I love coffee dates.
I love people and the atmosphere and deep conversations.
I love sitting down with a steaming cup of Joe, listening, and being heard.
I love knowing what’s going on in people’s lives
and sharing what’s going on in my own.
There is intimacy with it.
There is joy to be found in sharing your heart.
There is trust to be built in discussing life.
As much as I love it,
I’ve recently been alarmed with the amount of gossip that is in my daily life.
There’s a silent understanding in our culture today that it’s okay to do it…
That “everyone does it.”
Living in a Christian community,
I often hear gossip blanketed with a “Prayer request”
or “I’m just worried about her”
Or “Can you believe this?”
Or “did you hear what happened?”
Or started with “Swear you won’t tell anyone?”
Information is power.
It’s a conversation starter.
It bonds people.
Gossip happens on a broader spectrum like,
Facebook status’s about how Miley is crazy…
or discussing how much Obama sucks.
Things are blasted in the media so naturally we think it’s okay to talk about…
But is it?
Gossip happens in a more personal level too,
Like venting about the drama between you and your best friend…
or someone’s parenting skills or bad haircut or messy house…
or how he was late to work… or that she sucks for this or that.
I find myself coming home every single night and discussing my day in it’s entirety to my roommate.
I fill her in on everything that happened… good or bad.
I drop names and drama as if it’s just okay to do so.
I convince myself that it’s cool because she’s close to me…
that it’s okay for her to know everything…
Yes, it is good to have someone who knows me inside and out,
but when it comes to unfiltered slanderous talk that isn’t necessary to be discussed…
It’s worthless chatter.
It’s so addicting, though.
It’s alarming to me that I’ll let it leak off my lips…
but as soon as I’m talked about…
I want to curl in a ball and victimize myself
and then ultimately lash out and want to hurt someone.
Why do I think it’s okay to talk about others yet not expect to be talked about in return?
Oh how deceitful my heart is.
It’s sick but gossip covers up my own insecurities.
It’s like if I speak of other peoples issues,
I don’t have to talk about my own.
What it truly boils down to is that I don’t see others the way He does.
He loves me just as much as he does Miley and Obama
and even freaking Osama Bin Laden…
and Ellen DeGeneres…
and mass murderers…
and sex addicts…
and my ex who broke my heart…
and my best friend who walked away.
If I truly saw people like He did,
I think I’d shut up and love deeper.
I’d use my mouth for praising Him and speaking life.
It’s funny that I claim to give him my heart
but I cease to give him my tongue.
Here it is, Father.
Paralyze it if you have to.
Tame my tongue…
That I may speak life into the hurting
and build people up instead of tearing them down.
That my life will be an example of your love
and not my own fleshly judgments.
Cheers to awkward silences if I have nothing good to say.