The words popped into my inbox at precisely the right time:

“Jennifer, I’m writing to let you know that God delights in you.”

The note came from Dave. He was a pastor who lived about a half-hour from our farm. Over the years, he had become a dear friend to my husband and me.

Dave wasn’t our pastor, but in many ways, he was a spiritual mentor. Quite regularly, he would drop me a line, reminding me that I was loved by God, just as I was, not as I thought I should be.

Dave had a Brennan Manning-esque quality to him that made you know that no matter how badly you’d blown it, God would not walk out on you.

He ended most of his notes with these four words: “God delights in you.”

Dave had a ministry of words — and I wasn’t the only one on the receiving end. He spread kindness everywhere he went, like confetti. If you were his friend on Facebook, there was a 100 percent chance that you’d get a birthday greeting on your wall, along with the reminder that “God delights in you.”

We all need a friend like Dave, someone who is generous with kind words and who consistently reminds us that we are treasured by God, even when we feel busted up by the world.

But there’s more: We also need to be that friend.

More than ever before in the history of our world, we have the power to practice our own ministry of words. With a few keystrokes, we can sprinkle kindness on social media. With a stamp and a postcard, we can deliver love. With a few taps of our fingertips and some silly emojis, we can offer glad tidings.

Do we realize the power we have to make someone’s day? Do we realize the power we have to let someone know she is a treasured child of the King?

We can do it with words.

The world out there? It’s a tough place right now, you know? Sometimes, it feels like people are more interested in being right than being kind. Some want to have the last word, the final say, and the smug comeback. I see it too often: how people choose vitriol over virtue.

And that’s just the public word exchanges.

Some of us know painfully well how words behind closed doors can cut the deepest.

I have both loved and hated words. They have been used to heal me, and to hurt me.

You too?

We are all shaped by the words spoken over us. The names we’ve been called on the playground. The inspiring pep talks our parents gave us. The words the counselor spoke over us. The insults from the boss. The gentle affirmation from the kind lady who always sat in the last pew.

Behold the power of the spoken word:

“The tongue has the power of life and death.” {Proverbs 18:21}.

Words start wars, and they spark peace.

They are shadows, and they are chains. But they are also wings and freshest air.

Words can take you prisoner, or they can set you free.

Dave showed a lot of people what it looked like to choose the very best words.

Last week, our dear friend Dave died after a long illness. And you know what his friends have been doing since then? They have been recalling the miles of kind words he used to pave a road that leads straight to Jesus.

This is one of the many legacies that Dave leaves: a legacy of words.

You know what I think? I think we can do the same. There are reasons we don’t. First of all, it takes effort. We may have to cross through a crowd, or set aside a few minutes to make a phone call. But even a short 20-second text, saying “God delights in you” could make all the difference today to your kid, your co-worker, your spouse, your cranky neighbor, or your mother.

Our words always fold into the souls of other human beings. That’s no small thing.

When we exit earth for heaven, we might not have a lot of money or pretty things to leave the people we love. But we can always be rich in the words we left behind. We can leave an inheritance of kindness.

That’s what Dave taught me.

And just imagine that moment, when Dave showed up at heaven’s gate. I like to think that God pulled him aside, and whispered in Dave’s ear:

“I delight in you!”

[linebreak]

Share on Twitter:

Our words always fold into the souls of other human beings. That’s no small thing. {Tweet this!}

Leave a Comment