Portraits of Grace is a snapshot into the lives of the people at King’s Cross Church. As “kingdom minded, kingdom people,” we recognize God’s work in every detail of our lives. We invite you to meet the people of our church.

“If I lose, if I lose, let me lose.” Gillian Welch

When I am angry, it feels like nothing really matters but my feeling at the very moment. It feels like my whole being is swept up into one big black hole of anger. Even if I have to lose, I will lose. I want to lose. I am willing to lose. If I lose, let me lose. That’s how I feel when I get angry and how I lose my battles with anger. One of the terrible effects of this sin is I become numb to the people and circumstances around me, insensitive, inconsiderate, incapable of thinking of the feelings of others. I give in to the rushing eruption of this monstrous emotion. In the midst of that moment, losing control of myself doesn’t matter because that’s what I want: I want to sin. When the moment of anger passes, I realize how sinfully I reacted to the situation. I regret. I make my apologies and ask for forgiveness. But somehow it’s too late. The explosion has occurred, the damage is done.

I didn’t realize my anger problem until I married (I have been married for 5 years). During the first year of our marriage, we had to go through a great deal of personality clash. It was tough. Many times, in frustration, I reacted in anger to the challenges we faced, which was having a great and negative impact on our relationship. My anger kept me from having constructive communication with Ben. Thus, our relationship was not growing in depth. I remember Ben called me out one day and told me that I have to seriously reflect on this issue and make changes. At first, I quietly dismissed his advice in my heart because I believed my anger was legitimate. My reasons were not nonsense. My anger was reasonable and even righteous. I was utterly blinded by sin.

Ben’s reminders helped me think about the underlying problems and see the pattern of my sinfulness: how much I enjoy being in control, sought this control through anger, and how much I didn’t want to give it up to God, because having control felt really good. I repeatedly gave in to this false sense of euphoria and power, which was enslaving me. Seeing my sin, even dimly, was only the start, of course, the pattern of sin continued and I struggled and felt defeated by it. One day, my three-year-old son, Eugene, asked me when I was raising my voice in an angry tone, “Are you a good mommy or a bad mommy?” I couldn’t answer. I needed to fight this sin and fight hard. But how?