When this man I've never met before came into my store and this was the first thing he said to me, all I could do was give him the blank stare, because internally I was fighting.
He doesn't know who I am.
He doesn't know that I was built for stuff like this. I come from a family of verbal jousters, so it's nothing to verbally castrate him. As several insults gathered in my mouth like bullets ready to be shot, I heard, " That's my son."
Clear as day.
And to be honest, I instantly got mad.
Yea, but I'm your daughter and her just came at me extra crazy!!!!!!!!!
"That's my son."
....... I've been telling God that I wanted to hear Him more clearly, but this is not the time to start.
Instead of pulling out my verbal machete, I remained quiet. I just walked off and grabbed one of my co-workers (who ended up having to ask me questions about how to help him and I said Google it because I didn't know too much) and let him help him.
I was mad God didn't let me go off, but He kept bringing my prayers back to me.
Help me to love the way You love.
Help me to be wiser with my words...
I know that my words have power. The Bible says that life and death are in the power of the tongue and from time to time, I've been known to go for the jugular in an argument. The more my relationship grew with God though, the more I wanted to change. I wanted to learn how to be the bigger person. I didn't want to be known as a harsh, mean, or overly critical person.
And I still don't...
So no, I didn't pop off.
I didn't get to take his balls as an souvenir (which I really wanted for my collection).
But I did have something confirmed for me:
God is really listening.
And honestly, with the week I've had, that's one of the best lessons I could have been retaught.