I had never thought of distinguishing fury and rage in that way, but I love it. It's a really interesting way to conceptualize it! I have been through a few boom-and-bust cycles over the years of apathy and extreme emotional distress about the state of the world, and trying to care without self- destructing is something I struggle with. I like the idea of a steady burn, and focus.
In the meantime, I enjoy the ridiculously unseasonable warm weather here in Missouri, even as it sparks anxiety about the warming climate. I'm trying to appreciate the daffodils and plant seeds, even so.
Thank you as always for your thought provoking posts!
We're still quite a ways away from spring planting time in Michigan. It's lovely not to have to put a coat on to go outside, and also, it's disconcerting not to have to put a coat on to go outside in early March.
I'm not sure I've ever used the words rage or fury. I've certainly read them but I'm not sure I've ever given much thought as to their difference. I'll be paying attention now.
I wonder if some of us were brought up not to allow fury or rage. I know that, in my culture, the expression of either would have been seen as inappropriate at best.
I appreciate your distinction between rage and fury. Over the past few weeks I’ve been feeling stuck in my rage, and this makes me ponder what it would look like to transform that rage into fury.
Explaining might be difficult, but I'll try. I find that so often anger burns into grief and I become overcome with despondency and/or anxiety. It's not something I can sustain, especially with very dependent children. I sometimes wish I could be a force in the world but it all just feels too much. I think I still have some recovery to do after trying and failing to get certain people to give a damn about my disabled community during the pandemic and should probably get some therapy one of these days.
I wonder if there's some kind of culturally ingrained expectation of what it means to be a "force in the world"—as if goodness had to be perfected. Maybe you can just be you, which is to say, angry and sad and anxious and loving and caring and caretaking all at the same time. For instance, you mention your disappointment with how people regarded (or didn't) the disabled community over the past few years; to me, that says something about your love and your care for that community. That love is a beautiful and living thing, even if, some days, it manifests as anger and/or grief. All these things can be true at once.
There’s a WWII movie starring Brad Pitt titled “Fury.” It the name of their tank. There is plenty of rage and fury depicted in the violence of war. As an aside, we look forward to having you as our guest on April 11 — Still Processing event, Holland, MI, at the Brew Merchant.
I received a call and video message from my 21 yr old daughter last week. She was distraught and crying about the suffering and death in Gaza. She didn't know what to do with the pain of knowing what was happening and yet feeling helpless to respond in a meaningful way. I tried to comfort her and help place things in perspective, even though I am feeling the same way. At the time, I shared with her the story of the Muslim communities in Dearborn, MI, mobilizing their members to vote "uncommitted" in the primary as a protest vote and political warning shot. This week I will share your post. I have shared your writing with her in the past (because she is a literature and creative writing major) as an example of beautiful, vulnerable commentary on our human experience.
I so appreciate your angle on walking this Christian life - that it's best done with others - and I'm so thankful for your voice when things feel dark, letting us know we're not alone.
One of the strange things about living in these technologically mediated times is that we have so much more access to images that, just a few years ago, would not have been accessible. There are obviously both benefits and consequences to that kind of accessibility. A downside? I don't think our spirits and our bodies know how to handle the onslaught.
I am not sure I have felt rage or fury. I do know I have felt anger. My problem is knowing how or what to do with it. I do like your distinction between rage and fury.
The few crocus that I have left are blooming. The daffodils have not pushed up any stalks yet, but one of the day lilies had green shoots on our warm day in February and then were covered with snow the next day. But, that's Grand Rapids for you. Have not seen any bees, but lots of flies and other insects.
This is a very helpful distinction. For years now I've been telling everyone "I'm so angry." But it didn't feel strong enough, deep enough, for what I'm feeling. I realize now, I am furious. Yes. It is a deep burn about what is wrong wrong wrong. I have been trying, and not altogether successfully, to not just blast the ever living snot out of people over all this stuff, to remember that folks who aren't aligned with me are still people and not monsters/deplorables. To not rage. Phew. It's hard. Thank you for the image of the wildfire vs the controlled burn. (I live in CA, so that is a powerful metaphor for me.) Redoubling my efforts to not blast.
In our garden we are delighting in starflowers, daffodils, and now freesia brightening a grey and soggy lent. I'm glad you are seeing some too.
In terms of prayer, in the last two days there have been medical disasters for so many people I can't even describe it all. I am holding Heidi, Bob, Mike, Michael, Pete, LG, and Jack in prayer. I am so thankful for the presence and comfort of Jesus right now and am asking that these folks feel Him with them through the scary, sad things they are dealing with. Thank you for praying for us.
My husband and I are praying for your ordination. Congratulations again.
Thank you for the proof of Fozzie’s life. That’s a balm. I wish my fury wasn’t so frightening that I could be clear what to do. Or maybe I’m blinded by rage and afraid to do something hurtful. I appreciate your exploration. Spring is here. I will take it with heart. Also I pray for your ordination ❤️
I had never thought of distinguishing fury and rage in that way, but I love it. It's a really interesting way to conceptualize it! I have been through a few boom-and-bust cycles over the years of apathy and extreme emotional distress about the state of the world, and trying to care without self- destructing is something I struggle with. I like the idea of a steady burn, and focus.
In the meantime, I enjoy the ridiculously unseasonable warm weather here in Missouri, even as it sparks anxiety about the warming climate. I'm trying to appreciate the daffodils and plant seeds, even so.
Thank you as always for your thought provoking posts!
We're still quite a ways away from spring planting time in Michigan. It's lovely not to have to put a coat on to go outside, and also, it's disconcerting not to have to put a coat on to go outside in early March.
I'm not sure I've ever used the words rage or fury. I've certainly read them but I'm not sure I've ever given much thought as to their difference. I'll be paying attention now.
I wonder if some of us were brought up not to allow fury or rage. I know that, in my culture, the expression of either would have been seen as inappropriate at best.
I appreciate your distinction between rage and fury. Over the past few weeks I’ve been feeling stuck in my rage, and this makes me ponder what it would look like to transform that rage into fury.
I think I might be too flammable for fury. I burn out so quickly these days.
I'd love to hear more about this! What do you mean by "too flammable"?
Explaining might be difficult, but I'll try. I find that so often anger burns into grief and I become overcome with despondency and/or anxiety. It's not something I can sustain, especially with very dependent children. I sometimes wish I could be a force in the world but it all just feels too much. I think I still have some recovery to do after trying and failing to get certain people to give a damn about my disabled community during the pandemic and should probably get some therapy one of these days.
Thanks for the explanation!
I wonder if there's some kind of culturally ingrained expectation of what it means to be a "force in the world"—as if goodness had to be perfected. Maybe you can just be you, which is to say, angry and sad and anxious and loving and caring and caretaking all at the same time. For instance, you mention your disappointment with how people regarded (or didn't) the disabled community over the past few years; to me, that says something about your love and your care for that community. That love is a beautiful and living thing, even if, some days, it manifests as anger and/or grief. All these things can be true at once.
You're absolutely right, I think. Thanks.
There’s a WWII movie starring Brad Pitt titled “Fury.” It the name of their tank. There is plenty of rage and fury depicted in the violence of war. As an aside, we look forward to having you as our guest on April 11 — Still Processing event, Holland, MI, at the Brew Merchant.
That event is not on my calendar for April 11. I have May 2.
Shoot — my bad. You are right. May 2. Sorry.
I received a call and video message from my 21 yr old daughter last week. She was distraught and crying about the suffering and death in Gaza. She didn't know what to do with the pain of knowing what was happening and yet feeling helpless to respond in a meaningful way. I tried to comfort her and help place things in perspective, even though I am feeling the same way. At the time, I shared with her the story of the Muslim communities in Dearborn, MI, mobilizing their members to vote "uncommitted" in the primary as a protest vote and political warning shot. This week I will share your post. I have shared your writing with her in the past (because she is a literature and creative writing major) as an example of beautiful, vulnerable commentary on our human experience.
I so appreciate your angle on walking this Christian life - that it's best done with others - and I'm so thankful for your voice when things feel dark, letting us know we're not alone.
One of the strange things about living in these technologically mediated times is that we have so much more access to images that, just a few years ago, would not have been accessible. There are obviously both benefits and consequences to that kind of accessibility. A downside? I don't think our spirits and our bodies know how to handle the onslaught.
I am not sure I have felt rage or fury. I do know I have felt anger. My problem is knowing how or what to do with it. I do like your distinction between rage and fury.
The few crocus that I have left are blooming. The daffodils have not pushed up any stalks yet, but one of the day lilies had green shoots on our warm day in February and then were covered with snow the next day. But, that's Grand Rapids for you. Have not seen any bees, but lots of flies and other insects.
Thank you, Jeff, for your courageous and well-written words. They nourished me in more ways than one.
This is a very helpful distinction. For years now I've been telling everyone "I'm so angry." But it didn't feel strong enough, deep enough, for what I'm feeling. I realize now, I am furious. Yes. It is a deep burn about what is wrong wrong wrong. I have been trying, and not altogether successfully, to not just blast the ever living snot out of people over all this stuff, to remember that folks who aren't aligned with me are still people and not monsters/deplorables. To not rage. Phew. It's hard. Thank you for the image of the wildfire vs the controlled burn. (I live in CA, so that is a powerful metaphor for me.) Redoubling my efforts to not blast.
In our garden we are delighting in starflowers, daffodils, and now freesia brightening a grey and soggy lent. I'm glad you are seeing some too.
In terms of prayer, in the last two days there have been medical disasters for so many people I can't even describe it all. I am holding Heidi, Bob, Mike, Michael, Pete, LG, and Jack in prayer. I am so thankful for the presence and comfort of Jesus right now and am asking that these folks feel Him with them through the scary, sad things they are dealing with. Thank you for praying for us.
My husband and I are praying for your ordination. Congratulations again.
Thank you for the proof of Fozzie’s life. That’s a balm. I wish my fury wasn’t so frightening that I could be clear what to do. Or maybe I’m blinded by rage and afraid to do something hurtful. I appreciate your exploration. Spring is here. I will take it with heart. Also I pray for your ordination ❤️