Day 2: Reflections on Loneliness and Wasted Words…
July 1st, 2008
How much do I talk because of my loneliness?
Since I recommended it this past weekend to the teens, I’ve been thinking about Henri Nouwen’s Clowning in Rome. It’s a fantastic book meditating on solitude and reflection and the power of solitude to form authentic community and intimacy amongst believers. There is more to the book, of course, as it is a rich, deep, flavorful piece of meat that is worth chewing on for long hours as you take in its ideas and thoughts. It can be a helpful transition to the prayer room reality that we live in here in which socially-driven, lonely creatures longing for comraderie and community descend upon a room which has, simultaneously, much of both and none at all.
It is Nouwen’s contention that the richest community flows from intimate solace in which one first communes with God. I happen to agree with that contention. It makes perfect sense to me, of course - only in the place of quiet prayer and meditation on the word can one apprehend the necessary tenderness of heart to begin to love and appreciate those whom you may have written off, ignored, or overlooked as potentially glorious comrades in the race that we run together. As my heart comes alive in God, it prepares the way for deeper connections and conversations than I ever could have had from the dry well of my own boredom.
Which leads me to wonder - how often do I seek connections and companionship because of my restlessness? How often do I initiate conversations simply because I am lonely and searching for an escape or a salve? How many wasted conversations have I had in my life, simply because I longed to be heard? I am stirred on this issue because I feel as if I am on the verge of gaining real ground in a seemingly unrelated area of my life if I can find grace in this area. The area I am looking to conquer in my life is my speech. I want to do more than restrain my tongue related to negative or wasted speech - I want to train my tongue to be a precise instrument with words that have true, measurable impact on my own heart and the lives of those around me.
My tongue is an untamable and unruly evil, full of deadly poison
It is the tongue that commands the attention of the apostle James in his letter. I wonder if there was a specific circumstance that led James to address this issue so strongly with his brethren in that day? In my thinking, the way that James arranged his letter leaves us with the tongue and the issue of speech as one of the premiere issues on his mind as it relates to wisdom, sin, obedience, faith, pride, lust, humility, and patience, and particularly prayer. The issue of speech is critically related to the issue of sin and lust. If one can restrain the speech, one has hope in restraining all manner of wickedness. If one is overly free with their speech, one is providing fuel to a fire that threatens to consume our lives in the fires of hell.
It is thus one of the central issues of our lives. The manner in which the tongue is “ordered” or “set among our members” is that it is, in God’s perspective, the rudder that steers the ship. It has the ability to defile the whole body in a manner that is unique amongst the other members of the body. This reality is why James asserts a “stricter judgment” upon teachers: the teachers function as the “tongue” of the body of Christ, and as such can defile entire congregations or movements if they are not precise and measured in speech. This is why James urges us to pursue “the meekness of wisdom” in 3:13. The fruit of righteousness in our lives and the lives of those around us is sown in peace by those who make peace.
The road forward, then, is “peaceful speech” that lacks contentiousness, bitterness, or boasting. Gentle speech, willing to yield in a dispute, with merciful words and good fruit borne of true love not partiality or hypocrisy must be our continual goal in prayer. This is partially due to the fact that prayer, praise, and proclamation are the instruments that will fuel our devotion and intimacy with God forever. As difficult as it is to imagine, there is a coming day for us in the age to come in which 100% of our speech will be God-ward, holy, pure, and filled with immeasurable power. Every conversation, every word whispered in prayer, every truth proclaimed about the beauty of God will cause the heart to melt love and affection for our King.
My tongue is the pen of a ready writer
Thus I want to take the words of Jesus seriously: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles, but what comes out of it. I must fight to have a heart flowing with God, living waters coursing powerfully within me that flow out with forceful gentleness that refreshes the hearer. I want my life to be a fountain that cleanses and restores, a fire that burns and purifies, a lamp that illuminates and awakens. My tongue must be a ready pen filled with glorious words consumed with the beauty of God. The fountain of my heart can only be purified in prayer and fasting. As fasting cleanses the outer man, it restrains and tempers the inner man as well. When I fast with water, toxins come out - often in a very uncomfortable way. The same process happens within me, as the toxins of my thought life seep to the surface of my thinking, as I lack the strength to supress what is so often hidden just beneath the surface of my desires.
I will not become consumed by Jesus via stimulating conversation. I will not awaken my heart to deeper yearnings for God through the way of empty speech. I am weary of wasted words born from a barren heart. I must conquer the issue of loneliness and satisfaction in the love of God if I am to have any hope that I will lay hold of words that have true power to arrest the heart and captivate the imagination. I long to go deep into the place of barren, dry, dusty emptiness of words so that I can wrestle with my thought life and hold every stray thought captive until my mind fully rests on the glory and majesty of the Risen King. I long for the day in which every thought is about Him and Him alone.
Thus I give myself again to a prayer for grace and power to restrain and redirect my words. I want a social life that is driven by a pierced and tender heart, not a barren dryness longing for companionship, conversation, or approval. I want to have long, satisfying conversations with my Friend and emerge different every time. I want to hear His voice, which means I have to silence mine. No matter how much it hurts on the front end.
David
Entry Filed under: forty day fast - july 2008, life at ihop-kc
3 Comments Add your own
1. SusanD | July 1st, 2008 at 11:13 am
I was actually thinking about this topic this morning while I was driving, the relationship between my ability (while in that room) to incline my ear to the ‘still small voice’ and the amount of time in which I spend in conversation in the siderooms, the hallway and bathroom. Not that those conversations are in themselves bad but they provide a release, a way to process, a brief pause from the wilderness that is the prayer room. There is a joy, a tenderness that only comes after staying in the place of barrenness and pressing through. Yesterday, I was reminded what that felt like.
2. Washington | July 2nd, 2008 at 7:18 am
Well said David… no pun intended.
Speaking of your words, I lent your book out to a friend of mine last year… I still haven’t received it yet, I blame you
3. Kristi Walsh | July 5th, 2008 at 4:47 am
“It can be a helpful transition to the prayer room reality that we live in here in which socially-driven, lonely creatures longing for comraderie and community descend upon a room which has, simultaneously, much of both and none at all.” Fantastic sentence that describes the collision that we must pastor people through when they enter into the world of ihop. How true it is that this room contains ‘much of both and none at all.’ Well said.
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