Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Rage

Revelation 3:20 -- Look at me. I stand at the door. I knock. If you hear me call and open the door, I’ll come right in and sit down to supper with you.

Each of us has many rooms in our hearts. Jesus knocks on different doors at different times. This weekend I went on a directed retreat where I was invited to read Revelation 3:20 and then ask Jesus what door He wanted me to open to Him, and this is what happened.

In a room in my heart. Inside are all the monsters of my past. They are loose in there so I don't go in. I am a little girl trying desperately to keep the door closed so they don't get out and do more damage. That's the room Jesus wants to go into. I can't go in by myself, but I trust Him. I ask if He will go in with me. Will He hold my hand? He takes my hand as I open the door. He tells me to put them all in cages, and instantly they are.

There are snarling beasts with wild fur, giant claws, and gnashing teeth. Giant reptiles with slashing claws, and snakes that look harmless but are not. As we stand in front of each cage He asks me why I am angry at each one. As I describe the abuse and pain they have inflicted on me, He tells me He is angry with them as well. Angry that His creations can turn on one another this way. That they would turn on me -- His child -- to deliberately do me harm. As He says this each monster returns to its human form. 

Jesus tells me He always has and always will stand between me and them. In the same way He provided protection at the time of abuse by leading me to dissociate, He has continued to be my shield. They are not my concern. Their repentance and need for forgiveness are between Him and each of them. I have no responsibility toward any of them beyond wishing them no harm.

He tells me I can stop trying to get somewhere. I have done my part. It's okay to just be. To rest in Him. He will walk with me through that room any time, but it is up to me whether I go back in there again or not. My rage toward them is understandable and He feels it too.

Give the rage to Him. Quit using on myself. I am not culpable for their actions or how they made me feel. 

We walk out together, still holding hands and close the door. It latches smoothly. No more snarling beasts trying to escape. There is no judgment or disappointment from Jesus, only love and compassion. 

The question was asked, "What do you do with your rage?" I had tried to store it in that room with all the monsters. To ignore it, hoping it would dissipate on it's own. But rage and anger left to their own devices do not fade, but rather grow and infect all around them. Pushed deep inside I was the victim of my justifiable rage and anger toward those who harmed me.

Now I know the answer to the question, "What do you do with your rage?" I give it to Jesus because He understands it, so I don't have to carry it anymore.


linking up with Imperfect Prose and Just Write





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