It is so easy to take up offense and wave it around, carrying it proudly, declaring it loudly, to all who will listen. The intent is to get as many people who will, to join you in the parade.
The flag…Offense.
Even the word on my tongue produces a bitter taste. I am tempted to put it in my mouth and savor it before I swallow, but swallowing even a tiny bite makes my stomach turn. It eats away at me and relief comes only in the spewing it out, all over.
As I reflect on that supposed ‘relief’, I see that the offense is arm and arm with pride. I also see the effects of these sour words and thoughts on the crowd I’ve brought with me. It puts a blanket over the people I love, a hush on them, a falling of countenances as they too, taste of this polluted water.
This result is so ugly that it gives me pause. I must be still. I must corral these errant thoughts and take them captive. I put a ‘bridle’ on, with bit in mouth, and turn from such as this.
The tiny rudder that steers a great ship is that tongue that speaks carelessly with loud, raucous authority, guiding a multitude into deep, dark waters. It churns the waves into a powerful tempest.
“Look at the ships also, though they are so great and are driven by strong winds, are still directed by a very small rudder, wherever the inclination of the pilot’s desires.”
James 3:4
I stop. Do I really desire to be that captain who would carry his passengers into danger? Or…do I long for the quietude of still waters, glistening in the starry night, glowing in the dawn, gently rocking in the noonday heat?
I realize that I am indeed responsible for words I speak that would influence those around me.
As one who would lead, or encourage, or pray, I must carry the precious seeds of life, hope, joy, faithfulness, peace, love, patience, mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation. These are the flags that I should wave, even in the face of grave offense.
“For we all stumble in many ways. If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a mature man, able to bridle the whole body as well.”
James 3:2 NAS
Love you my friends,
Betsy