My Alabaster Box
A Prayer of Fink Holloway Written August 28, 1993
I wonder if Mary had a hard time deciding to give her alabaster box of perfume to you, Jesus. Did it feel like a great sacrifice to pour out something so expensive? I have an alabaster box too. I really should give it to you, Jesus. But I do not want to part with it. You see, the content of my alabaster box is very precious to me. It has something I want to hold onto and cherish. It would require a great sacrifice to actually pour it out. My alabaster box is not filled with a sweet perfume. No, this box has a bitter fragrance. It holds my anger. This is not imitation anger; this is the real thing. My alabaster box contains my very own, real and genuine anger. It is not the cheap, small incident variety of anger. I suffered a great injustice before I found this anger, and believe me, I do not feel like throwing it away. I want to sulk and pout. I want to pity myself and be miserable. I want to remember how terribly unfair this felt. I want to remember the hurt, and even add a little fertilizer to this root of bitterness.
I know I should give my anger to you, Lord, but I am in no mood to make such a great sacrifice. I guess I have the mindset of Judas. It would be a terrible waste to pour out the contents of my alabaster box. Why, this could keep me seething for years. It feels right to hold onto my anger because my focus is totally turned toward me and the incident. How did this make you feel? It hurt! Do you think it was fair? Absolutely not! Do you think you have been misunderstood? I am sure of it, and it feels lousy. If I would just focus on you, Jesus, it would seem pretty silly for me to be hoarding my alabaster box. You suffered a much greater injustice. You were misunderstood. People lied about you on purpose, and yet you said, "Father, forgive."
I do not believe the people who hurt me actually intended to hurt me. But, still I do not feel like being Christ-like. I feel like being angry. I feel like telling everybody how badly I was wronged. But that would not please you, Lord, would it? If I spread all the bitterness that I have been cultivating, that would not honor your holy name at all.
I am sorry, Lord. Create in me a clean heart, oh God, and renew a right spirit within me. Okay, Lord. I will give you my anger. I will let you have it. I do not know why you would want this, but for some reason, I know that you want me to give you my anger. Jesus, what would you do with a box full of anger anyway? Drop it in the sea of forgetfulness? Nail it to your cross? Pour it out on Satan's head?
It does not matter what you do with it. What does matter is what you want to give me in its place: love, and joy, and peace.
But I don't feel love. I don't feel peace either. I guess it is because I have not really given up all my anger. I do want to honor you, Lord. I want to please you, but I am having a hard time. It is not easy to empty myself of this. Lord, I remember that when one man wanted healing he said, "Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief." I think I need to pray, "Lord, I release. Help thou mine unrelease." Help me to let go of my "right" to be angry. Help me to part with this "sacred treasure." Help me to put off my old man. Help me to let go. Help me to put away all my bitterness, and wrath, and malice and anger. Keep me from clamor and evil speaking. Help me to be kind, and tenderhearted, and forgiving. That is not my nature. It is not what I feel like doing. Lord, if it gets one it will only be because you have helped me. But I do want your help. I want you to cleanse me. I want you to transform me. I want you to take captive the angry thoughts. I want you to renew my mind. I need you to change me, Lord. I release my anger to you, Lord. Help thou mine unrelease.
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