The Prayer I Need Before I Open My Mouth
I answered too quickly the other day.
The question wasn't difficult. Nobody was trying to corner me. Somebody asked if I could do something, and before I'd really thought about what was involved, I heard myself saying, “Yeah, I can do that.”
Then came the details.
Of course there were details.
A date I hadn't considered. Preparation I hadn't considered. Another commitment I'd completely forgotten about until roughly thirty seconds after agreeing.
I walked away thinking, Why didn't you just say, “Let me think about it”?
Apparently those five words are much harder for me than they should be.
I've prayed about major decisions before. I've prayed about where to go, what to do, whether to move forward with something, whether to wait. What I haven't done nearly enough is pray about my mouth before the decision comes out of it.
Some Of My Problems Started With A Sentence
That's uncomfortable to admit.
Not every stressful situation in my life was imposed on me.
Some of it started because I said yes.
Some because I spoke when I was irritated.
Some because I gave an opinion nobody asked for.
There have been conversations where, if I could go back, I wouldn't necessarily change what I believed. I'd change how quickly I said it.
Maybe I'd wait ten seconds.
Maybe an hour.
There are probably a couple where waiting until the following morning would've helped everybody.
Once words leave your mouth, though, they become surprisingly difficult to retrieve.
I've tried.
Apparently “that's not exactly what I meant” does not actually cause the previous sentence to disappear.
Proverbs Has An Annoying Amount To Say About This
I say annoying affectionately.
Proverbs 29:20 asks, “Seest thou a man that is hasty in his words? there is more hope of a fool than of him.”
That's fairly direct.
I would prefer something softer.
Maybe, “The enthusiastic communicator should occasionally consider slowing down.”
Nope.
Hasty words.
Fool.
There it is.
I've read verses about the tongue for years and usually thought about obvious things like gossip, lying, cruelty, profanity. Those certainly matter, but lately I've been noticing how often Scripture talks about simply being too quick.
Quick to answer.
Quick to promise.
Quick to defend yourself.
Quick to decide what somebody meant before they've finished explaining.
That last one gets me.
I’ve Prepared My Response While Someone Was Still Talking
You can look like you're listening while doing absolutely no listening at all.
I've done it.
Someone is explaining their side of something, and I'm already constructing my response. I hear enough to identify the part I disagree with, then my brain goes to work building a case.
Meanwhile their mouth is still moving.
That's not listening.
That's waiting for an opening.
I caught myself doing this during a conversation not long ago. I had an answer ready and was about to jump in when the person added one more detail.
That detail changed things.
Not everything.
But enough that my beautifully prepared response would've sounded foolish.
I'm glad I kept my mouth shut for another ten seconds.
I wish I could claim wisdom.
Mostly they just didn't stop talking soon enough for me to interrupt.
I'll take it.
There Are Yeses We Shouldn’t Give Immediately
This is another area where I've had to learn.
Somebody asks for help and saying yes feels Christian.
Generous.
Available.
Kind.
Sometimes it is.
Other times I'm volunteering time that already belongs to something else.
I've agreed to things because I felt guilty saying no.
I've agreed because the opportunity sounded interesting in the moment.
I've agreed because I didn't want someone to think I wasn't supportive.
Then Tuesday comes.
Why is it always Tuesday in my mind when consequences arrive?
Now the enthusiasm is gone and the calendar has the nerve to contain all the things that were already there before I added another one.
I've become more comfortable saying, “Let me check and get back to you.”
I still don't love it.
There's a tiny part of me that feels like I should be able to produce an answer immediately.
I'm not sure where that came from.
One Man Took Forever To Answer Me
Years ago I asked someone for advice about a decision.
He sat there quietly.
I waited.
Still quiet.
I started wondering whether he'd heard the question.
Eventually he said, “I don't know yet.”
That was his answer.
I remember being mildly disappointed.
I'd come for wisdom.
He gave me uncertainty.
A couple of days later he called and had several thoughts. They were good thoughts too, the kind that clearly hadn't been assembled while I was sitting across from him waiting.
I've remembered that.
There is confidence in being able to say, “I don't know yet.”
I used to think quick answers made someone look wise.
Sometimes quick answers just mean quick answers.
Anger Makes Me Very Articulate
Unfortunately.
Give me a little irritation and suddenly I can construct entire speeches nobody requested.
I know exactly what should be said.
Exactly how it should be said.
I can recall supporting evidence from six months ago that I couldn't have remembered if you paid me.
It's remarkable.
And almost none of it needs to leave my mouth immediately.
I've started trying to pray before speaking when I feel that rush coming.
Not a long prayer.
“Father, slow me down.”
Sometimes that's enough to keep me from answering for a few minutes.
Sometimes I still answer.
Growth is uneven.
A Draft Folder Has Saved Me More Than Once
This isn't particularly spiritual, but it works.
If I'm irritated and need to write something, I sometimes write it without sending it.
Then I leave.
Come back later.
Read it again.
There have been messages where I deleted half.
Others where I deleted the entire thing.
One time I read a draft the next morning and thought, Who exactly were you planning to help with this?
Nobody, apparently.
It was accurate in places.
It was also unnecessarily sharp.
Being technically correct can become a hiding place.
You can say something completely true in a way that makes reconciliation less likely.
I know because I've done it.
Jesus Asked Questions He Already Knew The Answer To
This interests me.
Jesus often asked people questions.
“What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee?”
“Whom say ye that I am?”
“Why are ye so fearful?”
He wasn't gathering information because He was confused.
Sometimes He let people speak.
I tend to underestimate that part of conversation.
Not every silence needs my contribution.
Not every incorrect statement needs immediate correction.
Not every story needs one of my stories attached to it.
That last habit sneaks up on you.
Someone says they went through something difficult, and before they've finished, you're explaining the similar thing that happened to you in 2018.
Maybe they just wanted to finish their story.
There’s Another Side To This
Silence isn't always wisdom.
I've stayed quiet when I should've spoken too.
There were moments when somebody needed encouragement and I assumed they'd already heard enough from other people.
Times I should've apologized sooner.
Times I knew something kind and true about a person and never bothered saying it.
So I'm not trying to become someone who analyzes every sentence until conversation becomes impossible.
That would be exhausting.
Sometimes you should just say the thing.
“I appreciate you.”
“I was wrong.”
“I forgive you.”
“Can I help?”
“I've been praying for you.”
Some words become worse when we keep postponing them.
I don't have a clean rule for which words need waiting and which ones need courage.
Would be nice.
My Daily Prayer Has Started Including My Mouth
Not every morning.
I forget.
But more often than I used to, I ask God to help me with what I say that day.
And what I don't say.
That second part probably needs more attention.
I don't know what conversations are coming when the day begins. Somebody can send a message at 10:17 that changes your mood by 10:18.
So I pray before I know.
“Father, help me listen today. Don't let me promise things just because I feel pressure in the moment. If I'm irritated, put a little space between the feeling and my mouth.”
That's roughly it.
Some mornings I add more.
Some mornings I forget and remember after I've already said something stupid.
Then there's another prayer available.
“Father, help me fix what I just did.”
I've used that one too.
I’m Trying To Get Better At The Pause
That's really what I'm after.
A little space.
Between hearing and answering.
Between irritation and responding.
Between being asked and agreeing.
Between having an opinion and assuming everyone needs to hear it.
Not twenty minutes of solemn reflection every time somebody asks whether I want lunch.
Just enough room for wisdom to catch up with enthusiasm, fear, pride, or whatever happens to be driving that moment.
I answered another question this week and almost gave an immediate yes.
I stopped.
“Can I get back to you?”
The person said, “Sure.”
That was it.
No disappointment.
No awkwardness.
No relationship collapsed because I needed time to think.
Funny how many reactions I've been afraid of that never actually happened.
I checked what I needed to check.
Thought about it.
Prayed.
Then I answered.
Nothing dramatic came from it.
Which, considering how many unnecessary problems I've created by talking too quickly, was actually pretty nice.
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