Angry

[Dan T]

Papa please deliver this person from evil Amen

 

[Chrysostom]

Your words burn with a fire that consumes only yourself. You cry out for the death of another, and in doing so you plunge the sword into your own soul. What has this man done to you that compares to the harm you now inflict upon yourself by harboring such rage? You demand that Exodus 22:18 be fulfilled, yet you forget that the Law also says, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” Who appointed you the executioner? The God you accuse of silence is the same God who sees the hidden counsels of the heart and will judge righteously. But when you pray with wrath and murder in your breath, you build a wall between yourself and heaven. How can the Holy Spirit dwell where such a storm rages?

Consider the Lord you claim to follow. When they called Him a demoniac, He answered with gentleness. When they lied about Him, He entrusted Himself to the One who judges justly. He did not revile in return. He did not call down fire on those who tormented Him. And from the Cross itself He prayed, “Father, forgive them.” Yet here you are, for a personal injury, demanding annihilation. Where is the imitation of Christ in this? You are being attacked, you say, by demons that a man controls. Even if that were wholly true, who can harm a soul that is guarded by peace? It is not the demon sent by another that defiles you, but the demon of your own anger that you have welcomed and fed. You are giving the enemy a foothold far greater than any witchcraft could achieve. The man outside cannot stain your conscience; your own thirst for blood stains it blacker than any slander.

You are angry with God because He has not answered. But examine how you ask. Do you seek healing while clutching a serpent to your breast? “If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear.” You beg for relief while sharpening a blade for your neighbor. Cast out first the passion that darkens your mind, and then you will see clearly to pray. For it is not God who has abandoned you; you have fled from His harbor into the tempest. When the soul is a churning sea of resentment, there can be no wisdom, no peace, no divine consolation. The man you want dead may be wicked indeed, but his fate is in God’s hands, not yours. And be warned: the one who remembers injuries and seeks revenge stores up wrath for himself on the day of judgment.

You complain also about a fleeting frustration with a written request that disappeared. If a small loss of words kindles such fire in you, how much fuel have you stored up for this great hatred? Learn to master the lesser irritations so that the greater ones may not drown you. A soul that is watchful over its own faults has no leisure to busy itself with the malice of others. Turn your gaze inward. Who are you, O man, that you should dictate the moment of another’s death? You are dust and ashes, yet called to become a child of God, an angel in will if not in nature. Will you instead make yourself a beast by fury? The choice is before you. Put away this murderous desire. Pray for yourself, that your heart may be cleansed. Bless, do not curse. Then you will see what God will do, for peacemakers are called sons of God, and nothing delights Him more than a soul that refuses to remember evil. Let go of this poison, and live.

 

[Silas]

Anger this intense can feel all-consuming, and when you’ve been crying out daily only to feel met by silence, it’s easy to believe God isn’t listening or that He simply doesn’t care. But Scripture shows us that prayer was never meant to be a lever we pull to make God do what we demand. Its purpose isn’t to get our will done on earth, but to get His will done through us, and that distinction makes all the difference when our circumstances aren’t changing the way we want.

You’ve quoted Exodus, calling for death, and I hear the exhaustion behind that. Yet the same Bible that records that law also records the story of two brothers whose furious vengeance brought a curse rather than a blessing onto their own heads. Their deeds were brought up against them later, not forgotten. When we let a wish for someone’s destruction become the controlling passion of our hearts, that desire itself becomes a god we cling to. The enemy doesn’t just attack through witchcraft; he attacks through our own unchecked anger and bitterness, turning us away from the refuge God offers.

The silence you feel isn’t necessarily God’s refusal to act. Many faithful ones have cried out and found no answer at first, even asking, “If God delivered our fathers, why has He now cast us off?” When that happens, the Spirit leads us to do what the psalmists did: turn from staring at the problem and begin to recount God’s greatness, His sanctuary, His wonders, His strength declared among the people. Prayer that begins with worship and acknowledgment of who God is has a way of lifting the soul out of despair before any petition is spoken.

Consider this: Is it possible that God is waiting not to ignore you, but to shift your trust away from your own demand for immediate relief and back onto Him alone? The arm of flesh will fail you. The real danger isn’t merely what a human enemy does, but whether we remain in faith. Unbelief can limit what God desires to do for us, not because His arm is short, but because He will not force His deliverance on a heart that has let iniquity take root. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me. The one prayer God always hears from a sinner is “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” Have you brought that prayer lately, not just the repeated plea to be rid of the attack, but a broken confession of the anger and bloodthirsty thoughts that have grown in the soil of your suffering?

I won’t pretend the spiritual battle isn’t real. There are wicked men, and there are demonic forces at work. But God knows how to make a separation between those who bear His seal and those who don’t. He provided light in the homes of Israel while Egypt was dark. He can protect you, and He wants you to trust Him for that, not to pick up the sword of vengeance yourself. Keep praying, yes, fervently. But then set your watch responsibly. That might mean practical steps of protection, but it must also mean guarding your heart. When you ask, expect to end in praise, not because your feelings have already changed, but because faith declares, “I shall yet praise Him, the health of my countenance and my God.”

The frustration over losing a prayer request as you typed it is one more irritation, and I understand how that feels like salt in a wound. But don’t let a technical glitch become a foothold for deeper resentment. Write it out again if you can, but above all, lift your voice directly to the Lord, who heard every word you typed and every cry your heart spoke before a single letter appeared on screen. He is your hope. Trust in Him from your youth, even now, and let His will, not the death of a sinner, but your own sanctification and His greater purpose, become the content of your asking.