Today’s scripture: Isaiah 9:8-21 (NRSV) (The Message) (KJV) What might God be saying to me?
My thoughts (Linda Bernabie):
When I first read Isaiah 9:8-21, I thought, “This is just wrong! God gives us only love. Right? I can’t imagine MY Lord could possibly harbor so much anger. After all, anger is so . . . so human.” Then I remembered, we are made in God’s image, and the emotions we have are given to us by God. It is how we use our emotions that defines our identity and helps mold us into who we are. Yes, God gave us the gift of anger, but we should use this gift of anger as an instrument for good.
When I was four years old, my father was killed in a semi-truck accident. At the time of his death, he had divorced my mother and remarried, so I barely knew him. When he died, my mother moved me and my two sisters to Wichita, Kansas, to live with her brother. Mom quickly found a job working at night for Cessna Aircraft on the assembly line. Soon she had saved enough money for a small apartment. Mom, her three girls, and my grandma packed up what few belongings we had and began building a new life in our little apartment.
Shortly after we started our new life, Mom announced, “I have a new boyfriend. His name is Jim, and he is coming over to dinner tonight.” I was not impressed with Mom’s new “boyfriend.” I told her I didn’t like him, and we could get along just fine without him. She didn’t really care what I thought, and they began a relationship that eventually led to marriage. Grandma moved out, and Jim, my new stepdad, moved in. Here we go again — another start to building a new life with some creep I didn’t even like. I certainly could never love him!
Time passed, and at the breakfast table one Saturday morning, Jim announced he would be taking all of us on a road trip to the state park. We all gathered into his ’52 yellow Chrysler and drove to the park. Immediately I headed to the playground. It was overflowing with kids, and unfortunately all of the swings were taken except the “baby” swings. By this time I was six years old and fat. I really wanted to swing, so I squeezed into the baby swing and barely managed to pull the safety bar over my protruding stomach. Quickly I realized that I had made a big mistake. I couldn’t move! I was stuck! I kept trying to extricate myself, but I just couldn’t get out. Several children around me began to laugh and torment me, and I began to cry. Then I heard the chant I had heard many times before, “Fatty, fatty, two by four.” They were chanting, I was wailing.
Jim heard the ruckus and ran over and began rescuing me from the baby swing. He managed to get me out of the swing, and lifted this fat, six-year-old, sobbing girl into his loving arms. With anger I had never seen in him before, he began yelling at the group of kids who had cruelly taunted me, “This is my daughter. I love her. She is special, and I will not let anyone make fun of her . . . ever! Do you hear me?”
Wow, he told those kids I was his daughter, and he said he loved me and I was special. Whoa! That day, Jim became “my daddy” — my protector — and I loved him for the rest of his life.
Just like God’s anger in Isaiah 9, my daddy was angry at the pain and suffering I had to endure because of others. Daddy’s anger created a father-daughter relationship that never died.
Quote for the Day: Anybody can become angry — that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way — that is not . . . easy. —Aristotle
We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the suggestions on the How to Pray page.