I got invited to event in my home town entitled “Have you ever been walking in treacle country?”

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
(NIV) Rom 12:12

As if I wasn’t already aware of it, for me to talk about myself in public is like walking through treacle. If I am talking about someone else, especially if it is the Lord, I have gained some small amount of confidence because it is not about me.

What I say must point people to Christ, or there’s no point. And in a one to one conversation if pertinent I will use my life experiences to help someone else.

So where the freak were these rules last night. I swear that gob of mine it just decides to go off on a tangent and I just follow in its wake.

And then I forget half of what I was supposed to talk about. I’m bound to mess it up, I only started speaking out loud not so long ago.

No point beating myself up, what’s done is done. Move on and learn to keep it measured and controlled. And in honour of that and everything else, at least this mouth doesn’t belong to me anymore:



my mouth – god bless it
has arms and legs and motors on
at 200 miles an hour
it sprints along faster and faster
vying for a place in the
world mouth games
pink lips moving
yellow teeth gleaming
sharp pointy words burst
without a brain to stop them
it should carry a warning
emblazoned in Red
and there’s always a butt,
usually me, but sometimes you,
smitchy litchy witchy words
callous unthinking brutal words
and whenever you may meet it
to my mouth
don’t forget to say
Shut Up

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