My roommate tells me that things mean more to her if they are said in spanish.
Words mean more to me if they are spoken. I love to write–it is, really and truly, my first language–but when you speak aloud, those words are there forever.
They can never be erased.
I struggle with this. I am terrified that I will make a verbal slip, and so often, I choose not to say something rather than to say the wrong thing.
I don’t have that choice right now.
I have to speak. I have to say things, and there are times when life and death are hanging on my ability to choose the right words.
I’m scared to death.
Each word in this post was pored over and prayed over, and this is almost always the case–I don’t post things lightly. But now I have to speak, and in the moment, what if my words slip?
What if I fail?
What if I crush hearts and hopes? I’m so conscious of my own words right now. I stutter and stumble, and when I say the wrong thing, it falls from my mouth and shatters, and I cannot pick up the pieces.
So I pray, and I pray, and I try to plan for the words, knowing full well that the moment I open my mouth they will fly from my mind. Only by the grace of God will my words be found good.
Words are powerful. Let mine be powerful for the good, and not the evil.
In the Name of The Word, the only wise God, Jesus Christ, Amen.