Talking to Myself

A Small Thought…about TALKING TO MYSELF

I have a habit of talking to myself. I have done so all my life. Mostly I do it silently, confining my conversation to my mind. But when no one else is around, I sometimes speak out loud.

It can be like I am reading a play, acting all parts. (I don’t usually use different voices, though occasionally…)

I think, I express my thoughts, I respond, I argue, I question, I laugh at my foolishness. Really, I have a lively time in here. It’s like there’s a party in my head, and no one is invited (to paraphrase a terrible old commercial).

It has only recently dawned on me, some 70 years into the conversation, that I am not really alone in here.  There is another person listening in, and often joining in. The wise words are his, the foolish ones mine.  It is not a soliloquy; it is a dialogue.

And now I know who it is. (And you, my reader friend, have probably guessed his identity by now.)

It is, of course, God in here with me.  And now that I realize this, I find I am trying to be more careful in my thoughts, which are actually the words I speak to God in m most candid moments. I need to clean up my act.

When I find myself thinking clever but unkind thoughts about others, I stop myself.  When I am passing silent judgment on the obese, tattooed, pierced folks around me at the store, I try to switch over to a prayer: “Lord, bless them and help them.” That short, six-word prayer is all it takes to shut down my cruel thoughts.  I don’t need to be more specific; I know that God knows what they need, and I know He knows I know. And I know that every one of us needs His help, so I add “And Lord, help me.”

It helps.

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