When You Began To Talk

And to Think... I Was Glad When You Began To Talk

We had been waiting for several years for a baby when the Lord gave us our delightful older son.  As with most first children, all of his “firsts” are dutifully recorded in his baby book, that ancient predecessor of home movies and video recorders.  Unfortunately, with second children, not so much, and, by the time the third or fourth children come along, it is the rare mom who makes sure their names are even on the Christmas stockings.

I was thrilled when our Scott slept all night, sat alone, climbed and walked – in that order, and, of course, talked.  His brilliance amazed me.  As he held a kitten, Scott said, “Mom, come listen.  His motor is running.”  Or, as we walked outside and saw the breathtaking beauty of the clouds against the deep blue of dusk, Scott commented, excitedly, “Look, the sky is cracking.”  What precious gems of brilliance came from his little mouth!

Then, there was the day when he was about three years old, and we had to go inside at the bank.  The teller helped us with our business and offered the boys a lollipop.  As Scott reached into the jar, I said, “Now, what do we say?”  Of course, I expected the perfunctory response of thank you.  Instead, my precious little wordsmith smiled and said, “You’re despicable.” 

Shocked, I asked what he had said, thinking, surely, I had misheard him, but knowing I couldn’t possibly have misunderstood that badly.  Again, and still smiling with his angelic smile, he responded, “You’re despicable.”  Praying for the immediate rapture of the church and wishing I were having a root canal, I made him say he was sorry, drug him and the baby to the car, launched into a normal lecture, and made immediate plans to change banks.

Later, at home, after I had calmed down, I realized he was only repeating the conversation he had often heard between Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, with absolutely no comprehension of the meaning of what he was saying or any understanding of the gaffe in behavior he had just committed.  We came to an agreement of not using words that Daddy and Mommy didn’t use, and I began to understand the subtlety and insidiousness of thoughtless words.  I could only think of a line from an old Andy Griffith show when Andy, looking at his son Opie, could only shake his head and say, “And to think, I was glad when you could talk.”

I wonder how many times words have dropped lightly from my tongue only to land heavily on the heart of my Heavenly Father.  I can only imagine Him in heaven, as He shakes His head and says, “Gerry, Gerry, Gerry.  And to think, I was glad when you started talking.”  Proverbs 18:21 teaches that the power of life and death are in the tongue.  Lord, set bars and guards on my tongue; let every word be pleasing to You.

© 2011 Gerry Sisk

(08/31/11)