One night Isaiah said “I hate Satan. I want to take my lightning sword to his privates.”

Yes!! Me too kid. It’s become almost a nightly ritual to discuss exactly how we can “take our lightning sword to Satan’s privates.” We talk about love. We talk about loving God and teaching others to love God.  

Will regularly raises his right arm where Damon’s name and the word “sword” (Eph 6:17) is permanently inscribed and says “lightning sword to the privates.”

Lightning sword to the privates.