I am tired of meeting nice people. They always have a friendly smile and ask what your name is and how old your kids are. They say, “have a great day” and “see you around.” Then you find out that they post on social media about how masks and quarantines are evil as well as the sheep who go along with everything the President says to do. They bemoan how individual freedoms are being “stolen” and how we have government “tyranny” because the CDC promotes mask wearing to protect human life. But they seemed so nice!
The nicer people are, the worse their worldview, I conclude. I want to shut them out, move to a cave in Kauai, and eat coconuts until I expire. I’m out.
This is my daily fury. The micro-battle I’m facing in my life is how to keep kids safe in schools. It makes me angry to listen to the entitled minority talk about individual freedoms with no
concern for the greater good. Then I get angry because I know I’m supposed to be nice to the
people who make me angry.
Pastor John recently spoke about hatred even in our prayers to God. I feel it. I know many of
you do, too as I listen to your stories during our daily prayer meetings. I hate the injustice of all
of this for our kids, our healthcare workers, our aging parents. I bet Jesus would, too. How am I supposed to live with all these nice people?
This morning after morning prayer, I hopped on my bike to meet the sunrise out here in a
rugged part of Boerne called Fair Oaks Ranch. It was an amazing morning at a cool 66 degrees. I found a hill on a street called Rocking Horse Lane. It has a steep incline which looked to me like 45 degrees (not really). I began to mount it. Halfway up, after passing a British couple walking their two pristine poodles, I had to stop. The couple looked my way and said, “This one is hard.”
I caught my breath and gazed at the bright eastern sky. It is so beautiful out there. I finally
pushed through the climb - literally leaning into the handlebars until I got to the top. It was
hard but it felt good. Bonus that I got to show off in front of the Brits and their poodles that I could mount the very steep mountaintop.
When I returned to my neighborhood, I took a leisurely ride back to our home. I finally got to
the hardest point, a sharp, steep curve my kids call Mt. Everest; I mounted it with less huff and
puff. This was easier today. Why? Because I first braved that big mountain on Rocking Horse
The more I lean into the huge fury within me instead of avoiding it or placating it, the easier and faster it is to get through the next time, the next angry period. So many times, we stay stuck in our anger and feel ashamed to say how much we hate. Ginger recently said, we can hate the crucifixion, but we shouldn’t lose sight of the resurrection. There is grace after the anger, I hear God say.
I really think no matter where you are – Kansas, King William, Alamo Heights, or Boerne – God
is doing a work in you in all those uncomfortable places. He is the master of humbling our self-
righteous hearts. I am not glad about the fury I feel in today’s hot political climate or how I
secretly feel superior to all the “ignorant” masses. I can feel glad that God is constantly molding me by putting me in difficult situations. Sometimes that involves hate and I do not feel peaceful at all. Still, I know that I am getting closer to His goodness as I shed the rage on my way out of the darkness.
A friend on Rocking Horse Lane.