Tongue Tamed-ish: Words are Weapons – Choose Your Target
There’s a verse in the Bible that feels like God highlighted it with glitter and slapped it on my forehead: “Life and death are in the power of the tongue.” – Proverbs 18:21
I’ve heard that for most of my life, but the meaning hits a little different now – because if there is ONE gift that I came preloaded with… it is a mouth.
Talking. Telling stories. Explaining things no one asked for. Volumizing when the room is already echoey enough.
I was the kid told to shhh. The teen who got, “you’re being too loud,” and the adult who got told, “you don’t have to yell.” Yet somehow still ended up with a job answering phones, coordinating people, leading teams, coaching kids, and – plot twist – speaking to an audience.
Turns out all that “talking too much” was training.
God has been schooling me gently (with, I’m sure, many side-eyes) that what comes out of my mouth doesn’t just hit the air and disappear – it echoes.
And those echoes show up everywhere: in my home, on the basketball court, in meetings at work, in a conversation with friends, and on those days where my words try to operate without supervision.
The Ripple You Don’t Notice Until You Hear It Back
Motherhood has been a humbling journey. If there is anything that can perfectly bounce your echoes back to you, it’s a carbon copy mini-human who was also born lacking a verbal filter.
Like most moms, sometimes I feel like I’m talking into a black hole – “Brush your teeth. Make your bed. Get your shoes on. We have to go! Go get a clean hoodie.”
But then Wyatt will do something that reminds me he is listening more deeply than I realize.
One morning after a particularly rough emotional week – the kind where hormones hijack your mouth and your patience took emergency leave – I was mentally replaying every sharp word I didn’t want to say but did anyway. Later that week I overheard Wyatt while getting ready for school saying, “I am kind. I am helpful. I am loved. Its going to be a great day!”
That wasn’t a sermon. It wasn’t a Facebook quote. It was the affirmations I’d helped him write on his bathroom mirror to help us start our work days on a positive note.
And God boomeranged it right back through my kid like, “See? He’s paying attention. Make it count.”
It shows up on the basketball court too. I’ve watched tiny human athletes fall apart from one negative comment and grow three inches taller from one hopeful one. A simple, “Good shot! Shake it off,” can turn a kids game. I don’t even have to say God’s name for Him to show up in the echo.
And my relationships?
Let’s just say there are days when my words are soft enough to hug someone and days when, if my tongue were a sword, it would have a high body count. But God keeps reminding me: “One sentence can start a fire, or it can put one out.” I am learning to stop scorching the earth and start planting seeds. And sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do is take a breath, eat a snack, and let the Holy Spirit translate what I want to say into something another human can survive.
Then there are the people God places in my life – gentle reality checks that feel like kindness and accountability wrapped together. Speaking identity into me like they read God’s notes out loud. Their words pull me back to center, and because they speak truth, I echo truth back too.
But then there’s the loudest voice of all. Mine. Inside my own head.
If there’s any voice that has the power to shape my day, anchor my purpose, or send me spiraling like a playground twisty slide – its this one.
Some mornings, before anyone else has even said good morning, I’ve already: talked myself out of my potential, replayed everything I said wrong this week, and worried myself into exhaustion – all without a single word spoken out loud.
But when I make the choice to shift what I say to myself – from criticism to compassion and self-doubt to truth, everything else follows. My tone changes. My parenting changes. My leadership changes. I see possibilities instead of problems. Because the echo that will shape the world around us always starts with the one inside ourselves.
To Be The Echo we first have to start in our own chest.
God didn’t call me to repeat chaos, fear, insecurity, sarcasm wrapped in pain, or words I’ll regret later.
He called me to be the echo of: life, grace, strength, belonging, identity, purpose, and hope. Not just for other people – but for myself first.
So the next time my kid tests my sanctification, or a ref makes a call that is CLEARLY WRONG, or my brain starts narrating worst-case scenarios… I’m choosing to pause long enough to ask: “If this word is going to echo – do I want to hear it again?”
If the answer is no… I’ll sip water, say a prayer, take a walk, or send myself to a metaphorical timeout like I do my basketball players.
Because the truth is: The loudest words are the ones no one else hears – and they shape every echo that follows.
So yes – I am still loud. I still talk A LOT. I still have days where my mouth fires faster than my faith can activate.
God didn’t ask me to mute the voice He gave me – He is teaching me to aim it.
At the end of the day, the mission is simple: Speak like someone is always listening – because they are.
On the court. At the dinner table. On the phone. In a heated moment. And especially in the quiet where only you can hear yourself.
Because life and death really are in the power of the tongue – and I’d rather use mine to echo heaven, instead of havoc.
And let me be very clear before anyone starts polishing a halo for me – I do NOT have it all figured out. I am not writing this as someone who has mastered her mouth – I’m writing as someone who is still learning, fumbling, apologizing, and choosing to try again every day. I am not perfect, not polished, not finished… but I am committed to being an echo worth sending out.