Self-expression provides identity and proves existence. And my words often give me an unholy identity and existence. I would imagine that most of you feel similarly—or at least have in the past. So many times I not only regret what I say, but also what I do not.
The reflection and prayer from Michel Quoist that I provide below has really made me consider the severity of speech. I hope it enlightens you as you pray with him (as I try to do as much as I can).
I Spoke, Lord**
Speech is God’s gift. We shall have to account for it. It is through words that we communicate with each other and that we reveal what we are. We haven’t the right to be silent, but speaking is a serious matter, and we must weigh our words in the sight of God.
I spoke, Lord, and I am furious.
I am furious because I worked so hard with gestures and with words.
I threw my whole self into them, and I’m afraid the essential didn’t get across.
For the essential is not mine, and words alone are too shallow to hold it.
I spoke, Lord, and I am worried.
I am afraid of speaking, for speaking is serious;
It’s serious to disturb others, to bring them out, to keep them on their doorsteps;
It’s serious to keep them waiting, with outstretched hands and longing hearts, seeking for light or some courage to live and act.
Suppose, Lord, that I should send them away, empty-handed!
And yet, I must speak.
You have given me speech for a few years, and I must make us of it.
I owe my soul to others, and words are crowding to my lips to bring it to them.
For the soul could hardly express itself if speech were taken from it.
We know nothing of the infant inside its little body,
And the whole family rejoices when, word by word, phrase by phrase, its soul is revealed to them.
But when one of the family is dying, the others stand despairing by his bed, listening intently to his last words.
He passes on, locked in silence, and his relatives will no longer know his soul, once they have shut his eyes and closed his lips.
Speech, Lord, is a gift, and I have no right to be quiet through pride, cowardice, negligence or apathy.
Others have a right to my words, to my soul,
For I have a message from you to give them,
And none other that I, Lord, can give it to them.
I have something to say—short perhaps, but welling up from my life—from which I cannot turn.
But my words must be true words.
It would be a breach of trust to seek the attention of another, and under the cover of words not to reveal the truth of the soul.
The words that I pour out must be living words, full of the mysteries that my unique soul has grasped, mysteries of the world and of man.
The words that I speak must be conveyors of God, for the lips that you have given me, Lord, are made to reveal my soul, and my soul knows you and holds you close.
–
Forgive me, Lord, for having spoken so badly,
Forgive me for having spoken often to no purpose;
Forgive me for the days when I tarnished my lips with hollow words,
false words,
cowardly words,
words through which you could not pass.
Uphold me when I must speak in a meeting, intervene in a discussion, talk with a brother.
Grant above all, Lord, that my words may be like the sowing of seeds,
And that those who hear them may look to a fine harvest.
**This can be found in his Prayers (Kansas City, MO: Sheed & Ward, 1963), 69-71.
