I've joined a biblically based community group on trauma. This should be easier to talk about with friends and family but it isn't. I've written a lot recently on the topic of anger and I mostly joined so that I could find trustworthy people to talk about anger with. People who understand that it has a purpose, isn't inherently sinful, and who aren't afraid of it. Having passed this test, I want these people to tell me how to get rid of it.

We have twelve weeks to get to that and wherever else the curriculum leads us. My suspicion is that the answers I want will make the fires burn hotter before they cool which is why I need people committed to healing and truth who can handle my rage. I cannot do this on my own. This cannot be a "just me and God" thing. I need other people who have sleeping dragons inside of them which sometimes wake and raze the town. And I know that abuse and trauma reliably produce anger so maybe my people are there. We are only on chapter two but I already thing that they are.

I wanted to write about how interesting the biblical and theological approach to abuse was in the book Mending the Soul, how I'm both encouraged and surprised at how thoroughly the author dresses down King David's family for the rape of Tamar. I wanted to complain about how slowly the work book moves. But after my reading this morning, I am humbled. I am finding the words that I have lacked. I am learning what it is my anger guards. See, the funny thing about anger is that it burns you too. But sometimes burning is better than shattering. When you burn, you are still whole, still know your name, still haven't surrendered to oblivion, still haven't given up.

So here it is. I am angry and I am confused. The way I grew up has made it difficult for me to understand and trust the voice and leading of God. And that is different than not having faith. It's faith without direction or clear purpose. We were often rendered powerless against abuse because it was "Satan at work" and we needed to wait for God to move and work and save us. Now, as I make choices I don't ever feel confident that I can discern God's will. I make choices using the best of my own wisdom and I hope that God is pleased. But I don't know God as the provider. I know God as the watcher, the tester of endurance, the one who lets terrible things happen and gives meaning to it later. Since moving out, I've had some additional traumas that have only obscured this more.

It's caused a rift in my spiritual practice. And it hurts so badly. I feel cutoff from the Body of Christ, isolated by my own powerlessness. When I make plans for the future, I feel paralyzed and unable to decide what is good and where God might be leading. And I am angry because I don't know what I did wrong or how to make this right, but still I ache and ache.

Here's to hoping that the glimmer of healing ahead doesn't fade.