Shhh, Don’t Say a Word

“…but why me Lord, why does it always have to me!” That would be screaming, complaining to God when he nudges me to keep quiet.

That would be me when I have to swallow back the poison conceived in my heart making it’s way up my speech organs.

Growing up, I and my siblings reared ourselves in the mastery of verbal battle…yea, I mean verbal insults.

No one was able to bring on the level of irritations and provocations we did to each other. Talented in pushing buttons, you’d need reserve strength to keep from scouring the house for any sharp instrument. And I’m only half kidding.

Maybe it’s because we knew ourselves better than most people on the outside thought they did. Especially the little ones, my twins, in their early teenage phase were like untamed tigers.

They could never win the physical battles but made up for it by sharpening their tongues.

One time when it seemed they were not studying enough for their coming examinations, I decided confiscating their phones to prevent distractions would be the best solution.

I had no sooner made the announcement when one of them turned to me with this face as if to say, “Fool, let’s see you try!”

Woah! Hold up. Who she be? I made a dive for the phone, she dodged, opened her mouth and released a range of bulletic insults at me before I could regain my footing.

“I don’t even know who you think you are. You think Christianity is all this rubbish you’re doing. You’ll be thinking you’re better than us…” And on and on she went.

Was I flabbergasted?

Was she done? No. She stepped right into my face, laughing, daring me to do my worse. What?! Me? This girl had forgotten who I was. How my heart seethed and boiled.

Every organ in my body told me to knock her right out of my face. To twist her arms behind her and bash her head into the wall. I could do it. I’d done it ever since I could remember. What was different now? Who born again epp?

I knew exactly what to say to bring her down immediately. I’m good in insults too…used to be. Had 15 years of internship in it. No matter what she thought she knew, I had six years ahead of her.

I felt the words at the tip of my tongue. I could taste it and how satisfying it promised to be. I knew it was going to make me win this battle. I know most of her weaknesses and fears that she had confided in me. I could release them back to her face slowly and carefully.

I knew they were going to hurt her badly. I’d say those words then beat her nonsense, and still seize the phone.

I did not remember that she was my little sister or that I loved her but just one thing held me back. Just one kept those words in my throat- It just didn’t feel right. Jesus wouldn’t want me to say such hurtful words.

That resistance hurt worse than the insult because it meant God wasn’t on my side. Here was someone using MY weaknesses against me but I wasn’t allowed to do the same? There I stood, conflicted, broken-hearted, seething. Instead, I rushed into the nearest room, slammed the door, and then cried my heart out.

That was not the first time God was being unfair. Neither has it been the last. Every time, I’m the one who’s got to shut up. I’m the one who’s got to be quiet. I’m the one who’s got to bear my anger. I’m the one who’s got to forgive? I’m the one who’s got to make the first move? What of me, huh? Why do I always have to play the fool? I hate so many things during those moments, especially my Christianity. Until…

For my sister’s case, it was after the heat passed: a day later when we’re on near-talking terms again.

It was three days later when it was like nothing happened at all. At those moments, I thank God for keeping me shut.

I thank God I did not say words I did not mean but she would have thought I did. I thank God I did not insult her intelligence or make a mockery of her confidence because of anger.

In the movies or books I’ve seen, that’s usually a serious source of conflicts- out of anger, men have disowned children, lost valuable relationships, hurt loved ones, even murdered or maimed someone.

Concerning my initial question, I now put it to you. “Why must it always be you?”

If being born again left you with your previous choices then Christ died in vain. For Christ died to bury the old self and resurrect the new.

Do you find yourself asking the same question?

Are you tired of the Holy Spirit’s restraint?

Do you wish he’d leave you alone to do as you wished?

The answer is Yes, it must always be you because you’re his child. He’s working in you something beautiful and illogical. Get lost in the flow and always obey. You can never regret that one.

If being born again left you with your previous choices then Christ died in vain. For Christ died to bury the old self and resurrect the new.

Please allow the Holy Spirit to do his job. It gets easier, promise.

Psalms 64:3 Who whet their tongue like a sword, and bend their bows to shoot their arrows, even bitter words.

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