Cheshvan: The Ooze of His Word
Styrax - month of pure speech
I'll be honest with you, this stretch of the year is not my favorite. I'm a spring-summer girl at heart, growing up in South Africa this is suppose to be spring and summer time. If I could hibernate through the coming months of winter and rise again with the first warm light, I would. But perhaps that is exactly why Cheshvan has something to teach me.
Not every season is designed to feel bright. Some seasons teach us how to carry light.
Cheshvan is the second month on the Jewish civil calendar and the eighth on the religious calendar. In the symbolic language, eight becomes a picture of new beginnings, infinity and the God of miracles. Unlike most of the festival-rich months, Cheshvan has no major festival.
It can feel empty. But an empty space is not necessarily a meaningless space. Sometimes what looks like absence becomes room for expectation.
There is a quiet tension in that. After the intensity of Tishrei, after the appointed celebrations and movement of the previous season, Cheshvan brings us back to ordinary life. The hand goes back to the plow. The soil gets turned. Seed gets sown. Rain falls. Much of what matters most begins underground, where nobody is applauding it.
Prepare the soil
Perhaps this is the invitation: prepare your soil, sow your seed and wait for the rain. We are often impatient with hidden seasons because hidden growth is difficult to measure. We want evidence. We want movement we can point to.
We want the fruit before we have learned how to tend the roots. But Scripture repeatedly gives us images of God working in places we cannot see. A seed disappears into soil before it becomes visible as a plant.
Jesus speaks of the kingdom in seed language. The work of formation often begins beneath the surface. This is not passivity. The farmer still prepares the ground and sows. But the farmer cannot command the seed to grow by anxiety.
What are you planting with your attention, your habits and your words while nothing seems to be happening?
This is also a season of increasing darkness in the northern hemisphere, shorter days and longer nights. Rather than treating darkness as something that must be denied, we can ask what it requires of us. The Christian calling is not to pretend darkness does not exist. Jesus calls His people light in the midst of it.
SPEECH THAT GIVES LIFE
Bring light into the dark on purpose. Not by becoming loud. Not by reacting to every problem. Not by having an opinion about everything. Light is often quiet. A lamp simply illuminates what is already there. A truthful word can do the same.
Which brings me to Styrax , pure speech. The original language connects the material to the Hebrew word Nâtâph, “to ooze.” The image is striking because oozing is not the same as forcing. It is a flow that comes from within and makes its way outward.
What if the people of God became so saturated with the Word that His character began to flow through our speech?
What if our words carried His breath rather than simply the temperature of our emotions?
The New Testament gives us a deep theology of speech. Creation begins with God speaking. John begins his Gospel by naming Christ as the Word. Paul reminds us that there is one God, the Father, from whom all things come, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things exist (1 Corinthians 8:6).
Christian speech therefore begins with receiving rather than performing. We are not the source. We respond to the Source.
Our words are seed. That does not mean every sentence is a magical command that forces the universe to obey us. Scripture does not teach that we control reality by saying the correct words. It teaches something more sober and more powerful: our speech reveals what is forming within us, shapes relationships, directs attention, and can either participate in life or participate in destruction.
Jesus tells us that the mouth speaks from the abundance of the heart. James warns about the power of the tongue. Paul tells believers to speak what builds up and gives grace. This is not merely about “positive speech.” It is about becoming people whose words are increasingly aligned with the character and truth of Christ.
WHAT IS FORMING IN YOU?
Every day you have a choice: will your words be revelation, or reaction? Reaction is immediate. It is often fueled by fear, irritation, insecurity, exhaustion or the need to be right.
Revelation is received. It is tested. It is brought into alignment with Scripture, wisdom, love and the fruit of the Spirit. This does not mean becoming silent or avoiding hard conversations.
Pure speech is not polite speech at all costs. Jesus was direct. The prophets were direct. Paul was direct. But truth without love can become another form of violence, while love without truth becomes sentimentality.
The invitation is to let Christ govern both what we say and how we say it.
Think about what happens in your body when you are about to speak from reaction. The jaw tightens. Breath shortens. The heart rate changes. The nervous system prepares for confrontation or defense.
That is useful information, but it does not have to become the driver. A pause can create space between sensation and speech. In that space, discernment can return.
This is where sensory practice becomes more than an aesthetic experience.
Smell the Styrax. Slow your breathing. Feel your feet on the ground. Let the physical act interrupt the momentum of reaction. Then ask: “Jesus, what would it look like for my speech to come from Your heart rather than my fear?” The body is not the authority over truth; it can, however, help us notice the state from which we are about to speak.
I chose Styrax for this month because of that image of overflow. We do not want to spend our lives trying to manufacture Christian language while our inner life remains untouched.
We want the Word to become so deeply rooted in us that His righteousness, love, mercy and truth begin to flow naturally through our lives. And this brings us back to the hidden work of Cheshvan. Before the seed appears above the ground, something is already happening underneath. Before pure speech becomes visible in a conversation, God may be doing hidden work in the heart.
Before a person responds differently, there may be months of learning to pause, listen, repent, forgive and receive.
The empty month may not be empty at all. It may simply be quiet enough for you to notice what is growing.
A PRACTICE FOR CHESHVAN
For one week, pay attention to the first words that come out of your mouth when you are tired, surprised, disappointed or challenged.
Do not shame yourself and do not try to perform perfection. Simply notice. Before an important conversation, pause and take three slow breaths. Smell the Styrax if you have it, and pray: “Let my speech carry Your breath.” Then choose one sentence that is true, necessary and loving.
At the end of the week, ask: What kinds of words came most easily? What was I planting? Where did I speak from fear? Where did I speak from love? What did God reveal about the soil of my heart?
AN ACT OF ANOINTING
Anoint yourself as an act of faith, not superstition. The oil does not purify your speech by itself, and it does not give you spiritual power apart from Christ. Rather, let the physical act become a declaration: my mouth belongs to God. My words are submitted to Him. I want my speech to become an instrument of truth, grace and life.
PRAYER
Father, You are the source of all things, and Jesus Christ is Lord over all. Teach me to receive Your Word before I rush to produce my own. Purify the places in me where fear, anger, insecurity or pride have been governing my speech.
Put a guard over my mouth without making me afraid to speak truth. Teach me when to be silent, when to speak, when to confront, when to comfort and when simply to listen. Let the life of Christ become so deeply rooted in me that His love, righteousness, wisdom and truth flow through my words.
In the hidden places, prepare my soil. In the dark places, teach me to carry light. And when I speak, let my speech be shaped by Your breath.
Amen.
CALL TO ACTION
This Cheshvan, don't try to become someone who never says the wrong thing. Become someone who is increasingly governed by Christ before you speak. Prepare the soil. Receive the Word. Notice your reactions. Pause before you release them. Then practice speaking what is true, necessary and life-giving. If this invitation is meeting you in a season that feels quiet, hidden or dark, share it with someone who may need permission to recognize that hidden does not mean absent. And if you have a story about learning to let Christ reshape your words, I would love to hear it. Let your speech ooze with His breath.
May the Light of Christ teach you to receive time as a place of encounter, not merely a container for activity.
TanYah | El-Nahara
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