I opened the blinds in my family room to see more than a foot of fresh snow covering the landscape outside our windows. Large, wet flakes continued falling thick and fast, determined to blanket everything.

It took my breath, the beauty of it.

Of course, seconds later, reality dampened my wonder. That blanket of twelve-inch snow would need to be removed one shovel-full at a time before the day’s end, including our driveway, front walkway, and back patio. It would be no easy feat, requiring an hour or two of back-breaking labor.

Even so, I felt the beauty drawing me outside. It needed to be experienced, not just witnessed.

After lacing up my snow boots, digging out my beanie and gloves, and slipping into my winter coat, I walked out the back door and got to work. Although the temperature hovered around the freezing mark, I didn’t feel cold. Instead, I felt inspired, energized, and in awe. It wasn’t easy work, as the snow was dense and heavy, but while I cleared the back patio, my husband tackled our very long driveway. And the combination of beauty and togetherness made the chore enjoyable.

Less than an hour later, I moved to the front walkway. Although tired and thoroughly drenched from the ongoing snowfall, I still savored being outdoors in the middle of it all. Until halfway through when another family member joined my husband and me in our snow-removal efforts. Without disclosing identities, I can tell you this:

They did not want to be shoveling snow. And they wanted to be sure I knew about it.

“This is so dumb.”

“Ugh, the snow is so heavy!”

“How long do I have to be out here?”

“I’m cold.”

“My hands hurt.”

“My back hurts.”

“Can I go in now?”

With each shovelful, I heard another complaint. To be honest, they weren’t wrong. The snow was heavy. The air was cold. Scoop, complain, scoop, whine. Do you know what happened?

With each new complaint, my fellow shoveler grew less effective at snow removal. It was as if their words impacted their ability to do the work. It was taking them twice as long to do half the work. It appeared speech impacted strength.

But do you know what else I noticed? Their words started to impact my strength, too. I grew more weary, more cold, and more defeated. What had been a joy became a painful drudgery. What had once held beauty became nothing but a burden.

“From the fruit of their mouth a person’s stomach is filled;
with the harvest of their lips they are satisfied.

The tongue has the power of life and death,
and those who love it will eat its fruit.”
Proverbs 18:20-21 NIV

Before you think I’m picking on one of my family members, I could provide multiple examples in which I played the complaining character. I’m a woman of many words, too many words sometimes. It’s not uncommon for me to say exactly what I think and feel at any given minute, even if it isn’t helpful.

But on the day of that snowstorm, I learned two eye-opening (and heart-humbling) lessons:

1. Words hold the power of life and death for the person who says them. 
2. Words hold the power of life and death for the person who hears them.

Our words impact our ability to do hard things. And our words impact the ability of other people to do hard things. Yes, there are moments when we must speak the truth about the hard thing out loud. I’m afraid. This is hard. My heart aches. But if complaints dominate our conversation, the hard thing becomes the only thing. And any power we might gain from the Spirit within us gets swallowed up by a lesser voice.

Yes, our stories are heavy and overwhelming. Yes, at times we feel cold and alone. That’s the truth. But it isn’t the only truth. There is a bigger Truth, a stronger Truth, one that can help us dig out of any storm:

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life.'” (John 14:6 NIV)

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” (John 14:18 NIV)

“Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20 NIV)

Now that’s a good word. Let’s make sure those are the words that get the most airtime. No matter the size of the storm.

 

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