About the Book
"Anger Is A Choice" by Tim Lahaye and Bob Phillips is a guidebook that explores the roots of anger and offers practical strategies for managing and overcoming it. The authors emphasize the importance of taking responsibility for one's emotions and reframing negative thought patterns to cultivate a more peaceful and fulfilling life. Through biblical principles and psychological insights, the book provides tools for readers to break free from the destructive cycle of anger and find emotional health and healing.
David Livingstone
"[I am] serving Christ when shooting a buffalo for my men or taking an observation, [even if some] will consider it not sufficiently or even at all missionary."
With four theatrical words, "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"âwords journalist Henry Morton Stanley rehearsed in advanceâDavid Livingstone became immortal. Stanley stayed with Livingstone for five months and then went off to England to write his bestseller, How I Found Livingstone. Livingstone, in the meantime, got lost againâin a swamp literally up to his neck. Within a year and a half, he died in a mud hut, kneeling beside his cot in prayer.
Berlin Congress spurs African independent churches
The whole civilized world wept. They gave him a 21-gun salute and a hero's funeral among the saints in Westminster Abbey. "Brought by faithful hands over land and sea," his tombstone reads, "David Livingstone: missionary, traveler, philanthropist. For 30 years his life was spent in an unwearied effort to evangelize the native races, to explore the undiscovered secrets, and to abolish the slave trade." He was Mother Teresa, Neil Armstrong, and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one.
Highway man
At age 25, after a childhood spent working 14 hours a day in a cotton mill, followed by learning in class and on his own, Livingstone was captivated by an appeal for medical missionaries to China. As he trained, however, the door to China was slammed shut by the Opium War. Within six months, he met Robert Moffat, a veteran missionary of southern Africa, who enchanted him with tales of his remote station, glowing in the morning sun with "the smoke of a thousand villages where no missionary had been before."
For ten years, Livingstone tried to be a conventional missionary in southern Africa. He opened a string of stations in "the regions beyond," where he settled down to station life, teaching school and superintending the garden. After four years of bachelor life, he married his "boss's" daughter, Mary Moffat.
From the beginning, Livingstone showed signs of restlessness. After his only convert decided to return to polygamy, Livingstone felt more called than ever to explore. During his first term in South Africa, Livingstone made some of the most prodigiousâand most dangerousâexplorations of the nineteenth century. His object was to open a "Missionary Road"â"God's Highway," he also called itâ1,500 miles north into the interior to bring "Christianity and civilization" to unreached peoples.
Explorer for Christ
On these early journeys, Livingstone's interpersonal quirks were already apparent. He had the singular inability to get along with other Westerners. He fought with missionaries, fellow explorers, assistants, and (later) his brother Charles. He held grudges for years. He had the temperament of a book-reading loner, emotionally inarticulate except when he exploded with Scottish rage. He held little patience for the attitudes of missionaries with "miserably contracted minds" who had absorbed "the colonial mentality" regarding the natives. When Livingstone spoke out against racial intolerance, white Afrikaners tried to drive him out, burning his station and stealing his animals.
He also had problems with the London Missionary Society, who felt that his explorations were distracting him from his missionary work. Throughout his life, however, Livingstone always thought of himself as primarily a missionary, "not a dumpy sort of person with a Bible under his arms, [but someone] serving Christ when shooting a buffalo for my men or taking an observation, [even if some] will consider it not sufficiently or even at all missionary."
Though alienated from the whites, the natives loved his common touch, his rough paternalism, and his curiosity. They also thought he might protect them or supply them with guns. More than most Europeans, Livingstone talked to them with respect, Scottish laird to African chief. Some explorers took as many as 150 porters when they traveled; Livingstone traveled with 30 or fewer.
On an epic, three-year trip from the Atlantic Ocean to the Indian Ocean (reputedly the first by a European) Livingstone was introduced to the 1,700-mile-long Zambezi. The river was also home to Victoria Falls, Livingstone's most awe-inspiring discovery. The scene was "so lovely," he later wrote, that it "must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight."
Despite its beauty, the Zambezi was a river of human misery. It linked the Portuguese colonies of Angola and Mozambique, the main suppliers of slaves for Brazil, who in turn sold to Cuba and the United States. Though Livingstone was partially driven by a desire to create a British colony, his primary ambition was to expose the slave trade and cut it off at the source. The strongest weapon in this task, he believed, was Christian commercial civilization. He hoped to replace the "inefficient" slave economy with a capitalist economy: buying and selling goods instead of people.
The ill-fated Zambezi expedition
After a brief heroic return to England, Livingstone returned to Africa, this time to navigate 1,000 miles up the Zambezi in a brass-and-mahogany steamboat to establish a mission near Victoria Falls. The boat was state-of-the-art technology but proved too frail for the expedition. It leaked horribly after repeatedly running aground on sandbars.
Livingstone pushed his men beyond human endurance. When they reached a 30-foot waterfall, he waved his hand, as if to wish it away, and said, "That's not supposed to be there." His wife, who had just given birth to her sixth child, died in 1862 beside the river, only one of several lives claimed on the voyage. Two years later, the British government, which had no interest in "forcing steamers up cataracts," recalled Livingstone and his mission party.
A year later, he was on his way back to Africa again, this time leading an expedition sponsored by the Royal Geographical Society and wealthy friends. "I would not consent to go simply as a geographer," he emphasized, but as biographer Tim Jeal wrote, "It would be hard to judge whether the search for the Nile's source or his desire to expose the slave trade was his dominant motive." The source of the Nile was the great geographical puzzle of the day. But more important to Livingstone was the possibility of proving that the Bible was true by tracing the African roots of Judaism and Christianity.
For two years he simply disappeared, without a letter or scrap of information. He reported later that he had been so ill he could not even lift a pen, but he was able to read the Bible straight through four times. Livingstone's disappearance fascinated the public as much as Amelia Earhart's a few generations later.
When American journalist Henry Stanley found Livingstone, the news exploded in England and America. Papers carried special editions devoted to the famous meeting. In August 1872, in precarious health, Livingstone shook Stanley's hand and set out on his final journey.
When Livingstone had arrived in Africa in 1841, it was as exotic as outer space, called the "Dark Continent" and the "White Man's Graveyard." although the Portuguese, Dutch, and English were pushing into the interior, African maps had blank unexplored areasâno roads, no countries, no landmarks. Livingstone helped redraw the maps, exploring what are now a dozen countries, including South Africa, Rwanda, Angola, and the Republic of the Congo (formerly Zaire). And he made the West aware of the continuing evil of African slavery, which led to its being eventually outlawed.
âobedience will make you miserableâ - the tired lie satan loves to tell
There are at least two ways to please the devil when it comes to the pursuit of holiness. The first way, of course, is to run from holiness altogether â to flee, with the prodigal, to the far country of this world, away from the Fatherâs home (Luke 15:11â13). The second way, perhaps even more dangerous than the first, is to pursue holiness (or what we imagine holiness to be), and yet not be happy about it. We may call this second way older-brother Christianity. Like the elder son in Jesusâs parable, such people follow the Fatherâs rules with a sigh (Luke 15:29). Their holiness is all pursed lips and sober glances. âSuch is the cost of righteousness,â they remind themselves. âWe must relinquish pleasure on the path to heaven, you know. Holiness, not happiness, is the true good.â âWhat virtue!â some may exclaim. âWhat uprightness! What self-denial!â What a sham.  Older brothers, for all their outward purity, are still in the grip of the serpentâs ancient lie. They have been deceived, along with our first parents, to live in a world of the devilâs own making: a world where our Father wears a frown, where heaven has no laughter, and where holiness is ultimately a sacrifice. As long as we live in such a world, we will miss the feast that our Father has prepared (Luke 15:22â28). If we want to rid ourselves of older-brother instincts, and pursue holiness in a way that shames the devil, we would do well to return to the garden and listen again to that first lie. Song of the Morning Stars When the serpent approached Adam and Eve in the garden, he knew that only a lie could put the forbidden fruit into their hands. Only a lie could somehow convince them that they were the slaves of a stingy God. Only a lie could do the trick because reality, as always, was not on Satanâs side. For when God first breathed the oceans into being, and lit the stars like candles, and filled mountain fields with wildflowers, no sigh could be heard in all heaven and earth. Rather, all creation joined to praise their glorious Maker. From heavenâs lofty balconies, the morning stars raised their song, the sons of God shouted for joy, and Wisdom delighted in Godâs handiwork (Job 38:7; Proverbs 8:30â31). From âLet there be lightâ onward, the heavens have declared his glory (Psalm 19:1). And how shall we hear their declaration? As an apathetic exhale? As a monotonous lecture? As a distracted recitation? No, as the very pitch of delight: âYou make the going out of the morning and the evening to shout for joyâ (Psalm 65:8). Adam and Eve, upon hearing the melody of creation, could not help but join the song. As they gazed across Godâs handiwork, they trusted the goodness of their Father. They admired the beauty of their Creator. They enjoyed the fellowship of their Friend. They obeyed the counsel of their King. They had no higher happiness. Life in the Serpentâs World No, the devil knew Adam and Eve would never eat the fruit as long as they worshiped the glorious God in his marvelous world. So what did he do? He invited the couple to imagine a different world and a different god. He shuttered their eyes to sunsets and tulips, blocked their ears to the chirping of the robins, and calloused their skin to spring breezes. In short, he shrunk creation to the size of an apple, and gave them eyes for Edenâs only âNo.â In the world of the serpent, the morning stars sing a dirge, the hosts of heaven murmur, and creation only groans beneath the dictatorship of the Almighty Ruler. In such a world, Adam and Eve had only two options. They could, like the prodigal, disobey their God and run from their Fatherâs garden. Or they could, like the older brother, sacrifice their pleasure on the noble altar of obedience. âEither rebel and be happy â or obey and be miserable.â This was the serpentâs offer (Genesis 3:4â5). Adam and Eve took the fruit and fled into the far country. Many today do the same. Many others, however, refuse the fruit â but only on the serpentâs terms. Like older brothers, we aim to keep our Fatherâs rules. We do so, however, not because his rules are satisfying, but only because theyâre right; not because holiness is glorious, but only because itâs obedient; not because fellowship with God is happifying (as Jonathan Edwards used to say), but just because he says so. Which brother we become matters little to the devil. As long as we live within his world â a world where the gifts are scarce and the God is stingy â he is happy whether we rebel or âobey.â As long as we cease to hear and sing creationâs song of praise, the serpent is pleased. Deeper Than Self-Denial If humanityâs first sin arose when we believed the serpentâs lie, then our repentance must go deeper than rule-keeping or self-denial. After all, some of this worldâs most marvelous rule-keepers are still tenants in the serpentâs world. No, our repentance requires more: we must break free from his spell altogether, and return to the real God in the real world. We must bend our ears upward once again to hear the heavens sing, âGlory!â We must feel again that heaven and earth, though fallen now, still pulse with Godâs pleasure (Psalm 104:31). We must wade again in this delicious stream called creation, remembering that God himself is the fountain (James 1:17). In other words, we must step past the ancient lie and believe once again that God created us to be happy in him. As soon as we âtaste and see that the Lord is goodâ (Psalm 34:8), and that he himself is our âexceeding joyâ (Psalm 43:4), everything about our pursuit of holiness will change. We will still deny ourselves, practice obedience, and kill our sin, to be sure. But we will not dare for a moment to think that we are exchanging happiness for holiness. We will trade away our sin because we have seen the treasure to be found (Matthew 13:44). We will forsake the lusts of our flesh because, as Jesus promised, âwhoever loses his life for my sake will find itâ (Matthew 16:25). And even when we must sacrifice something precious to follow Christ, we trust that we will âreceive a hundredfold now in this time . . . and in the age to come, eternal lifeâ (Mark 10:30). The Holy Spirit teaches us not only to obey God, but to enjoy him â indeed, to obey him by  enjoying him. He teaches us not only to withstand the devilâs temptations, but as Martin Luther put it, to laugh our adversary to scorn. He teaches us not only to wonder at the mercy of Christ, but to breathe a grand sigh of relief, amazed that joy has been so near at hand all this time. Discipline does not defeat the devil â happiness does. Join the Fatherâs Feast From where we stand now, of course, we can look to more than creation to see the happiness of God, and to nurture our happiness in him. We now have seen wonders that the morning stars could never have imagined. We have seen a God so happy that he could bear up under a world of sorrows without breaking (Isaiah 53:3). A God who recognized the joy set before him so luminously that he could endure the darkest shame (Hebrews 12:2). A God who runs to meet his prodigal children, too delighted to be dignified (Luke 15:20). A God who even now holds out his own joy to every older brother who will come in from the cold and join the celebration (Luke 15:31â32). Come now, older brother, put up your ear to the door. Can you hear the saintsâ laughter? Can you hear the angelsâ praise? Can you hear the Father singing over his children whoâve returned? Whatever we must forsake to walk inside this door, there is always more ahead of us than what we leave behind. So go ahead: Turn again to that serpent in the darkness, and laugh his bruised head to scorn. And then open up the door, and join your Fatherâs feast.
