Psalm 139:1 – 4 (NIV)

“O LORD, you have searched me and You know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue You know it completely, O LORD.”

Have you ever been invisible?  You know the feeling- you’re standing at the party alone and everyone is making small talk except you. You’re at the meeting and no one asks for your input or even addresses the fact that yes, you are indeed a consumer of oxygen.  Invisible.

In the building where I work, there are two people from Somalia who faithfully clean our restrooms and empty our trash cans. The woman silently mops floors and scrubs toilets. She is careful not to make eye contact and seems almost startled when I interrupt her chores with a “Good Morning.” I sometimes wonder which one of us is invisible. My thoughts trail off into the distance. Maybe she appears startled because no one greets her- maybe she has become invisible in her own mind’s eye. Or perhaps I am invisible to her- my life so incomprehensible to her that she is unable to see me- really see me.

The man comes each day- grinning. He empties our trash cans. We exchange our hellos, I say thank you, he says “welcome.” His eyes are smiling and when I return from missing work for a few days, he asks: “Vacation?”

Lately, our conversations are dotted with more syllables:

“It’s beautiful out today. Did you have a good weekend?”

“Yes, maybe rain later.”

He picks up my trash can and dumps it into his receptacle and quietly disappears. One evening as I drive home- I begin to wonder what his name is. He doesn’t know my name and I don’t know his. I make a mental note to ask him tomorrow.

But tomorrow comes and goes and I don’t ask the question. I say ‘hello, thank you, enjoy your day.’ He replies with a ‘welcome, you too, bye.’

Today is different. He faithfully comes around the corner to my work station and appears almost joyful. I greet him and he returns the pleasantry.

Then he looks at me- right into my eyes- and asks the question:

“What is your name?”

I stammer my reply: “Pam.”

I volley the question back- “What is your name?”

He answers but I cannot make out what he is saying. My bewilderment must have registered on my face. He says, “Look here.” He gets out his name badge and points to his name: “Adan.” He grins up at me and asks , “You?”  I realize with a grin that he can’t decipher my name either.  I repeat, “Pam. It’s a very short name. Just three letters.” He smiles.
Something inside me wells up and I stretch out my hand to offer a handshake. He nods his head to say no and points to his gloved hand. He doesn’t want me to touch the hand that has also touched our trash. My hand hangs in mid-air, waiting for his response. He smiles and touches my arm. “Pam.”  “Adan.”

As I drive home that evening- I marvel at the power of human connection. To see someone- really see someone- you must know their name. My thoughts turn to our Creator- He sees me. He sees you. We are never invisible to Him. In the darkest parts of our hearts, He is there.  In the joyful, light-filled spaces, He is there.

Jesus, You always see me- even when I am unable to see myself. You know me- all of me- but never turn away from what you find in my heart. Help me to see others, nudge me so that I do not overlook the souls around me. Remind me that no one is invisible.  Amen.

Proverbs 18:21

“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.”

Do you have a household chore that you absolutely detest?  I’m talking you’d rather watch paint dry than complete this particular job. For me, it’s unloading the dishwasher. Actually, for everyone residing in this household- unloading the dishwasher seems to win this dubious prize. Most mornings begin with this chore.  One Saturday morning began with such  promise. Pancakes with blueberries, almond milk, and an incredibly blue sky outside our kitchen window. I opened the dishwasher and pulled out the top rack. Does anyone else have coffee mugs that seem to mate during the rinse cycle? Where on earth we collected all these dispensers of caffeine I will never know. I reached up high to put a travel mug away and in slow motion it bounced off the shelf, onto the counter, and clumsily bumped into my Matcha tea bowl. (This tea bowl will be discussed in future blog posts). The glass Matcha bowl fell to the floor and shattered. It was an impressive sound and pieces large and small rippled out from the vicinity of the dishwasher.

My husband is an engineer, so when objects shatter, he is all over it. With shop vac in hand, he devises a highly systematic way of cleaning up broken glass. As I moved our kitchen chairs out from under the table, it struck me that our words are a lot like these pieces of glass. Words can spill forth from our mouths, unintentionally bumping into the people around us.  If only we could hold the syllables in for just a few more minutes, perhaps they would evaporate before having ever been launched at those we love.

I noticed that while my Matcha bowl shattered within inches of our dishwasher, there were tiny shards of glass several feet away near our basement door. Our words- both good and bad- are not static. They ripple out- leaving traces behind, in front of, and next to those people in our path.  We’ve all done it- uttered a phrase that we immediately wish we could take back. Chances are you have also been on the receiving end of someone’s verbal grenades. And then, there are those people who speak a word of truth into our lives in such a gracious, loving manner that we often pull their words up from our memory banks.  We love to just rest in the warmth of those words, to savor their encouragement and the love they bring.

So how do we become people who utter ripples of hope, rather than waterfalls of shame and regret?  I am trying out the 3 P’s:

1. PAUSE: Activate that internal Pause Button. Count to 60- or longer if necessary- before speaking. This is hard. Go ahead- try it. It gets easier with time. Try singing a refrain from your favorite song inside your head. It also helps while pausing, to look at the person you are about to offer words to. I mean really look at them. Ponder what you think you see in their eyes. Is it Pain? Rejection? Disappointment? Anger? Fear?  Gazing at the person, rather than merely glancing at them can guide your speech.
2. PRAY: You will need to surrender control of your mouth to The Holy Spirit. Do not utter a syllable until you feel Him directing your words. I often find this happens in the most amazing way. I offer my words to someone and think to myself, “Who said that? Where did that come from?”  They certainly aren’t words I am capable of crafting on my own.
3. PLANT: Use your words to plant seeds. Seeds of Hope, Encouragement, Truth, Comfort. Remind yourself that you are not responsible for the harvest- merely the planting.

The next morning my husband came upstairs to give me a kiss goodbye as he headed off to work. He warned me to be careful. When he picked his books up from the kitchen table, he found several tiny remnants of glass hiding between one title and the next. Words- just like shattered glass- can hide dormant for years. So, let’s bring our words out into the Light- and expose them for both their goodness and their ability to wound others. In the Light, we can pause, pray, and plant.

Father God,

Help me remember to “watch my mouth.” Teach me that a soft answer turns away wrath and can bind a wound, mend a heart, and lighten a soul.

Amen.