A good friend sent me an email earlier this month with her verse for the year in it.  She asked me if I had made any goals and it got me thinking.  Usually I pick a word for the year and this year I have been so focused on other things that it slipped my mind.  At first I thought I might want to work on simplicity because we are reading Jen Hatmaker right now and because my life feels a bit excessive still.  Then I moved on to reclaim.   We fasted from media for a month and it was so fun to have loads of reclaimed time for more mentally engaging things like playing board games, practicing the piano, reading stacks and stacks of books.  I've also succumbed to the sugar pit again and reclaiming my kitchen sounded like a spiritual way to shed a few cake pounds.  

But yesterday I sat in a marriage class that was attempting to nail down gender roles within the Biblical model of marriage and, after I talked myself out of a submission rant, I heard a testimony to the danger of that tone all of us women have and utilize when we're feeling impatient, disgusted, bitter, resentful.  I'm real real good at that tone.  And just the night before I had used it on my poor sweet husband because of something small and petty but my tone was big and it sent us into a large car fight in the parking lot of Target.  

No one talks to me the way you do.  He has said that many times to me.  He has said it angrily and sadly and, worst of all, brokenly.  Knife to my heart.  Because I love that man, I really do.  And I think he's brilliant.  I think he's a wonderful match for my moody, impulsive personality.  But sometimes I talk to him like he's an idiot.  Sometimes I talk to him like he's being an idiot on purpose, like he was sent to this earth just to annoy me.  Sometimes I treat him like dirt.  And even though my words aren't awful.  Even though my voice isn't raised.  My tone can slice that man in two.

We're talking about raising little people soon.  I sat in the chair imagining little Croppers running around talking to people like they're idiots.  I cringed.  I sat in the chair imagining that tone slipping out of my mouth and digging into their hearts.  Ouch.

Needless to say, I found my word.  It's not as trendy as the other two.  It's old and basic and it sometimes makes me wrinkle my nose because it does not come naturally to this independent, impatient girl.  But it is so necessary.  My tone is running out of control and really, that's a pretty good indicator that my heart is off.  My heart is lacking gentleness.  So here we go, Philippians 4:5.  Here we go new tones.  Here we go archaic, feminine word.  I'd be lying if I said I was excited, but I am determined (and husband is shouting hallelujahs).