Blah Blah Blah Revisited

Last week it was Jesse Jackson. This week it's Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid whose mouth spilleth over. In one fell swoop Senator Reid compared opponents of the Senate's abortion funding version of health care to people who resisted the abolition of slavery, women's suffrage, and civil rights legislation. In other words, you are equal to a racist and a misogynist if you don't support a bill that has you pay for killing pre-born children. It seems the more absurd our internal inconsistencies the more absurd the things that come out of our mouths.

This is true for all of us. Gossip, criticalness, lying, contempt, anger, sarcasm, flattery, seduction, etc.... are not just annoying habits that call for daily suppression.   Each reveals a deep darkness in our hearts that defies God and casts Him aside, so we can run our own show. The answer isn't daily suppression of our tongues' troubled ways. Rather, it is the gut wrenching, humbling, admission of darkness of our heart, so it may be worked on by the Spirit and replaced with love for God which flows to others.

I write on this again not just because of Senator Reid, though I am grateful to him for exposing himself to the world, but because our office received a Christmas letter which contained a prayer from one of Joni Eareckson Tada's books. I was moved, as I usually am, by her thoughts. Read, enjoy and adopt her heart on this matter. She is older, but it is a prayer for all ages.

Joni Eareckson Tada

“Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful, but not bossy with my vast store of wisdom – it seems a pity not to use it all – but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few families and friends at the end….

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point swiftly. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, the love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience. I dare not ask for imporved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a sour old person – some of them are so hard to live with and each one a crowning work of the devil. Give me the ability to see the good things in unexpected places, and the talents in unexpected people.  And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

Amen