The Weekly Encourager – February 1, 2017 – The Flip Side

“Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.” - Proverbs 16:24

Do you struggle with ongoing sin that you can't seem to get rid of? I do. Anyone who knows me has seen my sin of speaking before I think. I'm told that sometimes I can be a good listener; I've learned how to make pleasant conversation with strangers. My words can be compassionate, helpful, thoughtful, or humorous as fits the situation. But other times I just let fly with whatever comes to mind, piercing people with poison barbs. When the Holy Spirit brings conviction, I feel pretty low.

A couple weeks ago, I had one of these terrible encounters in a small group of women. One lady proposed a charity project for our group, and several of us chimed in with suggestions on how it could be done. In my mind, I was just brainstorming like everyone else, eagerly offering ideas on how to maximize our time and efforts for the best result. However, some of the other ladies thought I was “taking over” the project. Perhaps in tit-for-tat mode, they spoke very rudely to me as I was leaving. I felt awful. It's so easy for me to see the “best” way to do something and take charge of a group. Sometimes this ability is welcome, and people have told me that they are glad to have someone step up to organize things. This was not one of those times. My intention may have been good, but my method was bad, and the group made sure I knew it. I felt that I had been a terrible Christian witness.

Thanks be to God, two ladies in the group came to me after the meeting and told me that the group's rude response to me was way over the top, and that people had lost sight of the fact that this was a charity project meant to encourage. The gracious words of J. and P. proved the truth of the proverb: their words were as sweet to me as the other people's words were bitter. Yet I still felt depressed. God has given me a certain personality which others don't like, and this often leaves me lonely. I hate to hurt people, yet it seems inevitable. I keep failing.

A few days later, our family was enjoying lunch after church, discussing current events at a busy café. As we talked about the president's new immigration policy and its possible effect on Muslims, our son made a comment about our nation being a-religious. At that point, a beautiful African-American lady sitting at the next table broke into our conversation, saying, “I'm sorry, but as a person of color, I can't sit here and listen to this hate speech.” Well, we were amazed that she had gotten that impression, because that is the last thing we were saying! Dave and our sons immediately responded, “Oh, no, that's not what we meant,” etc. Feeling the Lord's nudge and saying a quick prayer, I turned to her and began a one-on-one conversation while my family continued on with their separate thread.

This lady had been eating with her husband and three small children. Providentially, our two seats were ideally positioned for this private focused interchange. As I listened to her with genuine interest, she shared how she felt afraid for her children growing up as people of color in this nation, along with several other real concerns. It turned out that she was a lawyer and she had all the traits you'd expect: strong convictions, strong sense of justice, strong reasoning ability, strong verbal skills. But because of my own confident forthright speech, I was able to respond without being upset, angry, or offended. Her attack didn't intimidate me one bit. I was able to defend Christianity by saying that Jesus loved those whom others rejected or hated; prejudice is not a trait of true followers of Jesus. I was able to challenge some of her own beliefs. For example, seeing our group of four white people and hearing only fragments of what we were saying, she shouldn't assume that we were racists or that we voted a particular way, since that would be reverse racism on her part. I challenged several things she said, while agreeing wherever I could and showing compassion for her position. After a heart-to-heart talk with this stranger, some minutes later she had calmed down and was agreeing that she had pre-judged us without knowing anything about us. I asked for her name, we shook hands and parted as friends!

I felt good about that interaction. How many times in these past acrimonious months in our nation's history have I prayed, “Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace!” That conversation was a direct answer to my prayer. God did that. I continue to pray for “Val” that she will think about what I said. May the Lord work truth into her heart. As a servant of the Prince of Peace, I want to be ready in season and out to use every opportunity to advance peace, to fight fear and hate, to dialogue with those who are different, that we may discover how we are the same.

I still didn't see the broader significance of that day until my time a few days later with G., K., and M. As I told these trusted Christian sisters the two stories of my failure in the group project and the success in the café, my mind was opened. I realized that this is the flip side of my gift: I can use speech to calm the angry, to show compassion, to defend the faith, showing that Christians can be open-minded and open-hearted, all because of Christ. Not in spite of, but because of my strong personality, I was bold in response to Val's boldness. Note that, although my friends spoke kindly to me, only the Lord could give me the deeper comfort I most needed. That comfort is knowing that He made me the way I am for a purpose. He can use me and my gifts for His glory. Now I feel gratitude and wonder at what God can accomplish!

I have so much more to say, but it must wait. Friend, if you are reading this and feel like a failure, please know that God created every part of you – uniquely you – for His purpose. You may have some terrible trait, but there is a flip side. Ask Him to teach you how to use that trait for good, by His power. To God be all blessing and honor and glory and praise.

God is faithful,
j

Copyright 2017 Janet A. Marney
As always, I welcome your comments below.