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See to it that… no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble

 I saw a lot of human anger yesterday.
Screaming, tears, words flung that stick deeply in the back.
Hurts dredged up from years ago – their cumulative weight crushing thoughts of reconciliation.
Spirits crouched like a wounded animal, alternatively licking its wounds and lunging at anyone coming close.
Words urging forgiveness brushed away with recitations of offense.
The best resolution thought possible – “I just won’t speak to her anymore” – ends in screaming.
Five long hours a scant sentence in the story of lifelong feud. 

While we were still sinners, Christ died for us

He had every right to be angry with me.
I was born screaming at Him, fighting, irreverence flung in His face.
Pretending He’d done something wrong – blaming Him for the offenses of people.
And while my spirit crouched defensively, ready to snap whenever He came close, His spirit was busy finding a way to reconciliation.
Every time I brushed away His forgiveness with recitations of my own efforts, He re-extended His hand full of grace. 

Your anger has turned away and you have comforted me

Perhaps it is because this is so unlike human anger that it startles me each time I read it.
He doesn’t just call a silent truce, resolving simply not to speak with me.
He stills His anger, turns and embraces me.
The fight drains out of my stiffened, arching spirit.
I expect a recitation of my offenses, but He Whispers something about a deep, deep sea and hugs me closer.
While I watch Him cautiously, waiting for the first hint of accusation, He points tearfully at a cross.
“All that,” He whispers, “all that for this reconciliation. All that for peace between us.”