Its not entirely my own fault. I've got a hearing disability that appears to have been passed down from my mother to her children and grandchildren. And since I don't hear well, perhaps I talk much louder than what might be socially acceptable. Perhaps!
But, that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least I know no one can ever say they didn't hear what I said. How in the world could they miss it, with a mouth such as mine?
I like to be heard. (Don't we all?)
Of course, I particularly like it when others respond positively to the words that I try my darndest to choose very carefully. But, even at those times when positive responses aren't immediately obvious, I'm fairly certain that my verbalizations have the potential to cause others to, at the very least, give my ideas thoughtful consideration.
From time to time though, I feel like a voice in the wilderness.
I'm not too fond of those times when my voice is lonesome ... when my voice desperately longs for the company of other voices. That would be music to my ears (via my hearing aids).
Loneliness envelopes my voice on occasion, and drags it into the wilderness when I'm speaking up for the unborn. Not always, but occasionally.
Nevertheless, I will passionately continue to open my big mouth wide in a deliberate pursuit to save the precious lives of Jesus' little ones.
Jesus loves His little children.
With purposeful determination to make my actions speak even louder than my words, and my unwavering pledge to be a voice for the unborn - a very loud voice - I'm leaving Saturday for the Care Net Conference in Grapevine, Texas, where I'll be exhibiting for four days and selling my book, "Pregnant at 16."
Thank you, Jesus, for my big mouth.
