A gentle answer turns away anger, but a harsh word stirs up wrath. Proverbs 15:1
A long time ago I was in an unfamiliar hotel bed and in the middle of a full night of world-class, competition-quality tossing and turning. Around two o’clock, I reached for the remote and flipped the television on. Completely unfamiliar with the sequence of channels in this faraway city, I slowly clicked one channel at a time. When I had completed the cycle twice, I turned it off. Two hundred and six channels and nothing’s on, I thought as I rolled over, burying my face in one of the feather pillows that smelled a bit like aftershave I don’t use. Ugh.
Still unable to sleep, I began to do a mental recap of what I had just seen during my channel surfing. What if an intergalactic space traveler had flipped through those programs? I thought. And what if he were looking for an answer to the question, “What is a man?” What would he think, given what I just saw?
I went back to my review. WWE “wrestling,” now there’s a great place to start. Where do they get these guys? Can’t you see the classified ad? “Wanted: Strong, beefy, hairy man with plenty of strategically located tattoos. Must be willing to cover himself with Vaseline and throw other strong, beefy hairy men around a boxing ring. Willing to spend countless hours in the gym.”
I had seen a few old black-and-white sitcoms featuring Jackie Gleason, Dick Van Dyke, Desi Arnaz—men that yell a lot, men that trip over things, or men that don’t have a clue. Then there were the music videos: men with pants so tight they look like a coat of glossy black enamel, gyrating and sweating to what some call music. Finally, I saw political roundtables featuring men who were vigorously and rudely interrupting one another over climate change and the line-item veto, complete with name calling and bitter stereotyping.
The next thing I knew it was morning, but I couldn’t forget the wake-up call I had received at two. While I was shaving and showering, the montage of images continued to turn in my mind. Over breakfast I thought about my wife and my children and the indescribable gift God had given me to be their husband and dad. I thought about God’s call to be His man for them, in spite of the weird and confusing images from the night before. I thought of a word. It was not anything I had seen in the men in the middle of the night: strong, silly, articulate, or argumentative. Rather, it’s the second word that opens today’s proverb: gentle.
I saw our girls in their fuzzy, yellow sleepers, pattering down the stairs to bowls of Corn Pops (if I’m in charge) or oatmeal (if their mother’s in charge). I saw my faithful wife, hustling to cover for me in my absence. I envisioned what it would be like to see them in two days. And I could feel their loving embrace.
Folks sitting around me in the hotel restaurant may have thought there was something wrong with my breakfast. I pushed my toast back, bowed my head, and with my eyes swimming in tears, I asked my heavenly Father to make me more tender. More loving. More forgiving. More gentle. Especially gentle.
Amen.