I am angry at God. I have looked deep inside my heart and found a secret so private I have kept it hidden even from myself. I, who Love God and have spent my life trying to serve him, have protected a buried green and purple festering mass. I have denied it. I have lied about it. I have belittled others who had it. But there it is.
I AM angry at God. The horrible paradox sends sharp stabs of pain through my temple, down my neck and into my shoulder. I have not slept well, eaten much, or thought clearly since the moment I realized the terrible truth. But it is true. I can no longer deny it. Surely God, who cannot lie, must have known all along. Surely God, who sees my heart, must have been wondering when I would have the courage to look. Surely God, who has searched me, is not shocked. But I am.
I am ANGRY at God. This isn’t the feeling I want to feel. I want to Love Him. I want to Trust Him. I want to Adore Him. I even want to Fear Him. I order myself to feel differently, but my heart defiantly shakes its furious fist. I feel what I feel and that feeling is Anger. Why did God fail to protect me? Why did He send me to such an unloving home? Why did He fail to meet my most basic needs? Why did He not keep me safe?
I am angry AT God. If I could only be angry because of God. If I could only be filled with a Godly, righteous anger. I would stand beside Jesus with a whip and drive out the money changers from the temple. I would tie a millstone around a child-corrupter’s neck and throw him into the depth of the sea. Or let me be angry for God. Let me fight with Caleb against God’s enemies. Let me drive evildoers out of God’s righteous land. But instead I am angry at the only One I cannot be angry at.
I am angry at GOD. God, the author of everything cool. God, the origin of everything I love. God, who gives every ounce of joy and peace and importance to the life I have. I am angry at God. God, who is Love. God, who is Truth. The truth is I am angry. If I deny it, I deny myself. If I deny myself, I deny Him. If I deny my anger, I am calling Him small. I’m saying He is petty and cruel and demands dishonest love. If I deny my anger, I’m falsely accusing Him. I’m saying He wants mindless minions who flatter His ego. I’m saying He can’t handle the truth in my heart. If I deny my anger, I’m saying He doesn’t really Love me. I’m saying He doesn’t know what Love is. True Love wants the Truth. Perfect Love casts out fear. True Love Trusts, and I trust Him with my last hidden truth. I fall at His feet, pounding my fists on the floor. I have nowhere else to go. I yell and scream and rage and God pulls me up onto His lap. He looks into my eyes and for the first time in my life, I know He sees me just as I am. My anger turns to tears and I sob into His shoulder. I am angry at God.