The Power of the Tongue
In my last post, titled "Looking for God," I began briefly sharing about my search for God and how my journey veered to a place of disappointment. I found myself leaving the church and heading down a road that was dark and full of sorrow and loss. I didn’t know it then, but in retrospect, I can see God’s hand in it all and how He used each turn to ultimately lead me back to the foot of the cross.
Friends, when I say, I walked away from church, I don’t want you to think that it was particularly easy for me to do so. I was desperate to find answers to some of the deepest and darkest questions that haunted me. I asked those around me, but all I found were disassociating believers with off-hand responses of, “Why don’t you just pray about it?” Aside from not contributing any genuine resolve, their insensitivity to my problem, their dismissiveness, and their condescending tone further instigated me to walk right out the door.
Upon my going away, I headed straight for the things that I was naturally curious about, but was forbidden from doing. My first mischief was cursing. After all, one has to speak the native language before truly assimilating. Admittedly, the guilty pleasure of those colorful words tinged my tongue like candy, with many flavors encapsulating each new word. Being the creative soul that I am, I even began inventing new ones. When someone angered me in some way, particularly in traffic, I would put the window down and let them have it. The freedom in my exclamations felt invigorating. I actually thought it was helping my anger subside.
But soon after, sparks of anger began to fuel even normal conversations into becoming the absolute worst, and although I was making a lot of new friends, I was losing them just as quickly. I had exchanged holy terms like “patience” and “forgiveness” with irreligious and malicious comebacks. I remember crying once, outside of my friends parking garage, after I told her I hated her. All I really wanted was reconciliation, but I felt so helpless trying to express myself.
I had learned to equate forgiveness with giving others the permission to hurt me.
“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” - Proverbs 18:21 NIV
Friends, the difference in outcome between my unmannerly speech and the “Why don’t you just pray about it?” advice, was honestly, not much in the grand scheme of things. Neither gave the listener, nor the speaker for that matter, any betterment in and of themselves. If our response to someone pouring out their heart to us is to dismiss them with platitudes, then we are not giving them life; especially when we know about the immeasurable power of the word of God. And, if our response to a small offense is fits of rage expressed in expletives, we are definitely not giving someone much room to breathe. Our choice of words needs to be empathetically transformed, so our speech will always be seasoned with salt and full of grace. We hold in our mouths a scalpel that can cut deep, but when used correctly can be a tool for healing. May God help us all with this.
Lastly, curse words also infested the music I listened to, which satiated my ears while I regressed into a secular lifestyle. But we will talk about music, my favorite subject, more broadly in our next devotional.
Peace & Grace
Tsion
Tsion Kebede was born in Ethiopia and has three siblings. She has an associate degree in Life Science from Montgomery College and had completed 11 months of basic Theology at Addis Lidet International Church Bible School. She is a follower of Jesus Christ, a worship leader and an aspiring author.
Have you ever struggled with choosing your words wisely?
Tell us in the comments below.
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