A Tale of Two Tongues
For the most part, Tess is very well-behaved and has good manners. But, I have to admit, when it comes to food, all bets are off. Just the other day, I had my dinner plate sitting in my lap. I turned to say something to Jason, and when I turned back, I spied a certain tongue licking at my food. I promptly corrected her, but it was difficult since Jason was laughing at her antics. In his best "Tess impression," he said, "But Mommy, you know my tongue has a mind of its own." And suddenly, there was a heavenly thump in the back of my head. How often does my tongue have a mind of its own?
The Other Half of the Prayer
Most mornings before I leave my devotion time, I close my eyes and whisper, "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). It's a prayer that has become as natural to me as breathing. The first part makes perfect sense. I want the actual words coming out of my mouth to honor God. Simple enough.
But recently, as I sat on my beanbag in my office, I paused mid-prayer. What exactly am I asking when I pray for the "meditation of my heart" to be acceptable?
The word "meditation" in Hebrew (hagion) refers to our innermost thoughts, ponderings, and even mutterings. It's what we chew on mentally throughout the day, the internal dialogue constantly running through our minds.