by Rhonda Rhea @RhondaRhea
I love warm and fuzzy. Give me all the warmest of warms and all the fuzziest of the fuzzies and I’m usually quite happy. Unless. Unless we’re talking about my fridge. It should never be warm—and I’m good with that part. But more than that, who put all this fuzzy in here?
It feels like I can hardly go a day and half without opening my refrigerator and encountering some kind of green glow. Encountering? Maybe more like Geiger-counter-ing. Because surely there’s something nuclear happening in there.
How does macaroni get this furry? And this blue? And how does spaghetti seem to grow its own meatballs? Also, I’m never touching that.
I admit it, cleaning my fridge is generally way too far down my list of priorities. I’ve brought more than one box of baking soda to its knees. Probably made it cry.
I hope I’ll never be casual, though, about how I touch others with my words, and how those words affect and influence people. Ephesians 4:15 refers to “speaking the truth in love.” Truth. Love. We really have to have both. Truth without love is harsh. But love without truth is empty fluff.
It’s easy to say whatever we think others want to hear. Easy, but not fruitful. I want my words to touch lives in ways that will make a difference. That doesn’t always mean saying words that are warm and fuzzy. Sometimes helpful words are the kind that sting a little.
Ecclesiastes 12:11 says, “The words of the wise are like cattle prods—painful but helpful. Their collected sayings are like a nail-studded stick with which a shepherd drives the sheep” (NLT). Cattle-prodding words. I really get a charge out of that visual.
It goes both ways. I appreciate my closest friends who lovingly “herd” me in the right direction with caring words of wisdom. A painful poke instead of a tickle? I’m telling you, I’ll take the jab of truth any day. I’d rather head the right direction after a stinging prod than continue down the wrong road, all the while hearing everything’s fine and I’m doing a great job.
Value truthful words from your trusted friends. They’re more precious than the insincere, say-whatever-warm-and-fuzzies-you-want-to-hear words of a flatterer. Give your faithful friends the freedom to tell you the truth even when it smarts. Those stinging truths are often the ones God can use to polish your character and make you more like Christ. Proverbs 27:6 says, “Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses” (NIV). Another version puts it this way: “You can trust a friend who corrects you, but kisses from an enemy are nothing but lies” (CEV).
If you don’t have a friend who will speak the truth in love to you, be on the lookout for one. Ask God to provide a friend who can help add just the spit-shine you’re needing in your life.
Loving words of truth and wisdom. Now there’s something I don’t want to let slide down my list of priorities.
The fridge-cleaning though? Okay yeah, that should definitely come up the priority list a notch or two. Like, more than a spit-shine. Especially since that last cleaning. Because I never knew lettuce could turn that brown. Or liquefy.
Rhonda Rhea is an award-winning humor columnist for great magazines such as HomeLife, Leading Hearts, The Pathway, and many more. She is the author of 19 books, including the popular romantic comedies co-authored with her daughter Kaley Rhea, Off-Script & Over-Caffeinated and Turtles in the Road. Rhonda and Kaley have also teamed up with Bridges TV host Monica Schmelter for the Messy to Meaningful books and TV projects. Along with Beth Duewel, Rhonda writes the Fix Her Upper series, and she also co-authored Unruffled: Thriving in Chaos with Edie Melson. She speaks at conferences and events from coast to coast, serves on many boards and committees, and stays busy as a publishing consultant. Rhonda says you can find her living near St. Louis drinking too much coffee and snort-laughing with her pastor/husband, five grown children, and a growing collection of the most exceptional grandbabies.
The Conversation
Ha!!! I so identify with this. A friend once told me his cooking specialty was “pussywillow casseroles”—he grew them in his fridge.
Nancy, I LOVE that!
A powerful example of show, don’t tell!