Confessions of a PK

One time, I was angry.

Just a simple understatement. 

There once was a time when all I could see were the red veins swelling beneath my forehead. Finding myself perpetually clenching my fists. Appearing as though at any second I could explode. The right situation or circumstance would set me off like a powder keg of emotion. A fight would be eminent.

Beneath this shallow exterior was a man…No…a boy trying to grasp hold of his emotions. I found myself so alone, or at least, feeling so alone. Anger filled my bones. 

I was done with the church. I was fed up with faith. I told God to take a backseat. I had no desire for council or advice. It will be me, myself, and I against the "unforgiving" world. I was in a cloud of darkness, shrouded off from those who desired to help me. 

To be frank, I was turned off to the church and it's community. They were to blame for my current predicament. This was a view I held (for a season), as it was only logical. They hurt my family and I was supposed to live out of grace for them. 

Grace, such a callous term. "Give people grace who didn't deserve it," who thought of this nonsense? Did anyone else see how this affected my family? Was there any thought of how this would affect my brothers and I? Did they know this was going to hurt me? So, why should I extend grace to them? I have the "right" to be angry. 

I have the right to be angry. That is what I thought. It's what I used to believe.

Then something unexpected but miraculous happened. God met me where I stood. I felt peace like I had never felt before. I didn’t feel angry anymore. Hate no longer surged beneath my exterior. I became whole once again. I was free. 

I received healing from my past wounds. Yet I was left with the nagging notion: Do I still have the right to be angry with people? Could I not extend grace to them? I mean they didn't deserve it and yet, neither did I…

I spent all this time harboring bitterness and resentment because I was hurt. Now it was gone. Could I still live my life without these elements? I spent five years wallowing in them, becoming immersed in such negativity. Could I function without them?

Could I go back to that way of life?

I had to give it up. I knew I had to. When it was a part of me, I was slowly dying inside. It was suffocating and stifling. It would not seem sensible to return to old mindsets. Despite the madding cry of justification and vindication, it ceased to be appealing. 

It was not appealing anymore. Those words ring loud and clear in my ears. Vengeance no longer became my life's mission statement. Being right no longer seemed to matter anymore. I found myself enticed by a different motivation…

Grace.

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::Author's Note::

These past two blogs (this one and the previous entry) have been a series of reflections on my growing up in the faith, while also seeing the raw side to church politics. I don't claim to have handled all of this in absolute integrity, but I feel that having walked through it, it has given me a new perspective on sonship. I hope you have enjoyed reading these entries.

If you are looking for a different type of community, a grace-filled community, than I highly recommend checking out the Gathering.