I tell you, on the day of judgement people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.

Matthew 12:36-37

My son cut my heart deep the other day. I was angry at something he had done, so I took him on a drive to discuss the issue further. He revealed to me his own child’s heart, broken by a careless word I spoke years ago. In that moment, his wrong doing wasn’t the great sin. It was my words. The words of a parent to a child that changed his heart against me.

I had no idea.

How many times have I spoke rashly, spoke as though I was wielding a sword slashing and thrusting? How often have my words brought death? Oh, the many moments of my tongue, unbridled, spoke only for anger to grow in the hearts of my hearers. The times are too many to count when I have broken the spirit of others with my words. And I cannot even fathom the times I have broken the spirits of my own children with my words. My own heart cannot bear the weight of the hurt I have caused with my careless words to my sweet babies.

Researches have determined that people speak an average of 16,000 words in a 24-hour period. Sixteen thousand words. Words that bring life. Words that bring death. Words that destroy. Words that heal. Words that break down. Words that build up. And words that just relay the needs of the day.

Words of a momma to her little son to empower him to become a strong man. Or destroy his spirit.

Sixteen thousand words a day in the course of a life is about 440,000,000 words. Each word will either justify or condemn us. How holy would we consider our words if this thought was always on our mind?

I had no reason.

I thought about my words that fermented in his mind from so long ago. I was wrong in saying them. So very wrong. I could not undo the saying of them. I could only apologize. Even in my thoughts, I knew that being sorry didn’t seem to touch the heart. What I wanted was to go back in time and think before I spoke. A fool has more hope than a momma who speaks hastily. What I wanted was to go back to that space to breathe and notice what he needed. To truly listen before I spoke. To still in my heart and speak life and love and grace, not the frustration that the moment held. My love for him only deepens with time. Frustrations go away. Why speak then? Why speak in the heat of anger?

Why is it challenging to speak gracious words? To speak soft words? Because my heart is not always gracious, not always kind. Out of the abundance of the heart, right? I can justify why I said what I said, and perhaps the intent needed to be said. Yet, the way, the words I chose cut, destroyed, harmed, hurt. My heart was full of frustration and anger. Out of the abundance of my heart, I opened my mouth.

And regret every syllable.

I had no excuse.

In that long car ride, my son and I sat still and broken with nothing to say. I apologized. He forgave. But this wreckage left on our hearts is still there. I risked more words, oh foolish momma that I am. I reminded him that he was born to two broken people. And he is broken. When broken people live broken lives, we tend to break each other more. Not comforting. Still failing. Where is the redemption we need?

Many years ago, God spoke. He must have said something amazing. For in His utterances, particles and galaxies formed, plants grew and animals roamed, and man learned to say stupid things. This swirling chaotic mess that we see was something good to its Creator. His message of life and love is woven into the fabric of space and time. So much so, that He became the Word, full of grace and truth.

I had to remember.

God forgives and completely at that. Yet, I fail and will fail again and again – how could He be so patient? God forgives because He loves so deep. My son and I are choosing love over our brokenness. Is this easy? No. It easy to blame and accuse. Love means walking in forgiveness. Love means covering our transgressions. Covering our sins and our brokenness in grace and mercy.

If I believe that this God, who set planets in motion that we will never know about, who entered time to bring a foolish momma into His mercy, who loves so deep that hell could not hold Him, then I know our brokenness can heal. It will take time and space and tons of His grace. Isn’t this why the Word was made flesh – to heal the broken.

And the hope of all who call on Christ is this: that redemption and restoration of relationship can happen even when we hurt each other.

I had to sacrifice.

In the car, his tears fell and my heart sank as he spoke of the hurt I caused. In grace or sheer shock, I held silence sacred while he exposed his heart. The lesson is slow, but this I know:

When children let you know how you hurt them, LISTEN.

Listen. Body, mind, soul. Listen to the sound of their voice. Listen to the soft touch of their finger to their eye. Listen, if you can, to their heart. And do not justify. This lesson is slow. I must sacrifice my own justification to hear why his heart was turned away from me. I wanted to justify. I wanted to explain why I said what I said. I wanted to show my righteousness over his unrighteousness. Even though I had none.

I sacrificed my hasty words to listen. In doing so, his heart become my only concern.

I had to value.

All because a God, who introduces Himself as merciful grace, everlasting love, loving kindness, just, holy, loves me more than any wrong-doing, than any mess, than any thing I could imagine.

My son and I are walking in grace and forgiveness. And our love is strengthened by the HESED of God to help us be better than we were. And Christ walks reconciliation with us.