The Voice of Truth

“Tell yourself the truth, Brooke.” 

Moms say a lot of things.  They take lots of moments to infuse guidance into their growing kids.  I was with my friend on the bus when she told her two year old, “Oh Honey, we don’t lick the bus.”  At some point, we all had to learn not to lick the hand railings on the public bus.  These messages join the mix of voices inside, instructing long after we’ve flown the nest.  I’m sure my mom taught me to say thank you, to wash my hands, and stuff like that.    I know she told me how long to cook corn on the cob, but I still have to call and ask her every time.  I don’t distinctly remember her giving me these instructions.  What I remember is how she told me to tell myself the truth.

As a child, this phrase came up when I’d come home from school and say, “No one likes me.”  In my teen years, I’d say, “I’m too fat.”  My brother Brent would pick me up, sling me over his shoulder and say, “Not yet!” and my mom would say, “Tell yourself the truth.”  I’d punch Brent’s back until my face turned red upside down and laugh, “Okay!  Okay!  I’m not fat! ”

I’m glad this is the Mom-phrase that stuck.  In my journey with God, He’s used these words to remind me of His truth from the Bible.  Lately, I’ve been working on exercising consistently.  I often put on workout clothes intending to jog on our treadmill while my baby naps.  Then, the day goes by one thing at a time and it’s 9pm, I’m falling asleep on the couch watching The Voice, still wearing those workout clothes.  Last night, 9pm rolled around and I was in my usual spot, usual outfit.  I thought, “Bleh.  I guess today’s exercise plan is shot.”  Then, my mind got all rebellious (in a good way) and the Holy Spirit hit me with some truth:  “Get up; follow through.  God is working in me and I can do this.”  So, I did it.  Praise God!

I’m not sure how my mom came up with her phrase, whether it was intentional or just a natural response to a daughter who often cried about things that weren’t true.  Did she know how God would empower me throughout my life? 

Now I’m a mom.  My little boy is nine months old.  I have an opportunity to choose words of blessing or curse.  Curse seems like a strong word in this context, but our words are powerful.  Just think of a teasing nickname someone used for you once.  I bet it stuck and I bet it has impacted the way you think about yourself.

So, last week, my son was jumping in this bouncer seat that hangs from a doorway.  I had him hanging from the closet while I was putting laundry away.  He was bouncing with all his might, ricocheting off the doorframe and squealing with glee.  I laughed and said, “Luke!  You are crazy!!!”  Right away, there was that Holy Spirit check in my heart:  “What’s God’s truth about Luke right now?”  I asked God for His word for Luke and God said, “Joy.”

“Luke, you are so full of joy!”

It seems harmless to call my son crazy in this silly context.  Of course I don’t mean literally crazy, but it’s a curse of sorts.  God’s word “joy” is His blessing, His truth for Luke.  I’d rather Luke have that in his head as he grows up.

Because of all these truth revelations I’m having, I was feeling bold and asked God if anyone in my daily activities needed to know a piece of truth. Yesterday, Luke and I visited my great aunt at her assisted living apartment.  Auntie loves Luke and always tells him, “You are soooo precious!”   I was able to tell her, “God sees you just like you see Luke.  You are sooooo precious, Auntie!”  She said, “No, I’m not.  I’m just an old lady.”  So, we’ll have to keep going back to remind her.

This is different than giving compliments.  Speaking God’s truth, especially in cases where it does not feel true, shakes up the spiritual battle going on in the world.  Someone needs to hear that they are forgiven and God has removed their sin from them as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12).  Someone needs to hear that God is fighting for them (Exodus 14:14).  Someone needs to hear that God is a healer (Exodus 15:26).  It’s okay if it’s hard to believe now.  My mom must have encouraged me towards the truth a million and one times, which is why it stuck so well.  Like my Auntie, we may need more convincing.  But let’s let the voice in our head be the voice of truth.  Let’s let the words that come out of our mouths be something that will bless the hearer and help them know God’s love.

-----------

Want more?  Here is a flashback to a poem I posted here four years ago about this same topic:

http://storiesfromasojourner.blogspot.com/search?q=Tell+Yourself+the+Truth

Out of the Way

This morning, Luke and I went to visit my prayer partner in Granger.  It’s about thirty miles away; a town you wouldn’t notice on the highway unless you knew one of the approximately 3,500 people who live there.  As I drove down the highway, with fields on both sides and a clear view of Mount Adams, I thought about how Granger is really out of the way.  That is, my friend is my only reason for heading that direction and going so far.

I used to drive to Granger five days a week.  When Jeff and I got engaged, I googled “schools near Yakima”, and ended up being hired at Granger’s only elementary school.  Even though there were schools with jobs in my neighborhood, I felt God’s peace about Granger.  It turned out to be one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.  When people asked where I worked, they would almost always comment, “Why do you work all the way down there?”  It’s out of the way.  Inconvenient.  More time and effort are required to get there, and it’s a population of kids who need extra care.  I didn’t know any Spanish and the majority of my class was Hispanic.  It took some work and creativity to teach well.

Going out of the way isn’t always a bad thing though.  When God takes me past what’s convenient for me, it forces me to focus on Him and others.  That’s always a good thing.

As I drove today, I thought about how, if I’d never worked in Granger, it would just be an exit sign on a highway I’d rarely use.  The people living there would be lumped into a category in my head like “lower valley people” or something generic like that.  Because God took me out of the way, the labels and ambiguity have been replaced with specific people and stories.  It’s not just an exit with a gas station, it’s Granger.  Not just Granger, but a school called Roosevelt Elementary.  Not just Roosevelt Elementary, but the kids who learn there – Juan, Florence, Yesica, Francisco, Estrella.  Kids with stories, families, ups and downs.  I only taught there for a year and a half, but Granger is a part of my story now.  I can never pass that exit or read about it in the newspaper without paying close attention. 

Sometimes, going out of the way is a distance thing, like my drive to work.  Sometimes, it’s a social going out of the way, like choosing to chat with my neighbor and listen as long as needed instead of making some excuse to go back inside.  I know a family who went out of their way to adopt a child, and it turned into taking three siblings home.  It sounds kind of inconvenient to me, especially since the couple already had three kids.  Those kids are no longer unknown, but are now daughters and son.  These situations, big and small, require trusting that God will take care of everything, no matter how stretching or scary it feels.

I don’t know what the next out of the way thing will be.  I’m actually trying to look for something small.  Maybe I can get off the cozy couch and go out of the way to rub my hubs’ feet tonight.  Maybe I can put somebody else’s grocery cart away for them.  The important thing is, God knows all of these people and places and He is carrying out His good plans everywhere.  I want to be a part of that.  Even if it means going out of my way.