I asked my web designer to change my page to “The Angry Christian.” She, of course, declined. That was months ago, and today, I’m still pondering the idea—not because I’m angry all the time but because I do get angry. I mean, don’t we all?
I went through a great ordeal this past several years. I never wrote about it. I couldn’t. I still haven’t. Perhaps my ordeal is the reason my projects have been delayed. Perhaps, it’s just another good excuse.
But I did go through an ordeal, and I wrote many-a poem those days, but I couldn’t focus on my big projects—like Terrebonne. So, while many projects got stalled, my writing style grew. It developed into something many call dark.
I was angry. So what that I was a Christian? I was, in those moments, angry, and there was nothing wrong with that . . . as long as I didn’t stay there; although, I was there a long time. I knew I wasn’t alone in my anger, even though I sometimes felt I was. I knew other people—other Christians—felt at times the way I was currently feeling, and the more I thought it, the more I wanted to share it.
Some called it dark. I called it human. I was feeling emotions and asking questions that were normal for the human state we were made to be in. We are a kaleidoscope of emotions that shift and morph with the slightest turn. The image of the world we look at through our long and tubular sight can easily change with the slightest bump. Sometimes, the new image is similar to the previous one, and other times, it’s an unrecognizable transformation.
I’ve yet to figure out which mine was.