I stayed here a little too long this morn, and in clicking around, managed to read 3 Very Angry Women essays. I find that I must ask myself where these folks stop and I begin — or is there a demarcation line? How much of my sisters’ woe do I need to carry? Is it going to help anything?
I ask because there are Very Angry Men out there as well, and Very Angry Youngsters. Where do these stop and I begin — or is there a demarcation line at all? How much of my fellow humans’ woe do I need to carry? Is it going to help anything?
Yes. I don’t know where any others’ lines end or I begin, because injustice to one seems to me injustice to all. We are mankind. If I carry, I may be more aware of those around me. Or the injustice may come up in conversation. Or a conflict may arise in actuality. If I know nothing about it, I can’t speak to injustice and pain and help hammer out some resolution, even briefly or fleeting — which is all some of us need to get through the day.
The same is true for the Christ Life. He was a very Unangry Man and left the essays to others. Left the words and words and words to others. If I know nothing of Him, though, and if I do not carry, I can’t speak to the Hope He left behind.
At any rate, I think three long treatments of unjust life a day are my saturation point for remaining aware but at peace enough to get my own everyones through the day!
The other day, in one drifting conversation with the Lord as I drove, I heard myself say, “Marana-tha.” I meant it. It’s time. It’s not time to end the world as we know it, I hope, for that is a bit frightening, though it holds a similar promise to life after blind gestation! But it is time for Him to return to our midst. Time to hand the ball back to Him. He knows this whole game inside and out. An expert. The expert.