Man, I killed it...twice!

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.  (James 1:19 NIV)

Last night the CPWM, Cumberland Presbyterian Women Ministries, had our annual Ladies Night Out and went to Robinson for pizza at Monicals.  As usual, our pizza was delicious and chatter was going 100 miles-an-hour.  Honestly, you could barely hear in that little room.  It was great though.  Towards the end, we had a very short business meeting and then our president asked if anyone had anything to share.  The stories started.  We always have good stories.  But this time these were serious ones, the kind that give you goose bumps.  Normally our stories are crazy memories from the past which lead to another one and another one, etc.  You catch my drift.

So I decided to chime in and tell the ladies about Sanctus Real.  They were at our fair this year for Elevate 2011 and their stage time was cut short due to a storm heading our direction (which now, considering what just happened at the Indiana State Fair, was the right thing to do at the time even though we were disappointed) so we didn't get to hear the lead singer's entire testimony...which is awesome.  So I start to share just a small portion of what I know about Matt's story, which is very touching and emotional, and here's how this very touching and emotional story went...

"Sanctus Real had finished their latest album, Pieces of a Real Heart, before the lead singer and his wife found out that their unborn son had a genital heart defect..."  Oh boy, I killed it.  Did I just say "genital" right here at the table?  Back up and start over.  "...their unborn son had a congenital heart defect and soon after his birth, he had open heart surgery, where he died right there on the table..."  Okay, now in my defense, people were commenting and oohing and aahhing so my story was a bit chopped up, and yes, I had killed it with the Freudian slip just a moment ago anyway...when I realize they think the baby died, which is what I said, but I was getting to the part where the nurses, with their hands, pumped his heart back to life as the parents stood by watching.  But I had already killed it yet again.  Man, I had a really goose-bump-worthy story and I killed it not once, but TWICE.

This is the story of my life.  I speak so quickly and my mind moves at 100 miles-an-hour and the words just come out...and sometimes they're not the right words.  Maybe my profession is to blame for this.  I sit and listen to attorneys, witnesses, judges and others' words day after day.  I just have to sit there and take them all in without saying anything...and if you know me, that is a tough task.  My poor Jay gets an earful by the time I come home, especially if I've had something all day.  I know he doesn't hear what I'm saying, he just pretends to listen, but that's okay...I get my turn at talking.

Of course the very-applicable scripture from above comes to mind every time I start the diarrhea of the mouth (as my friend puts it) or puking from the mouth (as another friend says)...Now, wait a minute, are they talking about me?  This is two different friends using these phrases around me...yikes. I've got to learn to zip it.  I know this is a downfall of mine, but man, I like to talk (and hey, it's in my genes so it's not entirely my fault).  I can't stand silence and awkward silence is the death of me.  Why do I feel like it is my responsibility alone to keep a conversation going?  But I do time and time again.

Ahh, I just can't do it...quick to listen and slow to speak.  How am I suppose to do this?  I know that silence has many benefits, I don't want to be a fool, but I can't help but think of the many missed opportunities to witness by being silent.  Listening is very important and sometimes that is all that is needed, but there are so many times when silence will kill your big chance.  There are times when silence is misinterpreted by others.  I know I speak when I should listen.  I know that I need to choose my words carefully.  I also know that I'm never going to sit back and be silent.  I will never be that person who is too shy to speak or offer an opinion.  It isn't who I am (and if you see that I am, something is drastically wrong, SOS).

So I have decided maybe I need to use what I am good at and have plenty of.  Now instead of praying for me to shut up all the time (although I do know there are times, MANY times, silence is best) I pray that God will use my words for His glory and His purpose, that what I say will reflect Him and not necessarily me, that He will give me the words to say. I don't know if it's working or not, but I will keep trying, and I'm certain the time will come when I'll again kill a really good, goose-bump-worthy story.