A Word Fitly Spoken by Marilynn Griffith
A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. (Proverbs 25:11, KJV)
Words have power. We’ve heard from the pulpit for a long time, even used the power of words to attempt to create a life where nothing bad happens, where nothing hurts. And yet, things do hurt. Bad things do happen. It is often the words said at these times, after the unthinkable happens, that words have the most power.
For me, it was after the birth of my first child, mine only for moments, hustled away as adoption papers were pushed in front of my face. My mother, who’d done all she could, given all she had, could do no more. A child myself, I didn’t understand any of it, from why I was keeping the baby’s father’s name a secret and enduring the shame alone to the overwhelming desire to crawl down the hall and see my baby.
Though I didn’t understand, I responded to that urge, taking baby steps so as not to add to the already blinding pain radiating up my thighs, blazing from the inside out. The gown that someone had tied hastily at my neck barely held, but I kept going, gripping the guide bar along the wall. I felt faint, dizzy, but I couldn’t stop now. I couldn’t keep her, but I could see her, tell her that I loved her, that I’d written her a letter, knitted her crooked booties…
“Lord have mercy. Look at that child. Her behind is hanging out. Her hair is jacked up. She looks a mess.”
Two cleaning ladies, huddled in the corner half-whispered and half-shouted the words as I shuffled past them. They held court on me in a moment and proclaimed me guilty. Unworthy. A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold, the Bible says, like jewelry. Though I needed pearls of wisdom from them, though I needed their loving arms to close my gown and cover me, they did not. Instead of a pendant or a promise, they gave me shackles, a verbal shove onto a road of wandering for many years with my behind in the wind.
Many years later, God brought women to me who saw past my books and my Bible, who saw past my paint and power, they saw a little girl with a mashed in Jheri curl and a bad hospital gown. They saw it and they covered me. They gave me words like polished gems.
“You’re a daughter of the king,” one said, fitting diamonds into my ears. “They should have covered you,” said another, pulling a dress down over my head. They sat with me as I birthed my healing, my babies and later, my books. They taught me the power of a right word at the right time…or even after the wrong time. Consider well the words you give to others. They may wear them for a lifetime.
Marilynn Griffith is wife to a deacon, mom to a tribe and proof that God gives second chances. Her latest novel, Tangerine (Revell, January 2007) tells the story of a woman whose heart and life has been broken. When she least expects it, God collects the broken pieces and asks her a question—“Will you be made whole?” Visit Marilynn at www.MarilynnGriffith.com.
