I’ve wondered, when the apostle James wrote his epistle, did he look down through the corridors of time, observe the span of my life, and then set to work on chapter 3? My tongue has landed me in plenty of embarrassing situations and how-do-I-get-out-of-this predicaments. I’ve wasted words on idle gossip and swallowed words when I should have been courageous enough to tell the truth. But most regretfully, my words have cut, gracelessly, and hurt people around me.
Salt is a tricky thing; not enough and you’re facing a bland, unenthusiastic plate. Too much, and you’ll be spitting out your dinner. Finding that balance takes practice. I don’t want to be a Pollyanna or a negative Nelly. Somewhere in the middle there has to be a place for grace and truth to meet; where my words are not controlled by my emotions or by the fear of what other people might think.
I hope this space will be thought provoking, kind, and generous, but never bland.