A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold
      In settings of silver. ~Proverbs 25:11

Evening dawns, and I write a few short entries in my gratitude journal  …

#19 Candlelight
#20 Man’s best friend

By morning, I forget I wrote the prior entries and accidentally write the same entry …

#21 Stocked pantries
#22 Man’s best friend

All in pen. I search my junk drawer for white out.

No luck.

But now #20 and #22 say the same thing, and it bugs me (cuz I’m persnickety like that). I slam the journal closed, irritated instead of grateful, and wish pens were erasable. Then I feel foolish for being irritated, and wish behavior was erasable. Spoken words, too.

Maybe that’s part of the joy of being a writer. The handy dandy delete button patiently sits in the upper right corner waiting for the click, click, click, click, click. Always available to erase the harsh tones. The negativity.

The unfit.

Unfortunately, real life doesn’t work that way. The moment words escape our mouths, they’re final. Like balloons escaping on a windy day – impossible to retrieve.

The lyrics we sang as children. About our mouths, hands, feet, and eyes … they reel through my mind …

Oh be careful little mouths what you say (clap, clap)

Oh be careful little mouths what you say (clap, clap)

For the Father up above is looking down in love,

Oh be careful little mouths what you say (clap, clap).

The next morning, I read the first chapter of Luke. And Zacharias. He opens his mouth to the angel, Gabriel, and doubtfully asks how his wife will bear a son at their age.

In effect, he questions whether God’s promise would - could – ever come true.

“How shall I know this?” he asks. “For I am an old man, and my wife is well advanced in years.”

In today’s English, I think he’s saying, “You’re nuts, Gabe. I’m arthritic. Too old to get my morning chores done. And Elizabeth. Just look at her! The wrinkles, the gray hair. Always catnapping, just so she can make it through her day. How will she ever bear a child at her age? Honestly, Gabe. I think you’ve lost it.”

And of course, Gabriel responds by saying (in today’s English), “Who do you think you are talking to, Zach? Hello?! It’s me … Gabriel! The one who stands in the very presence of God! And you. You have the audacity to ask how a proclamation straight from Him can come true?”

And then …………. ZAP!

Because Zacharias saw fit to speak the unfit - the unbelieving – God mutes him until His promise is fulfilled.

Who knows what would have happened if Zacharias chose not to verbally reveal his unbelief? Oh, his faithless heart would have been faithless, whether or not he put a voice to it. But the mute button was left untouched until the words were out. When voice and unbelief became one … consequences came.

So next time you open your mouth to speak, ask yourself what it is you’re about to reveal. If you’re mind doesn’t conjure up an image of gold apples set in silver, then assume your words to be unfit, and cage them as you would a wild animal. Because you and I … we are not any more immune to consequences than Zacharias was.

And those around us. Are they not also subject to the consequences of our spoken, unfit words?

You think learning sign language was on Elizabeth’s to do list before the arrival of baby John? How frustrating it must have been to her to not be able to verbally plan for this huge, life changing event with her beloved. If I were her, I would’ve thumped Zach’s shoulder and said in my best snarky voice, “Good job, Zach. Now we’ve got all this work of adding the baby’s room onto the kitchen, and you can’t utter a single word. Just … great!” 

But Scripture doesn’t record a single utterance from Elizabeth.  

And quite frankly …. you should follow her cue.

Not mine.