The spoken word is powerful. There is power in speaking a name. There is power in speaking a declarative statement. There is power in asking a question. God created man with the ability to formulate and express thoughts with words. We know God through His word, and we express ourselves to God through words in prayer. Our relationship with one another is developed by the words that we speak. The spoken word can be glorious in that it can encourage, inform, bring joy, and heal. The spoken word can also be destructive in that it can discourage, deceive, and wound. With our words, we can enlighten or confuse, bless or curse, build up or tear down, encourage or demoralize.

The ability to express thoughts and emotions through speech is part of being made in the image of God. God is one who speaks. God spoke all things into existence. The third verse of the Bible begins with the words, “and God said.” With these words, God declared what was good and pleasing. Later God gave testimony to Himself through the words of the law. And finally, Hebrews tells us, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.” And our God who speaks, by His command, created man in His image with the glorious gift of expressive speech.

This summer, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. My sister Abbie, and I, along with our spouses and children, traveled to Columbus for the celebration. Everything about the weekend was joyful and good. On Saturday night we enjoyed a meal together with all the family. Afterward, we gathered at the house and played a video for my parents of good wishes from many of their friends. On Sunday, I had the privilege of teaching my dad's Sunday school class; then, we packed a pew for Sunday worship. After church, we took lots of family pictures. Every moment of the weekend was joy-filled.

During the weekend I looked at my parents' wedding photos. In the pictures, they are young, fresh-faced, and smiling. Though it is hard to think of your parents as being other than how you have known them, I know enough to know that the young couple in the photos had no clue what the years ahead would bring. In the photos, they are all smiles and youthful glee. Their faces show no signs of worry, and their smiles look genuinely carefree. There is one particular photo that captured my attention. It was the photo of the moment my parents emerged from the church to leave for their honeymoon. All the wedding guests had lined up beside the door to wish them well as they ran to the car. It was the tradition then to throw rice at departing couples, but because my dad worked for a peanut company, the guests through peanuts. The photo captures the moment of glee just after the covenant making and before the covenant keeping. Peanuts are in the air. Their smiles seem more part of who they are than momentary expressions as they dodge the flying legumes. They were husband and wife, happy to be united in marriage and excited to begin their life together. The photo perfectly captures that most joyful moment.

The earliest disagreement I can remember having with my wife came in the early days of our courtship. We were both students at Shorter University and in the last year of our studies. Though we had known each other since our freshman year, we had only recently begun a serious relationship and were excited to spend as much time together as possible. I had invited Dana over to my apartment and was preparing a meal for her. The specifics of the meal have long since evaporated from my memory, but the particulars of our disagreement remain fresh. I had recently purchased a 4lbs. bag of sugar and was preparing to use the new sugar in whatever I was making. When I opened the sugar container, Dana noticed a singular black ant crawling across the top of the sugar. The building my apartment was in was an older building and thus the occasional bug was just part of living there. When Dana pointed out the little ant, I scooped it out and went on with my business of preparing food. Dana immediately protested and demanded that I throw away the entire container of sugar. I countered that the majority of the sugar was untouched by the ant and throwing out all of it would be wasteful. She contended that it was all contaminated by the presence of the little ant.

We are people of stories. We tell stories to chronicle our history and express who we are. The stories we tell about ourselves paint the mural of who we are, what events have shaped us, what we hope to become, and how we hope to be remembered. Our stories are living things. How we tell them, when we tell them, who we tell them too, and what details we include (and exclude) all are part of the living story. Listening to others tell their stories helps you understand and know their heart. Understanding and knowing another’s heart goes a long way to helping you be more gracious towards them.