Anger is The Devil’s Tool

Today’s reading:James 1:19-24

Anger almost killed me one day a few years ago. Literally.

I was doing my part for the environment — and my health — and riding my bike to work. I had made the 8-mile commute a habit for nearly six months, but had complained to several city council members and other officials that it was more dangerous than it had to be. Our city had not made bikers’ needs a priority.  At least a third of my route to work was on a very busy street filled with impatient drivers who did not appreciate my taking an entire traffic lane for my bike. They did not understand that lose gravel on the side of the road makes riding near the edge of a street very dangerous. Nor did they understand that city ordinance — not to mention safety concerns related to pedestrians and driveways — prohibits riding bikes on sidewalks along thoroughfares.

I had begged officials to post signs, to re-work traffic lane markings, to enforce laws intended to protect cyclist, to begin a “be-nice-to-cyclists” public relations campaign, and to adopt some of the great measures I’d seen in action in other cities.

But I rarely received a phone call back. And I certainly saw no indication that I was being heard. I knew other cyclists who were similarly frustrated.

So, I resorted to anger.

Each time a driver impatiently blew his horn at me or yelled at me to “get on the side walk f—er!” I yelled back. And what I yelled was never  nice. It was usually accompanied by an obscene gesture or two.

One day, a bull-headed guy in a large truck got caught behind me for a minute or so as I trudged down the center of my lane. After a few of his arrogant honks, I shot him “the finger.”

That did not sit well with him. He quickly blazed past me leaving only about 3 inches between his tire and my pedal. The move disoriented me, and I lost control of my bike and ended up crashing into the grass on the side of the road.

The man saw my wreck in his rearview mirror and circled around — to heckle me some more as I was getting up.

“That’s why you ‘re supposed to ride on the f—ing side walk, a—hole!” he screamed.

I yelled back.

“Hey, s–th–d, do you realize it’s against the law for me to ride on the sidewalk! Just go on your f—ing way and remember that you’re a huge f—ing d—. Your family must be amazingly proud of you. Tell them that you almost killed a biker today because your so f—ing proud to be a j—ss! I’m sure they’ll hug you!”

I then walked up to his truck and made a move as if I wanted to hit him, but he was out of his truck first and in my face.

We ended up in a shoving match that ended quickly when he pushed me into traffic and a speeding car missed me by just inches.

As he continued screaming at me, I suddenly remembered God.

The very words from today’s reading came roaring into my head:

“You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger;  for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” (Verses 19-20)

All anger disappeared from my spirit. I felt calm.

“You have a great day, sir! I pray that God will bless you richly!” I said as I returned to my bike on the grass and began silently inspecting it for damage.

Fortunately, both my body and bike had been unscathed by the attack. So I just ignored the man as he continued to yell, and I simply rode off — this time on the sidewalk — until his truck was out of view.

I remember this incident often. Almost every time I am tempted to respond in anger to something, in fact — especially to another person’s anger.

Thanks be to God for making sure those two vehicles did not get four inches closer to me that day. May I always remember the peaceful lessons of that frightening experience.