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Yes...I...struggle...for...words!

They do not come easy for me.

Penning several monthly columns, devotionals for other sites, and my own blog posts is definitely very frustrating. With a couple of learning disabilities, I struggle to craft the right words, but I do it in obedience for, to this, the Lord has called me.

Besides writing, talking is made more difficult because the greedy fingers of fibromyalgia grab at my brain, snatching out words, even the simplest ones, and leaving behind gaps in my memory. Completing a sentence is sometimes impossible.

But do I wrestle to craft those words that will jump off the end of my tongue as much as I wrestle over my writing? Do I think before those words leap out? Usually...but sometimes, I don’t and I get into trouble.

Should I be concerned about finding the right words to say? Jesus says I should, “On the day of judgment men will have to give account for every idle (inoperative, nonworking) word they speak…Your words now reflect your fate then: either you will be justified by them or you will be condemned.” (Matt. 12:36 Amp, Matt. 12:37 TLB)

Wow! That is truly hard to comprehend, isn’t it? If we are required to answer for our speech, then we need to be cautious of what exits our mouths, for, as Jesus said, “Whatever is in the heart overflows into speech.” (Luke 6:45b TLB)

The English biblical commentator and Presbyterian minister Matthew Henry wrote, “The heart is the root, the language is the fruit.” We cannot have the sweet nectar of a fruitful, positive confession if the root system of our hearts maintains sour or rotten thoughts. A change in the root system will produce a change in the fruit of speech.

Consequently, “A man’s stomach shall be satisfied from the fruit of his mouth…and with the consequence of his words he must be satisfied [whether good or evil].” (Prov. 18:20a NKJV, Prov. 18:20b Amp)

Solomon warns us, “Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life.” (Prov. 4:23 Masoretic Text) Another version says, “Be careful what you think, because your thoughts run your life.” (Prov. 4:23 NCV) And will jump off the end of your tongue!

Some say, “I don’t see that my words matter that much.” Well, our words do matter. If our tongues speak from the abundance of our hearts, and if Jesus and Scripture say our words are critical, then, our words really have extraordinary power and effect, embodying life and death, just as Solomon said, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” (Prov. 18:21a NKJV)

The Message version puts it this way, “Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit—you choose.” So, who in their right mind would choose death over life, poison over fruit? We do!

The words we speak can set our lives on fire for harm or for good. Our words can bring others to tears or lift their spirits. Our words can even change the atmosphere around us.

Therefore, Paul urges us, “Let your conversation be as it becometh the gospel of Christ.” (Phil. 1:27a KJV) This means we are to behave and speak as a citizen of the Kingdom and worthily reflect on the Gospel.

Knowing the consequences of his thoughts and words, David prayed, “Take control of what I say, O LORD, and guard my lips.” (Ps. 141:3 NLT) Therefore, “we take every thought captive and make it obey Christ.” (2 Cor. 10:5b GNT)

My prayer is this: Lord, in my word struggle, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to You, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” (Ps. 19:14 NLT)

What about you? Do you struggle to carefully craft those words, taking captive those thoughts, before they roll off the end of your tongue?



***A portion of the above is taken from my upcoming book Ready or Not...Here I Come!

Today's post is part of...

A sweet cyber-friend Sandra Heska King (SandraHeskaKing.com) posted an article a few months ago as she linked up with Glynnis Whitwer (GlynnisWhitwer.com) entitled Where I'm From.

Then, I read a third one written by another sweet cyber-friend Erin Patrick (My Nuggets of Truth).

As I read them, the light bulb flashed! I remembered that I had worked on the same thing in a workshop some time ago. It was a fun assignment, so I decided to dig mine out. The students were to write where they were from, as their family heritage, using this template...

The WHERE I'M FROM Template

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.
I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).
I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)
I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).
From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

I didn’t exactly follow the template and I added to the original...

I am from the house historic, once nestled in vast acreage of farmland, where long-ago presidents came to visit and soldiers were stationed, where barn cats roamed and ducklings swam, where horses whinnied and peacocks unfurled their feathers, where fresh fruits and vegetables graced the family table alongside the farm delights of just-laid eggs and butter and milk from our dairy.

I’m from the precious grandmother, who allowed her granddaughter to decorate her hair and the grandfather that smoked those stinky cigars and snuck snacks for me that were a no-no. I am from the mother who loved to chew freshly ground coffee and eat raw potatoes with salt as she fixed dinner, and the dad who gave horsey rides until his back ached, who bought me a softball and bat, who played his trombone in duet as I attempted to play the piano.

I’m from drinking from the hose in the yard, jumping over the sprinkler, sun-blistered shoulders, and playing in the dirt, from the days of open windows and no air conditioning, and riding bicycles around the circle until the bugs of night hit our teeth, then lying in the grass to watch the wonders of the star-studded sky.

I’m from doctors who made house calls. I am from matching sibling pajamas on Christmas Eve. I am from the pear tree that skinned my elbow when I slid down its trunk. I’m from the club with my friends under the big pine tree.

I’m from antennae TV with two black and white stations, from Gumby and Pokey, Mighty Mouse, Howdy Doody, Hopalong Cassidy, Sky King, Ding Dong School, The Lone Ranger, Lassie, Pinky Lee, Roy Rogers, Cisco Kid, and Kukla, Fran, and Ollie.

I’m from American Bandstand in the mid ’50s with Dick Clark, vinyl LP and 45 records on the hi-fi, Wolfman Jack, and sock hops. I’m from itchy wool sweaters and dresses, knee socks and plaid, pleated skirts, because wearing pants to school was not allowed. I’m from come-home-when-you-hear-the-bell-ring-or-else to get cleaned up for Daddy and dinner at 5:30.

I am from the pages of long-forgotten albums of ancestry and heritage, with roots in England, Ireland, and Germany, from upstanding characters who believed in keeping their word, who sought the Lord and helped their neighbors.

I’m from salvation found at a Billy Graham crusade and standing in awe as I met him at my grandparents’ home. I am from Bibles, worn and frayed, marked and loved, from third-row, organ-side Baptist services on Sundays and Wednesdays, and choir practice, from kneebenders who sought the deep, abiding love of God and to serve in return.

~Thank You, Lord, for my wonderful heritage and these precious whiffs of memories!

~~I hope you’ll try it. It’s a great memory jogger.

photo courtesy of imelda @flickr.com
God sometimes requires me to do something that appears to have obstacles and seems beyond my power to accomplish. Or it is downright scary! The situation lurks before me as a rushing river, barring me from the new territory of promise on the other side.

One of the scariest things the Lord has wanted me to do is write. As many who know me, even a little, know that writing was not my idea. Six months after I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2000, the Lord whispered to my heart to write for Him.

“Ummm…’scuse me, Lord. Write? Me? But I don’t know anything about writing.”

Silence…just the confirming impression to write. Talk about getting out of the boat and walking on the water! In obedience, yet not having the faintest clue what I was doing, I started writing a book on the topic that He led me to research.

My desk chair became my discomfort zone. Sometimes, my torture chamber. Physically and mentally.

Being an introvert and shy, I was hesitant to venture out. It is scary out there. Lions, and tigers, and bears! Oh my! Submitting those first dozen or so articles and devotionals for magazines and websites was excruciating…as I waited…and rejections came to my inbox.

And then there’s the road to book publication. It is fraught with all sorts of intimidating gremlins and rejections. I worked on my book for ten years and it will soon see the light of day and have that fresh aroma of real pages!

I don’t think about the scary parts any more. I just continue stepping out into unfamiliar territory. I won’t fall. The Lord is there. And even if I do fall, He’s there to pick me up, brush me off, and send me on my way again.

Writing is now my passion, my purpose, and my permanent project. My discomfort zone has mellowed, except for an occasional uncomfortable lump of rejection in my chair. I’ll continue to write until the Lord tells me to stop.

We all have our easy chairs, our deep, comfy recliners of complacency that keep us in our comfort zone. No matter what name we assign these situations, whether rejection, doing something we’ve never done before, or obeying God in some new area of life, if we do not get up out of our comfy recliners and step out in faith, these things bar us from receiving all that God has for us.

He does not part the waters of any barrier until we take that first step forward, as the priests did at the river Jordan, “As soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. It piled up in a heap.” (Josh. 3:15-16a NIV)

When we hesitate, the view of God’s promise on the other side drifts off in the distance. Sitting on the river bank in our easy chair, we cling to our old ways. Only when we dare to get up and step out into that rushing river does God make His power and resources available on our behalf.

When a rushing-river circumstance enters your life by whatever means, what do you do? Do you stick with what is safe, remaining on the river bank, pushing back in that comfy recliner? Or do you step out in faith, plunging your foot into the water?

Whether in writing or any other area of life, if you never take a chance to forge ahead in faith, the writer of Hebrews says that “without faith it is impossible to please God.” (Heb 11:6 NIV) And isn’t that your heart’s desire…to please God?

The Lord wants to do something new in and through you. Are you too comfortable to let Him?

“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
I will hold you up with My victorious right hand.”
(Is. 41:10 NLT)



(This post is part of a blog chain of writers from Christianwriters.com as we write on The Discomfort Zone. If you’d like to check out the other participants, the list is on the right at the top of the sidebar.)