I recently watched the movie Footloose. I was pleasantly lulled back to a time when Kevin Bacon was a ‘fox’, the ‘Brat Pack’ set the fashion trends, and feathered hair ruled the prom.
I love the messages of Footloose. ‘Celebrate!’ ‘This is our time!’ ‘Dance!’ ‘Break free!’ Yet somewhere, between the bouncing music, peach chiffon dresses and frilly tuxedoes, I had forgot that those kids were angry. They were angry at being fenced in, tied down and cooped up. The rules and restrictions placed on them pressed in relentlessly. They just wanted a little space to be young and to dance.
I was one of those angry teens. I was angry that life did not work out the way I thought it was supposed to. I naively thought that if I liked my friends enough, then they would automatically like me, too. Instead, what I learned was that betrayal and mistrust was my ‘normal’.
The weight of the unwritten rules was oppressive. ‘Conform or be shunned’. I felt caught in a boxing match with no training. I was trapped against the ropes, cringing in fear of the next blow.
The best help I received? Well meaning adults telling me that ‘Life is not fair. That’s just how it is.’ In other words, give up. Resign yourself to thinking that “This is as good as it gets.”
I often thought, “What?! THIS is God’s best for me? THIS is God’s great plan for my life?” What a colossal disappointment!
Ohhhh…yes. It made me angry.
Though time and maturity have healed many old wounds of my heart, I have made a fresh discovery. I am still angry.
I admit, I am a little angry when I run out of coffee. I am slightly more angry when tools break when I need them most. But ultimately, I am angry when dreams begin to come true but come unraveled. I am angry when I think I’m right only to find out later that I was wrong. I am angry that my friends suffer physical pain. I am angry when my own doubts and fears disappoint me. I am angry when a friend loses a needed job. I am angry when a relationship ends. I am angry when people I love stay mired in their mess. I am angry when a loved one dies. I am angry when I feel guilty for being angry!
However, the Bible says there is a time to be angry. It’s okay to be angry at pain, suffering and injustice. It’s okay to rage against poverty, destruction and death. That’s how bad situations get better. Someone usually gets very angry which turns the tide and breaks the “status quo”.
The question facing me is this: what will I do with my anger? Will I lash out? Will I push it deep, deep within myself, pretending to ignore it?
Or will I choose to run headlong into it with a fiery defiance that channels the emotional energy to bring justice and relief? Will I get angry enough to take a stand against the lie that says, “Life is not fair. That’s just how it is. It doesn’t get any better than this”?
I would like to think that my anger has been refocused and redirected to create some positive change in this rough world. I wish that someone were a little better because they were friends with me. I hope that I have been strong enough to make some sort of impact against the forces of opposition.
In reality, some days I wonder if I am effective in my prayers and my actions. I feel torn between giving up and going on. Some days I feel worn out by the fight. I feel hopeless, trampled down, and completely inadequate. In those moments I say, “I can’t do this!”
That’s when I think to myself, “I need a Hero!”
I need Someone who will be strong for me. I need Someone who’s perfect timing thwarts the onslaught of the fiery arrows of wicked accusations. I need Someone who knows how to outwit the plans of evil; Someone familiar with the enemy’s tactics and will counterattack on my behalf. I need Someone who has the power and authority to bring change that lasts, to bring justice and truth to any situation. I need Someone who is secure enough to not let the dark places of my heart scare Him. I need Someone who protectively watches over every move I make and knows exactly what I need to keep fighting. I need Someone who also knows when it’s time to give me a reprieve from the raging battle.
Sometimes, when I sleep, I dream of a Gandolf-like figure that surges into my desperation on a white stallion and sweeps me off my feet to a place of triumph, security, rest. In my reverie He approaches me with power and gentleness, authority and peace, safety and wildness. Being with Him revitalizes and invigorates me. His presence burns like fire in my blood.
When I awaken, my passion and intensity concentrate into a fierce desire to fight for freedom for the imprisoned, the oppressed and the burdened once again.
In the red-skied dawn my Hero and I charge from our mountain fortress with a purple and gold banner splayed, proclaiming “Victory!” to those who will join us in battle! Joy is our strength! Love is our motivation! Hope is our message!
So, COME! DANCE! CELEBRATE! Our Hero is here!
(Inspired by Holding Out For A Hero, by Bonnie Tyler, from the movie Footloose)
