Swiss Army Knives

Posted by Alan Scott on Oct 5, 2011 in Daily Bread | 0 comments

Each Christmas, my task is to buy a $10 man gift for the Christmas exchange on Sherry’s side of the family. Sticks of meat, stupid stuff like mounted talking fish, and tools are usually big hits with the southern Indiana men who are on the receiving end of things.

I begin looking for unique tools sometime in October. I begin to scout Home Depot and Lowes for THE unusual tool that nobody has nor dreamed of (I’m still desperately trying to get “in” with my in-laws). The trend now leans towards tools that can do seven things within one tool. The Swiss Army Knife approach is a lure for cheap tools under ten dollars. I’ve been given those kinds of tools before too. They look great as a gift nearby a lit Christmas tree. Most of the time, however, the practical application is less than desirable. When I need a hammer, I use a hammer. When I need a Phillips head screwdriver, I usually move beyond my 7-tools-in-1 miracle worker, and grab a Phillips head screwdriver. Sometimes the best tools are the ones specifically designed for a specific task.

My tongue was designed for praise. It has, from times past, become somewhat of a Swiss Army Knife, 7-tools-in-1 misnomer. I’ve used my tongue to gossip. It has been a tool of anger. My mouth has become a self-marketing device. My words have been manipulative utensils. My tongue has taken on a very impressive, miracle-working, do-it-all, Swiss Army Knife persona.

But it was designed for praise. I’m not sure it was ever intended as a do-it-all, verbal Swiss Army Knife. In my conflict, in my relationships, on the job, with my wife, as I tell my stories… the purpose and design is always praise. Whatever my tongue doles out, the Designer’s design was to thank, lift up, and honor the name of Jesus (Colossians 3:17).

Sometimes I only use my tongue for praise on Sunday mornings. With the remainder of my week, my mouth becomes a horrible 7-tools-in-one implement to serve me as I see fit. When this happens, my tongue has become relegated for the $10 bin of cheap gifts that will soon become garage sale fodder, or just unsellable trash.

On this day, I wonder how I will use my tongue for it’s intended design. When I lay my head down to finish this day, will I remember my words and be satisfied that the right tool was used the absolute right way… and then rest?