It was my final
year and the preparations for the dinner night was in top gear. Our executives
had the plans revving up their sleeves and the details snow flaked on us as
they made decisions. We had a lot to put into motion, gifts, dress codes,
logistics etc and it all depended on how much we could co-operate as a house.
We were known as
the Glorious Family, 2006 set and we really glowed in our different cadres and
rankings. We had one of the best crop of individual outcomes if my judgment
were to be relied upon, banking on personality and uniqueness. We were all different.
I, for one, didn’t
see through some of the ideas that were raised with respect to the dinner plans
and I sought to air my opinion…by writing. I got my pen and I wrote as I thought
was meet.
Few days later,
the executives summoned me and I was wondering what I did wrong. They went
through my write and in a mature fashion told me my message was received and
then came the caution…
My Coordinator
calmly but very strongly told me never to use my pen to hurt. He went on to
tell me how strong my words could get and that if God has given me a talent to
use them words, it shouldn’t be to anyone’s detriment.
It sounded like
a word to bluff until I remembered so many cases that my writing had caused a misdemeanour
and others that have actually been fatal, emotionally and otherwise. I unconsciously
imbibed that advice all these years but late last night something happened.
It was a
hard-to-swallow event. It lasted few minutes but I sure got a lifetime out of
it. My first impulse was to react, then to write. “Write” in the last sentence
could safely be taken as a synonym of HURT.
I racked my
brain to find some decorum. I was as
angry as I could remember. I couldn’t think straight. All I wanted to do was to
write but I was still seething. I tried talking to a friend whom I knew would
understand better and moments later I could feel my apoplectic situation dim
its intensity a bit. My friend thankfully understood and like a true "Abigail", she bore the brunt.
What I went
through in those few minutes of my life made me realize the intensity of these
words:
He
that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit
than he that taketh a city. Proverbs 16:32
I sure had
failed if it had been a test and I think it was even more than that for me. Sometimes
the words we read and preach never come to life until we are faced with the
real challenge of engaging what we have so long consumed. Yes, I got angry couldnt reason well, i wanted to so badly react. nevertheless i refused to write in my anger nor reply the host of the bad event. I
had to let the ‘write’ slide. I actually did. i may not be completely over it but i am not as mad as i was. Thank God I did.
Lord, I messed
up and got so irate. Please help me to stop “taking cities” and feeling “mighty”,
please help me to be slow to anger and rule my spirit. Help me to grow in
wisdom and stature, and in
favour with You and with MAN (Sniffing).
