The Tongue

The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.’

For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.’

The one who guards his mouth preserves his life; The one who opens wide his lips comes to ruin.’

The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.’

I feel my tongue has been set on fire by the lonely, living hell I am enduring. With no one to regularly speak with, I find myself in my car, alone, ranting. And the seething energy of such unholiness lingers on my tongue like a stench and carries over into my dealings with my neighbors. I feel I am far from grace. And it is solely my tongue’s doing.

I have strong feelings about the state of our nation and society. And when I see more darkness and stupidity, I get angry. Uber for dog walkers makes me angry. If you don’t have time to walk your dog get a new job! You are literally paying someone to enjoy your life for you. Beautiful women insecurely strutting around naked at Austin scenester parties makes me angry. I want to put a towel over their beautiful bodies and tell them they are loved, and this is not the way to find anything but trouble. All the soulless, trivial stories I see on my Facebook feed make me angry. We have a platform to communicate with everyone we’ve ever known in our entire lives, and we’re either not using it at all or to say Happy Birthday! But I fear this anger is just a thin guise for a deep, deep sadness. These things don’t make me angry really, they make me sad.

I am prepared to eat the fruits of my tongue, no matter how unpleasant. I know under this layer of folly there is a bounty of grace and wisdom waiting patiently to take the reins. This same tongue will probably save my life one day.

God really created something incredibly powerful in something so small. That seems to be one of His favorite things to do. For there would be no grand fields of flowers without the tiny honeybee, no ocean without the invisible drops of rain, and no faith to move mountains without the tiny mustard seed of His word.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at
%d bloggers like this: