TIM E HOLDER

The practice in Israel was for all relatives of a conquered king to be killed. This tradition insured the safety of the newly seated king and kept them from being killed by the descendants of previously dethroned royalty.

King David was in a dilemma.

After having spent several years battling neighboring nations, and soundly defeating them, he was finally able to grieve the death of his beloved friend, Jonathan, the son of King Saul. Jonathan knew that one day, David would be King. and because of the covenant he and David made with one another, knowing that David would never harm him or his family, he asked David to promise that once he became King, David would take care of his descendants. And of course, David promised.

After Jonathan’s death, David asked if any of Jonathan’s family were still alive. His heart was to show kindness to them. Mephibosheth, whose name meant “from the mouth of shame,” was hiding in Lodebar, a barren, dry, brown, lonely village to the east of the Jordan river where he lived for many years.

He was five when his nurse fled with him after the death of his father and grandfather for fear of his being killed by the new King. In her haste, she dropped him and he was rendered lame in both his feet for the rest of his life.

Imagine his horror when King David’s soldiers showed up at the home of Machir where Mephibosheth was living. Now in his thirties, the anxious fear he must have lived with for decades was finally at the front door.

Taken to the very throne room where he spent his childhood, Mephibosheth must have concluded that one of the possible outcomes for his eventual death was about to come to fruition. How many times did he practice his death in his dreams? How many ways did he imagine he would be found out by the King. And here it was. He recognized from a very early age that this moment was not only possible, but inevitable.

He fell on the floor of the throne room, face down, when David entered. What must have been going through David’s heart when he looked down on this crippled man. He said, “Mephibosheth.” And how David’s heart must have broken when Mephibosheth looked up and said, “Yes sir.” David surely saw the resemblance of his dearest, most trusted, covenanted friend, Jonathan in the eyes of this panicked, confused young man.

Then David said words that Mephibosheth never, in all his imaginings of this moment ever allowed even enter his consciousness. Instead of watching the sword fall in his last moments on earth, Mephibosheth heard the one who held the continuance of his days in his hands say, “Mephibosheth, don’t be afraid.” I’m not even sure the relief of his life being given back to him was the first thing that registered in his brain. All the years of knowing he would die by the king’s sword was violently exorcised from his thoughts. Because his first words were from disbelief, rather than gratitude. He stuttered and stammered and said, “Who am I that you would pay attention to a stray dog like me?”  Almost as if he were admitting, “wait a minute. You’re supposed to kill me.”

But, David chose words of life instead of words of death that Mephibosheth, just like so many of us, expect to hear. I can’t even begin to comprehend Mephibosheth’s response when David returned to him all the land and everything that belonged to his father and even his grandfather, King Saul. And when David ended that meeting by telling him that he would eat at the King’s table for the rest of his life, Mephibosheth must have felt like a dog with two tails.

Proverbs 18:21 reads, “The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat it’s fruit.” There is no neutral ground here. No disengaged, disinterested, noncommittal, isolated rock to stand on. This scripture says words either bring life, or death.

And if I’m honest, I can’t say that I spend a majority of any day deliberately making a choice to disperse life over death. That’s not to say that everything I dish out has to start with “Jesus loves you.” Or that I have to end each phone call with “In accordance with prophecy.”  It doesn’t have to announce to anyone that I am spiritual by saying, “Have a blessed day.”

What it does mean, I think, is the meaning of the word life, which in this instance is Zoe, which means eternal life, God’s life. We have been given eternal life. So it just makes sense that we should be speaking with an ever ongoing, eternal mindset. And our words to others should be seasoned with that mindset.

I am always amazed that many times, when I give encouragement to someone, or a word of hope, they respond as though they don’t deserve it. Or they feel guilty about receiving a compliment. And I have even received affirmation from people who seemed uncomfortable giving it, almost as though a kind word leaves them weak and vulnerable.

Recently, talking to a friend, they recounted a conversation they were having with an employee. They were getting frustrated with the employee for not doing a project the way they would have done it. First I asked if the employee was given direction on how the project was to be done. The employer said “no.” I asked if the project was completed. The answer was, “Yes.” Then I asked how the employee took the criticism. They said, “not very well. What would you have done?” I told her, “I have been thinking a lot about my legacy and how I would like to be thought of when one day I’m gone. I’m not talking about at my memorial service. But, even now. The legacy that I leave on a daily basis. I  would have told that person, ‘Good job. You finished the project. Thank you for getting it done.’

I’m learning that doing something my way is just another way. Not the only way. That my way is not necessarily better, just different. And what I might think is a better way, is still not the only way. It’s just my way. If the project gets done, it’s done. No matter whose way it gets done. Doing it my way will not make either one of us a better person. But man, what gratification I get when I get to tell someone, “great job.”

What does our living legacy look like? Are we dispersing ZOE life? Or death? Every thing we say, everything makes a difference.

Everything.

We will either ride the popular wave of uplifting ourselves, or we will disrupt the status quo. Most people won’t get it. We will leave them feeling uncomfortable but uplifted, confused but questioning. Some will feel vulnerable, not having been given a reason to take a defensive stance.

I want this process of feeding life instead of death into people’s lives on a far more regular basis. I believe we are chiseling our tombstone epitaph every moment of our life.  It doesn’t matter what is actually etched on our tombstone. What we pour into peoples lives, even a stranger, is what will be read on the tombstone that really matters. 

I was given one of those moments a while back. Only this day, I specifically asked for it.

It was a rainy Sunday morning. A VERY rainy Sunday morning. I was singing a solo that morning at church. I woke up a little past 2am and found my electricity out. I decided that if it was still out when my phone alarm went off, I would pack everything in my car and go to the vet clinic where I work, take a shower and head in to church.

When the alarm went off, the electricity was still out. So, I turned on my phone flashlight and gathered everything together, after taking the dogs out in the pouring rain. Then I made 3 trips to the car. It was literally like taking a shower every time I walked outside. Finally, everything was loaded. I got in the car and just as I started to turn the key in the ignition switch, the porch light came on. I sat there in a short lived  state of “postal” before I got out of the car and made three trips back into the house with all my clothes and toiletries. Finally, on the way to church, I was still trying to settle down and I asked the Lord to help me to not be a distraction today. But, give me the chance to bring life to someone by my words.

After church, I decided I would stop at Kroger on Cantrell and get some stuff for lunch. There’s a red light at the corner before you turn right into the parking lot. This particular day, the red light was blinking. I assumed it was because power was out the night before. And I was relieved to see lots of cars in the parking lot as I pulled in, letting me know the store was open.

I went in and grabbed a hand basket and spent about 30 minutes gathering my avocados and stuff for guac (I was having a hankering).

Going down one aisle, there was a young man, obviously doing family shopping, with a cart full of  kid-friendly groceries. I needed to get past him and asked him to excuse me. And he graciously did.

A few minutes later, as I approached the self-check aisle, the same guy was there and I heard him say, “No way.  Are you kidding me?” The little lady there said, “No. I wish I was.” To which he replied, “Well, what am I supposed to do?” She looked tired and said, “You can go to the customer service desk.” I glanced up and saw a line of people at the service desk. Apparently, this line was for lodging complaints. I jokingly said to the guy, “Are you giving her a hard time?” He looked at me, trying to hide frustration and said, “I hope you have cash.” 

“Why?”

“Because every credit card machine in the store is down.” My first reaction was to get my back up like a spitting cat. But, then I remembered the prayer. I hate it when that happens. So not fair. I wanted to be mad. And even the other guy refrained from exhibiting frustration. He must have shopped for at least an hour. He asked, “Why didn’t they announce it over the intercom?” She said they did. But, it never happened while I was in the store. The other guy said, “What should I do with all this stuff?” She told him to just leave it and someone else would take care of it. He left and then she looked at me. Her shoulders were squared, her jaw set, ready to be defensive. I just looked at her and said, “I feel so bad that someone is going to have to put all this stuff back on the shelves. But, I know it’s not your fault. So don’t think I’m going to be one of those people that try to make it your fault.” Her shoulders just drooped as she tiredly said, “Thank you.” 

And then I drove to Wal-Mart and got all the same stuff cheaper.

The next day, I was recounting what happened to a friend and she said, “Well you were a lot nicer than I would have been. I would have told her they wasted a half hour of my life and there should have been notes on the door in big red letters and there should have been people standing at the door telling people that the credit card machines were down. That would have been a total waste of my time.” And I said, “Yeah, that may be right. But, the bottom line for me is that I know if that lady remembers that moment, she will know that in some small way, I may have been the only chance of her seeing Jesus that day. And if she saw something different from the rest of the crowd, then that’s to God’s credit. I want that to be my legacy. And besides, it just felt good. I didn’t walk away feeling like I needed to be justified or stand up for my rights or have a “guess I showed them” moment. It may have taken thirty minutes, but I learned something. So it was worth the time.”

That’s what I want my legacy to look like. Today, what will my legacy be? I have a busy week ahead of me that could get stressful. Will I speak words of death? Or will I choose to leave others with words of life? Have you been given the opportunity today to treat someone with undeserved respect? Or will you avoid their eyes as you insist on having something done your way? My challenge for you and me is that we feed someone words of life today. Make a deliberate decision. We may not see the chance because we are so used to just responding without thinking. 

1 Peter 3:10 “For whoever would love life and see good days must keep their tongue from evil and their lips from deceitful speech.” There’s no neutral, drab or flat colors to it. Words either bring vibrant, active responses that resonate eternity, or they are passionless, monotonous, indifferent platitudes that blend in with the rest of the world. If you pray for the chance to give life today, you will get it.

I’m betting very few people will actually say “pepperoni and cheese,” but the question still remains.  “What do you want on your tombstone?”