“In your anger do not sin . . .” —Ephesians 4:26 (NIV) 

Only three minutes left, the treadmill’s workout timer said. A moment ago, my lungs had been burning, and my legs were tired. But then the memory of a local governance meeting I’d attended the night before started churning through my mind. I’d been horrified by what I’d heard. Officials charged with empowering the vulnerable within our community were instead using their authority to cause harm. The more I thought about it, the more my anger flashed, its energy flooding my tired muscles. My weariness was gone. I felt I could run another five miles, no problem.  

And so I did. I ran and ran, unsettled by the power of the feeling that gripped me. Its potential seemed volatile and dangerous. But also fierce and strong and real. Help me, Lord, I called out. Give me some wisdom. Was it wrong to feel this way? What was I supposed to do with all this angry energy? I didn’t know, so I just kept going until my body’s physical exhaustion tempered what I was feeling inside.  

By the time I got home from the gym, an idea had formed, an answer to prayer. I pulled out my laptop and started writing. “This Letter to the Editor is in response to . . .” I began. Emails followed to and from community members and leaders. There were things that needed to happen in response to that meeting, and I felt like my fingers couldn’t type fast enough.  

“Anger is energy with a message,” someone had said to me once, and suddenly I understood. With my destructive rage spent on the treadmill, what was left—focused in this careful, prayerful way—didn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, it felt like God-given fuel for work that had been waiting for me all along.