It is Monday afternoon, and the rain falls with a steady, insistent grace, turning the world outside a shade darker, cooler, almost contemplative. As I begin to wrap up my day, a day full of busyness, meetings, and the relentless pursuit of information. I am reminded that even the most carefully laid plans may be interrupted. The water purifier, that humble servant of modern comfort, has chosen to fail me today. And still, no water. Yet, in these inconveniences, there is a certain poetry. This morning commenced with a delightful meeting with my daughter, a conversation full of plans and hope. Later, tasks awaited me, each one demanding attention, and yet the electricity, that most ordinary of blessings, refused to grace our home until well after 9:30. One cannot help but wonder what tomorrow shall bring, given the relentless rain. But it is when one turns from the petty frustrations of water and electricity that the mind may wander to loftier matters, the Word of God, ever the lamp to...
“Those who guard their mouths and their tongues keep themselves from calamity.” — Proverbs 21:23 It is a most intriguing experience, is it not, to stand in the presence of someone who has wounded you and feel a thousand unsaid words rise to the tip of your tongue? Ah, the human tongue. So small, so delicate, so deceptively dangerous. There are moments more than I dare admit, when the sharpness of my thoughts threatens to spill out. At times like these, I find myself pressing my lips together with the elegance of a lady refusing to entertain scandal at a grand ball. But oh, how my thoughts rebel inwardly! I wish I could confess that biting my tongue is a graceful art I have mastered. Truthfully, it is a daily battle. A tug-of-war between the woman I used to be, the woman I long to be, and the woman God is shaping me into, slowly, patiently, faithfully. People observe the stillness of my face and imagine serenity. But inside? A storm often gathers. There are days when the injustice of ...