Many evenings during summer, after brother and sister were tucked into bed, my oldest daughter and I would talk. We’ve worked our way, one page at a time, though the book, Preparing Your Daughter for Every Woman’s Battle.
I’ve mentioned before that this book is not for the faint-of-heart, as would be expected with a book about sexual purity. (Yes, 10 years old is young, but I wanted to tell her before the world did. Now anything she might hear can be compared to the standard found in the Bible.)
But the chapter on how we talk really got to me:
I smiled as she squeezed toothpaste onto a paper plate at my instruction.
“Now,” I said dramatically and paused. “Put all the toothpaste back into the tube.”
She looked at me, confident, at first. But soon, she was covered in minty goo and knew the task was impossible.
After she washed her hands and snuggled back into my bed, I explained how our words, like the sticky toothpaste, once spoken are impossible to get back. And we just made a big mess trying. We talked about respect and thinking before we speak. We talked about the power of the tongue, how it can bring life or death.
She scooted off to bed and I remembered how often my mouth got me in trouble when I was her age. Talking-back and being sassy were some of my biggest struggles. (I was bestowed the gift of sarcasm at a very young age).
And then I thought about how often (EVERY DAY, it seems) I say something I shouldn’t. I’m not a kid anymore. I nag my hubby about stuff I WANT DONE. I gripe at my children for messes I don’t want to clean up. I complain to my friends about something I don’t agree with. There are a lot of “I’s” in that last sentence.
I want this: “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” Psalm 19:4
It was a devotion for her.
But the words hit me in the big fat mouth.
Do you struggle with your tongue?