I understood the power of words from a very young age; when words cut me through so deep that the scars never went away. I am no stranger to injuries. Growing up, I played rough and carelessly. I loved climbing and jumping off trees, and it resulted in many injuries.
One memorable one occurred when I was playing on a tree. I climbed on a big branch, swung from it, and then jumped right into a bushel of roses! A split second before I jumped, I remembered the thorns, but it was too late.
I have also injured myself from random accidents like stepping on glass, burns, cuts, etc. At the time of those injuries, I was in a lot of pain. I probably cried my eyes out.
But the pain lasted only a moment, and a few days after; I was over it. And as the years passed, even the scars have faded, and what was once a source of pain is nothing but a distant blurry memory. While my physical wounds healed fast, my emotional ones did not.
I can still remember unkind words said to me. Still feel the pain as those words cut deep in me, and recall the tears and sadness that filled my heart. I obtained these emotional wounds from taunts throughout high school because of my figure, harsh words from my parents in a moment of anger, friends calling me names, and insulting me in my presence and many other events.
Those words affected me more than physical wounds ever did. Consequently, it contributed to my developing of low self-esteem and self-loathing. Words left wounds that didn’t heal as fast as my physical ones. Their damage not only lasted a while, but it changed me. The scars they left on my never faded away until I met Jesus.
They say “stick and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,” But I say stick and stones may break my bones, but words and tone may break my soul.
