Words

 "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. " James 3:9-10

 

As part of the worship service at the church I attend when I’m in Sherman, the pastor gives a children's sermon. A couple weeks ago, as the children gathered around Pastor Neil on the front steps of the sanctuary, he asked them if they had ever heard the saying "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Immediately, one of the kids replied, "That's a lie!" I will never forget the look on that little boy's face. His expression was one mixed of incredulous disdain, amazed that anyone could be stupid enough to believe such a thing, and deep pain, revealing that even at his young age this little boy had been hurt by another person's words.

I am convinced that the very same expression could have been found on James' face as he wrote the words in James chapter 3. You see, James, like the little boy at church, was well aware of the power of words. Throughout my life I have been taught and reminded how my words have the power to heal and build others up, or to tear down and destroy. I know that, yet I am constantly finding myself speaking words that are hurtful and destructive. "My brothers and sisters, this should not be."

I like words. ...a lot. I love to talk and to write. I see instrumental music as a break before the words come back. Things with numbers frustrate me. Math is pure torture (which is ironic since I'm a business major). As a many of you know, I had to take calculus this semester and I can honestly say it was one the most unpleasant thing I've ever had to do in my life. I have never studied so hard or spent so much time complaining about something before. But, while taking basic calculus was certainly character building, I've learned more about my love of words through silence this past semester.

You see for as much as I loathe math, you can be certain that I dislike silence even more. Silence: The thought alone makes me squirm. I don't like it. I never have and I never will. To say that silence makes me uncomfortable would be a gross understatement. For me, silence is pure torture. (I mean come on it's the complete absence of words, or any sound at all!) And yet, it is through silence that God has been teaching me about the actual power behind the words I love so much.   

You know what they say about not truly appreciating something until you lose it?  Well friends that is 100% true. Earlier this semester I lost my voice completely. Now when I say "lost it completely", I mean COMPLETELY—as in all the way, absolutely, wholly, entirely and totally gone. 

I couldn't sing.

I couldn't talk.

For a while, I literally was not able to phonate and therefore could not make ANY sound whatsoever. It was a traumatic experience.  I never really understood how much of my identity and self-worth I placed in my voice until that awful week, but the really eye-opening thing about the experience was the way it forced me to think about how and what I choose to say.

You see, when you physically can’t make a sound, or when it’s hurts to talk, you become keenly aware of what you choose, and choose not, to say.  Normally, I don’t take the time to really think before I speak; I just say whatever pops into my head. So it was incredibly frustrating not being able to give my opinions, top that story, or fire off that witty comeback.  But because of all the extra effort speaking required, the things I did say, were carefully thought out to be 1) efficient, clear and concise 2) relevant and necessary 3) kind and beneficial. When forced to review every single thing I said in this way, I began to realize just how many mean, hurtful, or simply unnecessary things I say in a given day. I realized that many of the sassy comments (ya, you know the Alena-isms I’m talking about), the playful putdowns, and sarcastic remarks that make up most of what I say every day, really just weren’t worth it. 

And I began to wonder, how would my life—and the lives of the people around me be changed if I ALWAYS chose my words that carefully? If I made sure that every little single thing I said was used to bless, heal, and build others up, and not to curse, hurt, or tear them down? Can you imagine the impact those words could have our broken hurting world? It's certainly something I'd like to see, and so I've been making an effort to really think before I speak. It hasn't been easy and I can't say that I've been overly successful, but I am going to keep trying because, as I've mentioned before, words are powerful and how we use them really can make all the difference in the world.