Psalms 52:4 "Thou lovest all devouring words, O thou
deceitful tongue."
James 3:5 "Even so the tongue is a little member, and
boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!"
Matt and I will celebrate four years of marriage in just a
few weeks. Four years isn’t a long time, unless of course you are a freshman in
college, then it's an eternity. The difference is that we
don’t send children off to college with preparatory showers and ceremonies. We
wait until graduation day to mark the student’s achievement.
Our first four have been a whirlwind, esp. for two
40-somethings like us. Recap: we met briefly in November, and had a series of
coffee and ice cream dates for two weeks before the proposal the day after Christmas.
I knew Matt was our missionary to Estonia, but I publicly admit I had no idea where it was, and had to look on a map
before our first date. We married six weeks later, and I had two months to quit
my job and pack for life overseas. I miscarried in July, but then got pregnant
again in September, and Olivia arrived the following June. I had no idea how to
“be” a preacher’s wife, and despite years of caring for other people’s children, very little understanding of the magnitude of motherhood. I had some idea of
what a missionary does; every Christian is, in essence, a missionary. I just
had no idea what it would be like to be called one. I was, as they say,
utterly and blissfully blinded by love.
So what was my major these four undergrad years in the
Institution of Marriage? Which exams
have given me gray hairs? That would have to be, unequivocally, my studies in
Holding My Tongue 101, 102, 103, and 104. Twenty years ago, I achieved a BS in
Speech. I learned to use my tongue. Ironically, it turns out I overpaid
for that degree.
I often recall the advice given on the eve of our wedding.
My dad, who has since been promoted to glory, simply observed, “Matt is
sensitive.”
I hadn’t yet come to that conclusion, and marveled at his
perception from knowing Matt for just a few days before the wedding.
But this knowledge prevented me from blurting many things out in
the early days. I've always been more of the observant type, the kind of girl who enters a room full of people and would prefer just being quiet, in order to fully observe how others interact. So why I missed this is anyone's guess, unless we just go back to the Love is Blind principle.
As if to further emphasize the power of the tongue in
marriage, Mrs. Allen, the assistant pastor's wife at our church, delivered the devotional at my shower, urging me to
use my powers of observation and let them inform my words and actions. That
advice has served me well. If I merely step back, and study Matt for a few
minutes, it does help me to frame my words and actions for greater impact, and often causes me to just wait until later. And for
those who know Matt, he is not an easy person to read. He would have made an excellent poker player from what I know of the game. Aside from that, I’ve swallowed more words than I’ve spoken.
After getting settled in Estonia, we met a lovely veteran missionary couple,
Clarke and Carolyn, through one of my relatives. Carolyn shared a story from
her early days as a preacher’s wife, and it had a huge impact on informing my
subsequent behavior regarding “helping” my husband in ministry. It was so
of the Lord for me to hear; my husband as yet was unaware that my undergrad
major was Speech, and that I was planning on sharing my wealth of experience
and knowledge about public speaking with him! Carolyn shared how, when they
were in their 20’s and just starting out in a new pastorate, they were invited
to the home of a couple whose husband was retiring from the pulpit after decades
of service. The wife took Carolyn aside and told her boldly (I’m paraphrasing I’m sure), “Whenever my husband preaches, I take note of
everything he does wrong. I share all these pointers with him afterward. How
else is he going to know where to improve?”
Now, while this sounds just terrible, and the advice went completely unheeded, it is quite a
skill to be able to give constructive advice, or to even gauge when it’s
appropriate to do so. Nothing is worse than seeing my beloved’s crestfallen
face after a criticism, and nothing better than seeing the shine in his eyes
after an encouraging word. I don’t think there’s a harder job in the entire
world, than to be a preacher. I’ve harshly judged more than one hapless preacher
in my lifetime, without really stepping away to get an objective
perspective. What a terrible, terrible thing to do.
According to scripture, the tongue is compared to a fire; it
takes just a very little flame to set a mountain of dry wood on fire
(Californians certainly can relate to that). It is like a boa constrictor in
its ability to spew words that swallow men whole, or like a lion that can
render it’s prey in pieces. I seldom think of the impact of my words in these
ways. But that is, essentially, the power of the tongue. As I write this, I am
amazed I would ever, ever consider letting criticism fall from my lips. But I
do. It only takes stubbing my toe when I have a headache to start the turn of
events that will cause my tongue to set “that world of iniquity” on fire later in the day. Furious words provoke the “lowest passions,”
and the deceit is when they are spoken in the “pretext of justice” according to
the Treasury of David.
You will be happy to know that I’ve enrolled in my first
graduate-level course, Speech Seasoned with Salt 101, and the theme verse is
Colossians 4:6, “Let your speech be alway with grace, seasoned with salt,
that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.” By God’s grace I’ll
pass with flying colors!
