Foot In Mouth Disease

Have you ever been quick to speak and slow to listen?

Strangely, I have several memories from my childhood. Now, to be sure, there are certain details that I can’t even conjure up with a picture to prove it right in front of me. Yet, in spite of the things I have since forgotten, I do clearly remember a time when I took the opportunity to stick my own foot in my mouth when all I really needed to do was to sit and be quiet.

I was in the 1^st grade. My teacher was Mrs. Mays. We had a single room class environment, with a covered porch outside that led to other classrooms and parts of the school. Everything but lunch and recess happened in that room. We even had our own bathroom, sink, and water fountain built right in. It was a glorious time to be alive (even though my mom also taught 1^st grade and was one classroom over). Friday was always “show and tell” day. Sometimes, certain students were selected to present specific things to the class, like when during a section on learning money, Mark Whipple had to come up with 15 items from his house that cost between .59 and .99 cents. Then, on certain other days, the floor would be opened for any topic or presentation, and students could pontificate on whatever their hearts desired. It was just such a day that brings me to the memory I’d like to share.

We had just gotten back from Spring Break. School was a drag. We all knew that there were only two months left until the summer and we could “flee as a bird to the mountain” of our relaxing summers. Sensing our anxiety, Mrs. Mays called an audible and insisted “show and tell” was to commence that very moment. In astonishment, my classmates and I looked at each other in dismay. Could it be she’d lost her mind over the vacation? “Show and tell” wasn’t for another four arduous days! None of us had anything prepared to show! And then it happened. Mrs. Mays called me up to the front. I waited for what seemed the length of an Encyclopedia Britannica – not knowing what I was supposed to “show” or “tell” about. And then it came. Mrs. Mays told the class that we were to tell each other what we did for Spring break – and to use as many details as possible. I was horrified. My Spring Break wasn’t eventful at all. Except for a brief day trip to the Wichita Mountains, I hadn’t done anything worth telling. So, with my hat in my hand, I plodded along with a boring story about riding my bike and going to get my haircut, etcetera, etcetera…After only a few sentences, I trudged to my desk and plopped down - embarrassed.

And then it happened. One by one, my peers came to the front of the room and talked about the wonderful time they’d had and the amazing things they’d done over Spring Break. I felt like a worm. And rather than sitting and listening to the fantastic stories they were telling, I began to weave a yarn of my own that would make up for my otherwise dull week off and supplant everyone else’s “show and tell.” As Brad Owen finished his awe-inspiring story about going skiing in Colorado, I lept to my feet and asked Mrs. Mays if I could add a “couple” of details to my story that I had “inadvertently” left off. She graciously gave me the floor, and launched into a Spring Break story – the likes of which have never been heard again. We laughed. We cried. I had the room in the palm of my hand as I told fabrication after fabrication of my 9 days away. I was so eager for the spotlight to be on me that I crossed every line of believability as I spoke. At one point, I told a story about having a real pistol on a hiking trip, and that a water moccasin had chased me along the trail, until I turned around and blew his head off with the revolver. I was amazing. That is, until Mrs. Mays talked to my mother later that day and I was scolded within an inch of my life.

Have you ever done that - been so anxious to get yourself out there – maybe in a group of people, at work, in a committee meeting, one on one with a stranger, etc., that you opened your mouth and rambled on, rather than to sit quietly and see what others have to say about their lives? This Sunday, our worship will be focusing on the story of Philip and the Ethiopian, and, as eager as Philip was to jump on in and give the eunuch an earful about the Gospel, he was patient to wait on the timing of the Lord to open his mouth. If the story were told differently, it would be about Philip. Instead, this story reminds of our need to be ready to listen and hear from God. Only his Spirit can lead us to a soul ready for the harvest.

Resounding Themes:
Power of God
God’s Heart for Reconciling His Children
The Good News of Jesus
Seeing with the Eyes of Jesus and Hearing with the Ears of the Spirit

Ready, Set, READ

Acts 8:26-40

Ready, Set, MEDITATE

- What do we learn about Philip’s encounter in the very opening words of the story? In what specific ways did the angel/Spirit direct and instruct Philip. Is it possible that the Holy Spirit has beckoned us to do certain things and go certain places – but we weren’t in a posture to listen?

- What were the circumstances by which Philip and the Ethiopian met? In what ways was the meeting extraordinary? What strikes you as the most bizarre about the encounter?

- Looking at the passage that the Ethiopian was reading and knowing that we’re focusing on our ability listen to the voice of God in our worship, what is ironic about the prophet’s words? How was Jesus good at the idea of “show and listen?” Are we as available to hear God as Jesus? Philip? The Ethiopian?

Ready, Set, PRAY

All patient Father, Whose knowledge and wisdom outstretches the pinnacle of our understanding, we come to You, seeking Your favor and counsel. We confess our own pride in Your presence and realize how many times we have tried to replace Your genuine leading with our own counterfeit agendas. We are but immature schoolchildren standing before a group of ours peers – eager to speak and impress, but slow to hear and sense the leading of your Spirit. Our impetuousness has cost us encounter upon encounter with those in need of a Word from You. God, please forgive! In exchange for our foolishness, will You grant us your wisdom? Would You contrast our need to elevate ourselves against your incomparable greatness and place in the world? And would You have us to marvel at the great things You do when we allow ourselves to be silent and your Spirit speak to us. Would You lead us to some chariot today! For we ask it in the name of Christ. AMEN.

Ready, Set, WORSHIP!