Monday, February 02, 2015

Grace & Honeycombs

I just read a blog by Karen Ehmann, which was shared by Ann Voskamp...

"I am such a Bible nerd. I love to not only learn the meaning behind the Hebrew or Greek words in Scripture, I also like to study certain English words that pop up at me, pogo-stick style, drilling down deep to understand why perhaps a particular word or phrase is used. And so, I grew curious one day: Why does God use a honeycomb to describe gracious, sweet, and healing speech?...'So,' I questioned my young friend, 'is it safe to say that the sweetness or bitterness of honey is determined by what the bee drinks in and the amount of time it spends in the sun—especially early in the morning?'...But choosing grace will sometimes cost us. Spats and squabbles are oh-so-easy to fall into. We will have to resist the urge to lash out in anger. We might even have to bite down on our tongues. But better a bleeding tongue than a family member’s wounded heart. We might have to choose to let go of the need to prove our point, choosing instead to do the right thing: to impart grace and deal with the other person in love and with utmost patience."

 
Grace...when we fail...
 
Ohhh, and how I have failed by the mere existence of my tongue. My tongue has been the weapon that has wounded the heart of every person I love. I have wounded their hearts.  My eyes fill with tears just at the thought that I could even be capable of such evil....and yet.
 
Through allowing such scriptures as James teach me, i've succeeded somewhat in the taming~~i still have to fight the sin of pride and my need to prove my point and the sin of anger that catapalts me into loud obnoxious vomit that gushes from my tongue~~but i'm still learning. It's the reality of the scars i've left~~on my husband's heart, on each of my children's hearts~~that push me to overcome.  The thought that my words, my anger, have shaped my loved ones lives so negatively.  And forgiveness is undeserved, so I reject its gift of grace over and over again.
 
Yet, grace, the sweetness of the honeycomb, calls to me over and over again asking only that  I open my hands and receive its healing power...allowing that power to radiate and heal even the most wounded by my sin. I receive it, and my cup fills up and flows over...