“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
I grew up hearing this phrase and I despised it. A lot of times, it was partnered with the infamous “it’s not what you said, it’s how you said it” statement that got all the blood inside me boiling.
They say when you get older that you’ll understand, but as a kid you refuse to believe you could ever be wrong. You refuse to believe that you would ever use the same phrases that left you too angry to speak. You refuse to believe that a sentence that used to drive you up the wall would end up being the exact lesson God was going to teach you 10 years later on a mission trip. You refuse to believe it because if God is going to use a phrase to teach you something, it must be true. And if it was true, then it had to have been true when your parents used it as well.
I want to start off by apologizing to my mom and dad and really anyone who had to put up with me during my adolescent years. My parents probably hold the Guinness World Record for how many times they had to tell me I had an attitude problem. How many times they had to tell me if I can’t take the heat, I need to stay out of the kitchen. How many times they had to walk on egg shells when joking with me, but turn around and get mauled by insensitive condemnation coming from my end.
I was ruthless.
I was vengeful.
I was careless.
I was disgraceful.
And that’s to put it lightly. When I spoke, I never thought about who I was going to hurt. And if I did happen to think about it, I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that I was going to be right. And I was going to make sure everyone knew it.
I’ve grown a lot in these aspects, before and throughout the race. I’ve learned how to take a joke. I’ve been in the process of learning how to control my attitude and my tone. Now I’m learning how to bite my tongue. I’m learning that not everything that gets thrown at me needs a response. Not every bullet needs a counter. Not every stab needs a retaliation. Not every spear needs a more forceful, intentional attack. I’m learning that I don’t need to be on the defense every moment of the day. God is my defender and sometimes it’s best to let Him speak through my silence.
I know that these next two months are going to be filled with growth in discernment for me. God is going to use these months to teach me how to decipher when and what is appropriate to say and how to say it with love. I’m finally accepting the challenge. I’m finally stepping up to the plate. I’m finally going to learn how to only say something when it’s nice and say it without a distasteful tone.
A few months back, I wrote a blog about pulling a David. I threw a mini temper tantrum about having to leave Thailand so early and not being okay with it. I was angry with God and I let Him know it because I knew He could take it. I knew He wanted me to let Him into that dark part of my life.
In Malaysia, in that blog post, I pulled a “Psalm” David, if you will. This month, I’m learning how to pull a David in regard to his ongoing battles with Saul. Through all the trials Saul had David encounter, David never spoke ill of Saul and never retaliated. Through all the battle fronts Saul placed David at hoping he would be murdered, David never refused to go and fight the Philistines. Through all the spears Saul threw at David in an attempt to murder him himself, David never threw one back. Instead, he continued to serve and love Saul. David knew how to bite his tongue and control his temper. These next two months, I’m going to learn how to pull a “1 Samuel” David.
I want to learn to not be defensive.
I want to learn how to control my attitude and my tone.
I want to learn to let God be my defender and speak through my silence.
I want to learn how to bite my tongue.
“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” -Ephesians 4:29
