Saturday, November 2, 2013

Frightened Tears.

I sit quietly in my cozy garden apartment, snuggled up on the red couch with my computer. Hiding away from the cold rain on this the last day of October, the day I commemorate the beginning of my faith, I put the finishing touches on my newsletter. A harsh voice breaks my peaceful work - SHUT UP!

Harsh voices were rarely used in my childhood, except for the most dire circumstances. GET OUT OF THE STREET! DON'T TOUCH THE STOVE! And probably something like WHAT HAPPENED??? when we broke the glass light cover and sliced open my 3 year old sister's knee. Even under those circumstances, the motive behind the raised voice was not anger. I've always been sensitive to even a firm tone, yelling especially frightens me.

SHUT UP!!

A little flame of fear instantly flickers into being in my chest at the tone. A little girl is crying, probably three or four years old. The irate mother's anger aggravates rather than softens her sobs.

SHUT THE **** UP!

More crying, frightened tears.

A fourth outburst with more swearing causes the child to try to contain herself, but with little success. My heart breaks for this little girl. And just as anger starts to rise against the mother, my heart breaks for her as well. This woman who is broken and bruised and doesn't know how to not take out her pain on her child. This woman who is enmeshed in her sin, who has nurtured her anger, who doesn't know the healing love and forgiveness of Christ. It frightens me to think of many out there are just like her - hurting and afraid, angry and violent, desperately wicked and desperately in need of the love of the Savior.

When I look around this city I see so many full of anger, quietly cold, simmering, boiling over.  What have you gotten me into, God? Anger frightens me, but the people you have called me to are steeped in it. Passing down through generations, across to their peers, it spreads like poison.

To quote a wise sage, "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to [darkness]." Sometimes it seems like darkness is swallowing this city. But perfect love casts out fear. Over and over again, hundreds of times, God tells his people not to fear. Do not be afraid.

The voices of the woman and her child fade from earshot, passing by the wrought iron gate and continuing north. The cozy, peaceful feeling of just seconds before has fled. I am left with the growing burden, now more urgent, to bring the Good News to the streets of Chicago.

The person I used to be.

“We all change, when you think about it. We’re all different people all through our lives. And that’s OK, that’s good, you gotta keep movin...