"Why Am I Like This? Anger, Grace, and the God Who Comforts"

I had a pretty bad temper growing up, lost my mind over stupid little things all the time. I was bad, but I wasn’t even close to the worst in our house, so I got away with it. I came to faith at 14 and God helped me to get rid of most of my anger.

Started dating Kim at 16… she never saw my temper… until we got married at 20.

Our first little apartment, we’re arguing about something stupid, I’m following her down the hallway to our bedroom… yelling at her. Just absurd. I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. Red, angry, demonic. I looked ridiculous. I was ridiculous. It stopped me in my tracks.

I thought… I would never let anyone talk to my wife, my best friend, like this. I’d knock them down. I’d protect her. That’s my job. And then I thought… who’s going to protect her from me? 

It has to be me. There’s no one else here. 

So, I haven’t even come close to losing my temper with her since that day. You can ask her, it hasn’t happened.

I haven’t lost my temper… with her. 

There was the time a crockpot of chili spilled in the back of our brand new car.
The time a Big Gulp, one of those half gallon paper cups of soda, didn’t quite fit in the drink holder and went everywhere. Pretty much anytime spills and cars were involved…
There were moments over the years when I let the rage flow… but never toward her. I thought I had cracked the code. I was cured. I thought that childish behavior of raging at people was completely behind me.

Until we had a child. Oh boy. 

I found myself being completely irrational and angry at the dumbest things all the time.
Can anyone relate to this? 

I had never felt the kind of love I felt for my kids as soon as they were born. I know, everyone says that… I had heard people say it. I was still surprised when it happened to me. But even with all that love, I still had such a hard time controlling my temper when they frustrated me… all those little disrespects and stubborn disobediences… ugh. God’s like, “Yeah, I really feel sorry for you—you only have two kids that don’t do what you say.”

Kids are so cute and adorable, when they’re not throwing tantrums, or making a mess, or waking you up at 3am, or finding new ways to press the crazy button until it works.

I think it’s just… we assume certain things in life are supposed to come naturally.
And it does to a point but we’re all born into this world pretty bent and twisted in on ourselves. I think this is the most confusing when it comes to our kids.

They’re born and all this incredible love just happens, why not an equally incredible ability to have patience and lack of murderous rage? Why can’t that also just happen? And maybe it does for some people, but it didn’t for me. I had a lot of work ahead of me in the area of self-control.

It should be a law that before any of us are released into society to have kids or get married or make friends, someone should set us down and tell us the truth, “Hey, just so you know… loving people will be incredibly hard, and you’re going to be pretty bad at it—also everyone you know is going to be pretty bad at it, too. They’ll have a hard time loving you.” Nobody tells us that. Instead, we’re just kind of left to assume that if we’re a good person—if we’re a good parent, a good spouse, a good friend—we should just instinctively know how to be good to people. 

But we don’t, and we’re all caught off guard. We find ourselves in a moment—maybe it’s with our kids, maybe our spouse, maybe a coworker—and things get tense, emotions go up, and suddenly we lose our cool. We get upset, we act like a fool, we’re not wise, we’re not choosing our words with care… we’re just reacting. Poorly. And then after it’s over, when we’re replaying what happened… we don’t just think, “Well, that didn’t go very well.” We think, “What’s wrong with me? Why am I like this?” 

We’re embarrassed. We feel shame.

Unless we’re a fool, then we just blame the other person and get on with our day.

But I’m not talking to fools… doesn’t do any good to talk to fools, they don’t listen. I’m talking to those of us who want to do better, want to be wise. Want to have peace in our life… want to listen to God’s wisdom—make our world better for us and for everyone around us.

So, what does God have to say to those of us who are listening?

He doesn’t start by telling us, “Be better at loving people.” He starts somewhere completely different. He starts with: “Look at how I love you.”

Our text today is from Isaiah 66, it's one of the most tender pictures of God in the Bible.

Before we jump into it, we need to understand how important the Book of Isaiah is. It’s often called “the Fifth Gospel” because even though it was written 700 years before Jesus was born, it talks about Him constantly. We find promises about His birth, His ministry, His suffering, His death, His kingdom, and His ultimate plans for restoration all through the book. Some people have even called Isaiah “the Bible in miniature” not only because it has 66 chapters like the Bible has 66 books, but also because it moves from judgment and rebellion to comfort, redemption, and the hope of a new creation—just like the whole story of Scripture itself.

And today we’re looking at the final chapter. The grand finale. The book closes with two realities held side by side: the tender comfort of God, and His righteous judgment. First, God describes Himself as a mother holding her child close, and in the next moment, He talks about arriving in fire and judgment to destroy evil. So this passage gives us one of the most complete pictures in all of Scripture of who God is—holy and tender, just and compassionate, truthful and comforting all at the same time. Isaiah 66:12–24 (NLT) …

Isaiah 66:12 says this:

“This is what the LORD says: ‘I will give Jerusalem a river of peace and prosperity. The wealth of the nations will flow to her. Her children will be nursed at her breasts, carried in her arms, and held on her lap. I will comfort you there in Jerusalem as a mother comforts her child.’”

God describes Himself as a mother holding her beloved child. Who are the beloved children of God? We are. Because of Jesus God has adopted us and is carrying us, holding us close. 

And when it says “Jerusalem” we read that as the city of God where His children gather for worship—so, the church. That image of “peace like a river” is the peace that flows from Him to us. A steady, ongoing, life-giving peace. Which isn’t a promise of the absence of trouble or conflict—He’s promising to be present, to comfort us, in the midst of all the chaos.

This image of God as our mother is still God the Father, though. Scripture consistently names God as Father. But He wants us to know His care for us includes and surpasses even the most tender human experience of motherly nurturing. He’s not our heavenly mother, no sparkle creeds here, but He’s not less than a mother either—He’s the source of every good thing motherhood reflects.

He promises to comfort His people, His children. Promises peace to everyone who belongs to Him, everyone who trusts in Him, everyone who cries out to Him.

Isaiah 66:14 says this:

“When you see these things, (God keeping His promises through Jesus) your heart will rejoice. You will flourish like the grass! (New life. Green.) Everyone will see the LORD’s hand of blessing on his servants—and his anger against his enemies.”

God’s people will flourish, not because we’re so amazing in our plans and efforts, but because His hand is on us. Flourish with life, renewal, restoration, joy. Everyone will see what God has done for us.

But they’ll also see… His anger.
Blessing and anger appear together.

We can’t separate God’s love from His justice. The same God who brings blessing to His children is also opposed to His enemies who want to ruin everything. But His anger isn’t like ours. He doesn’t just get mad and lose His temper. God’s anger is a response to evil and rebellion—Everything that tries to destroy the world He created and is restoring.

God is good, and the whole point of His redemptive work is to rid His creation of evil.

God’s love can’t be understood apart from His holiness. So, here’s the other side of that tender image of God, the One they don’t usually put on the Hallmark cards, His promise to make things right… 

Isaiah 66:15-16 says this:

“See, the LORD is coming with fire, and his swift chariots roar like a whirlwind. He will bring punishment with the fury of his anger and the flaming fire of his hot rebuke. The LORD will punish the world by fire and by his sword. He will judge the earth, and many will be killed by him.”

 Okay. Happy Mother’s Day.

We’re tempted to skip this part—but we can’t. Not if we want to understand what God is actually telling us—who He actually is.

The same chapter that gives us one of the most tender images of God also gives us one of the most intense images of His judgment. Fire, sword, rebuke—it’s not mild correction. This is final, decisive judgment. 

It’s actually a different kind of comfort.

Because it points to the end of time when God removes evil completely. Which is a necessary action of a holy God who’s not going to allow sin and injustice to go on forever.

If you’ve ever seen something evil in the world and thought, “I’d put a stop to that if I could.” War, abuse, hatred… all the terrible things… God agrees with you. He’s going to put an end to all these things once and for all.

And people say, “Well, why doesn’t He do it now?” 

2nd Peter 3:9 addresses this head on, “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.”

He hasn’t destroyed all the evil in the world because He still has more kids He wants to save first. Aren’t you glad Jesus didn’t come back before He saved you? Only fools think they haven’t contributed to what’s wrong with the world. We should all be very thankful that Jesus is taking His time. His judgment is coming, evil will end.

In the meantime though… 

We need to get something straight. This is really important. God’s discipline and His judgment are not the same thing.

• Discipline is for His people—meant to train, shape, redirect.

• Judgment is for the wicked who reject Him.

There are three kinds of people in the world: the wise, the foolish, and the wicked. The wise hear what God says, trust Him, and do what He says. That’s what wisdom is, doing what God says, not just knowing things—doing things. On the other hand are the foolish… they hear what God says but they ignore it, don’t listen, just wait until the sermon is over so they can get back to being foolish. The only way to get a fool’s attention is through consequences… discipline. Usually painful discipline. And then there’s the wicked… they listen but then try to use it against you. The only thing that can be done with a wicked person is to get them away from you or anyone they can hurt… which is pretty much what God’s talking about with all the fire, swords, and judgment talk.

What connects all these things is God’s righteousness—His goodness. He doesn’t ignore sin. He deals with it—either through teaching, correction or through judgment.

This is why love and accountability can’t be separated. God’s love does not water down His standards—it enforces them. Not to be harsh, but to uphold what is good.

This is why the Gospel is necessary. Without Jesus, this passage leaves us in a terrifying place.

Because if God is holy and just… and if He really does oppose evil… then what are we supposed to do with the evil inside of us?

That’s the uncomfortable part of this sermon. Most of us hear about judgment and think about all the terrible people out there. The monsters. The wicked people ruining the world.

But then I remember myself screaming at my wife in that apartment hallway—losing my temper when my kids tested my patience.

And all of a sudden judgment feels a lot more personal.

Not because I’m a hopeless monster. Not because Kim and the kids were unsafe around me. But I saw something ugly in myself that I didn’t want to be there.

I saw how quickly love can turn into selfishness. How quickly frustration can turn into cruelty. How quickly “I love you with all my heart” can turn into “I need you to stop frustrating me.”

That’s what sin does. It curves us in on ourselves.

That’s why parenting in particular shocks so many people. We’re overwhelmed by how much love we feel for our kids… then we’re confused by how angry and irrational we can get with them.

We love them more than our own life… and five minutes later we're losing our mind because they spilled yogurt into the air conditioning vent of the car.

Ask me how I know.

And then, most of us only know two ways to react…

Option one: justify ourselves for getting mad because, I mean...
“I told them to stop playing with their food.”
“Anyone would get upset about this.”
“They had it coming.”

Or option two: shame.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Why am I like this?”
“I’m such a terrible parent.”

Neither of those options are helpful.
Neither restore the relationship.

But the Gospel gives us a third option. Repentance without despair.

When God deals with you, because of Jesus, He’s not treating you as an enemy wanting to destroy you. He’s dealing with you as His child, wanting to show you mercy.

He sees more about your situation than you do. You don’t need to justify yourself.

Imagine you walk into the kitchen and your two year old somehow got a hold of a glass of milk, dropped it on the tile, spilled it everywhere, broke the glass… they cut themselves, they’re bleeding, they’re crying… I mean, it’s a real mess.

How do you react? Are you mad? Maybe. I mean, there’s milk and blood and broken glass everywhere. But there’s also a crying child who needs help. I think this is how God sees us in all the messes we make…

At least when we turn to Him and ask for help. He’s going to pick us up, tend to our wounds, hold us and comfort us. 

We don’t need to explain why we dropped the glass. Or crawled around in the broken pieces. We don’t need to justify ourselves—we can’t justify ourselves. Leave the justification to Jesus.

The cross doesn’t mean the judgment of God disappears—it fell with all its weight fully and completely on Jesus.

The fire of Isaiah 66 wasn’t ignored. It was absorbed by Him.

Jesus took the judgment so you could receive the comfort.

Now when God corrects you, it isn’t condemnation. It’s direction. 

Even when God holds up a mirror and exposes your anger, your impatience, your selfishness… He’s not doing it to shame you. He’s showing you what’s wrong because He loves you too much to leave you in your broken messes. He’s showing you how to make less of a mess next time.

That’s discipline. 

It’s not rejection.
It’s not punishment.

This is where that image of God comforting us like a mother becomes so important.

Because children borrow calm from their parents. It’s how they learn.

When a little kid falls apart emotionally, they don’t automatically know how to regulate themselves. They have to borrow some self-control from the one they look up to… someone bigger, calmer, safer.

That’s why when parents react emotionally with anger and frustration, it makes things worse. The kid borrows chaos instead.

In those moments, we need to turn to our Heavenly Father, remember His mothering side.
Because parents need someone to borrow calm from too.

So do spouses..
And friends, and pastors…

Because if we try to rely on our own emotional strength, we’re going to run out.

That’s what happened to me when the kids were little. I thought I had beaten my anger because I stopped exploding at Kim. But I was still trying to control myself through willpower alone—and Kim made that pretty easy. But with the kids and a little sleep deprivation, a little exhaustion, a little stress, some everyday frustration—the rage started leaking out again.

Because white-knuckling self-control isn’t the same thing as peace.

Eventually I learned that anger is just an early warning system. Something’s wrong and I better figure out what it is before I make a fool of myself. Again. When I’m getting mad, it’s not time to turn inward and follow my heart, it’s time to turn to the One who can give me some calm, some peace, some direction.

If I start to lose control, I need to lean on the One who promises me comfort.
He gives His peace and calm so I can share it with whoever is frustrating me.

If we do this, over time, with practice, we get better at it. 

You start noticing you don’t escalate as quickly.
You listen a little longer before speaking.
You recover a little faster.
Apologize quicker.
Stop needing to win every argument.
Stop needing to fight every battle.
You stop treating the people you’re supposed to love like enemies.

That’s the goal. That’s what love is supposed to look like. In parenting, in marriage, in friendship.

It’s about becoming the kind of people who reflect the steady, truthful, comforting, holy love of God into the lives of all the people around us.

Which starts by receiving His love first.
So we can borrow His calm, His peace, His grace…
Ready for the next time a glass of milk shatters, a handful of yogurt goes into the A/C vent, or we see the face of a demon in front of us and realize it’s a mirror. AMEN

Prayer

Heavenly Father,  thank You for loving us with patience, mercy, and peace. Forgive us for the ways we fail to love others well, and teach us to turn to You instead of our anger, pride, or frustration. Through Jesus, remind us that we are forgiven, comforted, and held securely as Your children. And today, Lord, we especially thank You for the mothers in our lives. Strengthen and encourage them, give them wisdom, peace, and joy, and remind them how deeply loved they are by You. Bless the women who nurture, care for, guide, and love others so faithfully.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.