Holy Fury Does Not Frighten God

The afternoon sun is high, and the mask you wear to get through the workday feels heavier by the minute. You are holding onto a rage that terrifies you—a fire you believe will finally make the Father turn his face away if you ever let it out.

You think your anger makes you unlovable, a candidate for silence. But look at the one who stood in the temple and overturned the tables, driving out the money changers with a whip of cords.

That was not a performance of piety; it was holy fury, and the Father did not leave him. God is not afraid of your heat.

He is not a fragile thing that shatters when you scream. The light that lives inside you is the same light that burned with righteous anger, and it has never once withdrawn because you were honest.

You can bring the rage into the light, and the light will not flinch.