Pursuing Holiness

I’m a violent person with a truly vile temper; something I’m ashamed of but so far have not rooted out the sinful attitudes that are the source of that temper. And by violent, I mean I often have the desire to do violence. Although I don’t actually do it, the desire is as bad as the deed. (Matthew 5:27-28) What’s the mechanism behind this? I grew up in a violent household, and as a young adult, before I married The Man Of The House, I suffered some extreme violence, to the point of having PTSD/dissociative disorder. While it’s irrational and wrong, it’s still ingrained in me that violence is a natural response to anger. That I have not acted [as an adult] on it is God’s mercy and nothing more. And what triggers that mechanism is my own sin.

I commit verbal violence on a regular basis. I’m not talking about joking around, although we do that in my family. For example, I’ve often told my daughter when she’s horsing around with her friends, “Don’t make me kill you in front of witnesses.” She laughs right in my face; she knows I’m not serious. I’ve also said to her, when she’s being silly as teenagers are wont to do, “Please… lay off the drugs. Or share them, at least!” Perhaps it’s odd, but this is part of how my household interacts and it’s humorous in context.

Still, yesterday I made a death threat against one of my clients. I said to an acquaintance with whom I do a lot of business that, “I’m just about to get in my car, drive downtown, and kill her. Or at least smack her upside the head.” While there was no danger of me actually doing those things, I still said it in the heat of anger. And while “kill her” was angry rhetoric, I really would have enjoyed smacking her upside the head. (90% of the reason I used to watch Walker, Texas Ranger was the vicarious thrill of watching Chuck Norris deliver a well-deserved roundhouse kick to the head of bad guy after bad guy. I want to do that!) And this is the perfect example of the verse that reads, “in your anger, do not sin.” (Ephesians 4:26) In my anger I do sin. The correct response to this anger would have been to figure out why I was so angry and deal with the sin in me that generated the anger. In this case, pride was at or near the top of the list. I felt unfairly criticized and hounded by this person: I deserve better! She’s wrong! There was absolutely no humility in my heart, and very little desire to try to see things from her point of view. (She didn’t understand why certain things had happened. Why didn’t she understand? Because I didn’t take the time to educate her. Had I done so from the outset, there would have been no problem. But I wasn’t willing to acknowledge that, because of my pride.)

Now it’s 2 AM and I can’t sleep because I know how wrong I was and I have to deal with this before I can have any peace. I’m also trying to decide whether I owe an apology to my acquaintance. (Who probably hung up the phone, shook his head, and said, “What an idiot.”) But as in Psalm 51, the person to whom I most owe an apology is God. God, whom I wrong on an hourly basis, and who deals with me far differently than I deal with others. Remember the parable of the unforgiving servant? (Matthew 18:21-35) I, who have been forgiven so much, still fly into a rage at minor offenses by others. And remember, “to whom much is given, much is expected.” There’s no excuse, and I’ve tried not to make any excuses for this behavior, although I have thought them: I’m in pain, this medicine isn’t working, I’m tired, I’m under a great deal of stress… none of that matters or makes this more understandable. It’s sin, and I’m grateful that God is giving me repentance.

written by Laura