The Snapping Jaws

Now that I’ve heard the voice of God at least a few times, I’m finding it easier to not be fooled by other voices. The other voices, of course, say they are God, too - that is, they say they are important and of consequence - that I must listen to them and follow their chain of logic in order to get to some kind of goodness. But I can tell they are not God by their tone of voice. They tend to be scornful, indignant, belittling, angry. Or they are hurt, needy, betrayed. They want to make someone wrong - either me or someone else, or some “they”, or some system. They tempt me to argue with them, but if I argue with them, they have won, for to engage them is to say there’s a power apart from God.

So instead of arguing with them, I tag them. I call them “the snapping jaws.” (Mrs. Eddy calls them “animal magnetism.”) Then I can tell that, though they say otherwise, they are not God’s voice. They are not my voice; they are not someone else’s voice. They may snap and try to take bites out of me or others or our harmony, but they have no substance, so they can’t deplete me or anyone. They win for as long as I don’t recognize them as the snapping jaws. They win if I think someone else is being stupid or mean or insensitive. They win if I think I have to do something to fix someone or myself. But when I acknowledge God’s presence and the inherent perfection of being that comes from that fact, the snapping jaws shrivel up. Their tenacious grip on my attention falls away, and I no longer need to answer to them.

God is never disgusted or disappointed in me, or in any one of Her children. God doesn’t need to speak harshly to me to make me shape up. God is Love, and God’s voice is always loving. Love doesn’t need the manipulative tools of belittling words. Whether such words say they are my voice disapproving of others, or others’ voices disapproving of me, or me fed up with myself, they are not of God, so they have no life. They are the snapping jaws, and they can snap away at the air but they can’t touch me or anyone else. In the quiet that rises when they fall still, I can hear God’s lovely truth.