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Sometimes I speak too quick.

I speak at the wrong time, and say the wrong thing.

My tone can be harsh and unloving.

When I feel hurt, my first impulse is to throw words like knives back in anger.

Maybe in hopes, that in their pain, they will feel my own.

Sometimes I speak harshly to the three people I adore most over trivial things.

The look in their eyes, the hurt in their face becomes my window to their crushed spirit over something that wasn’t worth it. Nothing is worth that.

And I wish I could take it all back……undo the damage……but I can’t.

Sometimes I forget how much power my words have -more than the words I don’t say, it’s the ones I do say. My words are a choice, they hold the power to heal or wound – and the choice is all mine.

More than anything, I want my words to change lives because they are full of healing, hope and grace. And If they can’t be that,  I’d rather say nothing at all.

God, give me words to speak.

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