Words.

That night I couldn’t sleep. My mind and body were dead tired, but something in my spirit was stirring, and gave me no rest. A serpent was crawling in my head, tossing and turning, and a fire of anguish burning within me.

I knew God was trying to get to me, and until I lay things straight, He would give me no rest. Such is His love. And how thankful I am for it.

Words. What do they do and why do we use them the way we do.

Being in the hospital and watching doctors break news of an illness to patients, doesn’t change the fact that you’re a third party, watching. Only an experience first-hand makes things real. Since we received the news, something in the atmosphere changed. It was as if everyone’s senses had been heightened, and for a few days, even I was moody, irritable, volatile, saying things which I never meant to hurt anyone with, using a tone I never intended to.

People would go into the room merry and laughing, then emerge sober, before a souring of the face and a trickle of tears. There was an acute awareness of what to say and what not to, and as I observed quietly, I saw that often, all it took was a gentle, smiling word to turn the atmosphere into a jovial, bubbly one again. Everyone tried their best.

We want to make her as happy as possible.

I am learning what it means to be quiet, to hold my tongue, to say only what is necessary, to the people around me who may be hurting without showing it, thrown into a storm while maintaining a picture of calm. Only lately did I realise how many words we say in a day which can be superfluous, and add no real meaning at all. Some of them even cut, or snide, undermine others- even if they were meant to be harmless jokes. And sometimes, all it needs is one word, one word, to stir up anger, turn away wrath or bring merry laughter.

So I am learning to enjoy the quietude, the early mornings sitting next to her, watching her eat breakfast, watching chinese imperial television dramas which all end in th same way- someone falls in love, lots of people get killed- and enjoying it. Sometimes I read a bit of mandarin scripture, and answer questions she asks me.

“You going to Nepal again next week? Right after your final exams-why? Aiyo, you doing so much good, so dangerous you know. Why’re you always going alone ah? Aiyoh. “

And then I laugh, and tell her that I’ve many friends there, that I’m only going for a short, short visit because the money has been raised for the orphanage, to learn a bit of pottery, and that I won’t be alone because God’ll be watching my back. And then I tell her no, I haven’t been good, because I’ve been taking a lot of things for granted, that God’s been teaching me how to love my family more deeply, how to spend more time with them. She laughs, asks another question, and lays down to rest, asking me to pray so the headache and aching would go away.

I am learning to love in a different way, a way which I am less acquainted with. Not merely using words, but also in spending more quality time, more action, in getting used to the adjustments, in simply being there not out of obligation but out of delight. Learning to love not using words too.

Sometimes it hurts having to watch someone else you love hurt, so I measure what I need to say-a generous dose of gentleness and reassurance- and tell her I’ve asked God to send angels to sit by her, take away the headache and watch over her as she sleeps, and leave it into His hands as I leave the room so my own tears don’t arrive.

Once in a while I like to peek in just to watch her sleep- and I resist picking the frown off the point between her brows, (there is such a great desire for me to take a toothpick to pick out that knotted frown like bad stitches) wondering why it is so many old people sleep like that. With a frown. Because she’s such a strong, jovial woman.

I am learning. There’s only so much time we have to live with the people we love, so many words we can say. Words, which can bring healing, life and love, or spite, coldness and cruelty. We have a tongue, called the “fire of the body”, which we can use to set things ablaze or choose, in love, to put a muzzle over it. Put a muzzle over it and resist telling someone else what to do because it makes things easier for you, but harder for the other. Shut it, swallow one’s pride, just for a moment, in order to preserve the harmony, even if you have to suffer- because that is love. A muzzle is uncomfortable, but since when was true love one of convenience?

We can love by talking. We can also love by not.

So I stayed awake that night, listening to the sound of silence, reading, praying. And when I finally understood, finally broke through to determine to put that muzzle over my mouth in spite of the discomfort and sacrifice- because that was love, I fell asleep.

” I will watch my ways, and keep my tongue from sin;

I will put a muzzle on my mouth.”

-Psalm 39: 1-2

“Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths,

but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs,

that it may benefit those who listen.”

– Ephesians 4:29

“Love… is not self seeking, it is not easily angered…”

– 1 Cor 13:5