Is it just because I'm red, or are you called to this too?

Every time I open my Bible, God has been sending me to places where He says, clearly and unequivocally, that He loves me. That He delights in me; that He is always with me, that I am not to fear. And sometimes I read past that point, and find that often right next to those passages are ones that sound like they should be from a completely different book. They are about God's anger, His rage, His justice and vengeance. People often call this the difference between the Old Testament God and the New Testament God and point to Jesus as enabling God to come close and love us. But the loving passages I've been reading are in Isaiah, Hosea and Psalms. And the angry passages I've been reading are also in Isaiah, Hosea and Psalms. So the God of Isaiah, Hosea and David and me is both loving and angry.

And then I look at my heart. And I begin to see that anger is not the opposite of love. Anger is a part of love. Where I am still angry is where I still love. Angry people care. Perhaps not about you, but about something. This is one of the places where emotions can be misleading. I don't feel wrong when I don't care; I don't feel anything when I don't care. I feel hateful when I am angry; I feel wrong. But this is backwards. When I am angry, I am not necessarily in the wrong; I feel wronged. When I am apathetic, I am taking a little step away from the character of God, who cares about everything. I'm not saying that God is holding me responsible for caring about everything, and that when I don't He marks me guilty. I think God has a limited amount of responsibilities for my limited life and my limited heart. After all, He remembers we are dust. I am saying that God says He cares about sparrows and hairs on my head and flowers in fields. He has an unlimited capacity to care about everything, He loves everything He has made. And the closer I can draw to having that kind of passion, the more I can care about, the closer I am to being like Him.

It's a terrifying calling, actually: to become like Christ and open your heart wide-- wide enough to embrace the entire broken world. To care about everything means to always have a broken heart. As I read these passages and listen to God, I find that He is inviting me to live a passionate life with a broken heart. A bright-red life of anger and mercy. A life complicated by care.

And again, He says, "I love you. Trust Me. Don't Fear."