“Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect…”
Well, ain’t that the truth. When I lay awake at night regretting something, 9 times out of 10… it’s something I said.
James says our words are like a forest fire. That’s an analogy fresh on my mind after spending last week backpacking. Each night we work hard to build a fire, but we also worked hard to make sure it was completely out before we went to bed. At our first two campsites it wasn’t too hard to make sure the fire was out. We were by a creek, and the ground was damp, and there wasn’t much wind to worry about.
But our third campsite was on a spot called Elk Garden – on top of a hill with lots of breeze and tall grass:
Once, I was camping in this spot and someone in our group told me a story about an untended fire at a similar kind of place… The unfortunate fire-builder left just a few coals burning when he went to bed, and the wind kicked the fire back to life, and one little spark flew out and burned the whole field down. I don’t know if that story was true or not, but every time I camp here I pour an extra dose of our precious water on this firepit to make sure I don’t repeat that guy’s mistake.
But we repeat that mistake all the time with our words. One little word slips out and things get metaphorically burned down: relationships, jobs, plans, organizations.
If we can get control over our words, we can get control over our lives.
But how do we do that?
James uses the image of a bridle. If we can bridle the tongue, we can control the body. You know what a bridle is, right? It’s the thing you use to control a horse, something like this:
But don’t take my word for it. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve sat on a horse a handful of times in my life, but most of the time it’s been one of those deals where the horse kind of knows to follow the horse in front of it – I didn’t hardly use the bridle.
We’ve got people in our church who do, though. People like Lucia Smithdeal.
Lucia is 10 years old and taking horseback riding lessons. I figured that made her something of an expert in the field. So I asked her, first: What’s a bridle?
Lucia taught me something I didn’t know: there are two kinds of bridles. One with the metal piece in the horse’s mouth; one without. And the metal piece – the bit – gives the rider a little firmer control over the horse.
As we think about how we “bridle” our tongues, this two-tiered approach might be helpful to remember. Sometimes we might only need a little guidance; other times, our tongues need a pretty firm hand.
So what are the times when your words regularly get away from you? What are the times when you need some strong control to keep your speech in check? Is it around certain people? In certain situations? Identifying those situations ahead of time can be a big jump start in controlling our tongues. When we see that coming, we can bridle up.
But how does a bridle work? What does it do? That’s what I asked Lucia next:
So the purpose of the bridle is control. Not complete control – but better control of the horse. It shows the horse who’s the boss.
So what does that for our tongues? I think two things: prayer and quiet.
I have my own situations where I know my words might get away from me. I’m a people person, an extrovert; being around people gives me energy. But sometimes all that energy gets me too wound up and I start to run my mouth. In other words – big gatherings of people can often be a sea of temptation for using my words poorly.
Before I go to a big gathering, I often pray that God would help me. I ask for help with the contents of my mind and heart, to keep them full of love and grace and not judgment. That leads to help with my words. If you aren’t sure what to pray on this front, there’s a verse that we preachers like to pray before sermons a lot:
“Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer” (Psalm 19:14).
Just like a real bridle, that prayer doesn’t have complete control over my words. Sometimes they still run away from me. But I know it helps.
The other thing that can serve as a “bridle” for our tongues is something we’ve been practicing this month: quiet. Being intentionally quiet in moments when we’re most tempted to say the wrong thing. This might be the equivalent of having a “bit” on the bridle – a firmer control on our tongues.
Have you ever been in a conversation where the other person wouldn’t stop talking? Where you couldn’t get a word in edge wise? It’s frustrating, isn’t it?
Now, turn the tables. Have you ever done that to someone else? What if – especially at times when you’re most at danger of saying the wrong thing – you practiced “quiet” instead? What if you listened more than you talked?
However we choose to bridle our words, the important thing is that we find some way to control them. Because, otherwise… well, actually, I’ll let Lucia tell you. I asked her, “What is it like to ride a horse without a bridle?”
Without a bridle, you are pretty much rolling the dice with a horse. Will it go where you want? Will it run away with you? Who knows!
The same is true with our words. Our words are important – and without doing something to intentionally control them, they’ll just run off on their own.
Instead, friends, let’s pray; let’s intentionally be quiet; as Lucia put it about her horse, let’s show our words who’s boss.
Prone to Wander 
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