Slow to Speak

I love half empty restaurants. Actually, the emptier it is, the happier I am. I never used to pay attention to these things, back in the "have as many kids as I have hands" days, but now that I'm at the point where bi-minute headcounts are necessary, I love knowing that we'll be able to find a table quickly and easily.

Tonight was no exception. We filed into our favorite kid-friendly restaurant around supper time, a little skip to my step as I realized that there was no line in front of us. I held Aimee's hand on one side, and in the other I clutched the key to our ability to eat out: six neatly clipped "Kids Eat Free" coupons. This awesome buffet is the only place within a 20 mile radius that we can justify, because all nine of us manage to eat for approximately $24.00. You just can't beat that deal.

Managing to quiet the kids, I waited patiently for the cashier to arrive. Once she got there, I read through my well-memorized script. "Nine people, two adults, seven kids, here are my six kids eat free coupons, the baby is under two." I smiled brightly and handed her my check card, waiting for the beautiful $24.37 to appear on the cash register screen.

My expression changed quickly, however, when instead of taking my card, she handed back two of my precious coupons.

"It's two each," she said quietly.

I could feel anger building in my chest as I retorted, "They always have taken them before!" Who was she to tell me that I could only use four of my six coupons? This was not The Way It Was Supposed To Work.

"Some people do it differently," she acknowledged softly, nodding her head and taking my card.

"Well," I snipped, "That is good to know." Man, I was mad. So I'd just had the misfortune of getting the one employee who didn't feel like taking all my coupons? Did she used to work at one of the restaurants that love to put in bold letters, "Kids Eat Free" while writing in tiny letters, "Two children per adult"? I might have managed not to go on a wordy tirade, but I'm sure she could tell from my expression that I was upset.

Imagine my confusion, then, when the cash register popped up my favorite $24.37. For a split second, I was elated. "See what speaking up gets me?" I thought proudly. "She went ahead and gave me the deal I deserved! Sometimes we just have to speak our mind quickly in order to get what we want."

Boy was I happy as I left and walked into the eating area....for about seven steps. That's how many steps it took for my brain to catch up with my ego.

"Oh, shoot!" I thought, literally hanging my head as I got to our table.

The cashier hadn't been trying to cheat me, she'd been trying to *help* me. "It's two each," she'd said, reminding me that the fine print at the bottom actually says, "Two children per coupon." She had handed the last two back to me because I didn't need them...all seven of my children had been covered by the first four.

"They always have taken them before," I'd snapped, completely misunderstanding her.

Sweetly, she'd responded, "Some people do it differently." Yeah, she was right. Most people took all my coupons, not going to any length to show me that I could save a few for later.

This lady had gone out of her way to help me, and what did she get in response? Anger. Bitterness. Attitude. All because I opened my mouth before I used my brain.

Our pastor spoke on this very subject last Sunday. He talked about James 1:19: "This you know, my beloved brethren. But everyone must be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger." (NASB)

Slow to speak. Slow to Anger. I did neither of those things tonight. And as a result, Christ's light was not reflected from me. Maybe I didn't rant and rave, but I made it obvious that I was angry. Undeserved anger.

I decided as I sat at the table that I need not only to be slow to speak, I also need to be quick to shut up. I need to take a breath before I take action. As God's Word says, I need to be quick to hear.

And we all know we can't hear anything if we're the one talking.