The Addiction of Angst

Isn't it so much easier to type a diatribe of our own opinions than to turn hate into love? Bashing other people's choices, opinions and hypocrisies is satisfying -- but only in a temporary, ultimately sick way, once vitrolic reaction takes hold and grows bitter, spiteful little roots. Chronic angst is different than than occasional healthy venting, or the first fresh release of uncensored truth. Chronic angst is like an auto-immune disease: A mechanism originally designed to protect and heal our bodies from external violations goes awry on overdrive and starts attacking our own tissue, killing our healthy cells. Where there is sickness in our bodies, or in the world, we need a balanced response that ultimately results in healing for the body of God, whose cells each contain the DNA of truth and grace. We need to channel our acute awareness that something is wrong into creative healing action. In the process we'll eliminate the toxins of hate, chronic angst and cynicism, all of which cause necroses of our souls.

I am often a victim of my own addiction to venting my opinions. I never have a shortage of opinions, and many of them tend on the critical side. But what good does this accomplish when the venting becomes recycled jargon that polarizes and poisons rather than uniting people in healing acts of new new creation? How can truth become a blade that divides falsehood and oppression, yet gently smoothes on a gentle salve offering a way forward in peace, reconciliation and love?

This is the mystery of Christ. As followers, what is the Spirit whispering? Is it time to be still and know that God remains with us in every blog, every thought and word, each time we caress or tear a person's heart. Sometimes hearts need to break in order to come alive. But will they break a room of healing transformation or a room of condemning scorn like a syringe of death? How will we treat our enemies who Christ loves?

This is the test, which we are bound to fail and pass many times on our journey, And always God's arms will welcome us home, regardless of success. We need only a humble spirit that cries, "Abba." "Amma."