From The Editor: Speak Truth in Love

I am a full-on introvert. I can survive in social situations well enough if I know at least one person in the room, but before long, I’m going to be exhausted and not a great conversationalist.

Even in a group of friends where I’m comfortable enough to be myself, I don’t often add to conversations. I mostly sit back and listen, giving myself time to think through what I feel about the subject matter. If I decide I have something to say, I’ll say it. But if I think it won’t be a helpful contribution, or if I waited too long and the talk has shifted to a different topic, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.

I don’t speak rashly. I don’t speak my mind until I know my mind. I like to understand implications and possible reactions before I put forward my opinions because I don’t want to hurt anyone.

When I was about seven years old, I only had a few really good friends. These were people with whom I felt safe sharing my thoughts and feelings, and we enjoyed playing games of pretend and dress-up, generally running wild as seven-year-olds are wont to do.

My friend Sarah and her family attended our church every Sunday. Her mother and her mother’s boyfriend led praise and worship, and her brother was actively involved in our youth programs. Sarah was an absolutely beautiful person inside and out, and I adored her.

Sometimes after church we would be allowed to go to a friend’s house to play for the afternoon. As there were five of us kids, I imagine this was quite helpful for my parents, though they limited whose homes we could visit. I so yearned to go to Sarah’s house to play after church on Sundays, but the answer to my pleading was always “No” with evasive reasoning, my parents instead suggesting that Sarah come over to our house.

One Sunday I was particularly persistent in my questioning why I couldn’t go, even though her parents said it was okay, and my parents finally told me I wasn’t allowed to go to her house because her parents lived together but weren’t married. As all good parents, they wanted to ensure my physical safety, but they also wanted me to be in environments where good Christian values were practiced.

Of course, at age seven, I didn’t understand any of this. Her parents were leaders in our church; they were nice, kind people. All I really understood for sure was that I couldn’t go to Sarah’s house because they weren’t married. And that’s what I told Sarah when she called and asked me if I could come over and play.

I lost a friend that day. And it wasn’t until years later that I understood why. A while after Sarah hung up on me, my dad came and asked me what I’d said to her. Her parents had called to complain, saying that she had cried for hours. And she never spoke to me again.

My words, though truthful and not at all intended to hurt, cut Sarah to pieces. Since then, I take my time thinking through implications and possible reactions before speaking. Sometimes that means I miss opportunities, but when I do speak up, it’s because I really have something to say.

Proverbs 12:17-18 says: “An honest witness tells the truth, but a false witness tells lies. The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”

It’s imperative that we speak the truth, but let’s not be reckless in doing so. Instead, we need the Holy Spirit to guide our words and timing. He knows when it’s time to speak up and when it’s best to just sit and listen. Don’t just speak the first words that come to mind; allow time to process your thoughts and feelings, making sure what you say is God-honoring and helpful. And when it’s time, speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15).