I have always admired the man with experience in his hair and wisdom in his eyes. You’ve seen the type. They usually are tall, thin, and have grey hair. They typically have a subtle smile on their face. They watch and observe but say very little unless asked to contribute.
I think of the man pictured here in this post. I recall a time when I was mowing the church lawn, and I can’t remember why I was upset, but when Pastor Russ pulled into the parking lot, I immediately felt an atmosphere of peace come over the place. It was then I nicknamed him “Moses” for he helped me that day, and I considered him “my deliverer.” God knew what was going on. He knew my struggles, and He had heard my complaints. God sent me Moses.
I desire to be a “quiet man” without grey hair. Even at age 60, I still have a decent head of hair and very few grey strands. It’s the only good thing about my physical being. Trust me, I’ve seen the rest of it! But I respect the demeanor of a “quiet man.” I find it difficult to hold my tongue often, especially when I witness an injustice, or am offended. Too many times, I speak out first.
The hoary [grey] head is a crown of beauty and glory if it is found in the way of righteousness (moral and spiritual rectitude in every area and relation).
Prov. 16:31 (AMPC)
Post this at all the intersections, dear friends: Lead with your ears, follow up with your tongue, and let anger straggle along in the rear. God’s righteousness doesn’t grow from human anger. So throw all spoiled virtue and cancerous evil in the garbage. In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life. James 1:19-21 (MSG)
So if I want to be a “quiet man,” I need to apply the word of God in my life. After accepting this truth, I should practice and practice and practice being slow to anger and listening with my heart. I should have started working much earlier on this. I will probably have grey hair by the time I master it.
Copyright © 2022 Mark Brady. All rights reserved.
It happened last week, last year, or even longer ago, but the memory of the hurt and pain can still rise to the surface so fast. A word, a name, a song, a phrase can trigger the instance to come back. You feel those emotions…again. You say you have forgiven the offender, you even tell yourself you have moved on, so then why does it still rise up and bite you, and at times with the same emotions you experienced when it first happened?
When is enough, enough? Have you had it with an individual, or a workplace? What about a country? You scream so loud on the inside you’re surprised that dogs don’t howl! Why do people, work rules, or a countries procedures have to be ridiculous? If they made sense, or had a justifiable reason behind them, then fine, so be it. For someone to say, “But that’s the rule,” or “that’s the way it is,” over and over doesn’t help either. It hurts, beating your head against the wall repeatedly, trying to find a sliver of logic to it all when the truth is, there is none!
brady, mark a. 