Festering Sores

So, I've never actually had a really bad wound before.  The worst I can think of was when I cut my finger when I went on my week-long mission trip to Cuba this past summer with the organization I worked for (you should go check out Deep Impact, it's pretty fantastic and our facebook page because there are lots of fun pictures).  I had haphazardly packed my bags and had left my razor straight up near the zipper.  I went to shove one last-minute item in and in the process of unzipping my bag sliced a pretty deep cut into my finger.  

This was especially problematic as the conditions of the water in Cuba are not up to our American water-purification standards.  Our poor little American bodies couldn't handle all the extra goodies they kept in the water there.  So, I grabbed one of the many water bottles that I had and frantically tried to stop the bleeding (which for a finger wound goes on FOR-EV-ER).  What made the day even more fantastic was that we were headed to the beach for the day.  That's right folks, new, fresh, open wound and delicious salt water to purify and cause my whole finger to go numb from continued pain.  It was a lovely occasion.  

I've never had a wound fester, however.  Festering sores seem gross.  They seem disgusting and troublesome and annoying.  It took forever for my finger cut to heal.  I can't imagine watching as the wound got worse and worse and instead of healing over and going back to normal, getting yellowed and full of puss.  

But I can understand what that feels like.  You see, I often let my anger become a festering sore.  
I imagine it like a rash, something that often starts out small but spreads out quickly.  And, if I'm honest, usually I get the most worked up on behalf of others.  When someone does something against my close friends or family, I can easily get very frustrated on their behalf.  I want to protect the people I love and when that is threatened, I loose control sometimes.  When someone makes my friend feel unworthy.  When someone makes my sister feel worthless.  When a teacher take their attitudes out on someone merely sharing their beliefs.  I get angry.  

But often I don't let it show.  I grit my teeth and clench my fists and grow very quiet because I don't want anyone to know.  I nod and may even give a small smile.  Sometimes I sigh and huff so people know I'm frustrated, but generally I withdraw, if only slightly.  That is, until I reach my room.

Then my anger explodes out to my roommate or my pillow or my mother via skype.  Everything that has frustrated me about that person or situation comes cascading out of my mouth in a furious wave of anger.  I feel myself drowning in it but I can't stop.  I have unleashed the flow and the river won't stop until it's run dry.  And often, after a brief pause, something will set me off and a huge gush will come out once more, until there is nothing left to say.

I ignore the rash, but it grows.  Finally I cannot take it anymore and I scratch vigorously, opening the wound.  I notice the sores beginning to appear and I try to avoid them, but I can't help myself.  I continue to scratch and scratch until the sores become infected, bleeding, ugly masses.  That is like my anger.  

I realize in the midst of it that only turning to the great physician can cure the sores.  But often times I'd rather leave them there, open and oozing blood and gunk, a reminder of how I had been hurt and frustrated.  That way, when it happens again, I have the sores to point to so I can remind them how they've hurt me before.  It's not healthy, but I don't care.  I want people to see and notice I am hurt without going up to them.  I want them to fix the issue, not work to seek treatment myself.  And so I sit there, covered in sores, more and more discontent by the minute.  

I wish I could say this is a grand issue I have found a solution for, but I can't.  It's something I'm still working on.  The Great Physician has a lot on his hands when it comes to Patient Eskridge.  Sometimes I wonder how he puts up with me.  

For now, I suppose, I will try and leave my hands at my side, letting my sores heal.  Because no matter how much comfort I seek in the pain and the frustration, it is nothing compared to the comfort God can give.  

Anger

One thing that hurts my heart so much about the school shooting in Connecticut is all the anger it has created.  

Anger towards the boy who went in and hurt so many families. Anger at gun control laws.  Anger with the system. Anger with not being able to do anything.

But what really does anger lead to?  Nothing good has ever come out of blind anger.  Very few times has anger lead to something good, and usually it's a righteous, justified anger.  I'm not saying that some don't have righteous anger for what happened.  But we can't be angry at the shooter.  We can't be angry at the government and our legal system.  We can't even be mad at ourselves.  

This is all because our world is broken.  On our own, we are hopeless.  Left to our own moral judgments and selfish intentions, this will keep happening and happening over and over again.  We as people are not intrinsically good, because we have poisoned ourselves.    

I know that sounds harsh, but that is what God tells us.  We were created for good.  But sin has polluted our world.  And now we are left with the consequences   Now, every human is born with the internal drive to disobey our Father.  We are selfish, and we think for ourselves.  

But that's the beauty of our Creator.  He sees us in our grime and loves us anyway.  Even as we run in the opposite direction, He pursues us.  He loves us.  He has always loved us.  He will always love us.  

And He loves all of us.  He loves you, and me.  He loves those 20 young children who died.  He loves the teachers who stood in the way of the bullets to protect their students.  He loves the young man who did all of this.  

He has loved the worst of us, and the best of us.  But even through all that He knows that we can never measure up with Him on our own.  So He gave us a way to get to Him, by dying in our place.  You see, the most powerful force on this earth is love, but not the love we have for our families, the love we have for our friends.  But the love a Father has for His children. Enough to die for us.  

So all this anger?  It just feeds into the cycle we as humans are cursed with.  

I don't claim to know everything.  I don't claim to know what good could possibly come out of this.  But I do claim the truth of God's Word in my life, in this world.  And  I know that He holds all things.  I am His, and He holds me in the palm of His hand.   I know He is orchestrating all of this in accordance to His plan.  His plans are there to give us a hope and a future.  

And I know my future is going to be with Him.  If you don't, do not hesitate to talk to me.  Because I would love to introduce you to a love that is more amazing and powerful than all the hate, violence, and pain in this world.  

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Edit: 

I wrote all of this late last night before I went to bed, trying to get my thoughts out so I could sleep.  

Today in Bible Fellowship Groups (AKA Sunday School), we talked about the wise men.  It struck me that Herod, who got the same evidence as the wise men did, responded to the Christmas message of hope, peace, and love in anger, fear, and jealousy.  How dare another king be born to take his place?

But don't we sometimes react the same?  God, how could you do this thing? How could you allow my life to be affected, altered, in such a negative way?

But the thing about us, in our humanity, we can't see the ultimate outcome.  We don't know how things will work out in the end, but God does.  He knows how it will all work out in the end. 

None of us will have all the answers.  But we can trust and rely on the Lord of the Universe, that he has all things under his control.