Imagine sitting with two friends by the side of the river. It’s Saturday lunchtime and you are enjoying the sunshine. Suddenly one of your friends says “it’s taken my sandwich”.
The friend had been laying on his side on the blanket, holding the sandwich in his right hand and because you had all been talking, his hand had been loosely by his side. Looking across to your friend you see a small Jack Russell terrier behind him. The dog had stolen
your friend’s sandwich. This four-legged thief was not on the lead and his owner was nowhere to be seen. When the owner did appear a few seconds later he did give a rather half-hearted apology.
The picnic continues only to be interrupted a minute or two later by another hound bounding up; again not on a lead and the owner some distance away. This time the apology seems to be a little more sincere but nonetheless the animal concerned was clearly not under control and very enthusiastic in its attempts to share your picnic. The most natural thing in the world is to suggest to the owner that perhaps it would be better if in a public place if his canine friend was on a lead.
Now imagine a similar scenario happening another four times in the next 20 minutes. Each time your frustration grows and your remonstration with the owner of the offending beast becomes a little more forthright. Chasing away uninvited visitors becomes a must, at least in your mind. It is something that means you stand up, and as the owner appears you vigorously suggest that they should pay more attention to how they control their dog and actually they have a responsibility to ensure that it is not a nuisance.
There’s been a clear progression in your approach to the owners. What started out as a gentle word has been fuelled by the increasing frustration of the repeated visits and the nuisance perpetuated by the uninvited, four legged gatecrashers of your picnic.
By the time you talk to owner number six your words are more than forthright and energetic. You’re feeling the pressure of the repeated interruptions, the nuisance of theft of food, challenges to the hygiene of the whole exercise of your picnic and the loss of your ability to enjoy the peaceful riverside in the way that you expected.
The problem of course is that owner number six has not met you before, not had any interaction with you until this encounter, and while not entirely innocent, is certainly not deserving of being in receipt of your accumulated frustration.
To put it simply you’ve been trapped, one incident after the other has added to the chains of frustration and anger. By the time dog and owner number six come along, you’re out of room to manoeuvre, thoughts and words are now clearly funnelled. The poor owner of this example of “man’s best friend” becomes the victim of your accumulated emotional pressure.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been thinking and praying about what God wants, through His Spirit, to do with the words we speak. I’ve been reading and meditating on Genesis chapter 1 and the first chapter of John’s Gospel. In both passages God is speaking. In Genesis chapter 1 He speaks to bring the world into being, to provide a place is beautiful, good and where life can be enjoyed. In John’s Gospel He speaks from his very heart and Jesus, God’s ultimate word, comes to bring life.
I want to suggest, that as followers of Jesus, God wants our words to have an impact for good on the environment and the people we meet. He want our words to reveal His character to bring healing. I believe God is challenging us to let our words, with his help, produce:
- Light not darkness
- Truth not lies
- Revelation not deception
- Life not death
- Freedom not bondage
- Hope not depression
How did I manage to get so trapped that Saturday lunchtime?
This blog was first posted in March 2011