It’s true. As much as I hate it and try to keep it from happening, I bite – with my tongue.
Just say the wrong thing at the wrong time in the wrong tone, and it is on.
Catch me on the morning that I didn’t get all 8,777 z’s that I need, and I’m likely to pounce first.
Speak to me in a voice that I only interpret as condescending to another precious soul that I love, and watch me hiss.
Or, walk headlong into danger after I’ve begged you to turn around, and he who was once brother becomes enemy of the state.
It happens. More often than I care to admit. It happens. And those that walk headlong into it, because apparently I don’t keep my flashers on long enough, know it all too well.
It’s where I’m not like Jesus.
Truth is, right before it happens, there is this voice that tries to speak up. I’ve heard it before. It tells me kindly to hold my tongue, step back, and count to ten, sometimes ten thousand if I’m particularly riled. But, sometimes, I choose to ignore it. Because selfishly there is great satisfaction in the bite.
I find myself salivating at just the right barb to land the sink and bring it all home…isn’t that disgusting? I don’t play games, I end them. I don’t set people up with juicy innuendo hoping they get what point I’m trying to make, I stab them with the razors edge of truth driving the point home, powerfully and with a crushing blow.
Didn’t know this about me? It’s because you haven’t crossed my path.
Most the time I’m loving and giving and kind. Most of the time I’m funny and passionate and graceful. Most of the time I’m understanding and sympathetic and good hearted. But, there are times like I mentioned above when my flesh rips through it’s cage of self control, and I attack.
It’s disturbing to admit….and yet, I feel the need to let it all out. Post it in a blog that a few people will read because I’m tired of the lie…the pedestal…the thought that I’m somehow not capable of these human tendencies. I assure you I am.
I can be ugly and mean, resentful and unkind.
I can make rude comments about people I don’t know and who don’t know me.
I can ignore someone who obviously just needs someone to listen.
I can turn my nose up at people who turn their noses up at me.
I can hurt people deeply, intentionally or unintentionally, and have no way to undo that pain.
I can forget that the life I live is not my own. I don’t want to. It isn’t how or who or what I want to be. But, I can…and I do.
It’s selfish and it’s cruel and it’s unkind and pretty much diabolical.
And, this is a warning of sorts, wrapped up in a confession: Don’t get on the wrong side of my teeth. You might not recover.