“If I belittle those whom I am called to serve, talk of their weak points in contrast perhaps with what I think of as my strong points; if I adopt a superior attitude, forgetting “who made thee to differ? and what hast thou that thou hast not received?” then I know nothing of Calvary love.” ~Amy Carmichael
Father. I pray my time with You today be rich, be pure. Lord I want to put to death that thing in me that craves the back-patting, hungers for the notoriety. I want my actions to be born simply out of desire to serve, to love, to bring joy to another’s life. You know I hunger for my life to simply be a reflection of a journey with You, my actions to simply be a response to a conversation with You.
God, I think of the times I have not spoken well of You, and the times I’ve not spoken Your words well. I think of the times I have mocked or scorned others for not understanding You. The times I have treated others with disdain for not appreciating life in You – when those others don’t even understand what that life looks like.
I think of the times I have spoken – but said the wrong thing. I think of the times I have become defensive. Disgusted. The times I have gone off on tangents rather than simply speaking truth washed over with great love.
And I think of the times I have just hidden – cloaked this gift that’s supposed to be light and life, or locked it away – so I wouldn’t have to subject myself to the risk of either saying too much or not saying enough. Because there’s always risk. And sometimes I’m afraid to risk.
I don’t want to be afraid to risk. I don’t want to hide the words. I know the healing that can come in real conversation, in the listening and the speaking and the listening some more. In the well-placed swear that says “I feel your pain and I don’t understand why – but I’m here.” In the “I love you enough to talk even when I don’t know what to say.”
It’s so easy to have opinions. And it’s so easy to speak about issues and about people than it is to dive in deeply and really speak into moments. Our actions are significant, but our words do count. I want to love with words. I need to love with words. I need you to love with words too. And so that’s my prayer for today. For us to use our words well, friend. Let’s love well.
Last year, I shared the stories about pictures I’ve taken. This year during the month of October, I’m opening up my journal and sharing prayers. They’re not eloquent or poetic – they’re simple honest talks with God. Some prayers are joyful and some are screams. Some are said in the morning and some at night. It’s my hope the words might help someone else find the words.
