Jr. High (or Middle School for those not born in the Midwest) is when it started.
I became conscious of my reputation and what happened when I opened my mouth.
My awareness of influence was growing because I noticed people would say things like,
“I wonder what Kaylene will say about that?”
Or
“I’m sure Kaylene will have an opinion.”
Now, I am not sure whether those comments were positive or negative. Given that most of them came from aunts, uncles, and older siblings, I wager they were not always positive.
My tendency to shoot off my mouth and offer my 12 year-old wisdom became my calling card. I had built a reputation.
I had 3 friends who were kind enough to handle it. Everyone else just stayed away.
Even my teachers were affected. During one of those dreaded parent teacher conferences, one teacher shared, “She talks a lot but I wouldn’t give a plug nickel for anything Kaylene says”.
The dictionary defines a plug nickel as a “nearly worthless amount”, for those of you who might not know. I know. I looked it up right away.
Ouch.
It wasn’t until I was in my late 40’s and going through the Soul Care Institute that I felt the extreme power of those words spoken over me, to me, and about me with regard to my mouth and my own voice.
I remember the day. It was the second retreat of our Cohort. I was sitting at the table after lunch just staring out the window at the mountains. To anyone observing me it looked peaceful. In my head there was a cacophony of noise from all the voices who had spoken to me, over me, and about me. It was like one last ditch effort to shut me up. I had struggled with my voice for almost 50 years and the accumulation of doubt, anger, hurt, and confusion was deafening.
Gwen came to sit next to me. She asked me simply, “What’s going on?”.
Very haltingly, and through deep sobs, I began to tell her of my struggle and the pain I was feeling. This was a vulnerable place. I was revealing something I had never exposed to anyone before.
“Why did God make me this way? Why can I not just be quiet? Why can’t I be like other people who just don’t open their mouth and cause trouble, or have opinions?”
Gwen smiled at me with such tender delight. I think I saw the kindness of God in a way I had never before seen. She spoke the words of God to me.
“Your voice is a gift! Your mouth is an instrument that I created! I don’t want you to be quiet. I want you to speak. Open your mouth and let me fill it. Don’t be ashamed because this is how I meant for you to be, my mouth.”
In a flash, I recalled a prayer I had prayed in grade school. I know I wanted to be in front of people either singing or speaking. Even then I felt this call. I prayed in my little girl way,
“God, give me stories to tell when I am speaking to people.”.
I was not far enough along in life that I felt I had anything to say. I just knew I had a deep longing to be able to speak meaningful things.
As I sat with Gwen at that table in the barn on the mountain at 9,000 feet, the other voices went quiet and I heard God’s voice.
“Speak, sing. You have my approval. I have given your voice to you from the start of your life. It’s not a mistake. It’s what you are meant to do. Stay with me, spend time with me, and I will give you all the stories you need to tell the people. “