That last sentence is harder to admit than that I wanted to fight. I guess it's because one feels like grace and progress while the other feels like failure. I haven't been in a physical fight since 2009, and despite how I may feel for a short time here and there when I get angry, I hope that I am never in another one. I have done more than enough fighting in my lifetime. The way I felt yesterday would have led to violence in my past. When someone felt the need to fight someone, anyone, even if it's not what or who you are really angry about or at, it's pretty easy to find someone willing to oblige when you are surrounded by other angry and broken men with no escape and looking for an excuse.
I am not the man I used to be, and there has been a lot of change and spiritual progress. But God's not even close to finished with me yet. I wanted to fight but knew I wouldn't. That's progress. That's grace at work helping me not to react to my anger in what would have once been the instinctive way of my natural bent. I never seriously considered driving until I found him and just seeing what happened, and there was a time I did just that. So, while it's not something I care to admit because it isn't very spiritually mature, it's not a huge shame to admit you started to go to the bad place and didn't.
Then, in a moment of honesty that last sentence in the opening paragraph pops up. Ugh. That's so embarrassing. Yeah, that's a great way for a preacher to act, an almost mirror image of Christ, NOT. The first is honest. I got mad. I went to the bad place of the old man. Grace pulled me back from the edge before I engaged old behavior, and while I continued to simmer and burn for far longer than I care to admit, the danger of verbal or physical violence passed without incident. Even though it would be better to have not lost it in the first place, that still feels a bit like a victory. But that last truth is not a victory, that is hypocrisy and manipulation and acting like a child and failure.
Oh, by the time I got to that point where I knew I wouldn't start an actual fight, I knew my words would be gracious. I would say things that a preacher would be expected to say, things that would help keep the rage from returning to a boil, because if I let go and vent verbally, the temperatures rise with my anger again, at least temporarily. Ever notice that? You tell someone a story about how and why you got angry and as you tell it the anger is reborn? But despite what my words might have said and the lack of violence, there would have been no true grace. Why? Because what I really wanted was to make sure the person knew they had messed up, hurt my feelings and made me mad. I'm literally, laughing, OK more of a chuckle really. See, I told you, childish. You hurt my feelings, and I want to make sure you realize it, and I want you to be sorry, and I want to say that it's OK and the right words of mercy and grace so that you realize I'm a nicer and better person than you are, because I said what a nice and good person would say.
But I'm not a nicer person. Or even a nice person. I'm a manipulative jerk with violent tendencies who has received more grace than can possibly be imagined and yet is still, when it comes to that real moment where pain intersects with disregard, is reluctant to give that same grace to others. I wish it weren't true. I wish that I could tell you how in the face of being disrespected and treated as though I were worthless and less than deserving of common courtesy it didn't hurt me or make me stupid and that my first and real instinct was to give grace. But it wasn't, and it usually isn't. I'm just not that much like Jesus....yet. I know preachers aren't supposed to talk like that. We're not supposed to admit to still having such areas of shortcoming. Higher standard and good example and all. Whatever. I'm not a preacher. I am messed up man who isn't nearly as messed up as he used to be because of grace who is blessed with the opportunity to preach and share what God has done and is continuing to do.
So the question on my mind this morning, well, really it started last night as I reviewed my day and graded myself F+ at best, is why did I respond the way I did? Why did I want to do anything but give grace? The issue was not about what happened on the surface, the event that sparked the flames of fury. It came from feeling disregarded and treated as less than. Those old wounds still haven't totally healed, and being treated as though I have no value or significance still hurts at times, especially since there is still a part of me that feels it's true from time to time. No one ever treated me as unimportant and worthless as I did, but sometimes with that disregard comes a knee jerk reaction of need to make someone pay or at least just acknowledge that you were wrong. I know it's not a rare issue. The biggest thing in prison and the streets is respect. Don't disrespect me and we'll be OK. If you disrespect me, we gotta fight. Period. And the thing is the less esteem may seem appropriate, the more respect is demanded. It isn't really about respect, or what is truly deserved.
I don't deserve anyone's respect or regard. I know that. But when I get into self and forget the truth, I need it. The truth? Yes, the truth. I am loved and valued by God. That's your truth too. When we grasp that and remember it and live like it is true, we can give grace to others. It's not that being treated badly by people doesn't hurt. Jesus still hurt when He was rejected. But our reaction is different. My value is not determined any longer by who I am, by what I have or haven't done, by what I do or don't do, or even by how you treat me or what you think of me. My value and significance is determined by the grace and love given to me by Daddy. When I remember that, I don't act a fool when I'm disrespected, disregarded or treated as less than by people. When I forget, those old wounds reappear and instinctive reactions make me act like someone in desperate need of being loved and valued.
The truth is that my reaction may at times still be way too much street and convict, but the problem is one that is common to people everywhere. We all need desperately to be loved and treated as though we matter. And when we feel we are treated opposite of that, it hurts us in a way that can be more painful and damaging than a physical wound. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will kill our souls. That's why it's our natural instinct is to want to get even, to make the person who treated us as less than to feel ashamed and less than. It's why we get angry and react like wounded animals, because we have indeed been wounded. We may react differently, we may be more or less manipulative or more or less prone to violence. One person may become self destructive when hurt, while another spreads the word more effectively than any bard about what so and so has done. But we all naturally go where we shouldn't when someone says or shows that we don't matter, even preachers.
We don't have to though. The truth is that the most powerful and significant being of all and any time has declared that you and I are significant and worth a great deal, everything actually. You and I are greatly loved by Daddy. When that is truly accepted and embraced, the opinions of people loses weight and grace received becomes grace given. Most days I remember that. Most days I can give grace. Sometimes I forget. So today I just wanted to admit that...sometimes I forget how my value is determined and by whom, and I wanted to remind you, Dear Reader, in case you have forgotten without realizing it, or in case you never really knew. You are love by God. You are highly esteemed and treasured by God. Not because of your performance, so your performance can't make it any less true, but because He made you and declared you special to Him. Today, let us live as though we matter, no matter how anyone else treats us, because we do, and let us treat others as though they have value, because they do. Jesus declared it so when He gave Himself for each of us.
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