Words

"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality." ~Edgar Allan Poe

A few years ago I found an interesting short piece on the internet titled, "10 Things You Should Never Say to a Guy." The title intrigued me, and the writing was brief so I looked through it and saw an amusing glimpse of quips meant to steer ladies away from conversations that could potentially become disastrous. Among my favorite were:
- "We need to talk,"
- "It's only a game for goodness' sake."
- and my personal favorite, "Do you think she's pretty?" That one can be sticky.

As I navigated away from that page, wasting time no doubt, I found another related article that spoke to me in a more direct way. This article was titled, "10 Things You Should Never Say to a Woman." I knew that I needed to read this page, perhaps print it and add it to my daily morning devotional time as I am the master of ill-timed comments and my flexibility has increased over the years of putting my foot in my mouth. Here are a few:
- "What did you do to your hair?!?!"
- "When are you due?" (I actually asked this of a woman on an elevator, and although I was going to the eleventh floor I exited on the fourth floor, quickly.)
- "You're acting just like your mother/my mother/my ex-girlfriend/wife."

You get the picture. Words have the power to create powerful emotions, set words to music and you can amplify the feelings double or triple-fold. Words are powerful. Once said, they live their own lives beyond our control. They can be twisted, misunderstood, ignored, or even destructive. The illustration of trying to return toothpaste to it's tube is a visual demonstration of the power of words and the life they live on their own when spoken or written, or perhaps even simply thinking some words has a great impact on the psyche of the one who is ecstatic or fuming.

In the April 11th, 2010 edition of the New York Times Book Review section, author Richard Howard asked an important question while reviewing a book titled, Why Translation Matters, by Edith Grossman. The question was simply, does translation matter, digging to the heart of the power of words. Let's face it, much conflict both internal and external begin with words being spoken and subsequently being misunderstood. "Where literature words exists, translation exists. Joined at the hip, they are absolutely inseparable." (New York Times Book Review 4/1/2010 p. 13) emphasis mine.

Words have the power to bring back memories, create feelings, or wound others. Words have the power to bring individuals or places to the present when the person or place is nowhere close. Think of someone you love, and say their name aloud right now. While they may not be within sight, perhaps even miles away, or no longer living on this earth, you've spoken a powerful name that brings that specific being of who that person is or was to you into the present time. The same is true of speaking of someone for whom you owe forgiveness, speaking their name may cause your face to get red, or worse other less gentle words to follow.

We rarely figuratively reach to retrieve words that are pleasant to the hearer: "You look nice tonight," or, "I'm so proud of you," or even three powerful words, "I love you." But, who wouldn't give the most priceless of possessions to have a single, "I hate you!" shouted from shear blinded anger disappear as if it were never said. If such a thing were possible, I wouldn't have a single priceless possession left, and probably none of my arms or legs either.

I remember distinctly the evening that my best friend with whom I grew up, Trey and I were sitting in his backyard. His parents had just gotten a hot tub and we stole a couple of beers from his Dad's refrigerator. We lounged in the warm bubbling water weaving stories of our manly exploits with the colorful language that we thought went with acting older than we were, misunderstanding that true men don't need to talk like sailors, rather, they should watch their tongues as we heard in church. Most of the yarns we spun were filled with complete fabrications of how handy we were with the ladies, if that were true, wouldn't we have had some girls join us that night?

It was then we heard the voice that changed the evening. At the end of a particularly good story of which I have no recollection, we heard from behind a rather large tree in the back yard, "Oh really? Y'all sure are a couple of ladies' men aren't you? And uh, where'd you get the beer?" The voice was familiar and at this moment terrifying. It was the voice of Trey's father who had come home late from work that evening, his mother was out of town on business. We sunk as low as we could in the water to hide from what might be coming.

Trey's father was a Christian man, but not a religious man. He rarely attended church, but Trey and I had begun attending a church in our neighborhood that changed our lives, each in different ways, but that's another story for another time. The last thing his Dad said before he walked into the house was, "As much as you boys go to church, I can't believe I just heard what I'd been listening to for the last ten minutes." And with that he walked inside, and we stayed hidden in the hot tub until we had to crawl out from mere exhaustion. The only solace I found was that he only heard ten minutes of our rambling idiocy.

Words are powerful. They speak truth, and they spew lies. They shape ideas we have of one another, socially, politically, and theologically.

God by His words spoke into existence all that we behold as His creation. The first chapter of Genesis is filled with the phrase, "And God said." By his word God separated light and dark naming them night and day, He separated the water from the sky, He made dry ground, and the sun, and moon, and stars, and creatures of all kinds. Lastly God said, "Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness," Genesis 1:26a TNIV.

We humans, made in God's likeness have the ability to speak as God creatively and lovingly, He gave us that choice. We can use our words as building blocks or bullets. "For out of the overflow of the mouth the heart speaks." Matthew 12:34 TNIV. What is your heart condition, in plenty and in want, in stressful times and rest.

I've mentioned before a time when I saw words wrap around someone like a warm blanket on a frigid day. They came from the mouth of my wife, one of the most loving, accepting, and loyal people I know. If that was not true, my body would still be missing. As Chrissy, then my fiancee, was working with a group of underprivileged youth from the projects in inner-city Dallas I noticed that some of her favorite children were the ones that were treated the worst by their peers. Where they lived was a cruel place, filled with drugs, prostitutes, violence. Very few fathers lived at home, many of the children lived with grandparents and aunts. I noticed that Chrissy often would say to them, "I love you." Three simple words. Words I was fortunate enough to hear throughout my life. I didn't understand, that even when the boys acted tough or responded inappropriately or the girls got embarrassed many were hearing three simply said, but dynamically powerful words, "I love you."

Most every time we had what we called, "Fun Days," we would load up the children in a school bus owned by the college and take trips to different places, the zoo, the Dallas Aquarium, the lake, a lot of times we would simply take them to the college campus and let them play in the gym all morning before we fed them lunch and took them back home. For some of the kids that lunch of bologna and cheese sandwiches and cheetos would be the best and favorite meal of the week. I still get teased when about the time one of my favorite kids, "Pooh," was his nickname came back through the food line with two pieces of bread on his plate. We asked what was wrong and he pointed at me and said, "They wasn't no meat on my sammich! Fat Man ate the meat off my sammich! I ain't eatin' no bread sammich!" From then on, I had a new name thanks to, "Pooh," and he got a double sammich that day.

Ultimately, each time we met altercations, arguments and fights would happen. We usually knew who would be the ones who would be the instigators and we broke up more fights than we cared to count. Physical violence was one of the ways of communication that was seen daily to these young men and women. One chief instigator was a boy named Cory, we always knew he would start a fight with someone, and for some reason Cory decided I was his favorite adult. The same day that I ate the meat from Pooh's sammich was the same day Cory started a fight with two other boys over a game of basketball. I went to handle the situation and found that I was no match for what was happening, when a short, beautiful angel, who later became my wife, marched over to the boys, grabbed Cory in a loving but firm way, while he wiggled and squirmed and tried to get away from her she calmed him down and said, "We love you, but you can't act this way and come back. We love you. We love you." I wonder how many times Cory heard those words and how deeply they sunk into a young but already hardened heart.

I'm a user and sometimes an abuser of words. They are the overflow of my heart. Today, open your eyes wide, listen closely, feel deeply and you will see a chance to say the words to someone that may just be what they needed to hear at just the right time. A kind word is like a pebble thrown into a pond, we never really know how far the ripples travel.