Four hundred men were coming down the hillside with their swords already strapped on, and the man at the front had not slept well.
For months David and his band had camped in the wilderness near Carmel, where a wealthy man named Nabal kept three thousand sheep and a thousand goats. David’s men had protected Nabal’s shepherds from raiders, day and night, and never taken so much as a lamb. Now it was shearing time, a season of feasting and generosity, and David had sent ten young men with a courteous request for whatever provisions Nabal could spare.
Nabal’s answer was a public insult. “Who is David? and who is the son of Jesse? there be many servants now a days that break away every man from his master” (1 Samuel 25:10). In other words: your master is a runaway slave, and I owe him nothing. The young men came back and repeated every word.
David’s response took one sentence. “Gird ye on every man his sword” (1 Samuel 25:13). He swore that by morning not one male in Nabal’s household would be left alive. He had been genuinely wronged. He had protected this man’s property and been repaid with contempt. And in the space of a single report, the future king of Israel, the man after God’s own heart, was on his way to slaughter an entire household over an insult.
Meanwhile, at the house, one of Nabal’s servants had gone to Nabal’s wife, Abigail. “Evil is determined against our master,” he told her, and then he added a sentence about Nabal that says everything about him: “he is such a son of Belial, that a man cannot speak to him” (1 Samuel 25:17).
Abigail did not wait. She loaded donkeys with two hundred loaves, wine, five dressed sheep, grain, raisins and two hundred cakes of figs, and she rode out toward the hills. Somewhere on the slope, in the shelter of the mountain, she came face to face with David and his four hundred men. She got down from her donkey and fell on her face in the dust in front of him.
PunchlineWhat happened next depended entirely on one thing: whether a furious man with a sword in his hand could still be spoken to.
What maturity looks like
Emotional maturity is often misunderstood. In many of our homes and cultures, a mature person is someone who does not show feeling. The strong man does not cry at his father’s burial. The good wife swallows her hurt and smiles. The pastor never admits he is discouraged. Feelings are treated as weakness, and maturity means hiding them.
That is not the picture Scripture gives us. Jesus was the most mature human being who has ever lived, and He felt everything. He wept openly at a friend’s grave. He was moved with compassion for crowds. He was angry in the temple and grieved by hard hearts. In Gethsemane He told His friends that His soul was exceeding sorrowful. Jesus did not suppress His emotions. Yet His emotions never governed Him. He felt fully, and He responded freely, out of love for His Father and obedience to His will.
That is the shape of emotional maturity. It means recognising a feeling without surrendering every response to it. The mature person still gets angry, frightened, hurt and discouraged. But there is space between the feeling and the action. In that space, he can listen, think, pray and choose.
Notice too that maturity is something that grows. Paul says, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things” (1 Corinthians 13:11). A small child who is frustrated throws the toy. A tired toddler screams. We expect that of children. What is troubling is when adults with titles, families and ministries still respond the same way, only with bigger toys and louder voices.
The letter to the Hebrews describes mature believers as “those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil” (Hebrews 5:14). By reason of use. Exercised. The word is the one from which we get gymnasium. Maturity is trained, the way a muscle is trained, through repeated practice. No one becomes emotionally mature by reading one article. It is built in a thousand small moments where we choose, again and again, not to let the feeling make the decision.
Slow to wrath, great understanding
Proverbs puts the contrast between maturity and immaturity in a single verse:
He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding: but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly.
The Hebrew behind these phrases is vivid. Slow to wrath is literally “long of nostrils.” In Hebrew idiom, anger was pictured as heat in the nose, the flaring of the nostrils when a person is furious. A person with a “long nose” takes a long time to heat up. The flame has a long way to travel before it reaches the surface. Hasty of spirit, by contrast, is literally “short of spirit.” Such a person has very little distance between the provocation and the explosion.
Then notice what each is connected with. The slow person is “of great understanding.” Patience and understanding go together. Because he does not react instantly, he has time to understand: to see the situation more fully, to consider the other person, to weigh what is really happening. The hasty person “exalteth folly.” The word means to lift up or put on display. His hastiness puts his folly on show for everyone to see.
David, coming down the hill with his sword, was hasty of spirit. Nabal’s insult and David’s oath were separated by a single verse. He was about to exalt folly in the most terrible way imaginable.
Proverbs gives us another picture of the person without this governance:
He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.
In the ancient world, a city without walls was helpless. Any raiding party could walk in and take whatever it wanted. A person who has no rule over his own spirit is like that. Every provocation walks straight in. Every insult, every frustration, every disappointment gets inside and takes control. He is at the mercy of whatever happens to him.
By contrast, “He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city” (Proverbs 16:32). There is a greater strength than military conquest. A general who captures a city has done something impressive. A person who governs his own spirit has done something greater. Most of us admire the first kind of strength. God values the second.
NuggetMaturity does not mean feeling less. It means there is space between what you feel and what you do, and in that space you can listen, pray and choose.
Recognising the feeling before it decides
Governing your responses begins with recognising what you are feeling, and recognising it early.
Consider a woman I will call Ladi. She is a vice-principal at a secondary school in Kaduna, a capable and respected educator. One Tuesday evening she arrives home after a difficult PTA meeting where a parent criticised her in front of everyone. NEPA has taken the light. The generator will not start. She sits at the dining table with her laptop to finish a report that is due in the morning, and her nine-year-old son, running past, knocks a cup of water across the keyboard.
Ladi screams. “You are so careless! You spoil everything you touch!” Her son freezes, then runs to his room in tears.
What happened? It would be easy to say that Ladi simply lost her temper. But her anger did not begin with the cup of water. It had been building for hours: the humiliation at the PTA meeting, the exhaustion of the day, the frustration with the generator, the pressure of the report. By the time the water spilled, she was already full. The cup was simply the last drop.
Very often our biggest reactions are not really about the thing in front of us. They are about everything that has accumulated before it. That is why recognising the feeling early matters so much. If Ladi had noticed, as she walked in the door, I am humiliated, exhausted and under pressure, she might have been able to say to her family, “I have had a very hard day. Please give me half an hour.” She might have eaten something before opening the laptop. She might have moved the laptop away from the corridor where the children run.
Learning to recognise your feelings is a skill, and it can be practised. Many people notice the body first: a tight jaw, a racing heart, clenched hands, a hot face. Others notice their thoughts speeding up, or their voice rising. Learn your own signals. When you notice them, name the feeling to yourself and to God: Lord, I am angry. I am frightened. I am humiliated. That simple act of naming often creates enough space to prevent the explosion.
It also helps to know your patterns. Are you more reactive when you are hungry, tired or in pain? When you feel disrespected? When you are running late? When certain people are involved? None of these excuses a harmful response. But knowing them lets you prepare. A person who knows that he is short-tempered after a long day can decide in advance not to start difficult conversations at nine o’clock at night.
Wisdom that can be intreated
James contrasts two kinds of wisdom, and the contrast is especially clear under pressure:
Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom. But if ye have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not, and lie not against the truth. This wisdom descendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish. For where envying and strife is , there is confusion and every evil work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace.
“Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom.” James says that real wisdom is visible. It shows itself in conduct, in the way a person lives and speaks. And it has a particular quality: meekness. In Greek the word is prautes. It was used of a powerful animal that had been trained, such as a horse that responds to the rider. It describes strength under control, not weakness.
Then James describes the counterfeit. It comes from “bitter envying and strife,” and James says it is “earthly, sensual, devilish.” Its fruit is “confusion and every evil work.” This kind of wisdom may be very clever. It may win arguments. But it leaves chaos behind it.
Now look closely at the description of the wisdom from above in verse 17: “first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated.” That phrase easy to be intreated translates a single Greek word that appears nowhere else in the New Testament. It means open to reason, willing to yield, persuadable. The wise person can be spoken to. He can hear an objection, consider a correction and change course.
That is one of the clearest marks of emotional maturity. The immature person, under pressure, becomes rigid. He cannot hear anything that contradicts what he is feeling. He interprets every attempt to calm him down as an attack. The mature person, even when he is upset, remains willing to listen.
That is exactly what was at stake on that hillside near Carmel. Nabal was “such a son of Belial, that a man cannot speak to him.” The question was whether David had become the same.
The man nobody could speak to
There is a sad story in 1 Kings about Solomon’s son Rehoboam. After Solomon’s death, the people came to the new king and asked him to lighten the heavy burdens his father had laid on them. Rehoboam asked for three days to consider. He consulted the old men who had served his father, and they gave him wise counsel: “If thou wilt be a servant unto this people this day, and wilt serve them, and answer them, and speak good words to them, then they will be thy servants for ever” (1 Kings 12:7).
Then he consulted the young men he had grown up with, and they told him to answer harshly. Rehoboam chose their advice:
And the king answered the people roughly, and forsook the old men’s counsel that they gave him; And spake to them after the counsel of the young men, saying, My father made your yoke heavy, and I will add to your yoke: my father also chastised you with whips, but I will chastise you with scorpions.
“The king answered the people roughly.” Rehoboam was under pressure. He was a new king facing a crowd with demands, and he felt his authority being challenged. Instead of listening, he hardened. Instead of serving, he threatened. And the result was catastrophic. Ten of the twelve tribes of Israel broke away from him, and the kingdom was divided for the rest of its history.
Rehoboam was not without good counsel. He had it, and he heard it, and he rejected it because it did not match the way he felt. Pressure revealed that he was a man who could not really be spoken to.
The same danger exists for all of us, especially those of us with authority. Parents can become people their children cannot speak to. Husbands and wives can become people their spouses no longer try to reason with, because every attempt ends in a row. Pastors and leaders can become people whose staff and members have learned to say only what they want to hear. Proverbs says, “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes: but he that hearkeneth unto counsel is wise” (Proverbs 12:15).
Ask yourself honestly: when you are upset, can people still speak to you? Do your children, your spouse, your colleagues or your church members feel safe telling you something you do not want to hear? Or have they learned that it is better to wait until you calm down, or to say nothing at all?
The willingness to listen under pressure is one of the clearest tests of maturity. It is also one of the most protective habits a person can develop. More than once, God has saved His people from disaster by sending someone with a word they did not want to hear. The question is whether they were still able to receive it.
Owning what you said under pressure
PunchlineEmotional maturity also means accepting responsibility for what you say and do when you fail to govern your responses. And all of us will fail sometimes.
The oldest instinct of fallen humanity is to blame someone else. When God asked Adam whether he had eaten from the forbidden tree, Adam answered, “The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat” (Genesis 3:12). In one sentence he blamed both his wife and God. The woman, in turn, blamed the serpent. Nobody said, “I did it.”
We still do the same. “I would not have shouted if you had listened.” “You know how I get when I am tired.” “She provoked me.” “Anyone would have reacted the same way.” Some of those statements may contain truth. You may have been provoked. You may have been tired. But they are explanations, and very often they are being used as excuses. The mature person says, “Whatever the provocation, my response was my responsibility.”
David, for all his failures, learned to say this. Late in his life, after a sinful decision brought judgement on the nation, he cried out, “Lo, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly: but these sheep, what have they done? let thine hand, I pray thee, be against me” (2 Samuel 24:17). He did not blame his advisers or the circumstances. He placed the responsibility squarely on himself and asked that the people be spared.
What does it look like to own what you said under pressure? It means returning to the person you hurt, as soon as you are calm enough to do it well. It means naming what you did specifically, without softening it: “I screamed at you and called you careless. That was wrong.” It means not adding a but: no “but you should not have been running.” It means asking how they were affected and listening to the answer. And it means considering what needs to change so that it does not keep happening.
This is especially important for parents. Children learn more about emotional maturity from watching how their parents handle their failures than from any lecture about self-control. A parent who never apologises teaches children that power means never having to say sorry. A parent who comes back and says, “I was wrong to shout at you; will you forgive me?” teaches them something that will shape their own homes one day.
Accepting responsibility does not mean wallowing in shame. A forgiven child of God can admit a fault without collapsing, because their standing with the Father does not rest on a perfect record. That security is what makes honest apology possible. The person who feels that every admission of failure is a threat to their worth will defend, deflect and blame. The person who knows they are loved can say, “I was wrong,” and move on to repair.
We must also recognise that some people struggle to govern their responses for reasons that need more than spiritual counsel. Trauma, depression, anxiety disorders, attention difficulties, hormonal changes and some medical conditions can all affect emotional regulation. If you find that your reactions are persistently out of proportion, or that you cannot seem to change despite sincere effort, please speak to a doctor or a qualified counsellor. And if anyone’s inability to govern their anger has made home unsafe for you or your children, your safety comes first. Seek help and protection without delay.
Fruit that grows from a new life
How does a person grow in emotional maturity? Scripture is clear that it cannot be produced by willpower alone. It is the work of the Spirit in a believer’s life:
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. And they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.
Look at what is in the list. Longsuffering, patience that endures provocation for a long time. Gentleness. Meekness, the same strength under control that James spoke of. And temperance, which translates the Greek enkrateia, meaning self-control, inner mastery, holding oneself in. These are exactly the qualities of an emotionally mature person, and Paul calls them fruit.
Fruit is not manufactured. You cannot tie oranges onto a tree and call it fruitful. Fruit grows from the life inside the tree. In the same way, longsuffering and self-control grow from the life of the Spirit within the believer. That is wonderful news for anyone who has tried and failed, again and again, to control their temper by sheer determination. The source of change is God’s life in you.
But notice verse 25: “If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.” The Greek word for walk here means to keep in step, to walk in line, like soldiers marching in formation. We have been given life by the Spirit. Now we are called to keep in step with Him, day by day, decision by decision. The fruit grows as we walk.
And verse 24 reminds us of something important: “they that are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts.” The old ruling power of the flesh has been dealt with at the cross. Your temper is not your master. Your fear is not your king. You belong to Christ. That does not mean the old patterns will vanish overnight. It means they no longer have the right to rule, and you can learn, in step with the Spirit, to say no to them.
What does walking in step look like in ordinary life? It looks like starting the day in God’s presence, so that your heart is anchored before pressure arrives. It looks like pausing to pray, even for a few seconds, when you feel a reaction rising. It looks like getting enough sleep and eating properly, because the body affects the spirit. It looks like inviting a trusted friend or your spouse to tell you honestly when you are reacting badly, and thanking them when they do. It looks like returning quickly to apologise when you fail. Over months and years, these small steps of obedience become a different kind of person.
On the hillside near Carmel, Abigail lay on her face in front of David and began to speak. She took the blame on herself. She acknowledged that Nabal was a fool. And then she said something that reached past David’s anger to the man underneath it. She reminded him that God was going to make him king, and that one day he would not want to look back on this moment with regret: “That this shall be no grief unto thee, nor offence of heart unto my lord, either that thou hast shed blood causeless, or that my lord hath avenged himself” (1 Samuel 25:31).
And David, with his sword in his hand and four hundred armed men behind him, listened.
And David said to Abigail, Blessed be the LORD God of Israel, which sent thee this day to meet me: And blessed be thy advice, and blessed be thou, which hast kept me this day from coming to shed blood, and from avenging myself with mine own hand.
“Blessed be thy advice.” That is the sound of emotional maturity. David was still a man who had been wronged. His anger had been real. But when wisdom came to him in the person of a woman kneeling in the dust, he did not push past her. He heard her. He received the correction. He thanked God for sending her. And he blessed her for keeping him from doing something he would have regretted for the rest of his life.
David turned his men around and went back up the hill. He left Nabal to God. Ten days later, the Lord dealt with Nabal Himself.
The difference between David and Nabal that day was not that one felt angry and the other did not. Both were men with strong reactions. The difference was that one could still be spoken to.
Ask God to make you that kind of person. Let Him grow in you the fruit of His Spirit: patience, gentleness, meekness and self-control. Learn to recognise what you feel before it decides for you. Stay willing to listen, especially when you least want to. And when you fail, as all of us do, go back and take responsibility. You will find, over time, that there is more and more space between the feeling and the response, and that in that space, God is at work.
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- When you are upset, can people still speak to you? Who in your life might say that it is hard to reason with you under pressure?
- What are your early warning signs that a strong emotion is rising: in your body, your thoughts or your voice?
- Which situations most often leave you “hasty of spirit”: tiredness, hunger, disrespect, pressure, certain people? How could you prepare for them?
- How do you usually respond after you have reacted badly: with blame, with excuses, with shame, or with honest responsibility?
- Which fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22-23 do you most need to grow in this season, and what would walking in step with the Spirit look like in that area?
This Week
Each evening this week, take five minutes to review the day. Write down one moment when you felt a strong emotion. Note what you felt, what your body did, how you responded, and whether you remained willing to listen. If you responded badly to anyone, go back to them the next day and own what you said, specifically and without a but. Then ask one trusted person in your home or church this question: “When I am under pressure, is it easy or hard to talk to me?” Thank them for their honest answer, whatever it is.
A Prayer
Father, thank You that Jesus felt everything I feel and was never ruled by it. I confess that I have often been hasty of spirit, and that my reactions have hurt people I love. Grow in me the fruit of Your Spirit: longsuffering, gentleness, meekness and self-control. Teach me to recognise my feelings before they decide for me. Make me easy to be intreated, willing to listen even when I am upset. Send me Abigails when I need them, and give me the humility to say, “Blessed be thy advice.” When I fail, help me to take responsibility quickly and honestly. I belong to Christ, and I will walk in step with Your Spirit. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.