Saturday, October 16, 2010
Echoing Words
“Death and life are in the power of the tongue,
and those who love it will eat its fruit.” Proverbs 18:21
I love words. I write them, I read them, curse them, believe them and hang on them.
Words are powerful. Words are like a super hero who has the choice to do good or evil. They have the ability to heal a festering wound, the authority to devastate, or the strength to support and levitate. The scariest trait of words is their staying power. We all have words that echo in our head from decades past.
Sometimes words can transform you. Jason and I were sitting by my grandpa’s pond on a sunny day. I was not sure about him and he was sure about me. My wall was high and he was scrambling to break through. He leaned in, cornered me and gently said in raw honesty, “I want to take care of you.” The words were like an earthquake that shook my tall brick wall to the ground. Floods of tears held back by expert masonry work spilled over right onto his lap. Those words were the foundation of a lasting bridge between he and I.
Sometimes we don’t know what words we are going to hear. We wait for words of hope and hope if they aren’t what we want to hear, we will be ok. Words can shake you, knock the air out of your being and leave you lost. My family’s familiar faces did not comfort me that day. In fact, they did not look familiar. My tall standing father was slumped, he looked alone. Whiffs of bleach, squeaks of tennis shoes, constant ringing of an office phone seemed to go on for days as my family sat for an hour in the waiting room. The doctor came out to tell us the news, the words came at us like a slow and steady tsunami. We could see it coming and knew it could kill yet, had no where to run. The words that my fifteen year old brother had cancer devastated more than our home. The words cut up the inside of our hearts and scattered the pieces to lands we had never traveled and weren't sure we'd have the strength to go. As I watched my cousin hold up my father with a hug, we all knew that that this was a moment where silence held more power than words.
Then there are times when someone’s words set you free. Not too long ago, I felt like Eeyore, it seemed everywhere I went I couldn’t get out from an oppressive dark cloud. I felt down on myself. Why was life so full of adventure when I was younger? Life was suddenly so predictable. My faith used to be unwavering. Now I found myself doubting. I was skinnier and more smiley. Now my jeans don’t fit and serious thoughts painted my face. My goals and career seemed close within reach before. Now I am in school and my career is somewhere down a distant road. I felt imprisoned to the question…”why was life more exciting before?" Why have I allowed myself to take a step back when I should be leaps forward?” I never imagined myself moving “backwards” in life. Still, no matter the circumstances of life, I knew I had grown into a woman who knew better than she knew before. I wouldn’t have gone back to the old person I was because I had learned so much but according to the world around me, it looked as if I had fell into a pit and was stuck until someone threw me a rope to climb out. The rope came to me as I was sitting in class listening to my brilliant professor. I found that many of his words were beginning to poke holes of sunlight through my dark cloud. Each week, I “hung” on his words of truth and inspiration. One morning, his words were like a hand which reached deep into my heart grabbed a hold of it, shook out all of the lies and like a potter, began to pat truth and hope all over it. He said, “You know, sometimes it’s hard to tell if you are backslidden or if you are on a learning curve. “ An aha moment! A moment when everything that looked messed up was instantly deemed an abstract masterpiece of art. Suddenly, my life was something I was confidently proud of, even if the onlookers couldn’t see the rhyme in the reason. I finally could see it clearly…I was on a learning curve. My professor’s words set me free to ride the curve like a roller coaster, letting go of my grip and raising my hands high.
I will never take my words for granted. My words are my gift from my creator. My voice is my superpower. Our words tell our story. They assist us to love. They are our power to heal. They enable us to freedom, and they lead us to truth.
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