I am a loud person. I always have been. I walk heavy. When I sigh, it's like I've been holding my breath too long and I am taking another deep one so that I can go back under. Sometimes I fidget. I slam doors. My fingers even stomp when they are typing. If my gum is good, I -enjoy- the chew. ... And I yell.
I am sure that my neighbors must think I'm crazy. I seem to be yelling all of the time. "GET YOUR TAIL OVER HERE!" "GET YOUR SHOES." "WH- A-A-T ARE YOU D-O-OING?" or "COME HERE" (Can you tell most of my yelling is at the kids? and my dogs.)
Sometimes when I start feeling that twinge of awareness about my yelling, I try to "phone a friend" to get the mood lighter and so I change my words to "HALLELUJAH, HALLELUJAH, GLORY DIVINE. THIS CRAZY WOMAN IS LOSING HER MIND!" After a few more, crazy, sing-song thingys, I start to get less loud.
The sad part is, I am often not as angry as I sound. I'm like an animal that puffs himself all up, to appear bigger to the other animals, just so that no one else gets any wild ideas. I am bigger and we'll do this my way. Other times, I'm pretty sure it's an adult version of a temper tantrum. It's got to look ridiculous because the child version looks ridiculous. A big girl having them can't be any better. Getting a puffed up chest doesn't mean that I have more muscles. Just like getting louder doesn't mean that I have anything better to say.
I've really been trying to practice using my "inside" voice. I think that I've gotten a lot better but I can't wait to be completely free of it. The loudness is unnecessary. Sadly it creates more "noise". Then it's harder to hear the words. I am just a "resounding gong or clanging cymbal” as stated in 1st Corinthians 13:1.
I believe that Joyce Meyer once said that If you think that you can't help the way that you are, pretend that you were in front of someone that you really wanted to impress; or consider whether or not your behavior would change in another environment. I thought about being at work. I couldn't imagine answering the phone at the top of my lungs because I was in a hurry. -Or yelling at another adult in a hall at school, or church, or the library because the person was dawdling instead of coming straight to me. I wonder what is it in me that might not want to impress my children or my dear husband. Aren't they the most important people in my life? When I come home from work and take off my work clothes, do I drop my respect and care in the same pile? Why wouldn't I want to impress them more than anyone else?
***
The next part is choppy so bear with me.
A blog I love is "An Inch of Gray". Last night I read it until I cried. Of course, if you read her post from 10/4/2011, you will find that it won't take long to cry in many of her posts. -And then I read some more- There is something about being humbled that just makes everything easier. I've gotten to where I am regularly seeking ways to dial my heart back down a notch. This time, I did it here.
And then I found this on another blog:
Winston Churchill once said, “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” The only way to say this better is found in 2 Corinthians 9:7 - 8, “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”
I realize that such a petty little thing like yelling shouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But that vast span of eternity can take a long time to cross if mine and my beloved are ever parted. I just don't want to hang on to old “should haves”. There is a giving in me that is even bigger than I am. I don't want a “petty little thing”, like being too loud, keep others from getting close enough to accept my gift(s).
And that is all.
No comments:
Post a Comment