I wrote a blog post this morning.  I was passionate and articulate about the topic at hand, something I feel strongly about.  Then, as I try to always do, I read the post to my beloved man.  I think it’s important for him to know what sort of thoughts and words I’m putting out here for all the world to see, because we all know they can’t be taken back and they do have great power.

He listened attentively, hands clasped in front of whiskered face, soaking in each thoughtful nuance.

I finished reading and he was quiet.

“That was a bit strong, I think.”

He wasn’t surprised by its passion – he knows I have big feelings and that my convictions, once formed, are stubbornly held.

He was gentle and wise and his understated review encouraged me to think about all of what it would mean for me to put those words out here. 

What kind of man can lead you through a conversation where you see your pride and ugliness, only to send you from the room smiling and inspired to write about the larger issue at hand… how important is it for me to be understood?  Does anyone really need to know what I think about anything?

Of course the proper answer, which I really do agree with, is that I’m not all that important, and I’m certainly not a necessary mouthpiece to anyone’s sanctification process.  God uses me, I hope, to encourage and inspire His women; but He does not require me to do so.  If my beliefs are sound, and based in His Word, then there should be many others who share those beliefs and whom He can use in my stead.

This is a blow to my ego, of course.  God has done mighty and purer-than-gold work in my heart.  I am a new creature!  I am not the woman that I used to be… surely He needs me to go and advertise this for Him!  Or maybe not. 

Maybe I am a good example of what God can do because, by His Spirit, I am able to hold my tongue.  Maybe the proof of His good pleasure to work in me is that I don’t have to spread my epiphanies everywhere, on the deaf and the sensitive.  Maybe He is shown powerful and good because a once-loud-mouthed me can be muzzled.  She can sit quietly.  She is okay if no one ever reads her blog or asks her opinion.  She can trust God to do His work in the rest of His daughters in whatever time and way He sees fit.

This whole idea has brought to me a new thought about trusting God.  I need to trust Him even in my community of His people.  Silence compromises community.  If you don’t ever hear what I really believe about one thing or another, then there is part of me you can’t fully know.  No talk rules are born, and relationships are kept at arms’ length.  This isn’t how I want to do community, nor is it what I believe God created us for.  That being said, He also didn’t grow pearls in this dark oyster of a soul, so that I could just toss them around like candies at a parade.

Every good thought I have and every wise word I’ve ever said came from Him.  Inasmuch as I pray that my thoughts and words may be His, so must I remember that if they are His to give, then they are His to pass on or withhold.