MAN’S BEST FRIEND: Training Emotions to Trust

 There are times when I simply cannot communicate the mess of feelings inside. Something triggers an avalanche and I react by suppressing everything. Since childhood, I’ve coped through metaphor, much like the Disney movie Inside Out. But instead of tiny people in my head, I have tiny dogs.

FEAR is a wide-eyed hound, cornered and trembling when others get too close. Barking whenever the wind blows, a door slams, or a strange voice speaks nearby. It’s always looking for loose boards or open doors because nowhere holds the safety of home. Hands approach, and fear lashes out before it can be hurt again.

ANGER is a powerful military dog, strong, protective, and raw. It reacts viciously against reminders of injustice and helplessness. Jaws wide and teeth bared, it bites before I realize these are loved ones who have no idea of my pain, who were never part of the original problem. I restrain anger, but it turns on me, drawing blood in these journaled pages and inflicting pain where no one else can see.

SADNESS/DEPRESSION is a heartbroken terrier, fiercely loyal to a fault. It wears its heart on its sleeve and breaks easily at betrayal. Anxiety grows with every failed relationship and a trembling howl fills the darkness. I cannot avoid the pathetic creature. Finally, I gather it into my arms and weep the lament of Job, “My spirit is broken, my days are extinguished, the grave is ready for me.” (Job 17:1)

JOY is a rambunctious Golden Retriever forever young. A tennis ball; a sunny day; snowflakes and spring flowers. Unpredictable blessings bring joy like the kisses of the Lord. I must run; I must dance. Energy rushes through my soul like an eagle soaring high above it all, living in the joy of this moment. But like a cold chain on a dog's collar, circumstances shut it down in a moment. And so I wait for joy to come again.

PEACE is a scruffy mutt, a nobody from nowhere, a mash-up of accidental pedigree. Peace has been set free from an abusive master and given a new identity. The old has gone, the new has come; there is no going back. I have nothing to fear. But then, I sin and peace flees. Who am I? What have I done? Will I be sent back to the streets of my old life? I am nothing. Surely, this is too good to be true.

 

TRAINING THE PACK

Illustrating my emotions as “little dogs” in my head has been a helpful way to address them rather than pretend they don’t exist. But if I organize emotions without connecting them to Jesus, they are nothing more than a wild pack on the loose.

This wild pack persistently barks and growls and attempts to pull me back into feral existence. They lunge after everything but what God has given. I’m not strong enough to hold them in check. They don’t listen to me when I correct them. Every time I let down my guard, they take full advantage and run over me.

Which is why I’m so thankful that Jesus is stronger yet. As a new creation, I am given infinite access to a personal heart trainer who redeems these wild emotions.

Proverbs 3:5-8, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your body and refreshment to your bones.”

Romans 8:26-27, In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

Emotions are the heart’s response to its perception of circumstances. This is how two different people in the same situation can have two different responses. This response directly impacts our physical bodies, whether for good or evil. When we suppress those emotions, we also suppress the turmoil of our soul. Any dog owner will tell you that ignoring a dog’s problems only makes them worse.

The same is true with our emotions. Hebrews 12:11 reminds us, All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. Like a dog that needs purposeful retraining to be a useful member of the family, so our emotions need purposeful retraining as new creations in Christ. This is the training of sanctification – and it’s a lifelong thing.

Come with me for a moment as I bring each of these emotions to the guiding truth of God’s word.

FEAR is comforted by the powerful refuge of the Lord (Psalm 91:4). It is enclosed with the powerful security found in the love of Jesus (Rom. 8:38-39). It is set free from legitimate fears (Heb. 2:14-15) and those of its own imagination (Phil. 4:6).

ANGER is confronted with the firm command, “Cease striving and know that I am God” (Psa. 46:10a). It is muzzled with the hope found in Psalm 42:5, Why are you in despair, O my soul? And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence. Its energy is redirected to Romans 12:19, 21 which says, Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.

SADNESS/DEPRESSION is joined by the Creator of the universe who enters our shame and weakness (Heb. 4:15-16). It is shepherded through dark valleys by the One who is always there (Psa. 23:4; Psa. 139:7-10). Its howling cries of “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” are echoed by the sinless Son of God who follows this cry of abandonment with the triumphant declaration, “It is finished!” (Psa. 22:1; John 19:30) His compassion led to my salvation. Even here, I am not abandoned.

JOY is firmly guided by a joyful Redeemer whose suffering resulted in our redemption from sin, shame, and guilt. He brings joy that can never be taken away (John 15:11). When I am overcome with suffering, “the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Neh. 8:10b). When I am overcome with my own wretchedness, I can say, “Make me hear joy and gladness, let the bones which You have broken rejoice…Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and sustain me with a willing spirit” (Psa. 51:8, 12). The source of true joy is not in me but from the Holy Spirit who produces joy as a fruit of my salvation (Gal. 5:22).

PEACE drifts away with insecurities. Not good enough. Not smart enough. Not strong enough. Not anyone worth anything. But the truth calls this wandering mutt home with “In Christ Jesus you who formerly were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace, … so that in Himself He might make the two into one new man, thus establishing peace, … and He came and preached peace to you who were far away, and peace to those who were near” (Eph. 2:13, 14a, 15b, 17). In spite of my personal insecurities, the Prince of Peace reigns (Col. 3:15). True peace guards our hearts and minds, an incomprehensible result of being firmly grounded in Christ Jesus (Phil. 4:7).

 

CONCLUSION

The last mental image I want to introduce you to isn’t an emotion at all, but a metaphorical dog, nonetheless. This dog is the designated pack leader. But when I see it, it’s often at the back. I’m ashamed to confess that this poor dog is often mistreated by the others. But it's persistent and puts the others to shame because it only has eyes for the Master and His commands. Whether it comes first or last, this one unifies the pack and eventually the others fall into place (Luke 22:42).

OBEDIENCE is a stocky English Labrador with strong loyalty to its master. It responds promptly to gentle correction. Trust shines from its eyes as it walks by faith and not by sight. When temptation arises, it takes the “way of escape” (1 Cor. 10:13). When it loses the way, it waits for the master’s return (Psa. 130:5-6). When faced with difficult people or wrong directions, it immediately hearkens to the master’s call (1 John 3:23).

Emotions are wild and strong, but when brought under the faithful training of the Lord, they become a beautiful expression of God’s grace.

 

 

 

 

 

All Scripture references from New American Standard Bible (NASB).

Photos are public domain

I CANNOT SPEAK: Hope in the Midst of Depression

 

 I cannot speak.

Words grapple with emotions, a cauldron of explosives waiting for a spark. Long powerful arms wrap around my chest, suffocating the screams of a distressed heart.

 

I cannot speak.

Muffled laughter mocks my efforts, the struggle to get out of my head met with failure. Time is relentless, an echoing endless pattern of day and night, summer and winter, months and years. A tunnel with no light at the end, a broken record playing the same notes over and over and over.

 

I cannot speak.

A box of vipers, Pandora’s treasure of bitterness unopened. They fight for release, and I hesitate. But the Spirit stirs within, reminding me, warning me of long-term repercussions if I give in. The choice hangs overhead: temporary relief, or future blessing. The quarreling serpents bite hard as I replace the lid, their escape denied again. Layers of pain without bruises, a cacophony of words with no voice.

 

I cannot speak.

Bondage from youth overpowered by freedom in Christ. Intoxicating relief. Liberating joy. How can I go back to that cage of shame when the wings of an eagle have lifted me above it all? And yet, the darkness has returned. My wings clipped. And again, I cannot speak.

 

I cannot speak.

Yet the daily expectations persist. Motivated to serve those I love; I must not give up. Here is purpose, so I persevere. But with every step, these broken wings hold me back like lead. The labor of surviving. Needle-sharp stings from these vipers as I grip their lid in place. If Jesus has already borne this heavy load – why must I carry it again? Yet here I am.

 

I cannot speak.

Like Job, my reality is a nightmare I can’t fully understand. Like David, my pillow is wet with tears, and I feel nothing anymore. I cry out to heaven night after night, but the silence is deafening. Demons scream at me relentlessly to curse God and die.

 

I cannot speak. But God is faithful.

Always slow, but never late. His light finally breaks through as the waves recede in the presence of the Master. A faint yet familiar melody resonates that I am His and He is mine. Doubt gives way to the sweetness that His grace is sufficient for me.

 

I cannot speak. But God answers.

My prayers still unanswered, but now blessed with comfort. I am not abandoned; I am not forsaken. Like a child too young to articulate, my screaming is silenced by the tender care of my heavenly Father who knows what I need before I ask. Words still refuse to come, but His love quiets my heart.

 

I cannot speak. But God speaks one word on my behalf.

A word more powerful than pain; a word that subdues the chaos of words and emotions within. A word that encompasses the darkness yet remains bright, immutable. It rises on wings unblemished, healing all it touches. This Word enters my silence. This Word brings order just as He did in the beginning. This Word is Jesus.

 

I cannot speak. Yet I am speechless.

My silence is not in vain. This darkness is not a wasted. Who is like the Lord who lifts my eyes to the mountains? Who is like the Lord who draws near to the brokenhearted? Who is like Him who saves the crushed in spirit? Though I cannot speak, my head is lifted toward the Lord. It is enough that He understands the chaotic darkness within; I do not bear it alone.

 

I am speechless.

But I can speak of my Healer, my Light and salvation, my strong tower and Deliverer. His words direct my feet on new paths. My broken wings are strengthened through His abundant compassion.

 

I can speak again.

Of Jesus. And it is more than enough.

 

 

 

 

Psalm 42:11

Why are you in despair, O my soul?

And why have you become disturbed within me?

Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him,

The help of my countenance and my God.