My inside voice

I wasn't feeling so well that morning. Not really sick, but not up to par. Not at full strength. But I still needed to control the room full of third graders and hopefully to teach them something.

I may have flicked the lights - in those days a common trick to get attention. At any rate, I began in barely more than a whisper to explain to my students that I needed their help in being extra attentive because I wasn't able to speak very loudly.

To my delight, it worked. How cool! They got serious and even lowered their tones to match mine. It worked so well, in fact, that I decided I should remember this tactic.

Last night I read a blog post* by Jon Acuff, entitled "When God goes quiet" at Stuff Christians Like. His point was that even when He is quiet, God is still there. I'm glad that I have seen the truth of that in my own life and it's good to be reminded of it.

The article reminded me of that classroom incident and I realized there are other lessons as well. Jon Acuff's lesson was for me the child, the student, the learner, the follower. But what about the lesson for me the teacher, the mentor, the friend, the writer, the influencer? In the classroom that morning, I learned that sometimes, rarely, at least once in a great while, silence can speak louder than noise - and maybe not so rarely. That being the case, could my soft voice (or my silence) be as effective (or maybe even more effective) than my loud voice? Could my whisper cut through the noise better than a strong, bold statement?

I am to be a truth-teller, but maybe that doesn't always have to be with bold, strong statements. Maybe there should be more whispers of affirmation and encouragement from these lips. Certainly I could be using a soft voice more than I do - a voice that is kind and gentle rather than strong and persuasive. I'm not so confident in my ability to be strong and persuasive anyway.

So how about I practice using my inside voice? Maybe, just maybe, it will cut through the noise and maybe even bring a better kind of control to a loud situation. And quite possibly it will be more able to speak peace to ears that are aching from the surrounding din.

Prayer

"While I certainly agree that God can powerfully use our prayers to accomplish various things, sometimes an almost magical view of prayer seems to be suggested, as if it were some kind of genie’s lamp one can rub and produce result, if we only have enough faith." - Ben Witherington

Judging the judgers

Casey Anthony was acquitted yesterday. By a jury, that is. But not by the masses. Nope. By them, she was judged, convicted AND sentenced to burn in hell. She is not the only one judged by the populous. The jury has also been deemed to be incompetent or corrupted - or something. Of course, some people also blame the prosecution for not doing their job. And what of the media who has chosen to give this trial so much air time? It seems that there is much blame to be thrown around.

I quickly admit that I haven't been following the details of the trial and that I certainly don't know enough about it to judge her or anyone else. However, I HAVE been in a courtroom enough times to know that the view from inside is vastly different than the one outside. I have sat on the jury enough times to know how tough it can be to remain objective. How agonizing to feel one way in your gut, but to not have confirmation by the evidence. To stay true to the law when it comes to reasonable doubt. What a heavy robe is worn by a juror!

I am also well aware that the jury has not heard the same things that we have heard. At least we can only hope that they have not heard all of the media hype. There's a reason why juries are sequestered; otherwise none of us could ever hope for a fair trial.

I found myself reacting to the reactions - to the instant anger, the sadness, the condemnation that was flying across the pages of the internet. How quickly we judge - with the confidence that our opinion, our information, our point-of-view is the correct one. That of course I know what I'm talking about and of course those people who decided differently are stupid or evil or inferior in some way.

In my desire to jump in and react to the reactions and the reactors, part of me wanted to say "Chill out a bit; is it possible that you don't have every detail at your disposal?" But another part was reacting angrily to the anger. I felt my own blood pressure rise a bit.

It was not until after I had distracted myself from the subject and was not so obsessed with it, that I realized that I was angry with the anger of the people who were judging the jury and in so doing I was judging THEM. Yep, I was judging the judgers.

Weird. But that's the way it works, isn't it? My idea is the right one, of course. My information is more correct than anyone else's; therefore my viewpoint is the wisest and best informed. Oh, yah, by the way, I'm not just talking about a court case anymore. I'm talking about life. I/we do it all the time. Why must I always be so quick to try to find a place to pin the blame? I've asked myself that question so many times. Am I not getting any better? Maybe I get better and then have relapses.

Is there an antidote? The only one I think of is to remember what it feels like to be falsely accused and wrongly judged. I know all too well what that feels like, too. So... can I give others the benefit of the doubt that I would like extended to me if I were the one in that chair - the defendant chair or a seat on the jury? Can I be grace-filled and compassionate to my friend who flies off the handle in judging someone else? Hmmm...