Burned Corn

Burned Corn

Currently, I am teaching a series on the Proverbs 31 Woman.  As a part of my study prior to teaching, I always read the entire book several times, trying to understand the context of the passage before sharing with others.  The book of Proverbs is a wonderful book about wisdom which God describes through an allegory, likening wisdom to a godly woman.  He also teaches much about the relationships of men and women, specifically in marriage. 

Since I have had a tiny problem with my tongue, since birth, I do believe, I have always been convicted by the verses concerning women with uncontrolled tongues.  A couple in particular have always resonated pretty strongly with me.

Proverbs 27:15 says that the continual dropping of the raindrops on a very rainy day and a nagging woman are alike, while Proverbs 19:13 says that the nagging of a wife is like a dripping faucet.  We have probably all been awakened by rain hitting the house, and most of us have heard the irritating drip of a faucet not completely turned off.  Though I have teased my husband that his laid-back, procrastination has trained me in the fine art of nagging, I have learned over the years to try to control my natural desire to effect change by the power of the spoken word.  I am not sure why we, as women, are arrogant enough to believe that our husbands thinking processes must be changed to conform to ours.  If our precious husbands are not listening to the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit as their spiritual conscience, what in the world makes us believe that they are going to listen to us?  Nonetheless, for whatever reason, we believe that one of our purposes on earth is to be God’s little helper in assisting our husband with right thinking.   

Last week, the Lord reminded me of how much He still has to teach me about the value of guarding my tongue.  I had begun dinner just before my husband got home from work.  In the meantime, a message had come in which needed an immediate response.  When Rick got home, I asked if he would mind watching the pans on the stove just long enough for me to respond to the business question.  He assured me that he could watch the tilapia cooking, the broccoli I had been stir-frying, and the corn that was steaming.  I slipped away to return the call.  Suddenly, I smelled something burning.  I quickly wrapped up the call and hurried back into the kitchen, asking, “Honey, what do I smell burning?”  He responded, “I don’t know.  The fish is fine.”  As I quickly took lids off of the other pans, I realized that the pan over which the corn had been steaming was completely dry and burning. 

Now, my dilemma:  I was teaching on the purity of the Proverbs 31 woman the very next morning.  I had been convicted about my tendency to nag – trying to motivate someone else to action through persistent verbal admonishment.  I knew God could not use unkind words from my lips and I really wanted to live through the teaching of the next day’s lesson, rather than finding myself suddenly whisked to heaven to give a personal account to God as to why I was teaching something I didn’t live.  Yet, sort of like a verbal virus, I found myself saying, in soft tones, as though that made it something other than nagging, “Rick, did you not smell that something was burning?”  “Yes,” he replied, “but I knew the fish was fine.”  Again, softly, of course, “But, Rick, there were three pans on the stove, not just the one with the fish.” 

“Well,” he said, “I just checked the fish.” 

Then came that awful moment when, almost like an out of body experience, I heard my mouth say one more thing, very softly this time, “Honey, that burned corn cost $2.27.”

Without batting a lash, my husband looked up at me and said, “I’ll give you $3 to stop talking about it.”

As I broke out into laughter, I realized it was worth more to him for me to stop the dripping faucet of comments than I had paid for the corn in the first place.

As I asked Rick to forgive my verbal drips and thanked him for his willingness to even try to help, I was reminded of God’s grace in my own life, as He never nags but, instead, gently and with a still, small voice encourages, exhorts, instructs, and forgives me for my own failures.  How often do our unguarded tongues actually cost us more that whatever it is about which we are upset?  Now, whenever I am tempted to say one more thing about it, I hear my husband saying, “I’ll give you $3 to stop talking about it.”

How much would it cost to get you to stop talking about whatever it is for which you are holding someone accountable?  Just remember, God paid the cost of the blood of His only Son in order to purchase the great gift of forgiveness. 

And you be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you.  (Ephesians 4:32)

© 2010 Gerry Sisk

(09/22/10)