Valerie Rae Hanneman
Mark 5:15 “They came up to Jesus and saw the madman sitting there wearing decent clothes and making sense, no longer a walking madhouse of a man.” (Msg)
I don’t know when I tied on the boxing gloves and started fighting the world. It seems like forever. I remember fighting the things that my stepfather put in my head. Every chance he got, he told me that he was the first in his family to marry a divorced woman with children but he loved my mother so he married her anyway. The message was clear – he never wanted me. He told me how successful his daughters were going to be - they were going to change the world. He was equally positive that I wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. Again, it was clear – I wasn’t worthy. For a long time, I believed him. Then I decided to prove him wrong and I started fighting. With a flurry of left jabs and right hooks I kept advancing in my accounting career. Then the knock-out uppercut – I was promoted to the CFO of a major law firm with nothing more than a high school diploma in my hand. I WON! Only there was no feeling of victory – just emptiness inside. I had proven to him he was wrong but I hadn’t proven it to me. I blamed the world for my feelings of inadequacy and I kept fighting it. I told myself I was fighting so hard to show the world that I was worthy, that I should be wanted. I refused to listen to what my heart knew. It knew that I fought so hard to keep the world from knowing the truth about me – that I really was unworthy and unwanted. To the outside world, I was a cold, heartless woman who was not above using low-blows against any who would come against me. Inside I was a scream of rage against the world. I thought I needed my rage to survive.
If I were to draw a picture of myself 11 years ago I would draw a woman in boxing gloves and in a boxer’s stance. My face would be bloody from pounding it against the wall of the world’s indifference; my body would be bruised from the hits I had taken from the world. My eyes would reflect the rage that possessed me like a demon, my face would be set, my hands lifted high, determined to unleash that rage against any who came against me.
There was a man in Jesus’ time who would understand me – he fought his world as well. The Message calls him a madman possessed by demons. He ran naked through the cemetery screaming and cutting himself with sharp rocks. His body bore the bruises from when he broke the chains that people tried to restrain him with. The Word doesn’t say how long he had fought his world but he could not stop. He needed something more than himself to set him free from his demons. The something more that this man needed was Jesus. Jesus came across the sea that day specifically to reach this man. When His boat touched the shore this madman was compelled by his demons to run to Jesus and fall at His feet in worship. Even the demons know Who Jesus is and worship Him! Jesus cast the demons from this man and freed him. When the townspeople came out to see what was going on, they found this former madman calm, rational and sitting at the feet of Jesus. He no longer fought his world – he was at peace.
Do I think that the rage I had was truly a demon? I don’t know if it was or not. But I know that it possessed me, it controlled me and it made me do things that I am not proud of. Like this madman I could not free myself from the rage inside me caused by knowing that I was unworthy and unwanted. I needed something more – I needed Jesus. And He came for me. He told me that it didn’t matter how the world sees me, it didn’t even matter how my stepfather sees me. All that matters is how He sees me. Then He said, “Let Me show you how I see you.” And Jesus showed me a woman who is so worthy that He gave His life for me. He showed me a woman that He wants so much that He has a place for me with Him for all eternity. He showed me a woman so loved by Him that my finite mind cannot begin to comprehend His infinite love. He cast the rage from me, and filled me with His peace.
This past week there was an accident on 168 that stopped traffic. I tried to get over to the Shaw exit so I could take the surface streets to 41 but I missed the exit. I prayed quickly over the unseen traffic accident somewhere in front of us, turned K-Love a little louder and accepted that I would be in this mostly stopped traffic until I got to the Ashlan exit. I noticed the car in front of me when the driver tried to cut off the pick-up merging in from Shaw. When the pick-up did not allow her to cut them off the woman went crazy. She pounded the steering wheel. As I watched she made fists of her hands and punched the top of her car. A moment later she was hitting the passenger’s seat! From somewhere she grabbed up a brush and started brushing her hair so violently that if her hair had gotten tangled in it she would have pulled out her hair, her scalp, her skull and probably some brain as well! She pounded the inside of her car for a couple more minutes, then pulled onto the shoulder of the freeway – and with just barely enough room to squeeze past the retaining wall and the stopped vehicles – she shot off. I was absolutely blown away by her actions but I was glad to see her go, she made me so nervous. Eleven years ago, I would have been her. So possessed by rage at the world that something as unavoidable as stalled traffic would set me off.
These days, I am calm, rational, and sitting at the feet of Jesus. I have hung up my boxing gloves. I don’t need to fight anymore. I know who I am and whose I am.
LORD Jesus, because of You, I know that I am worthy. Because of You, I know that I am wanted. Because of You, I know that I am greatly loved. How can I ever thank You enough? I worship at Your feet – not because a demon compels me too but because my love for You compels me.
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