Why Bite Your Tongue?

Ever find yourself sequestered in your home, stuffing gingersnaps in your mouth, to prevent a bunch of words from coming out?

Like say for instance, half a story is being told in your community with such regularity that its general “truthiness” has cemented into fact. But you know the other half, and the only thing holding it back is a thin layer of gingersnaps.

What do you do?

Caramel Gingersnap Sandwiches

(Photo credit: jensteele)

Well, if you’re me, you walk around mad about it for 90 minutes or so, seething at the injustice, imagining how your withering rebuke will wipe the smug off a few faces. Believe me, if there were an Olympic event for the withering rebuke, I’d be the Michael Phelps of it.

But here’s the problem, I really want to act like Jesus and Jesus didn’t act like that.

In fact, he taught that God is our vindicator, not us. At the mother of all bogus death penalty trials, one prompted by religious and political fear mongering, Pontius Pilate gave Jesus the chance to respond, and he didn’t. He remained silent. When Jesus was being tortured to death, he finally opened his mouth to say, “Father forgive them they don’t know what they are doing.”

See, my natural response to personal injustice oozes self-righteousness and sanctimony, and who doesn’t love that in a Christian? Or if I choose not to tell someone off, I’ll tell five random people about it instead, so we can all be annoyed together. Mean, gossiping Christians – another thing people love.

As it turns out, my “natural response” is the problem, it’s what Jesus came to correct. He showed us how live here, and then died for our inability to do it. Or to put it another way:

Without Jesus, I’d be on the horn right now, spreading malice, division, strife and slander, all in the name of justice. Hmm.

But with Jesus, I’m just eating gingersnaps and talking to you. Maybe he’s even raising an eyebrow at that.

Love Dinner Thank God Love Dinner #3 is Saturday night because I need practice.

Without it, my cranky, unregenerate self shoves her way to the front, spits out the gingersnaps and lets somebody have it. Because I don’t want that, I’ve decided we’re going to spend LD3 and the month of December practicing one of the hard ones in Ephesians.

You ready?

Let all bitterness and indignation and wrath (passion, rage, bad temper) and resentment (anger, animosity) and quarreling (brawling, clamor, contention) and slander (evil-speaking, abusive or blasphemous language) be banished from you, with all malice (spite, ill will, or baseness of any kind). And become useful and helpful and kind to one another, tenderhearted (compassionate, understanding, loving-hearted), forgiving one another [readily and freely], as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:29-32 AMP

To join our online community of “bible doers” working out Ephesians 4:29-32 in your own world, just do it and tell us what happens. Post in the comment section or via the contact page. We’ll run the best stories, with a link to your blog here.

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On Love Dinner & Wolfpacks.

Love DinnerI host this little gathering at my house once a month, called Love Dinner. And while I’m a big fan of candlelight, girlfriends, red wine and chocolate, I really have no idea why I am doing it.

Except, I think God wants me to.

It’s like he’s teaching me something about intimacy and trust, building a cozy shelter out of women who also like Milano cookies, root beer floats and Love with a capital L. Ladies, we need this more than we care to admit.

Love Dinner is a haven for women, especially those with wide-eyed panic stares and glazy smiles, whose overwrought, type-A behavior says “I’m fine,” in the same way Sally Field said it in Steel Magnolias.

Uh, clearly not fine, but unless you’re from some warm-climate culture, you’re going to say “Ok good to see you, take care” and move on, thrilled to have dodged some colleague’s weepy elevator meltdown.

Not at Love Dinner. We go there – together – and we ask Jesus along, because a few months ago in Zambia, we realized women who get on their knees together to sort through a mess of broken glass are pretty good at cleaning it up.

That’s what happened in my snug, little living room last night. It was easy to see who was Sally Field, white-knuckling dinner, impatient for us to shut our eyes and pray so they could finally LET IT ALL OUT. My question is: Why wait?

hangover-alan-wolf-pack-speech-movie-poster-GLflm90036

Jesus & Alan in the same post? Sweet.

I’ve decided being a lone wolf is a spectacular waste of time. My wolfpack has grown by a dozen or so, and I realize how lucky am I to have a cadre of women who want to hang out at my house and do battle for me when I’m too far down to do it myself.

And let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near. Heb 10:24-25

Another funny thing about Love Dinner is this:

The people I invite are rarely the ones who show. Last night two women I didn’t invite and one I’d never met before settled right in with everybody else. Perfect!

One woman showed up four hours late and didn’t leave until one in the morning. Another brought her new, deaf, rescue dog. One is so in love and hopelessly twitterpated she can’t speak without giggling. And the baby of our group is sprinting after Jesus in such exuberant and hilarious ways it’s easy to forget she’s only 19.

Last month’s assignment was based on Matthew 22:37-41 wherein Jesus said the two greatest commandments are Love God and Love others. I nearly peed my pants when Baby K told us how she interpreted that – paying for some grown man’s gas with the last $20 of her financial aid.

“I’m sure he thought I was hitting on him,” she said. “And I’m like no way honey, I don’t love you. I love Jesus.”Love Dinner

Team Dallas, who couldn’t come last night, shared this story via email.

Paula and I were driving to Burlington to look for purses when we passed a young lady pushing a stroller on a street without sidewalks. After I passed her I realize how easy it would be for someone to hit her because it was night time.   We circled back and pulled up to her and asked if she needed a ride. She was crying.  We stopped in the middle on the lane and got out and helped her into the car stroller and all – she had a baby – 4 months and a young child 14 months in the stroller.  She said that the boyfriend she was living with would not go get her some milk and food for the baby and the little boy and told her to get it herself, so she was walking to the store that was a good distance away.

We had the privilege of taking her to the store. She would not let us buy the food and milk but we held the babies while she shopped and we took them home. Before they got out we prayed with her and she cried and we believe that God did something special that night in all of us. We prayed for the boyfriend whose parents she said were big in the church.  God is going to do something good for that family.

Do you see? Do you get it? This is what Christians are supposed to be doing. “By their fruit you will recognize them,” Jesus said.

So it’s not entirely about us hanging out and having fun together, although that’s important. It’s about filling up on the love of God, so we can spill it out on other people, releasing, as the Apostle Paul said, the fragrance of God everywhere we go.

This month’s assignment is called Loving The Father. We’re using Psalm 145 as a springboard, reading it daily out loud, to remember just who we’re dealing with and what he promises to do.

But we’re still going to buy grocery gift cards for homeless people and gas up cars because that’s where some holy magic happens and we don’t want to miss it.

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