I’m listening to a Ecclesia podcast of James 3:1-12, which relates how words impact our reality. Spoken communication is our basis for how we think of ourselves, how we trust others, and how we remember the past. Loren remembers the reality of relationships fracturing, people dying, and histories impacted by careless words. And James defines “poisonous words” as anything that is untrue or unloving. Wow. And the lasting impact is obvious; to not expect fresh and salt water from the same spring.
I’m also touched by how we see ourselves as a product of a lifetime 0f words we hear. I think of the friends who have been built up by their parents all their lives: You are beautiful, you can do anything you want to, I’m so proud of you. Starkly contrasted by people who have been ignored or experienced a litany of negativity: You are worthless, you can’t do it, or the worst yet I wish I’d never had kids. Wow.
For the past few weeks I’ve been reliving a moment of severe criticism. Although not malicious, the lack of understanding and love in its delivery has wreaked havoc on my emotional state. I’ve withdrawn harshly, and I don’t know how to repair the relationship. After feeling the harsh opinion, I don’t know if I can hope for grace to flow from the same person who brought me to my knees.
Loren says “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will kill us.” Or give us life?
Along with the feelings of wreckage, I pick up my cell phone and listen to the accolades of my friend George. George was a good friend in Texas, affectionately called my “Houston Dad.” He calls every few weeks, and if I let him go to voicemail, he leaves a message of encouragement and praise. Sometimes he goes on for ages, making me blush and calling me a beloved daughter. Sometimes he sings and reads poetry. And I save them in my voicemail, knowing that I can go back to his encouragement when I need a reminder.
The end of Loren’s message challenges listeners to spend a day in truth, love, and humility. His message calls us to not brag about ourselves of defend ourselves, to refuse gossip or cutting words. This would reveal our pride, our willingness to break people, and the state of our hearts. How glaring would this be in my day. I’m torn, as I have interviews for graduate school tomorrow. The impression I give tomorrow could dictate where my future will go. I feel like I have to sing my own praises.
But at the same time, if I can’t spend tomorrow in honesty, kindness, and humility, I shouldn’t be in graduate school.
