Words Have Power

Earlier in the week, at the bottom of a work-related e-mail exchange, I had a colleague write: “Thanks for all you do. I see all your hard work!” Such a simple statement…but those words have passed through my mind a gazillion times since reading them. “I see all your hard work.” There’s something to being seen. Not glazed over. Not overlooked. But seen. Paid attention to. Valued. In a work environment where I literally don’t see anyone other than my team of five—and that’s if I’m lucky—being seen is a challenge. And yet, this colleague sees me. And my hard work. And I have been working so very hard (as has the entire Teacher Body of the 2020-2021 School Year). Friends—I have said this time and time again, but I will say it again: Words have power. Even to those who don’t claim Words of Affirmation as their primary love language, words are transformational. Specific. True. Intentional words can literally change someone’s life… I have an encouragement folder in my e-mail. It’s full of messages that have encouraged me over the years. My colleague’s message is now in that folder. Friends: May we be writers of messages that make it into one another’s encouragement folders. Amen.

A Bad Feeling

Going back to work today wasn’t too bad. Tomorrow will likely be more difficult because I’ll have less adrenaline. But today was okay…except that I carried an underlying sense of anxiety all day—because of the book that I’m reading.

I’ve read the book before—a clearance book from the Books-A-Million in Columbia—but I don’t remember anything about it. The basic plot is of a twenty-something going home for her brother’s wedding, only her brother is uncertain as to whether or not he should go through with the wedding because he has fallen in love with another woman. He must figure out what to do and she must face her past.

The book is fine. Decently written. Decently read. But I’ve been so worried about the fiancé that I’ve been anxious for the entire four hours that I’ve been reading (with my ears)—and evidently in the hours when I’ve not been listening in my car—that I haven’t really been able to enjoy it.

The writer doesn’t share the fiancé’s point of view. The only things we know about her come from the narrator’s perspective. So we don’t know what she’s thinking—how she’s feeling—if she has any clue that her wedding is likely going to be cancelled and that a ten year relationship is likely going to end—or if she’s going to have a huge bomb dropped on her. Regardless, she’s in a really bad situation…and no matter what happens, she’s going to be really hurt. She’s either going to be marrying a man who loves another woman or she’s going to be forced to walk away from the man she thought she’d be with forever—and neither are really fair to her—nor are the lies she’s been told—or the information that’s been kept secret—or the choices that have not been given to her to make.

I know. You may be thinking. This is a fictional character, Rev. Dee. But is it really? Isn’t this the story of so many people? Maybe not the possibility of a cancelled wedding on the wedding weekend—although I know that that happens more often than any of us want to admit—but the unfairness, the lies and half-truths, the secret information, the choices not offered, the imbalance of power, the not-knowing how to have a really difficult conversation. Might this be your story, too?

I remember struggling with similar thoughts as I walked up and down the halls of the hospital where I served as chaplain. On so many occasions, I felt horrible knowing that I knew difficult information that families did not know—yet I couldn’t say a word. I held an unfair power advantage in the situation—and sometimes I had to have conversations with people, trying to remain present and non-anxious, knowing that their loved-one was dying—knowing that their hearts were going to break momentarily—when all information was made known. I hated the knowing. And I hated imagining how I’d feel if I were on the other side of myself.

So I guess that’s what this book has done to me—made me imagine how it would feel to be the fiancé unknowingly waiting for life-changing information to be shared with her—and it’s a bad feeling. The blind ignorance. The shock. The feeling of being second-best—of somehow not being good enough. It’s just…a bad feeling.

So for everyone who may be remembering and/or feeling any of those feelings tonight—
For whatever reason—
I offer prayers for peace and comfort right now.
And for everyone who is in any type of relationship—
For however long—
I offer prayers for honesty and respect;
for ears to hear and hearts to listen; and
for healthy wisdom and endurance to do the hard work of love—
wherever that work may lead.
Amen.

Strawberry Salad on Thursday Mornings

“Dear God, thank you for friendship and strawberry salad on Thursday mornings.”

Thus began a four and a half hour lunch date with a dear friend whom I hadn’t seen in over a year. We started our time together with homemade potato chips and ended it with pepperoni pizza. We had salads, sandwiches, and coffee in between, and we talked and talked and talked, both laughing and crying along the way.

Shortly after we parted, I called another dear friend with whom I hadn’t actually spoken in months. We’d been playing phone tag and sending quick texts here and there, but we hadn’t actually talked, and I was feeling the void left by missing our talks.

Conversation is so very important. And words are so very powerful. So for someone who is extraverted and thrives off of words of affirmation, days like today are unusually life-giving.

…

One afternoon while shopping with friends, I found myself magnetically drawn to an area of the store that my friends did not see. It was upstairs, away from everything else, and it was filled with beautiful art. Every piece of art was handmade and depicted a saying that was poignant, humorous, blunt, or wise.

After about fifteen minutes of separation, I heard my friends looking for me. I went to the top of the stairs, looked down, and happily declared, “I’m up here. I found words!”

…

I’ve written about the importance of words in my life before tonight. In fact, I think I once declared myself a word harvester after spending hours saving particularly meaningful and encouraging texts.

So when I hear positive words like,
“I believe that you have all the wisdom you need to make this decision,”
or receive cards in the mail that say,
“Your leading the music at [church] gives our worship services a special mood and effect. Sunday’s service gave me a needed lift,”
I feel very good.

But when I hear negative words like,
“She doesn’t need to speak so much,”
or have someone tell me,
“Everyone in the [group] likes you. Well, maybe not everyone, but almost everyone,”
I feel very bad.

But it’s not just that. I don’t just feel bad. I hear the words over and over again in my mind. They become a broken record that creates so much noise that it drowns out all words of good—and I dare say all words of truth. The power of positive words can be eclipsed by the power of negative words; therefore, as much as words can build me up, they can also tear me down.

Words are both my salvation and my kryptonite.

…

So it’s no wonder that I was so happy when I found words while shopping.
And it’s no wonder that my heart is full tonight after spending hours today talking with friends.
But it’s also no wonder that I’ve been struggling to soften some negative words that surfaced a few weeks ago and have only intensified since.
It’s no wonder that I’ve been struggling to quiet my mind so that I can hear
God’s words of truth.

…

I have a feeling I’m not the only person struggling with words right now.
I have a feeling I’m not the only person in need of more strawberry salad and less condemning noise.
I have a feeling I’m not the only person who needs to hear a clear word from God.

…

May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord our God. Our strength and redeemer. Our rock and our salvation. Hear this prayer and guide our paths, oh God.

And bless the hands that prepare our strawberry salad.