Teri had just come back from the grocery store, and decked with her apron, she was starting to cook dinner when I had made it home from work. The kitchen was a beehive of activity—kids checkout out the inventory, snooping through shopping bags, Laughter and anticipation was in the air – it was electric! Into this little taste of heaven I dropped the verbal bomb. “Teri, did you get the low carb bread?” No answer. I asked again a little louder. “Teri, I don't see the low carb bread, did you not get it?” She turned around and with a sound of resignation in her voice very slowly said, “No, Jim, I forgot it.” At that point, I was hot under the collar. We had been out of low carb bread for several days, and she had been to the store at least three times since then. So with as must frustration as I could muster in my voice I said, “Teri (using her name for emphasis), you refuse to get me that bread. (Accusatory tone) If you don't want to get it just tell me and, I will go to the store and get it myself.” (Hands used for emphasis.) It was a cold and calculated attack, a dagger, a strife builder. It was a verbal grenade meant to draw blood, and it did. I don't remember Teri's exact words back to me because I instantly started thinking that my words were a cheap shot, a sucker punch and cruel. Those words were not meant to help the situation; I was mad and wanted her to know it. I do remember from her response that my words had drawn blood and wounded her heart. Instantly the warmth of human fellowship was dissolved and an invisible wall descended into this little snapshot of Eden.

I am not alone in the struggle of taming the tongue.   We all face the challenge of using words in a manner that is good and proper. Nor am I alone in relegating this problem to one that is incidental. Our hearts are so deceitful that we act as if our words are cheap and really don't mean that much. Whereas, in reality our words are weighty, and they go far beyond the bruising of body and bones, they go straight into the soul. Two things stand out to me as I think about the power of words. First, they have power of life and death. It doesn't take a genius to figure this out. Our country spends billions of dollars in therapy each year because the misuse of words has convinced a person, who otherwise had all the trapping of health and vitality, that they were of no more value than the garbage you take out to the street. The effect of words is like radioactivity, outwardly you may not detect the damage, but inwardly, they eat away at the heart.   On the other hand, if you want to know the most powerful thing in the world, look no further than this simple phrase—“I love you.” These words spoken in earnest by the right person are like atomic energy. A person in the grip of these words—felt, tasted and believed can be in the midst of the worst crisis of life and, yet, the power of these words to comfort and sustain is of greater value and worth than if you possess enough money to buy your way out of the crisis situation. Talk is never cheap; it is weighty.

A second thing we read in the scripture that is proven by human nature is that no one can tame the tongue. St. James just flat out says it – “No one can tame the tongue.”   How is it that even knowing that our words will wound, hurt, discourage and destroy, we still use them? Immediately after I accused Teri of purposefully and maliciously refusing to buy the low carb bread for me, I felt something knot up in me and I felt that if the roof would just cave in on me it would be a just reward for my meanness. Yeah, I knew it! I knew it would cause a stir, I knew it would bring strife and I did it anyway. We all know we do this, but why? Because when we are upset usually our purpose in speech is not better understanding of others; it is not other-centered—it is me-centered. When we are misunderstood or hurt our deceitful, self-protective hearts just want to vent. In these situations the unspoken assumption is that we are God. We have a right to speak any way we want and to hell with the consequences.

What are we to do? Is there any hope for people like us? Are we just victims of wit and passion, or does God have a plan for our mouths just like he does for the rest of our lives? Till you get so sick and disgusted with your speech and then get to the point, like James, that you can admit, “I can't control my speech.” There is no hope. Technique will not help, that is like putting a bandage on something that requires radical surgery. We must honestly deal with the fact we cannot tame the tongue before we will run to the only refuge that will work and that is the gospel.

We must recognize that our speech reveals what is in our heart.   This is difficult, yet offers hope.   What comes out of our mouths is like a window into our hearts. Words reveal our spiritual condition. We are not victims. Other people do not cause us to vent and rail, they are just the occasion that makes what is in the heart come out. Seen in this light, we can look at our speech and get honest. We can stop blaming, see how bad it is and then run to the One who was not deceitful nor was guile found in his mouth. That is why Jesus came – for foul-mouthed people like us.