My “Mama” In Me…

It had been a busy day. I had been running around doing a few things preparing my grandson for his upcoming camping trip. We finally got to our last destination, parked and were just about to get out of the car when I felt something hit my car. I casually looked over my shoulder and saw a lady getting out of her car and she said “I am so sorry do you want to check your car?” The humorous me responded, “Please don’t tear it up it’s the only one I have, don’t worry about it.” I continued getting my things preparing to go into the store. Suddenly, I heard a tap on my window…there she stood with a smile on her face. She says to me as she hands me a “Starbucks” gift card, “You are so kind and sweet anyone else would have probably cursed me and gotten upset…please accept this.” Wow what a nice gesture. One never knows the impact of the little things on someone else’s behavior. Principles that I acquired from my mother that continue to stay with me. A kind word is not costly. A sense of humor is golden. My grandson looked at me and replied, “Wow, that was really nice of her Nahti and you’re funny?!” Always learning ever teaching is what I do. Though I am not a coffee or a tea drinker that gift card gives me an opportunity to “pay it forward”. Excited about the opportunity to do so.

Fear is Just A Number

For the first time in my life I actually had a panic-attack today…tears, anxiety, shortness of breath the works…a colleague helped me through it.  God used her in an awesome way. Afterwards she challenged me to speak with God about as I relaxed it in efforts to find out what He wanted me to discover .  I discovered that God wanted me to not only work on my issues with math but he also wanted me to experience what a panic attack feels like.  I am not suggesting that in order to understand one must always go through the experience.  However, this experience gave me a deeper understanding. It also opened my eyes.  I did not realize that I have such a fear when it comes to math…this one experience took me back to a math teacher who was brutal towards me in high school and a high school counselor that told me that I was not college material. I didn’t know that stuff was still there. This one project showed me that I had been masking this fear for quite sometime.  I had been masking it with humor and using the help of others as my crutch. I thought of the Statistics class I took in  my doctorate program…I had a professor and classmates  who literally held my hand and walked me through it.  It’s not until you’re forced to face it that you’re even aware that it’s there.  As I fought to get off the phone my colleague would not let me run-away.  At one point I felt the anxiety taking over and I fought to give in … that felt safer.  My colleague was committed to helping me through this.  And I got through it.

The Bible teaches us  a lot about the importance of relationships and how the strong should help the weak.  Today’s experience was an in-your-face example of this.  If my colleague had not stood in the gap and helped me through this the outcome would have been totally different. God has not given me the spirit of fear and when it comes over me He presents a way out.

Though I must work with the numbers I will fear no panic for He is with me…  What’s your number?

Getting Rid Of Clutter

As the year comes to a close, I am remembering a tradition that is kept somewhere in Italy.  Several years ago when I first read about this tradition I decided to incorporate it into my life.  On New Year’s Eve the people in this small town literally throw items out of their windows that they do not want to carry over into the New Year.  The idea is to get rid of all clutter and to start the new year afresh.  Before midnight they burn these items. 

Today as I was looking through some old boxes I thought of this tradition and I begin to get rid of old papers and junk.  As I got to the bottom of one box I found a letter addressed to me and my ex-husband from my father. I immediately recognized the envelope as it was the stationary from the mission that he and my mother had founded.  I smiled as I recognized his “awful” handwriting.  As I began reading the letter the tears began to flow…

Dear Ray & Mich,

Thanks for being my friend at a time I really need a friend that has been my struggle. I ask where is that friend that I can open up to and won’t have to be what they want me to be in order to relate to them but I can be who I am and grow and they will pitch in and help me and really have my interest at heart and so should I.  I trust that I am not sounding selfish…there are times when we adults need parenting. You were there for my time.  I know it sound scary and crazy that is the need sometimes we need parenting in love because we act like the child. When something is missing in our growing up make up.  Thank you for allowing me to share my feeling.  If I can always keep in touch with my feeling and know where they are going I will be all right and with God’s help.  There are several windows I look out of at life. I call them…

1. The windows of 70 yrs
2. The windows of 50 yrs of marriage
3. The windows of over 40 years as a father
4. The windows of 20 some years as a grandfather
5. The window of 30 yrs of ministry

Just looking out of these windows can be overwhelming and has been.  But it should not be…there has been tremendous and positiveness and blessing.  God is helping me to know that He is doing all He can and I am seeking to do all I can as a christian.  Thank you for giving me an ear.

Love,

Your Dad

To say I miss my Dad is quite an understatement.  What is so profound is that in those very low moments of missing him God always brings a memory, image, or object that reminds me of how blessed I was to have a father that gave me so much.  Although there were many things that seem to clutter his life and get in the way of what God wanted for him there also were many things he learned from the clutter.

As I start a new year with new ventures and less clutter I am able to focus on God’s purpose in my life.  This letter calls for my focus on who I am and what my Dad has imparted to me. The words in his letter confirm the gift of encouragement, patience, compassion, and understanding that God has given to me to work with others.

The letter got rid of the clutter…

The Corners of Our Lives

As a young child I made a major decision regarding my spiritual foundation and how this would be the guiding force for my life. During those growing years, I learned all that I could base upon that decision.  I have vivid memories of eagerly attending the after school Bible classes, Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and Christian summer camps gaining new insights and positive experiences. This was a solid foundation as I began building my young life. With each activity there was always a connection one corner met another corner thus the major structure began to take its shape.

Corners are major players in the infrastructure of our lives. Corners are vital to the foundation. They are the angles where the sides meet, determinants if one has the monopoly or not, and hard work is often defined as the cornerstone of success. Corners are also a remote or hidden place.  A place where we often sweep the unwanted issues of our lives allowing them to linger in this space ignored and unattended.  After all who looks at the corners?

I learned my first “corner” lesson from my mother.  Like most children I had the chore of keeping my bedroom clean. When I was done I had to notify my mother and she would come to my room to inspect. As I was elated awaiting her arrival, I knew that she would be pleased because of the good job I had done.  This particular time she walked into the room, looked around, gave compliments and suddenly said, “It looks good but you are not done.”  Surprised, I responded, “But Mama I worked so hard what else is there to do?”  She firmly said, “You did not sweep very well, come over here so that I can show you…see that paper and dust in that corner? It’s been there for a while you’ve got to get that corner then you’re done.” Wow, I thought only my Mama would think of that.

As I often struggle in my spiritual life it’s what’s in the corners that is most difficult to clean up and give up. There are times when I dialogue with God and I assess my progress. I feel that I have given my all to him yet I am still trying to figure out the whys or why not.  During the most difficult times, those denial episodes I have found myself literally shouting, “Okay Lord, what else is there? I do not get this. I have let it go.”  It’s in those quiet moments when I hear that still small voice saying to me…”I want what’s in the corner…the stuff you’ve avoided, swept aside, and still holding onto”.   Emotionally, I begin to concede…it’s the corner stuff that’s most difficult to give up.  What’s in your corner?

The Butterfly Scarf

The Butterfly Scarf

As a young child I remember the numerous times that my mother would call to me as I was leaving for school during inclement weather, “Put that scarf on your head!”   Reluctantly, I’d put it on my head and once outdoors I was thankful for the reminder.   As I entered into my teen years I developed a fondness for scarves and different types of head wraps.  I remember my sister, Luretha teaching me how to do different African head wraps after she took a class. We sat for hours with different pieces of fabrics laughing as we got tangled up in the fabric from head to toe. From that moment on we spent months wearing scarves and fabric on our heads which matched our outfits.  The scarves and fabrics gave us a classy look which could not be duplicated, this belonged to us.

Once my mother taught us how to sew we took scarves and fabric to another level. Every single outfit had to have a matching scarf or head wrap. This was an accessory that just had to be included to complete the fashion. As with most fashion, the idea of scarves and head wraps seem to fade away for the moment. Suddenly, scarves became fashionable again when talk show host Oprah Winfrey introduced them to us by wearing them in a different way… draped over one shoulder attached with a beautiful brooch or some type of jewelry. How popular this had become… the return of the scarf which for many had never gone away.  The scarf on the shoulder was stylish.

The over one shoulder scarf was something that my mother also adored.  I would often stop at Mama’s house before going to church (church was behind our house) and would be delighted when she would say to me,” I was waiting for you to come so you could help me with this scarf, you always know how to make it look fancy.”  I’d smile and assist her with choosing the matching scarf and a piece of jewelry.  During our “scarf moments” we’d laughed, caught up on the previous week gossip, and walked to church together.  It was always a delight to hear Mama’s response to the compliments she got regarding her scarves…”You know I didn’t do this Miche helped me with this one, she’s the scarf lady.”   I’d smile and try to put the compliment back on her.

Since my mother’s home going, I’ve thought a lot about her scarves and handkerchiefs not understanding why they’ve meant so much to me. As the thoughts resurfaced this morning those “Scarf moments” came alive for me.  Wanting to capture my thoughts I began to write. So what does this mean? Is there something deeper here?  What is a scarf?  A scarf speaks of covering, protection, warmth, fashion, and cleanliness in some cultures. Descriptive of what my mother is to me.  Though she has transitioned and is with the Lord these meanings still speak in volumes to me daily.

A few weeks ago, as I was sorting through my scarves I found a piece of fabric remnant that I had purchased for my mother years ago.  It is red with lots of beautiful butterflies on it.  At that time I felt bad because I had never gotten around to surging the edges on it to complete the scarf.  As the thought of that piece of fabric returns to my mind today I realize it’s not about why I didn’t finish it…it’s about knowing that  I do have one of her scarves now and knowing that she would have loved the gift.  Another butterfly transformation…

The Butterfly Connection

In June 2005, I received my Masters degree in Marriage Family and Child Counseling. After graduation I had decided that I was done with my academic studies and would start searching for a job. One day I stopped by my mentor’s office with the intention of discussing my plans with her. After telling her my plans, she looked up at me with a big smile, sweetly and softly said, “Oh no, you’re not done you’ve have to keep going… you will become Dr. Cooper.”  I laughed and responded, “Yeah right, sounds good but Dr. Gena (my shortened name for her) a PhD program? Not for me.” After giving this much thought, talk, argument, and consideration, I agreed to pray about this and to keep her posted.  Shortly thereafter, God confirmed that this was his plan for me. Fearful and clueless I decided that I would further my studies in Clinical Psychology.  I began my search for the college that would be a good fit for me with the desired program. After attending three orientations, I selected a school and started the process.  I attended the school’s weekend orientation and gathered more information about the program.  A few weeks later, I was scheduled for an interview with the school.  My interview went well . A week later I was notified that I had been accepted into the Clinical Psychology program with an Emphasis in Depth Psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute. During this phone call I was told that I needed to contact the Financial Aid Department.  “Oh my gosh, I suddenly thought…financial aid?”  I suddenly realized that throughout this entire process, after attending three orientations, I had not looked into the cost of these programs.  What was I thinking?  Was I crazy? Had I lost it? I immediately started praying, crying, and rushed to call my mentor.  I gave her the details and told her how I had made this decision totally backwards and that I had no idea how this was going to happened.  I also informed her that I needed $1000 in less than a week. I knew that a lecture was coming. I knew she would ask me how I had overlooked the financial part.  Suddenly she began laughing and explained that she was not laughing at me. I’ll never forget her next words, “You weren’t suppose to know about the money first, if you had you would not have pursued the task. You are where you are supposed to be. God did not want you to focus on the money part just yet. He did not bring you to this place to stop…proceed forward and keep me posted.”  I continued to ask the whys and hows.  My mentor continued to encourage me politely got off the phone and asked me to keep her posted.  I sat there in my car for a while looking at my cell phone thinking that she was as crazy as I was.  Being overwhelmed by this all I felt I needed a church…a sanctuary to sit and talk with God.  I remembered that I had to take my grandson to Vacation Bible School and decided that I would sit in the sanctuary then and talk with God.

As I sat in the chapel at Friendship Baptist Church in Pasadena, California I began talking with God.  As the tears poured, I shared my fears, and lack of understanding.  I told God how inadequate I was, how this was a task that I felt that I could not do.  I was totally authentic with him standing clean before him. Suddenly, I felt his presence like I never felt before. God revealed to me that I was to trust him, try him, as he teaches me.  I was to start this journey knowing that I was to be His chosen untainted vessel. I fought to stay in a place like Moses did giving many reasons why I could not do this.  Finally, in my brokeness I yielded knowing that this was a calling from God, I wanted to be obedient.  I left the chapel a changed individual having experienced God on a new level.

Miracles took place like never before within the next few days.  A friend called me and told me she had the $1000 that I needed.  Another person whom I had only met one time during orientation called me to check on the status of my application.  I told her that I had gotten accepted and had applied for financial aid.  She told me that the purpose of her call was to open an account so that I could purchase my books…another $500.  She told me that she had shared my story with her husband about raising my grandson and starting a doctoral program.  She stated that they were Christians, her husband was impressed and wanted to do something to help. Were these my angels? God was definitely in the midst of all this.  I thanked her and accepted the gift.  She explained that she had already set this up and that all I needed to do was to call the bookstore and give them my address.  All I could do was to thank God!

About a month later, I began my doctoral program.  My first weekend at school I was still uncertain if I had chosen the right school.  I felt that I needed more answers…I just wasn’t sure.  During this entire process, I had talked and prayed with my mother on several occasions. She was elated for me and told me so often.  She encouraged me and expressed how happy she was for me.  What happened next blew me totally away…

It is a tradition at Pacifica Graduate Institute for the senior class to do a special ceremony to welcome in the new class. After the last class we were guided through a candlelit trail to the outdoors ceremony area.  During this ceremony we are welcomed, encouraged, given a special gift, assigned a mentor, and instructed to choose a card which would be the deciding name/image for our class/cohort for 3 ½  years.  A person from our class would select this card from a person of the senior class.  This was a beautiful ceremony. As I stood in the circle listening to the words of encouragement, hearing the night sounds and the music, experiencing the beauty of the stars I thought of my mother, anxiously waiting for morning to call and tell her all the details of this experience. I was also asking God for assurance that I had chosen the right school.  Suddenly the moment came when my classmate selected the card…I could not believe my eyes or my ears.  On the card was a picture of a beautiful butterfly! Our group was named  “The Butterflies”! The tears flowed…God affirmed!  Though she was physically in Houston, Texas at the time, my mother was there in that circle during this ceremony.  While I needed affirmation from God, he also knew that I wanted to know that my mother was affirming my decision as well.  Between the tears, choked up words and elation I was able to share this experience with my mother over the phone the next morning.  She assured me that no matter what would happen as far as her health was concerned she was supporting me and wanted me to continue on in the program.  I promised her that I would. August 2008, I completed my doctoral coursework and passed my comprehensive exams.

It’s been five years since this amazing experience.  My mother passed on July 4, 2009.  Years prior to her illness she fell in love with butterflies. She began to purchase whatever she could find that depicted butterflies. During those years I had no idea what butterflies actually meant to her. I continue to have “butterfly” experiences and memories that give meaning and connections with her.  Although she is no longer physically with me the butterfly connection continues….she is the heart behind me.

The Death of My Father

June 5, 2008 I lost my father to the insidious disease of prostate cancer.  We initially thought that he had battled this disease for almost two years.  A few days before his passing the doctors disclosed to us that he had the disease for about ten years.  During his last few days the cancer took a very aggressive stance.

His death was very devastating although he had been ill for a long period of time.  Here was a man whom had walked with me throughout my life.  Suddenly, I found myself in a place of emptiness, the abyss.  Since his departure from this life, not a day has gone by without thoughts of him.  I was in a place of complete remorse because I was unable to arrive in Detroit before he passed away.  The following night I was able to sit with my oldest sister and hear her account of those excruciating last moments.  As I listened to her graphic depictions, the tears poured profusely down my face.  I began to understand why it was not destined for me to be at my father’s beside during his final moments.  I needed to hold to the final memories that had been given to me during my visit with him the previous summer.  During my last visit with him, I was able to sit with him and I sang his favorite hymns reminiscing our early years and times together.

It has been three months since my father’s passing and much has been revealed to me.  I am beginning to understand the impact that my father has had on my life.  Andrews Samuels, posits that traditional facets of the father contributes to his wounds but not a lot has been written about the father’s desire to be loved Samuels (1993, p. 125). I am able to relate this to my father’s life and the position he held in our family. We are a family of eleven children.  I remember many days especially during my teenage years that my Dad would walk around the house with a very grumpy and mean demeanor.  Although he had a very loving relationship with my mother, he would often have conversations with her about how she put the children before him.  What was interesting for me is the fact that during these conversations he would not express how unloved he felt and that he needed soothing for his wounds.  When I think about the stereotypical father that society has created I can understand why my father felt he had to present this way.  Taking this a step further, if we are to bring into the open the father’s hidden political sanctioning of the cultural diversity of others, especially his children we will see his positive attitude to mobility, enfranchisement and emancipation for others (Samuels, p. 126).  Very little credit has been given to the father as an image of social and political change. As I reflect about my father as a minister he was know as an “agent of change”.  But as a father not much emphasis was placed on this idea.

According to Samuels, fathers may be tricksters in order to sublimate their infanticide impulses towards their children, especially their sons Samuels (1993, p. 127).  He further notes that the more the father becomes involved with his children the greater his hate for them will grow.  While I do not completely agree with this statement it is something that I can relate to my life with my father.  There were times that I could clearly see my father’s resistance towards my brothers as he interacted with them.  As they became older I could see him pulling away from this more.  I don’t quite have an explanation for this but at times it appeared as though he was competing with my mother for their love and attention. Perhaps there were times that he didn’t want them there.

While I had a very loving and nurturing father, there were many things that I did not understand about him.  In reading Samuels chapter on “Paternal Imagery” there were a few things that I could relate to regarding my father. He speaks about the father-daughter relationship and the damage that result from the exclusion of physicality.  I can remember how my father’s hugs suddenly became different, as I got older. Are my insecurities connected to this in some way?  I can only wonder.

Many questions about my father have begun to surface since his death.  It is difficult for me to think about the negative because he had such a positive influence over my life.  I have a healthy image of him even in his death.  I have been able to understand much better the things that he has imparted to me.  Last year I had a very compelling dream about him.  I did not understand it completely but as I shared it with my classmates and my professor I was given interpretations that proved to be most helpful.

I woke up one night after having the following dream:  My dad was standing on a beautiful sparkling, white floor with mop in hand.  He began to explain to me the how the floor had become so clean and white. Although I stood beside him and listened as he spoke, when I awoke I could not remember the words that he had spoken.  Throughout the following day the meaning of this dream was revealed to me.  The floor was symbolic of the foundation that he has laid for me, teaching and exposing me to working and helping in the lives of others.  The sparkling floor was symbolic of the end of his assignment; he has imparted to me all that’s needed for me to continue on.  The mop represented that there is still more to be done.  The baton has been placed in my hand, the job has not been completed, and I accept my task of continuing on in the work. A year prior to his transition, he prepared me for this time.  I am now celebrating his life, he is missed but he remains with me.  I will reflect on this as I finish my last courses and continue to move forward.  These are the memories, which help me to stay on the path.  Although I can’t make that phone call to him announcing my completion of coursework, I hear his voice in the lyrics of his favorite song, “It Is Well With My Soul”.

References

Samuels, Andrew (1993). The Political Psyche. New York, New York: Routledge.

The Butterfly Balloon

I left my home for a brief moment for a trip to the gas station as tomorrow is a work day for me.  Today has been a so-so day for me as I relaxed, chilled with my grandson, and had a quiet but fun day. I took time and stepped out of my normal routine into a sanative environment trying not to make sense of the many crazy situations going on in my life.  As I am driving to the gas station, thoughts are racing through my head concerning my week’s schedule, my current finances, and how I can avoid becoming weary in well-doing… As my emotions are ignited , I begin to have conversations with God telling him how I am simply tired of my struggles.  I fight hard against a brief bout with depression and having a melt-down.  I begin to remember scriptures, songs, phrases, and I remind myself that God will continue to carry Simeon and me.  I say aloud…”I have what I need for today.”  I  thank God for the last twenty-five dollars to put in the tank and the money to buy the needed loaf of  bread and cookie mix that I had promised  Simeon. 

There is a female seasoned citizen ahead of me in the line.  In a very choked up voice she asks the cashier about buying a balloon for a friend who turns ninety years old tomorrow who is in the hospital.  She asks for the cashier’s assistance expressing that she doesn’t know which one to choose and that she doesn’t want to pick one that’s too juvenile.  The cashier rudely responds and in a very indignant manner says, “I don’t know you just have to pick one and tell me then I’ll get it for you.”  The lady was very hurt by this as her demeanor became sullen as she headed for the balloon section. I couldn’t believe my ears or what I had just witnessed.  I paid for my merchandise and immediately went to assist the lady.  I was angry at the cashier…I left my cart at the register not caring.  I found the lady and I offered to help her with making her balloon selection.  She was elated.  I asked her about her friend, enjoyed her conversation, and smiled as she lit up like a christmas tree as she spoke of her friend.  She was sad because her friend would be in the hospital on her birthday due to knee surgery.  As we looked up to choose a balloon…there it was the most beautiful butterfly balloon with a smiley face!  I suggested the butterfly balloon and spoke of transformation.  I told her how precious it was that she and her friend had had so many years together.  She thanked me for my kind words, agreed with the transformation idea, and decided on the butterfly balloon.

As I was leaving the store, I remembered that I had left my cart at the counter and I went to put it in its proper place only to discover that it was gone.  As I thanked the cashier for putting it back I realized that my feelings of anger towards her had been transformed.  I winked towards heaven and thanked my mother for this experience.  Once again God had used her to help me realize..”It’s not about me…it’s about what He wants to do through me!” She is ever-present with me often through the butterfly.

It has been rightly said that a mother is not a person to lean on, but a person to make leaning unnecessary… You gave me more than what I needed!

The Making Of A Butterfly

As a child she played in the corn field with dolls made of corn cobs and husks, she loved hop scotch and jump rope.  As a teenager ,which was short-lived; she loved dancing, kissing boys, and she was a fighter ;no one to be played with.  A young bride at sixteen she loved her man; kissed him as he joined the United States Navy and went over seas.  Thus began the silk lining around her. She lived life loving people and giving of her self.  I smile as I remember her stories of country living, boyfriends, and toughness.  Life was not a crystal stair yet she lived it the way she knew how…determined. At eleven she made a spiritual commitment that would be the foundation for years to come.  Another silk layer spun around her. She dreamed of a white house with a white picket fence and ten children.  Goal accomplished plus one… a different silk lining around her.  Healthy children who loved, adored, and honored her… silk layers forevermore.  Fevers, childhood illnesses, school issues, defiance, preparing meals, washing clothes, ironing, sleepless nights… silk layers continue to sustain her.  She loved him; she loved them no questions to be asked. Loving like no other she was the outstanding mother.  Tragedy entered into her life…silk spurned ever so tightly.  She enters her cocoon although she’s quite strong and mighty.  Protection from harsh and tragic pain she still seeks all that she’s able to gain.  Her man transitions before her.  Sticky silk inside the cocoon is now laid.  Fall, winter, spring to her cocoon she clings. Thick and glue-like silk she hardens for what’s to come.  In summer she emerges flying to the beat of the drum. Beautiful colors from the ugliest cocoon.  Butterfly, butterfly though you’ve flown home with us your love still roams…

A Word Aptly Spoken

A Word Aptly Spoken

Words are used everyday to communicate.  Sometimes the words that we chose clearly communicate our thoughts.  Sometimes words confuse the listener and will take on a different meaning just by the tone in which they are spoken.   Have you ever said something and you knew exactly what you meant however the other person or persons did not even come close to understanding the meaning of your words?  Explore with me for a moment…  As a parent there are times that we become very disappointed in the behaviors of our children, our verbal responses are often impulsive and totally unrealistic.  We will say such things as…”Get out of my face; I can’t deal with you right now!”  When what we actually mean is… “I’m very upset and it’s best for me to calm down right now so let’s separate for a moment!”  To a person who’s driving poorly we may yell…”You idiot…I should ram your car!”  About a situation on our job that upsets us we may say…”Ugh…I hate this why am I even here?”  Do we actually mean these things? Do we mean them in this way?  Do we really give thought to what we say and how we say it in the moments of frustration?

My intention here is not to suggest that everything we say must always be sugary and sweet. Anger and frustration are very healthy emotions.  Suppressing these frustrations can be more deadly than to express them.  How you express your frustrations, anger and the words you choose is the key here.  Once you use demeaning words which denigrate a person’s character they cannot be taken back.  An apology no matter how sweet or lengthy often becomes futile.  Although you know what you meant your words often take precedence in defining your meaning.

Proverbs 25: 11 states…”A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.”  How awesome is that!  Can you imagine how good you’d feel after being told by someone who witnessed your anger or frustration that your words were aptly spoken? Let’s explore the words aptly spoken for a moment. You may be thinking …”Well, when I’m frustrated or angry I am not thinking about aptly saying anything”… I feel ya on that one. However, to aptly speak simply means to speak usually intelligent, appropriate, and suited to the purpose or occasion.  Think before you speak is the goal here.  Is it appropriate to say that you hate something when you know you really don’t?  Or to call someone an idiot when you know nothing about them? Is it wise to yell at your child to get out of your face knowing that you are crushing her/his self-esteem?

Proverbs 15: 23 states, “A man finds joy in giving an apt reply—and how good is a timely word!”  It’s not about us…it’s about what God wants to do through us…