Sticks and Stones...

may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. We all know that little ditty from childhood, but in reality, it is absolutely false. Anyone who has ever spent time around kids on a playground know that this isn't true. Words are powerful. And they can hurt. Deeply. As soon as a toddler learns to speak, they instinctively lock onto the most powerful word in their limited vocabulary, "No!" To these little ones learning to assert independence, this word becomes one of the few weapons available to them. And as their vocabulary grows, so does their dependence upon words to control, even to wound.

Although as we grow, we learn how to better control our words, we also become much more precise in brandishing them as weapons. Instead of lashing out haphazardly at anyone and everyone, we often aim with exact precision directly at the heart of our victim. But the harder truth is that often our words hurt not because we intentionally direct them, but because we have spoken carelessly, without thought. I find weighing my words carefully to be a constant struggle. There are many reasons why, often just because I am tired or in a hurry or just babbling mindlessly. By all accounts, I am a fairly well-spoken person, and yet I often find myself regretting words spoken hastily or carelessly. I often don't even realize that I have offended until the person with whom I am speaking responds defensively, or shuts down emotionally. I have hurt. I have wounded.

It is not surprising that my mouth often gets me into trouble. In the book of James, we are warned about the destructive power of the tongue:

 ² We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect, able to keep their whole body in check.

³ When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. ⁴ Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. ⁵ Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. ⁶ The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.

⁷ All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, ⁸ but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

The real issue as laid out in James is one of self-control, which is a Fruit of the Spirit. So often I am quick to speak, when instead I should be slow to speak. I should never wield words carelessly, even in intimate conversation with close friends. Many times I just want to speak and be heard, to be understood, to share my thoughts when I should, rather, listen. And think. And process. And pray. Before I open my mouth. I suppose conversations would be a little more awkward, but it would be much wiser.

The flip side of this, however, is that we each also have a responsibility to not take offense. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul's eloquent depiction of love states that love "is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs." Although I most definitely need to reign in my tongue (and often my brain), it is also true that each of us should be less quick to take offense. Grace is an amazing thing. When we show grace to each other, then we are both freed up from the fear of hurting, of being imperfect. The power of words goes both ways. We are to use them wisely and sparingly, but we are also not supposed to give them more power than they deserve. So yes, in some ways, that little ditty has some truth to it. "Words will never hurt me" if I don't give them that power. If I choose a life of love and grace and forgiveness. Some words will hurt no matter what, but choosing to love and forgive is the quickest way to healing.