A Woman, A Christian, AND Angry? Oh my!

For those of you unfamiliar with the Christian culture, specifically the fundamentalist/evangelical branch of it, you may not be aware of this, but Christian women are apparently not supposed to get angry.  Yeah, I know. I was shocked, too.  Apparently, it isn't godly, or feminine, or cool to be a woman, a Christian and pissed off. Oh, and yeah, we probably shouldn't say things like "pissed off" either.  My bad.

I have had Christian men come across the table at me in anger during Bible studies because I disagreed with them and wasn't convinced by their arguments.  I have been called a "Monica Lewinsky" at a board meeting of mostly men...I'll let you figure out the reference.  I have had to listen to a male lay leader make an angry public announcement that accused me of adultery and deceit, in a meeting full of people that included my 12 year old daughter.  In all of these instances, I had to bite my tongue. Swallow my anger. In the church, as a woman, I learned early that if I allow myself to get angry, I immediately lost any credibility that I had.  Not that I had much, but still...

Later, I listened to a lay couple counsel my husband and I, a couple who were clearly untrained and unfamiliar with the domestic violence issues that we were dealing with.They counselled me to avoid making my husband angry. When I got angry at this advice, it felt very much as if my "female" rebellion was exposed. It made no difference that my rage-obsessed husband was sitting across the table from me in a seething fury.  My anger was abusive. His was justified.  What evil, deviant, horrific words did I spit out in the verbal abuse that I was accused of? Recently I asked my ex-husband what I had said that was so abusive.  His reply? I called him a bully.  A liar.  Lazy.  This is what constitutes angry, violent abuse in a Christian woman.  Apparently, a Christian man can get away with anything.

I say this now because I am angry.  And fighting the urge to apologize. Recently I wrote an email telling a friend of mine that if she has any knowledge about who might be supporting my "bully" in his threats against my daughter and I, she should share it with me.  When I read the email now, I am sickened at how apologetic I sound.  Like, if you're comfortable sharing...maybe you should pray about it...whatever you think is right... Seriously?  Everybody I have told about the threats I received on Saturday, including the police, were deeply concerned for the safety of my daughter and I. And I know things that make the threat even worse.  Why the hell am I being apologetic about asking for info that might protect us? Why do I even have to ask?  Damn!  I am angry!

You know what I love? I wrote about this situation to my pastor last night.  My Presbyterian pastor is a woman.  And you know what? She was angry. She wrote in caps and everything, and used lots of exclamation marks.  She was royally PISSED!!!!!  How brilliant is that?

As I read her email, I swallowed the urge to console her and instead, allowed her indignant fury to minister to me.  And then I heard from my best friend, and lo and behold, more exclamation marks of anger!  There are no men in my life who are close enough to me or brave enough to be moved to protective anger.  Sometimes, it is hard to feel God's protectiveness, when everyone is trying to be rational and safe.  But  when people we love are being threatened and wounded, the fact that we love them makes us angry.  If we are not angry, then we either do not love them out of apathy, or our fear has squelched the love.

 I am surrounded by brave, loving, compassionate women who see the danger that my daughter and I are in, and who are angry about it.  And their anger is a balm to my soul. It is not out of control. It is not hate-filled. It is love-induced. It makes me feel valued. Loved. And so not alone.

 How can I ever trust the powerful, holy, protective anger of God if the men in my life don't care enough to bother and the women are more interested in being safe and accepted than they are in being real and alive?

My pastor and my best friend have showed the heart of God for me, when they react in anger at the injustice and hate that has been directed at my child and I.  They give me freedom and courage to be honest about my own anger.  The truth is, I trust God more now than I ever have in my life.  God is giving me courage to do things that I need to do to protect myself.  Including calling the police and telling them the truth no matter what vengeful ramifications might come my way.  My bullies may see my anger as rebellion, abusive, demonic...I see it as a God-given reaction, a mother charged with protecting herself and her child, and a loving call to action and courage and strength.

I have no desire to hurt anyone.  I am not responsible for the behaviour of the bullies who threaten me. I don't want to be here any more that anyone else does.  But I promise this.  If anyone knows anything that might serve to protect my daughter and I, and does not share it with me, and if we are harmed in anyway because of their silence, I will be angry.  Seriously angry.  I'm a Presbyterian now, and apparently we're allowed to be women AND angry. So be prepared.  There are laws for a reason.  God is a just God.  And I am not alone.

Peace out.

Just in Time for Anti-Bullying Day...

I wrote recently about my snow shoveling pal, the one who "knew what was wrong with me."  I heard from him again today.  Only this time, it got real.

He told me that God had not only told him what was wrong with me - his diagnosis, by the way? Psychopathic  narcissism - but God had told him, and had confirmed it through other people, how to help me with my condition.  When I politely declined, I was warned that God had also told him and the others that, should I refuse to allow them to "help" me, they were to "expose" me.

I am not sure what this exposure will entail.  I did ask him if he was getting help for his (obvious) issues,  but he responded negatively (and indignantly), and I hung up on him.

I was also told that my "helpers" are aware that I am not crazy.  Apparently this is a moral issue.  I am evil.  I suspect their "help" involves some form of praying the devil out of me.  Or maybe an exorcism.

You think I'm joking?  Sadly, I'm not.

Anti-bullying day is coming up. This is a clear and vicious form of bullying. The people who are supporting this fellow are church people. I cannot call them Christians. I see no Jesus in this.  I have tried to be subtle, to protect the obviously mentally ill person who is leading this charge.  But I think the time is coming when that will not be possible.  I have called the police. My "helper" is known to them.  This is all too real.

And I am not going through this in silence.  I am not becoming invisible, to accommodate a group of religious bullies who believe God gives divine rights to them, to punish "rebellious women and children". Not this woman. Not my child. Not any woman and child. Or man, for that matter.

Tonight, I want to share how I feel. Right now. This may not be how I will feel tomorrow. Or even in an hour. But it is how I feel about the threats, the aggression, the attack that has been perpetrated on me today. Please, if you feel the need to correct me on any of these feelings, don't.  These are just my feelings, and I suspect that they are feelings that anyone who has been bullied, or is being bullied, recognizes.  They are real. They may not represent reality, but they are real.  I may not be alone, but I feel alone. The point is to be real, and honest, and to make plain what others are trying to shove into darkness.

So, yes. I feel alone.

I feel scared. Terrified. I don't even know what I was actually threatened with. This is scary to me.

I feel unprotected.  Vulnerable. Weak. Empty.

I don't want to be here. I don't want to do this, to go through this, to be me.  I want to hide, to escape, to be invisible.

I am angry.  Furious. Seriously and wildly pissed off.  At the person who called me. At the church people who are enabling and encouraging him. I have had several people tell me that he tried to call them. They saw through him, and refused to listen.  He is obviously not well.  The police who have seen him have seen it. Several counselors have seen it. His friends have seen it.  One of his closest friends told me, "I think he's sicker than we originally thought".  Ah...but throw a bit of religious rule disobeying in the mix, and these religious freaks are all over him.  Pull out the pitch forks!  Saddle the horses! Let's take this heretic DOWN!!!  This makes me mad, mad, mad.  Mad.

I feel guilty.  Guilty that people who love me have to deal with this, that my child has to deal with this, that I didn't handle it better in the beginning.

I feel tired. Tired of fighting, of trying, of living.

I feel hopeless.  And did I mention feeling alone?  When my mum was dying, she became very maternal and protective of me. She kept offering me money and asking me if I was okay.  This was a new dynamic for us.  After she died, I found myself wanting to lie with my head in her lap. To be protected and cared for.  To know that someone was going to take care of me, to help me, to chase the dragons away.  I feel like that now.  As much as I rejoice in the knowledge that if my mum was alive, she would want to do that for me, I mourn the loss of her, and her mother-ness.  I want my mommy.

I don't know how to stop this. To make it go away.  To fight the lies and hate. I don't understand this kind of hate.  I'm not perfect, and I have hated. I have had moments when I have wanted to hurt someone. But to be so cold, calculated...to justify it by blaming it on God?!  I don't get it.  And it scares me.

I want to hide. To be quiet. To disappear. I used to be able to disappear. Imagine that.  Me. Blending into the scenery. Hiding.  A lot has changed, eh?  Sometimes, I wish I could still do it. But when I do try it, it feels like dying. Seriously.  It feels like going to a dark and dangerous place. I can't do it.  But man alive, right now, I want to.

I also feel angry at God. (Please folks, remember. No corrections.)  I want Him to drop the hammer. To send the thunder and lightening. To work a miracle and bring back the person that I knew and loved, not the hard, cold, angry person who is threatening me now.  And failing that, I want Him to stomp out my oppressors. To expose them like they threaten to do to me.  And maybe He will. In His time. But I want it done NOW!

I feel sad. Heartbroken.  I want to curl into a ball and weep. I feel old. In so much pain.  And then I think, the bullies might be reading this and rejoicing in my pain and then I feel angry again.

I just want it all to stop!

And that's how I feel.  And if you feel like this too, I am so sorry.  I know it is hard.  I know.  As angry as I am at God, I have no where to go but to Him, and I do it with faith.  Because I may not have enough faith not to be angry, but I do have enough to know, know, know that my anger does not change His love for me.  Or for you.  Please, please, please don't give up. Don't let go. This is how it feels today, now. But it is not forever. You know, when they say it gets better? It does. Really. I know this. I don't feel it right now. But I KNOW it.  We are precious and loved and our lives are worth living. Our voices are worth hearing.

And if you want to share your voice, to be heard, please email me. markelacie@gmail.com. I promise to listen.

For you, dear wounded one, I can be quiet.

Peace out.

Hearts of Stone, Hearts of Flesh

"I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. Then they will follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. They will be my people, and I will be their God." Ezekiel 11:19-20


There are few things more difficult than loving someone who is filled with hate. Hatred is such a cold, hard thing. Like a stone. Often, we can tell when people are trapped in hate just by spending a few moments with them. They are like granite, harsh, even sharp. Graceless, angry, bitter, sour, frigid. There is the feeling that if we bumped up against them, it would hurt. Even a mistake would earn us retaliation. Cold words. A heartless rebuke. Sarcasm. Ridicule. Disdain. God help us if we ever sin against a person filled with hate. Forgiveness does not seem like an option.

I think the most distressing thing about loving someone like this is the fear that nothing could every break through the steely armor that has been built around them. It feels as if we will never be able to touch their hearts, to move them to softness, compassion. The fact is, it is entirely possible that we will never be able to penetrate the fortress of their hatred. Hearts of stone are notoriously difficult to move.

Thankfully, God is in the habit of changing hearts of stone into hearts of flesh. Gentleness, kindness, compassion and love can be restored. Yes, it is a choice, but there is a price to be paid for choosing a heart of stone. God graciously sees to it that the pain of a cold heart is deeply felt. Hateful people are not happy people. Behind the clenched teeth and steely eyes lies a deep well of pain and torment, loneliness and longing. God gives every incentive and every opportunity to seek change. We can trust Him, and rest in His willingness and ability to work in the hearts of those we love.

There are few things more difficult than loving someone who is filled with hate. Still, with God's Spirit within us, with His love, wisdom and patience, difficult things become possibilities.

More thoughts on bullying...

This is just a short one.

When we walk away from the angry, hate-filled words of an aggressor, we are leaving them alone with their hate. They will be in pain, because hate hurts it's carrier. We will be blamed for the pain. It is as if they are banging their head against the wall and cursing us for causing their pain. The pain of hatred and rage belong to the one who hates. As we walk away, we need to let it all go and walk away free. Feel sorrow for the one allowing themselves to be in such pain, if you can, but do not own what you cannot control.

We must not for one moment allow ourselves to think that by banging our heads on the wall beside the one who hates, we will in any way relieve their pain. We will just increase our own.

Walk away. Walk free.