James 3:5-10
Growing up, people often told me I had a quick wit and a sharp tongue. In my family, that was almost a compliment. We were known for thinking fast, winning arguments, and always having the last word. I wore that reputation like a badge of honor.
The problem wasn’t that my words weren’t true. The problem was that I often used the truth to hurt people. I justified it by telling myself, “Well, it’s true,” as if that somehow made my words less harmful. Looking back, I realize I wasn’t using my words to build others up; I was using them to tear others down.
In ninth grade, another student and I traded insults almost every day, trying to outdo each other with the sharpest comeback. To me, it was just a game. A few months later, a different student at my school died by suicide after enduring intense bullying. I didn’t know him well, but his death shook me. That night, my mom said something I’ve never forgotten: “You never know what someone is carrying, or how deeply your words might affect them.”
Those words changed me. From that day on, our daily battle of insults ended. I made a promise to myself that my words would leave people with hope rather than hurt.
James writes that the tongue is like a small spark that can set an entire forest on fire. I realized my words could either leave scars or offer hope. They could tear someone down or point them toward life.
I still feel the urge to have the last word. I still think of the perfect comeback long before I should. But now, before I speak, I ask myself a different question: Will these words leave this person feeling more loved or more wounded?
I don’t always get it right, but I want my conversations to end with people feeling encouraged rather than defeated. I used to use my words to win. Now I pray God will use my words to give life.
Madison Kaaman
Nursery & Early Childhood Coordinator