Now, my tongue, which longs for the sugar and says it is satisfies, ruins the body, where the sweet turns to sour and I am left anything but satisfied. If I could only tame that tongue.
And then I read the words of one wiser than I - the own half-brother of our Savior. The one who instructs us to be slow to anger and I am reminded of truth - all truth which belongs to God. Anger, which manifests itself through the tongue, promising these harsh words will satisfy a need, a desire.
And there goes that lying tongue again. As the anger in which I so readily indulge does nothing but sour the spirit.
If I could only tame that tongue.
Could 30 days deprived of anger likewise turn my soul against the bitterness of wrath? If only it were so easy.
882. Nursing the baby, schooling the girl, and watching the little boy run in the grass - a morning well-spent
883. The coolness of fall
884. Refreshing rain
885. The weathered wood promising meals in the sun and lessons in the breeze
886. Sesame Street Band-Aids
887. Her tiny notebook filling with drawings - her favorite things recorded (butterfly, blocks, rain)
Photos of Our Morning:
(I love this look - "Are you seeing what he gave me, Momma?!")