Church Leaders and Pruning Vines

The other weekend, I discovered that while I had been out of town, my tomato vines had gotten completely out of control. Instead of neat and tidy plants producing lots of delicious fruit, they had turned into raging green monsters that were producing more and more out-of-control raging green vines.

I picked up my pruning shears and went to town. Before I was done, I had hauled away two large garbage cans full of unfruitful (or barely fruitful) vines. I reflected on a couple of things.

First, I realized that by not pruning the tomatoes gently and regularly, now I had to prune them fairly harshly, and the result showed: instead of a well-balanced fruitful plant, when I was done, I had plants with great gaps in their branches, but at least they had the potential for growing some fruit now.

Second, I remembered our Lord's promise: “Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” John 15:2. The promise of his care for me (more consistent than my care for my tomatoes, I assume) in order that I might bear fruit.

Then this week, I saw that while I had been tending my tomatoes and weeding my garden and harvesting my garlic, my grapevine had gotten completely out of control as well. Another raging green monster, oh boy.

I picked up my pruning shears (and a stepladder this time) and went to work. And I thought about the lessons of pruning the tomatoes, and realized that those lessons applied here, too.

But I learned another lesson with the grapes. Unlike with the tomatoes, I really didn't know what I was doing with pruning the grapes. This was beyond my training, beyond my experience, and I knew it. Furthermore, I realized that while I was doing the best I knew how to do, the reality was that the pruning was harsh and probably excessive. And I knew it was my fault, but the grapevine paid the price for my ignorance.

It was at that point that I heard Father whisper, “You’ve just described a very large number of pastors, Son.” I can tell you I paused to think about that one for a good while.

And as I considered it, I realized that pastors are a lot like gardeners: their values are for the nurture and development of the garden entrusted to them. But occasionally, someone in their care gets excited and starts growing out of control. In my own history, I remember a staid little Presbyterian congregation with a dozen individuals stepping out of the pastor’s influence to participate in the Jesus People Movement.

We discovered intimate relationship with Jesus; we discovered the Holy Spirit; we discovered that the Bible really is interesting and practical. We got terribly excited.

And the pastors didn’t know what to do with this revival. This was beyond their training, beyond their experience, and they knew it. And as a result, their responses to our untidy, out-of-control enthusiasm was harsh and probably excessive.

And Father pointed out to me that they actually realized their limitations, they regretted the damage they were doing, but they had to do something! We really were turning into out-of-control, raging monsters (the fact that we were teenagers didn’t help matters any).

But suddenly I was more sympathetic for those pastors, and for pastors today that are dealing with congregants who get excited and start growing much faster, maybe even irresponsibly.

Some of them are panicking, dealing with situations beyond the training of their seminary or Bible school. They feel (whether rightly or wrongly) that they need to bring that raging, out-of-control enthusiasm under control, and they respond more harshly, more damagingly than they would if they had more experience (or better training).

Some of the church leaders you and I have encountered (and it’s not all pastors, is it?) have been threatened by our excitement, our enthusiasm, our vigorous change. That doesn’t mean we quit growing, of course. And it doesn't mean we get angry, take our ball and go away, either.

Some of these leaders will never understand. Some will, like the leaders of Jesus' time, declare, “If we let Him alone like this, everyone will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and nation.” [John 11:48] Some will wish they could throw it all away and join us.

But a whole lot of leaders will be open to learning more, even if we scare them, even if it’s difficult. I’m encouraged to work on building bridges, so the whole Body can grow.

EVERY Good Gift

I hold a belief that I don't think I've heard others talk about before. So of course I need to talk about it.

This is one of those things that I *think* I believe. I observe that I live my life as if it's true.

Jesus' younger brother, James said this: “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” [James 1:17]

So I've been thinking about that verse for a few years (like you do).

+  *EVERY* good and perfect gift is from Father. If it's a good gift, then Father is behind it. If my Mama gave me a cookie, then I'm (very) careful to thank her for it, but I still figure that God was behind it, because that's who He is. So I give thanks to Him as well.

+ Every gift that comes from Father is good and perfect. This does Not assume that everything that comes into my life comes from God. If it's bringing stealing, killing and/or destruction, then it's from somebody else. What my Father gives is always good and perfect.

+ “Heavenly lights.” I still don’t know what to do with that, so I try not to let it distract me from what God IS saying to me in this. (Don’t get sidetracked on this one, please.)

+ God does not change like shifting shadows. Someone else has said that he’s the same yesterday, today & forever. That works for me.

One of my personal goals is to increase my thankfulness. This integrates with that pretty nicely. Any good thing comes to me, I give thanks to my Father, regardless of who handed it to me.
 

Jesus Misdirects the Literalists

I recently stumbled over yet another place where Jesus sets up the literalists for failure. It seems he did that a number of times.

One time was in John 2. He had just made a whip out of cords (a slow and tedious process, by the way) and cleaned out the temple of the religious merchants who were taking advantage of the worshipers.

"The Jews" (the religious authority figures) were demanding to know his authority for such a disruptive action; they asked for a sign to demonstrate that authority.

"Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days," he replied [John 2:19]

That's kind of a pretty black-and-white statement, isn't it. There's nothing in the context to give away that this needed to be interpreted metaphorically, though Scripture tells us that detail [2:21].

Now let's be honest, this particular group of people were not experiencing a teachable moment. Rather, this was one of those times that they were not particularly disposed to hearing the truth from him. These people were apparently so committed to their authority (and to their profits) that they were unwilling to hear the truth. So he hides it in metaphor, but he doesn't tell the unteachable ones that he's hiding truth from them.  

Another situation was in John 6, where he was trying to speak truth about spiritual matters to people who had just had one free lunch and were looking for another. These guys were asking for a sign, too (v30), though they were not very subtle about the fact that they really wanted the free lunch (v31), and Jesus knew it (v26).

In all fairness, he spent quite a lot of energy (v35 - 51) trying to communicate actual truth with them. It seems to always happen: when their source of free food made it clear that there will not be any free food today, they turned on him (v51), and so he does it again: he speaks truth in metaphor, but doesn't tell them that it's a metaphor. (If you pay attention, you can maybe see this happening in our Federal government these days, too.)

"Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you." [John 6:53, and repeatedly through v58].

From the hindsight of the New Covenant and the Last Supper [See Luke 22], we know that he's talking about eating the bread and drinking the cup of the New Covenant; people who do not join with Him in the New Covenant don't have life in them. But they thought he was talking about literal cannibalism, and they had every reason to think that.

But being honest again, this group of people had resisted Jesus' best attempts at making this a teachable moment. These folks had committed themselves inflexibly to one view of Jesus. So again, he hides the truth in metaphor, but he doesn't tell the unteachable ones that he's hiding it from them.

And this is the point where that gets more than usually uncomfortable for me. I've been a rather un-gracious proponent of Biblical Literalism in various points in my history: Interpret it all literally unless it says not to. In fairness, I was reacting to a movement that had explained away all of the supernatural events in the Bible by calling them metaphors for spiritual reality. I didn't like that. (But over-reacting is seldom a successful response.)

And then I realized that Jesus is still in the business of hiding truth in plain sight. From time to time, he still hides the truth in metaphorical (or "apocalyptic" or even "prophetic") language. And he still doesn't tell us that he's doing that.

There are still believers for whom truth is hidden. There are some people who are so committed to their power, their position and their paycheck that despite their words, they don't really want the truth; it might threaten all that. And there are some believers who are so convinced that their view is the right view, so they shut down any truth that challenges that.

Some of these are Christian leaders, and I'm guessing that we could all point to some (but let's not, OK?). And scads of them write books and promote their views on social media, and I'm pretty sure we've all run into some of them.

But the bigger lesson is not for "them." It's for "me" and for "us." Not a one of us is immune from these truth-blinding errors. I guess we need to read the Bible for ourselves and let both Holy Spirit and our brothers & sisters help us see the truth that Jesus has hidden where we least expect it.

Missing the Point of Eternity

 Let's start with some backstory. A few years back, some friends of mine began teaching a new doctrine (well, new to me, anyway) that offended me, and not just a little bit.

Over-simplified, they began teaching that since we (already) have eternal life, therefore eternity is in play now, and therefore (and here's where I had trouble), we don't need to physically die. Eternal life can apply to our bodies, not just to our spirits.

These were people whom I know personally (some of them pretty wel), people I have learned to trust. I couldn't just blow it off as foolishness.

I was raised in a mainline denominational church. This would have been a scandal in that context, of course.  

Then I spent a bunch of years in fundamentalist evangelical congregations. They might have used the word "heresy."

But new revelation is kind of always scandalous to the previous generation, the previous move of God.

So I set out to prove that doctrine wrong. "Everybody knows you die, and then you go to Heaven!" That was my first problem. Things that begin with "Everybody knows" are pretty often messed up, and almost never as simple as they seem.

I put several months of study, interviews, prayer into trying to prove them wrong. I failed. I have been unable to prove that doctrine wrong.

I did not, however, prove them right. So I've left this is the "We'll see" category. But I didn't let it go. So every so often, I brought it out and discussed it with Father. There was a lot of re-hashing the same questions, the same objections. He mostly just smiled and nodded, but at least we enjoyed our time together.

Then one day, I think it was the nine-hundred-and-eleventy-third time I brought it up, he spoke.

"You're missing the point here, Son." And suddently I realized that if my primary concern about Eternity is when it starts, or what the transition points are like, then I've put my attention on the wrong subjects.

We have (more to the point, I have) more important responsibilities than fussing about whether my body will grow old and die, or whether I'll pull an Enoch, or whether it'll be something else entirely. I am (we are) still charged with praying, both in word and deed, "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven."

That's where my attention needs to be: the work of the Kingdom here and now. The Great Commission still stands, after all.

So will my body live forever? Honestly, I don't much care any more. My Dad & I have work to do here & now, and at some point (a point that he is responsible for, not me), our partnership will change perhaps both in object and location, but that's not at all my job now.

Somebody a whole lot smarter than me once said something about "So whether we live or we die, we are the Lord's." Maybe he was onto something.

Big Screen Day Priorities

 I found myself thinking about the Judgment of our works that Revelation chapter 20 talks about. I refer to this as big-screen day. I don't know why, but I suspect it's going to be public. I imagine you might be there when it's my turn to have my life displayed on the big screen.

By the way, it seems pretty clear that what we repent of is forgotten. So it would not surprise me if the only things listed in the books are the things that never needed forgiving, never needed repenting. In other words, the books might just record the things we actually did right. Just a thought.

So I was imagining big-screen day. I was imagining it was my turn to be on the screen, and I was imagining lots of people watching the strange little details of my life.

Suddenly it occurred to me how silly that was. I actually found myself saying out loud, "Guys, if it's my big-screen day, that means father is right there. Why in Heaven's name are you watching me? Get your eyes on him! He's worth watching. I'm not!"

It seems logical to me that when it is your turn to have your life displayed on the big screen, that I will be distracted by the king who has his hands on the controls. Nothing personal, I promise you. But it really is all about him!

Another Revival

I’m going to review some fairly controversial topics today. If you have trouble with God moving outside your comfort zone, you may not want to read this article. I’m serious: be careful! This may push your buttons.

We’re going to (well, I’m going to) talk about homosexual Christians, LGBT [Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender] Christians. And whatever other letters are used these days. We’re going to talk about what God is doing in this community.

This is a topic that’s going to trigger some folks. If you choose to comment, please comment on what I am actually saying, not (I repeat NOT) on what somebody else said at some other time and place. Our goal is to get OUT of the mess that religion has put us in and to see what God is doing.

The Bible is clear, Old Testament and New: the homosexual behavior going on in those cultures is sinful behavior. That's not what this is about. (Neither is this about the sinful behaviors of gossip or pride or gluttony or any of the other sins that are plaguing believers.)

This is about what God is doing.

One day, some years ago, I was with a small group, praying for some folks we knew that were stuck in homosexuality. It was one of those prayer sessions where you just know that God is hearing your prayers, even as he’s helping to shape them and encourage us in them. It was wonderful!

In the midst of that, I had a vision: I saw tens of thousands of people in the homosexual community were encountering Jesus. It was a huge movement, and God was in their midst. They were worshiping powerfully, and God was delighting in their praise. There were signs and wonders. Many were in tears, some because of His love, some because of their sin, but it wasn’t always the sin I was seeing that they were convicted of.

I began to praise God for that revival, for the many sons and daughters that were coming back to their Father, and as I did, the vision shifted and became even more real: suddenly I was in their midst as we were worshiping God. (Full disclosure: I am not gay.)

And then I realized: these people weren’t – or most of them weren’t – leaving their culture. Nearly all of them stayed in the homosexual community. And a very large number of them didn’t appear to repent of their homosexual ways as they encountered God.

Father began to gently instruct me in the midst of this vision:

1) When he calls people to himself, he does not call them to leave their culture. American Church Culture is not his goal. Relationship with Jesus is the goal. Hmm. OK. That’s true enough. American Church Culture is not God’s goal.

2) When he finally got ahold of my own life (after a longer fight than it frankly should have been), I was not sin-free. There were several sins that he took decades to put his finger on. In fact, He continued, “There are some things I haven’t pointed out to you even yet.” (Um... Yikes.)

But it’s true. If he didn’t point out– and by pointing out, give me grace to deal with – some of my sins for decades, why should I expect him to be less patient with his other sons and daughters?

3) And son, he said so very gently: these are my children, not yours. I am their Father, you are not. I am capable of raising My own children without your getting in their way. It was not (quite) a rebuke, but he was clear: he was not soliciting my opinion of how he fathers his children.

Since that experience, I’ve received reports that this is actually beginning to happen, that substantial numbers of people inside the LGBT community are discovering the Lover of their Souls!

I have received several credible testimonies from different people in different streams that describe to me a revival that is currently going on among the homosexual population. (At their request, and for their safety, I will not be releasing their identities. Some people do not respond well when God moves outside their box.)

These testimonies are from mature prophets and apostles, from people I know and trust, from mature believers who have been among some of these gatherings of gay believers – we might call them either church meetings or conferences – where the worship is powerful, where the Holy Spirit is present, where signs and wonders are in abundance, where Jesus is lifted up high. They have recognized God’s favor on the gatherings, and experienced His delight in them. Usually, it confused them the first few times, too.

I have met believers who are homosexuals, everywhere from your basic, timid churchgoers to flaming transsexuals proclaiming the gospel to their community. Some are content with their homosexuality; some want out but don’t know how; some are proud of their status, though these appear to be the primary ones who’ve taken the brunt of the church’s accusations.

I’ve said all this to arrive at this conclusion: God is moving powerfully in ways that we never expected. 

Maybe I shouldn’t speak for you: God is moving powerfully in ways that I never expected. And I have the strongest sense: Hold on to your hats, because God has more than this that he’s going to do that is way the heck outside of our box.

So how shall we respond to homosexuals that call themselves Christians?

That’s simple: we love them. Just like we’re called to love self-righteous people who call themselves Christians. Just like we're called to love everybody. We’re called to love.

We surely have no right to challenge the faith of either the gay community or the self-righteous community, or the hypocritical churchgoing community (or any other community). Frankly, we nearly always lack the right to challenge either their behavior or their culture. But we have the right to love them. We have the responsibility to love them.

I propose this: Let’s love one another, as Jesus commanded us, shall we? And let's trust our good Father to raise His children well.

And maybe we celebrate when people come to Jesus. He does.

So Many Rules!

I was thinking about the Old Covenant recently. Why were there so MANY laws and limitations?

I was reflecting that God had offered an AMAZING covenant relationship, very nearly the New Covenant way back then.

“‘Now therefore, if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, then you shall be a special treasure to Me above all people; for all the earth is Mine. ‘And you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ These are the words which you shall speak to the children of Israel.” [Exodus 19:5-6]
 

The people chickened out, rejected that covenant, and proposed another covenant.

Then they said to Moses, “You speak with us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us, lest we die.” [Exodus 20:19]

It was described more clearly in Deuteronomy:

“Go yourself [Moses] and listen to what the LORD our God says. Then come and tell us everything he tells you, and we will listen and obey.” [Deuteronomy 5:27]

I read that as the establishment of both the priesthood (“Moses, you go talk to God for us!”) and the Law (“You tell us what God says, and we'll do that!”).

And immediately afterwards, there's a mountain of detailed rules and regulations.

My thought has been, “Why would God do that?”

And then I realized: the Law was never intended to be the vehicle for God to relate to people; it was the vehicle for the people to keep God at a safe distance.

So God spiked the punch.

God never intended for the Mosaic Law (“The Old Covenant”) to succeed at forming the relationship between God and man. God intended it to fail (it wasn’t his idea anyway), but in failing, to point to the New Covenant, which now needed to be delayed for a while, until the people were ready for it.

“The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” [Romans 5:20]

“So then, the law was our guardian until Christ came, in order that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian.” [Galatians 3:24-25]

From that first moment on the mountain in Exodus, God was already planning to make his people ready for REAL covenant, for the New Covenant in Christ.

Dang, he’s amazing.

Growing Up With Jesus

 In John 7, there’s an interesting interaction between Jesus and his brothers:

Jesus' brothers said to him, "Leave Galilee and go to Judea, so that your disciples there may see the works you do. No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world." For even his own brothers did not believe in him. [John 7:3-5]
 

These are his adult brothers; they’ve lived with Jesus all of their lives, but they did not understand that he was more than just their big brother. It’s probably worth observing that these are his younger brothers, and younger brothers often are less than completely impressed with their big brothers, growing up, as they are, in his shadow.

More than that, as Jesus said to his neighbors, "A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home." [Mark 6:4] Not only did Jesus’ own brothers not believe in him, his hometown did not believe in him.
 
We know their names: “Isn't this the carpenter's son? Isn't his mother's name Mary, and aren't his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas?” [Matthew 13:55, see also Mark 6:3]

Interestingly, at least two of these brothers became believers later, and even ended up writing books of the New Testament: James & Judas [aka Jude], so clearly they were leaders among the believers. In Acts 15, brother James even appears to leads the mother church in Jerusalem.

I observe that folks who have obstacles in their families to believing, once they have made it past those obstacles, often are pretty effective in their faith. Those who oppose the work of Jesus can often find themselves supporting and serving him when they are able to see more clearly.

I also observe that family was a big thing. We’re pretty sensitive about the topic of nepotism in the Church in the West, and I don’t think it applies to the first generation church. If nothing else, neither James nor Jude claimed anything special because of their relationship to their big brother. But it’s nice to see the change they went through over the years.

I Like Some Things That Some People Don't Enjoy

I like my coffee strong. A couple of times a week, I make a very large pot of “cold brew fork coffee.” One pot will last me a couple of days.

You probably understand the “cold brew” part. “Fork coffee” is coffee that will hold a fork upright in the cup. (Er… it’s a metaphor. It’s strong, but not that strong!)

I have friends who like more modest coffee. And I have other friends who drink “why bother” coffee: decaf with nonfat milk and maybe a sugar substitute. And I have friends who really enjoy <gasp!> tea! Oh my goodness.  

So yeah, I like something that other people – even people that I know and love – don’t actually enjoy participating in.

It’s amazing how that works, isn’t it? People are different. Who would have thought?

There’s another “brown brewed beverage” that I also enjoy. I had a pint of it the other evening, with a slice of pizza, with my sweetheart on our “date night.” I had an Oatmeal Stout. (It’s a kind of very dark beer.)   

It’s a rare thing to find a good beer in these days. So many people are content with corporate beer (Budweiser, Coors, etc), and most of the beer nerds in my college town prefer IPA’s (India Pale Ale: strong & bitter, so that it could endure the sailing trip from England to India, way back in the colonial days).

Interestingly, I’ve seen men’s Bible studies going on in the particular micro-brewpub that she and I favor: believers are becoming less afraid of being seen with a beer. Or maybe they like the “edgy” vibe of being seen with a high-end micro-brew? I don’t know.

I like meat. Well, most meat. I’m not actually a real fan of “organ meat,” whether liver, kidney, heart, or whatever. I’ve had some that was disgusting. I’ve had some that was actually pretty good, but it’s still not my favorite.

I have friends who absolutely love chicken gizzards. And friends who really like liver-and-onions. And we’re still friends, despite that.

I know some people that really love large, corporate worship services, both mega-church and conference-type big ol’ worship events. My preference is for small gatherings: six or eight is a large group for me, but one-on-one over a cup of a brown brewed beverage or another.

Yet again: the things that bring me life are not the same things that bring other people life. Or you could say that the things that my brothers & sisters love may not be the same things that I love.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think that people are different from each other.

For example – and I don’t know if you’re aware of this – there were a few holidays we just passed. There will be some more holidays this year! Did you know that some people have different thoughts and feelings about that holiday than other people do?

We’re talking believers here!! Some believers believe that the holiday belongs to the devil and they want nothing to do with it!

And other believers look at the holiday as an opportunity to reach people who are pretty much unreachable the rest of the year.

Look, there’s a really solid answer that we can all live by, as long as we’re actually going to let other people be responsible for their own life choices:

You Do You. Let Them Do Them.

If you like the events surrounding these holidays, and you can keep your heart in line with our King in the midst of them, then go have fun! I know a guy that was real tight with God and he partied with tax collectors and hookers and “sinners?” He took a lot of grief for it from the religious folks of his day, but the religious spirit pretty much always works that way.

If you don’t like parties, or don’t like holiday food, or the relevant holiday colors or sundry holiday accouterments, then don’t celebrate them. You follow God according to your conscience, not according to someone else’s.

You do you. Do whatever works for you. Be real. Be genuine. And maybe be respectful.

My mentor said it this way: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

Cussing Out God

I feel the need to talk about a turning point I experienced a long time ago. I don’t remember having shared this before. Please be patient with me; it’s hard to talk about, and hard to write about. I find it kind of embarrassing for six or eleven reasons.

Many years ago, my bride and I joined a missions team planning to plant churches in a foreign country. In hindsight, I suspect we followed my spiritual ambition more than we followed Holy Spirit. Live and learn. But we have some remarkable memories of God’s faithfulness. (And did you know that the Amazon rainforest is really beautiful?)

There’s this aphorism in Christian culture: “Where God guides, he provides.” That’s true. But God does not necessarily provide where my ego and my ambition have guided me. Oh, we have stories of miraculous provision for ourselves and our children, but the mission – since it wasn’t a God-directed event – did not go well. It went down in flames.

We eventually made it home, tail between our legs, having spent every dime we had, having spent every relationship we had, completely destitute and desperately depressed. We had a place to live for a few weeks, but after that, unless God did yet another miracle, we’d be raising our flock of kids under a bridge somewhere.

The depression, the presence of very real failure, my inability to “get a job” like everybody told me to, it was all on my back, a heavy weight, for months, and eventually, for years.

Someone recognized I needed help, and made arrangements for me to see a therapist (a practice I completely support if you need it – and I needed it!!), but that didn’t go well at all.

The sign outside his office instructed me to wait in the lobby, but it turned out that he had no lobby, and I ended up unintentionally walking in on someone else’s session at a really intense moment, and I did that only 10 minutes after a homeless guy had walked in on the same session.

The therapist lost it, and as I retreated in shame, the Christian guy that was supposed to help me get out of my depression opened his door and shouted imprecations at me. Not very encouraging, actually.

I kind of lost it. I had risked everything on this adventure at obeying (what I thought was) what God had said, and I had failed miserably at being a missionary, failed miserably at being a Christian, failed miserably at being a provider for my family, and was currently failing miserably at life. I was making plans for the most discreet way to kill myself, and this guy that’s supposed to help me rages at me and angrily slams the door on me, literally.

So God and I had it out.

You know, when we talk about powerful interactions with the Almighty, they’re supposed to be uplifting and what-not. There’s a standard of how believers are supposed to behave in the presence of Majesty.

Yeah, not so much. This was ugly. God had (as I saw it) betrayed me yet again, and I was done with enduring. I let him have it.

I stomped out of the therapist’s office complex, and stormed around the block (around a whole lot of blocks, actually), shouting my rage at God. I used every four-letter word I knew and made up some new ones to accuse him with. I yelled at him at the top of my lungs, my face flushed, my eyes streaming, gesticulating wildly. I cussed him up one side and down the other. If I could have reached him, I would have beat him up (yeah, right!), I was that mad at him. I beat up the air in his direction.

It felt like hours, and in hindsight, I’m really surprised that nobody called the police. Or maybe they did, but the police were too scared to confront me. I’m not a small boy, and I was really wound up; I was not safe to approach. I kind of expected God to smite me, and I wasn’t opposed to that idea: he’d abandoned me and betrayed and left me hanging so badly already; smiting was the next logical step.

And through it all, he didn’t say a thing. He didn’t actually smite me. I kind of had the distant sense that I had his attention, but he just let me go on about my rage. In hindsight, I kind of felt like he was holding my hair so I could vomit freely and not get it all over me. He took none of my foul accusations personally.

But it turned out that the rage was the turning point in my depression. Oh, I still couldn’t get a job that would pay the bills, and I still needed literal miracles to feed and house my family, and those came as they were needed. But the rage and the depression and the hopelessness had their back broken in that tantrum. Interesting.

A couple of weeks later, I had an evening with a friend that had been hung out to dry as badly as I had been. We commiserated for a few hours, but as I left, I recall really clearly saying to God, “Lord, to whom shall I go? You have the words of life.” And I recall, with similar clarity, recognizing that I really believed it. It shocked me, actually.

That was a bunch of years ago. I’ve told God (and a few others) that I’m actually glad that whole seven-year season is in my past: I’m glad I’ve learned the lessons of His faithfulness, his patience, that I don’t know I could have learned any other way. And I’m equally glad that season is not in my present, or (I trust) in my future. I don’t ever want to go through that again. But I know Him so much better these days, and I trust him so much more now, as a result of that crisis, which kind of culminated in that tantrum.

So do I recommend to folks going through their own hell-and-high-water crisis that they follow my example and cuss God out? Oh, hell no! Don’t follow me. I’m not the role model for your crisis.

But I absolutely recommend that believers, whether in crisis or not, to be absolutely honest and open with God, even with the ugly bits. And I acknowledge that it sure might take something extraordinary to get at the ugly bits that we Christians are so good at hiding, even from ourselves. Yeah, that needs to get out. Clean out every bit of that stinky refrigerator called the subconscious! And get help if you need it.

Oh, and that therapist and I eventually made peace. It turned out that nobody had ever walked in on a session before that day, and this was a particularly fragile client. He was completely freaked out when we eventually did meet, but by then, I don’t know that I needed his services so badly: Father had held my hair and let me vomit, and now it was all out. I just needed help rinsing out my mouth and stumbling back to bed.