The Sound of Truth

It is one of life’s bitterest truths that bedtime so often arrives just when things are really getting interesting. 

     ~ Lemony Snicket

If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who “worry their prayers” are like wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.
     ~ James 1:5
     I knew so much better than my folks.  Especially when it came to my life, and sometimes theirs too.  I spouted truths as if it were my job never giving care to where the words landed, what wounds they left, after all, it was the truth.  Too often it lead to tears or anger or stomping up the stairs and throwing myself on my bed.  I never knew what they felt like, after all I was speaking the truth.
     The difference was that I was not speaking the truth in love.  I was shooting the truth like well aimed arrows in a competition. My intent was not to help, it was to wound and make my point.  
    Someone once commented on her assessment of what kind of a parent I would be as I was always going to bed so early.  How would I ever raised teenagers?  It hurt.  It was not spoken in love, it was spoken to vaunt the speaker up.  
     Occasionally I’ll hear someone speaking “truth” that reminds me of the way I spoke or the tone in which I was addressed.  I hear something above that.  I am forgiven for those words I spewed so long ago.  I hear
the sound of forgiveness, the look of the wounded, the look at the archer. And I am given the grace to forgive the speaker who is also so wise that they shoot the truth out.
     Lord, today, please help me to speak the truth in love, through your grace, in a way that can be heard. Let my silence be equally important, directed by you.
     Because of Him,

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