This school year I was assigned to mentor a brand new teacher, Abby. She's very young, and naive. I hate to admit that I've been rather a nag.

Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? ************************************** Dear Reader, is there someone in your life that is so close to you, they can read your emotions? Are you transparent in your words and feelings to those who care the most about you? This school year I was assigned to mentor a brand new teacher, Abby. She's very young, and naive. I hate to admit that I've been rather a nag. ![]() Unbeknownst to all of us at school, Abby has a very serious medical condition. She assured me it wasn't terminal. After much prompting, Abby finally confessed that stress aggravates the condition.
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Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? *************************************** I wonder if the advent of the water bottle has pretty much eradicated the water cooler that used to dot offices. Water cooler or not, wherever people work or go to school, there seems to be a designated gathering place. ![]() I stopped eating in the workplace "break" room several years ago. They seemed to be hotbeds of negativity and gossip. It was too easy to join the conversation. Dear Reader, please don't think that choice was noble or altruistic in any way. (Remember me? I'm the one with the poison pen.) 9 We use our tongues to praise our Lord and Father, but then we curse people. And God made them like himself. 10 Praises and curses come from the same mouth! My brothers, this should not happen. As a school principal, I was fortunate to participate in a technology cohort. When we created our websites, I chose "Knowledge is power" (Sir Francis Bacon), as my signature slogan. It seemed appropriate for an educator. The more I became immersed in the professional world, the more I learned that the power can easily be corrupted. Have you felt the sting of having your words bandied about, or used against you? Perhaps it's due to misplaced trust, or restroom eavesdropper. Workplace words used to put down rather than promote are bad enough. But what about traitorous words from those closest to you? Jesus knew how that felt. 44 Judas had planned a signal for them. He had said, “The man I kiss is Jesus. Arrest him and guard him while you lead him away.” 45 So Judas went to Jesus and said, “Teacher!” and kissed him. (Dear Reader, feel free to turn out any time if gossip or careless words aren't vices of yours.) Being "in the know", gossip, is a real challenge for me. I'm thankful people frequently feel they can confide in me. But frankly, sometimes I wish they didn't. In a casual conversation, it's so easy to let a careless word slip. Have you ever done that, Dear Reader? It's not like we go looking for an opportunity to slander and/or hurt. When it comes to our conversations, there's good news and bad news. First, the bad: we're accountable for all of our words, not just the careless ones. Let me tell you something: Every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you. There will be a time of Reckoning. Words are powerful; take them seriously. Words can be your salvation. Words can also be your damnation.” Whoa! Talk about harsh! That should be enough for me to put a permanent filter on my big mouth. Since it isn't, I have to trust in our great big God, who is big on forgiveness: If you, God, kept records on wrongdoings, who would stand a chance? As it turns out, forgiveness is your habit, and that’s why you’re worshiped. Psalm 120:3 MSG Woo-Hoo! While we're held accountable for our words, we have the BEST ADVOCATE EVER when we invariably mess up. And just when we think the good news can't get better, it does: The promises of the Lord are promises that are pure, Dear Reader, sometimes I think the "water cooler" should come with a warning label. Even more often, I'm thankful for a forgiving Savior, who's always true to His promises, when those careless words slip out, aren't you?
Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? ************************************ ![]() My first real job, back in the last century, was at K-Mart. Clerks were taught the acronym, "TYSAK", during orientation. "Thank You for Shopping at KMart!" It was so important to managers that every register had it on two stickers. Pardon me while I rant for a minute. Also back in the last century, Tom and I met in Sunday School. (Just call us Mr. and Mrs. BORING!) Our teacher was a retired school teacher, Mrs. Bengston. As a public school teacher, Mrs. Bengston taught "Deportment". Definition of deportment ![]() What do you think? Maybe we should add Deportment back into schools' curriculum. Don't worry, Dear Reader, I'm not advocating for a bunch of little Miss Prissy Britches, just a little more courtesy. Growing up, we were taught to say "Yes, Mam" and "No, Mam", "Please", and "Thank you". No excuses for no manners. I thought I understood what a treasure courtesy is. These guys taught me that courtesy should be more than lip service. Peter and Paul knew that courtesy and kindness are essential for spreading the gospel. Through thick and thin, keep your hearts at attention, in adoration before Christ, your Master. Be ready to speak up and tell anyone who asks why you’re living the way you are, and always with the utmost courtesy. ![]() The group of middle school guys had made and been affected by a lot of mistakes and misunderstandings. Courtesy and kindness had been in short supply for them. Who was I to try and teach them deportment of all things? How could I possibly reach kids like Mario? A very wise colleague at our alternative school told me that the most important commodity for our students was relationships. She also cautioned me that their radars could detect a "poser" at fifty feet. These guys were my students for spring semester. Some days it was hard showing up, listening to stories that broke my heart, buying school lunches for hungry kids. My colleague's words echoed in my brain, mingled with TYSAK, and Mama's lessons in good manners. Our relationship seemed to start when I really began paying attention. Once in a while, we learned about American History, including the Boston Tea Party. My friend, Mario, was 15 and in 6th grade. Reading and writing? Not so much. But what an artist! Another colleague suggested that Mario's assessments be illustrations. Bingo! And just look where that first step took us! Dear Reader, please know this is not a criticism. I don't doubt your manners in the least. I'm preaching to myself. Not for my lack of courtesy TO others, but for not expecting courtesy FROM others for fear that they may not like me.
More and more I think perhaps the second best thing I can teach my granddaughters and students is the expectation of courtesy, given and received, in their daily lives. (The first is the saving grace of Jesus Christ.) Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? ************************************** ![]() Dear Readers, were you one of those kids in elementary school that got a ding for talking too much on your grade card? I sure was. Maybe it was my control freak tendencies, or curiosity about others, kick starting. ![]() A couple of summers ago I was applying for a position on the retail side of Hallmark. There were several lengthy tests that seemed to assess integrity. It was during one of the face-to-face interviews that I learned something about myself. I don't recall the question, but my answer was that I love to hear people's stories. It's fun to listen to how couples met. I enjoy discovering how someone got from one place to another far away. If the comfort level is high, I like learning what motivates people, what passions drive them. I think God wants us to share our stories. 2 Leaders, listen to this message! ![]() I also think our stories are interconnected. A colleague recently shared that another colleague of ours saw a picture of her and her best friend, who lives a thousand miles away. The two colleagues were astounded to discover they shared friendships with the woman living half way across the country. Maybe our stories are like interlocking puzzle pieces. Maybe we're not complete without sharing our stories. I'm missing a piece in the top; do you have it? I've got this extra piece; does it fix your puzzle? Personal experience convenienced me that there are lots of folks out there who are longing to tell their stories. But what if there's nobody to listen? 14-17 But how can people call for help if they don’t know who to trust? And how can they know who to trust if they haven’t heard of the One who can be trusted? And how can they hear if nobody tells them? And how is anyone going to tell them, unless someone is sent to do it? That’s why Scripture exclaims, Dear Reader, are you waiting for an audience of one to hear your story? Does someone else's story held a missing piece for yours?
What do you think? Sometimes in our noisy world, quiet is restorative, but sometimes I wonder if silence is really golden. Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? *************************************** Dear Reader, I can't tell you how much joy it gives me to write for and to you. My goal with each post is to give you a little something to smile about, or to reflect on. Sadly,it wasn't always this way. ![]() My poison pen found its voice early on. It began at recess, in 5th grade. I crafted the letter, promoted its virtues, and solicited the signatures. We didn't like our music teacher, and thought our classroom teacher, Mrs. Moore, would be much better. My classmates and I didn't even hesitate in addressing it to the superintendent of the school district. Our (my) letter found its way to the principal's office. Since my name was signed, boldly, proudly, and first, guess who was invited in for a chat. The effects, and consequences, of that first poison pen experience didn't deter me from being an enthusiastic participant in the circulation of "Slam Books" a couple of years later. Middle school girls can be the meanest. And then something changed. Attending a Youth for Christ rally in 9th grade, the Lord spoke to me in a new way. Our God, you bless everyone whose sins you forgive and wipe away. ![]() God began chiseling away at my heart. It took a while for Him to make me understand how a gift can become a curse. So I confessed my sins and told them all to you. I said, “I’ll tell the Lord each one of my sins.” Then you forgave me and took away my guilt. ![]() As young marrieds, Tom and I sought pastoral counseling in the midst of a family loss. One of the pastor's suggestions was to write letters to all the people we felt had caused us anguish. When we returned with the letters,he put them in envelopes and sealed them, without reading them. The written purge had allowed harsh thoughts and feelings to come to the surface. Healing was something else altogether. The pastor wasn't finished with the letters quite yet. He told us we always have a choice about our words. We can put a stamp on the envelopes and send them to the recipients. We could pull them out to read over and over again. Or we could destroy the letters. The pastor told us that neither sending or destroying the letters, guaranteed the death of our words. We could always rewrite them. What seemed like a somewhat harsh lesson, taught me the power of our words, spoken or written. The Lord had chiseled out a big enough hole in my heart to begin using His gift for His glory. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. How fun it has been to discover the joy of exhortation over the pleasure of denigration. I love our weekly visits, and also sharing encouraging texts, notes, and letters.
To be completely honest, Dear Reader, sometimes my lack of online presence is my attempt to keep my poison pen in check. For me, social media can be a powerful temptation to spew venom once more. (That's not a social media criticism, just a chink in my personal armor.) Dear Reader, do you have a gift you have to guard against becoming a curse? What ways has God shown you to reflect and share His glory? Dear Reader, lately I've been reading more and more about the effect of our words. I know, not a new topic. But one thing has added to my thinking, and it's the effects of our words, good and not so good, on ourselves. Will you join me in digging a little deeper? *************************************** ![]() Way back in the last century, Mama and my mother-in-law thought Burt Reynolds, then a very popular actor, was pretty cool. Just a good old boy type, with an endearing grin. I'm not sure which came first, the stage show, or the Burt Reynolds movie, but despite the topic, "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas,"seemed to have broad appeal. Whenever I think of saying or hearing the words, "I will always love you," I think of the love song chorus from that particular movie. (And I promise, Tom and I have only seen it once.) Okay, Dear Reader, if you just fell off your chair, please carefully get back up. And please listen to Dolly Parton's heartfelt lyrics in the chorus. Now, wasn't that nice, Dear Reader? I pray you hear those words often in your life, from a spouse,a sweetheart, parent, or child. "I will always love you." That's the best, isn't it? We all know, though, that sometimes "always" is a lot shorter than we expected. Sometimes, we wish we had uttered those treasures sooner, before it was too late. Or maybe we long in the deepest part of ourselves to have heard them, at least once. Here's the most amazing news ever, Dear Reader: it's NEVER too late to tell or hear God say, "I will always love you." When He says "always", it's forever, everlasting, "to infinity and beyond!" the Lord appeared to him[a] from far away.[b] When I read or hear about the power of words, "I will always love you," is my default. And knowing that I know that God speaks those words into my spirit every day of my life brings strength and comfort when other words are not so kind. What a treasure He has given us!
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Hi, my name is Alice. A Way with Words is about sharing faith,
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