The Peculiar Flow

I’ve started seeing decisions differently.

Especially decisions made when something hurts.

Imagine a room.

Something has just happened to you. Maybe someone betrayed you. Maybe you were disappointed. Maybe you received news you weren’t prepared for. Maybe an old wound got touched again.

And suddenly, hands start appearing.

Anger extends his hand.

Come with me.

Revenge reaches for you.

I know exactly what we should do.

Pride offers hers.

We’re never letting anybody make us feel like this again.

Fear is standing nearby.

Let me keep you safe.

Grief reaches.

Sadness reaches.

Isolation reaches.

Control reaches.

And depending on what happened, some of those hands feel incredibly reasonable.

That’s what makes them tempting.

But there is another hand in the room.

One that was there before all the others arrived.

The hand of our Helper. The Holy Spirit.

And lately I’ve been asking myself a different question when I’m emotional:

Whose hand am I holding?

Because eventually, the hand you keep choosing starts determining where you go.

Feelings Can Enter the Room Without Becoming Your Partner

I don’t believe anger showing up means you’re doing something wrong.

Sometimes anger is appropriate.

Grief is appropriate.

Sadness is appropriate.

Disappointment is appropriate.

Jesus experienced emotion.

The problem isn’t necessarily that a hand entered the room.

The question is whether I allow that hand to lead me.

Anger can tell me that something hurt.

But I don’t have to marry anger.

Grief can tell me that I deeply loved something I lost.

But I don’t have to marry grief.

Fear can alert me to danger.

But I don’t have to build my future with fear.

That distinction has changed a lot for me.

Because emotions are excellent messengers.

Some of them make terrible spouses.

Sometimes I Let Go of the Right Hand

There have been moments when something hurt me so deeply that I grabbed the first hand that made sense.

Hurt.

For a while, hurt felt justified.

It understood me.

It didn’t ask me to forgive too quickly.

It didn’t ask me to look beyond what happened.

It just let me sit there and say:

That hurt.

And honestly?

Sometimes you need to acknowledge that.

But after a while, I noticed something.

Hurt had introduced me to anger.

And anger was very social.

Anger knew revenge.

Anger knew pride.

Anger knew suspicion.

Anger knew how to replay conversations at 2:00 in the morning.

Anger knew how to construct imaginary arguments I was absolutely winning.

😂

And every now and then I would realize:

Wait. How did I get all the way over here?

I knew whose hand I had let go of.

So I would reach back for my Helper.

Then another wave would come.

My grip would slip.

I’d grab anger again.

Then catch myself.

Release.

Reach back.

Again.

Again.

Again.

And that taught me something important about walking with God.

Sometimes choosing the Holy Spirit isn’t one dramatic decision.

Sometimes it looks like realizing, twenty times in one day,

“Oops. Wrong hand.”

And reaching back.

Some Hands Introduce You to Other Hands

This is why I think we have to pay attention to what we partner with.

Because one reaction rarely travels alone.

Anger might introduce you to revenge.

Fear might introduce you to control.

Pride might introduce you to isolation.

Insecurity might introduce you to comparison.

Offense might introduce you to bitterness.

Grief might introduce you to hopelessness.

And before long, you aren’t only processing what happened anymore.

You’ve entered an entire relationship with the response to what happened.

That is what I mean when I say:

No, I don’t want your hand in marriage.

You may enter the room.

I may even need to acknowledge you.

But you cannot have permanent access to my decisions.

Grief Taught Me This Differently

A few days ago, I passed the birthday of my cousin who passed away.

She was my best friend.

For years, dates connected to her could feel like an obligation to grieve.

Almost like loving her properly meant I had to take grief’s hand for the entire day.

If I smiled too much, was I forgetting her?

If I enjoyed the day, was I dishonoring what I lost?

If I wasn’t devastated, did that somehow mean I loved her less?

So grief would reach out.

And I would take its hand.

But this year felt different.

When I first recognized the date, sadness reached for me.

And I took her hand for a minute.

But I discovered something:

Sadness didn’t grip me the way grief used to.

I could feel sad and still let go.

And when I did, another hand was still there.

My Helper.

And for the first time, I could look at my cousin’s life and not only see what I lost.

I could see her.

I smiled at the memories.

I thought about who she became.

What she accomplished.

And I felt so proud of her.

So, so proud.

And I realized I couldn’t see all of that while grief was covering my eyes.

Grief wasn’t proof that I loved her.

Love was.

And love was still there after I released grief’s hand.

That realization freed me.

The Holy Spirit Doesn’t Always Remove the Other Hands

This may be the biggest thing I’ve learned.

Sometimes I think we expect God to enter the room and make every other option disappear.

No temptation.

No anger.

No impulse.

No sadness.

No desire to retaliate.

Just instant holiness.

😂

That has not been my experience.

Sometimes all the hands are still there.

And the Holy Spirit’s hand is simply among them.

Steady.

Available.

Not forcing me.

Not panicking because anger showed up.

Not abandoning me because I briefly grabbed the wrong hand.

Just there.

And I have to choose.

That’s why Scripture talks so much about walking by the Spirit.

Walking requires direction.

And direction requires choosing who you’re following.

Before You Make the Decision, Look at Your Hand

When emotions are high, we tend to focus on the decision in front of us.

Should I text them?

Should I leave?

Should I respond?

Should I confront them?

Should I post it?

Should I cut them off?

Should I say what I really want to say?

But maybe there’s a question that comes before all of those:

Who is holding my hand while I make this decision?

Because the same situation looks completely different depending on who is guiding you.

Anger will give you one answer.

Fear will give you another.

Ego will give you another.

Grief will give you another.

Revenge definitely has suggestions. 😂

And then there is the Helper.

The Spirit of truth.

The One Scripture says teaches us, reminds us, guides us and produces love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

That doesn’t mean the Spirit will always lead you toward the easiest response.

Sometimes He may lead you into a boundary.

Sometimes silence.

Sometimes a conversation.

Sometimes forgiveness.

Sometimes distance.

Sometimes accountability.

Sometimes an apology.

But His hand should determine the direction.

I Can Feel You Without Marrying You

Maybe that’s the maturity I’m learning.

I can acknowledge anger without giving anger my future.

I can sit with sadness without building a house there.

I can experience grief without believing grief is the only evidence that I loved deeply.

I can recognize fear without allowing fear to make decisions for me.

I can admit that revenge crossed my mind without giving revenge my hand.

I can say:

I see you.

I understand why you showed up.

But no.

I don’t want your hand in marriage.

Because there is already a hand I want to learn how to hold onto.

And even when my grip slips—

even when I grab the wrong hand—

even when emotion pulls me somewhere I know I don’t belong—

my Helper is still there.

So I release.

And reach back.

Because maybe spiritual maturity isn’t never having the wrong hands reach for you.

Maybe it’s becoming quicker at recognizing:

That hand cannot take me where I’m trying to go.

And choosing again.