I used to have this habit. It was a bad habit, but it felt like a gift. It felt like raw, unleashed, talent. Sarcasm. Biting, hard-hitting, cruel. I could dig down into peoples skin and come away with chunks of self-esteem like no one else. I was what- fourteen, fifteen years old- and yet I could use sarcasm like I’d been trained in it in the mountains of Peru for forty years. (As far as I know, there is not a sarcasm training camp in the mountains of Peru, but at the age of fifteen I probably could have started one on my own.) But, of course, it couldn’t last. Not the talent- that has stayed with me. Still, like a flash of malevolent genius, retorts will come to me immediately. I just bite my tongue, now. Sometimes literally. Clenched jaw, pained smile, closed eyes, trying not to speak in the face of something so incredibly presumptuous, immature, blind, or uncalled for that it takes far more willpower than I possess to keep quiet. Hey, Holy Spirit, thanks for being ...
The ramblings of a woman, wife, mother, artist, and Christ follower.