I’ve been reflecting on this lately. Words are powerful.
Yet they are thrown about carelessly. By politicians and reporters. By spouses, children, parents, friends. By me.
From the shootings in Tuscon, to moments in my own home, there have been many things lately that have me pondering the power of words.
Their words. My words. His Word.
And regardless of my thoughts about politics, politicians and the way words are thrown around that arena, something I know for sure is that I have control over only one person’s words, and in my arena, those words can break down and wound or they can build up and nurture.
If you know me well, you know that I am a talker. And after praying and examining this facet of my personality, I’ve come to the conclusion that my talking doesn’t root from a place of selfishness or come with an intent to hurt (more so from a desire to connect), but when I’m not thoughtful about my words (and the amounts that are pouring fourth at a given moment) they can still be selfish. Not only can my actual words make a difference to those I love, but the ways in which I use them- that matters too.
Especially in my role as Mama, I find myself fighting against this ugly abuse of words daily. This is the part of me that is impatient, annoyed, quick to react, selfish. This part of me shouts words, like I am two years old myself. Like I don’t even care what profound affect they might have on my most precious treasures. Do I really want to shape my children with these things?
A conclusion I’ve reached is that sometimes silence is best.
Peaceful, powerful silence.
Because how much more powerful are our words made by the space that rests between them?
In a moment of silence, The Word throws me a lifeline. Carries me through with grace. Gives me the wisdom, patience, ability to utter words that build when all I want to do is throw figurative stones towards the things that grate me. If you let them, stones sharpen stones. So I fortify myself, embrace the hard things that grate me, and I find myself sharpened.
In moment of silence, I learn. How my loved one is really feeling. How to better love them.
And most importantly, in a moment of silence, I learn to listen to the small, still voice of God.
Oh, what a profound influence His Words have on mine! In dark silence, Words wash me down at the end of a long day. Cleanse me of the grit and grime of the day and allow me to start anew once again. His Words turn dish washing and laundry folding moments into moments of joy and gratitude.
His Word is powerful.
And it changes the way I use mine for the better.
Lord, please grant me the grace to use my words for good today.