Years
ago when we lived in a little town, we had a good friend who told us a great
foot-in-mouth story. Some mutual friends
of ours were having a baby. The first
time my friend saw this little girl, he said to the dad, “Well, Joe, she
doesn’t look anything like you!” The
room got quiet, and my friend wondered why everyone suddenly seemed
uncomfortable. Someone reminded him
later that this couple had been briefly separated and shortly after they got
back together, she announced she was pregnant.
In that little town, where everyone knows everyone else’s business,
people were doing the math in their heads to see if it was possible that they
had conceived that baby after they got back together. My friend had forgotten about all of that,
and he felt horrible. But there was no
way to un-say it. I am happy to tell you
that the couple in question is still married, and I did their daughter’s wedding
a few years ago. I also must confess
that I have many, many stories in which I put my own foot in my own mouth, but
they are all so embarrassing, I chose to throw my friend under the bus. At least I didn’t use his real name!
We all have foot-in-mouth
stories. We all say things we later
regret. This happens in particular times: When
we try to be funny, like my friend.
I have told my son, who will be entering middle school next year, “It’s
far better at your age to never try to be funny. Just let funny happen on its own.” If all middle school boys took that advice,
the world would be a better place.
Actually, that may be pretty good advice for all of us. When
we offer opinions that aren’t backed up by knowledge, we embarrass
ourselves as well. When we share juicy information we just heard, we destroy the
reputations of others, and often are the willing transmitters of
falsehoods. In plain English, that makes
us liars. When we “blow up.” We all
have stories of times we spoke in a blind rage.
Very few of those stories are funny.
Many of them created wounds that have never fully healed. Some destroyed relationships forever. When
we complain. At another church, a woman was very upset about not being able
to get in touch with a lady who was on our staff. I said, “Oh, she’s on vacation. She’ll be back next week.” The woman grunted
and said, “Must be nice!” The thought
that passed through my head was, “Woman, you’re retired. Your whole life is a vacation!” Thank God, I didn’t say it. If blowing up is the nuclear warhead of bad
speech, then complaining is the toxic waste.
It usually doesn’t hurt anyone directly, but it just builds up and
poisons the atmosphere.
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