“let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:22-23
Both of my dogs know the rules around our house. If you run away, you get “a talking to”. My dogs spend nice weather hours in the kennel because they are prone to run a bit too far and wide for my and my husband’s comfort. This week one went exploring. Upon his return we asked, “Where have you been?”. He slumped his tail, hung his head, and went straight into his kennel only too aware of his divergence from our expectation. That struck us because neither my husband nor I told him to go into the kennel. He “punished” himself feeling and owning his mistake.
This week and last when I realized I was being weighed down by the emotion anger, I felt like my dog and sauntered into my spiritual “kennel” of shame. So, not only did I break God’s heart by allowing anger to reside, I also listened to the devil who whispered condemnation and shame. I see now that my Jesus forgives so genuinely and tenderly, so freely. And often the journey of renewing our minds and forgiving ourselves of short comings is much harder, because it’s so counter to our flesh and our default programming.
Chip Ingram reminds us that “Anger is a secondary emotion. It’s a warning light on a dashboard that tells us something else is going on.” It made perfect sense hearing him simply state this fact. I mean I “knew” that. I understood that the angry feelings I encountered arose because thing A or thing B happened, but it felt like permission to “feel mad” without having to go too far with it. I used to think mad was bad, but I don’t think it’s that simple anymore.
Listening to Chip, I realized anger is an emotion, which is a gift from God. Angry isn’t a place I have to stay, but I can drop by for a visit without it shocking or appalling God. After all, He sees the minutia and knows hot buttons of my heart. He also sees the paths to freedom, grace, and forgiveness that He lays before me, if I can accept them on the road of processing and following a better way than my own way.
Whether my dog was put in the kennel by himself or by us, when it’s time to go inside the house or to play, he always bounds out of the kennel with such excitement. He’s always ready for a nice run. From experience, and from reading of the Israelites in the wilderness, we are the same after sin, confession, and forgiveness of the sin. A part of me wishes I could bound back as quick as my dog and forget my sorrows over a sin, but the other, stronger part is thankful that my mind must be renewed, transformed and sanctified over time so that it really sticks and I don’t forget the hard work Christ’s Spirit works within me for His glory.
Lord, my God and King, my sweet Redeemer and my dearest, kindest Friend, once again I have fallen short for the plan You have for me. Instead of showing your glory, I’ve shown my own frailty. All I can say is thank you for forgiving me when I falter. Thank you for giving me another chance. Thank you for not locking me away, but rather looking into my soul and drawing me into light and life instead. You’ve shown your heart of reconciliation starting with Adam and Eve, weaving it through
all of humanity and won’t stop. Jesus proves your heart of endless forgiveness, and His Spirit testifies of it still today.
