Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14 KJV
Daily (if not multiple times a day!), I pray Psalm 19:14 for myself. As a professor, writer, and speaker, I spend a lot of my day, every day, occupied with words and ideas, whether from my head and heart or from someone else’s.
As I learn more about words and when and how to use them, I’m realizing every word is important in every conversation in which I participate, every talk I present, and every page I ponder.
For some years now, I’ve told my students, “Knowledge is a tool or a weapon, depending on how you use it.” Some of them get it; some of them don’t.
After teaching for thirty-plus years with literally thousands of students, I’ve recognized that students who appreciate the inherent power of that statement about knowledge as a weapon are often operating out of personal pain. They know the meaning behind the words because they’ve lived through pain in some very hard places in their lives.
Dysfunctional doesn’t just describe some homes; it depicts approximately 70-80 % of homes in the US. Far too many students from far too many homes, including pastors and other church leaders’ homes, come from dysfunctional homes.
I’ve heard stories I can’t forget.
I remember one student, for whom I still pray and correspond with, who always held herself stiffly like she wanted to fold into herself so no one could see her. She whispered more than spoke, moved silently, and always would put herself at the end of the line to use lab equipment or participate in an activity in class. Yet her eyes and mind missed nothing – elegant solutions and brilliant, thoughtful answers on paper despite barely any voluntary answering questions aloud in class. A visible flinch or cringe to inadvertently touching another person in ordinary class activities.
This was more than shyness. This was a learned response to being afraid. Near the end of the semester, when I learned more about her home life, I realized her speech, her drawing herself in was her conditioned response in trying to survive by doing her best to not be noticed. Her innate strength to love and trust God, despite a home life straight out of an evening news crime report, challenges me yet today in my faith and my calling to care for students. And I’m delighted and thankful to report that she is now growing in confidence as she is thriving in her marriage and career.
She let God change her and her story into good. No one is beyond hope or help from God.
Stories of abuse, abandonment, absence of faithfulness, and abundance of broken promises. Stories of rejection and regret. Stories of depression, denial, despair, disease, and destruction. Stories of lies from an absence of love and/or lacking in resources in every way.
Stories like these are what more and more of my students expect as “normal”. They’ve not experienced love from earthly fathers (and/or mothers). Thus, their view of God and the Word, Jesus Christ, is no more than cheap words spoken or read aloud that applies to others’ lives, not theirs.[1]
In other words, they understand what they shouldn’t know.
They’ve learned that words are (often) cheap, even if they shouldn’t be.
My students understand what no one should know about pain, loss, and suffering. They’ve lived as captives to caustic or careless comments, screamed sentences, power-robbing phrases. Others have been guilted into feeling they have “selfishly” left their siblings behind for college when they should’ve stayed home to care for them. These are just some of the many stories I’ve heard from students about their home lives.
Their homes aren’t havens; they’re horrific.
Thus, these students often know only the dark side of words.
Unfortunately, the dark side of words isn’t confined to those who publicly proclaim evil. It resides and reigns in homes of those claiming to be Christ-followers, i.e., children of the day (1 Thessalonians 5:5 niv).
Even if my students have tasted and seen that God is good for themselves, they often don’t make the connection of words as guides leading them to light and life, much less, love (see Psalm 34:8 and John 1:1&14).
That’s just a few of the reasons why I know my students need far more than my words explaining bunches of science to them.
They need love.
Real love.
A love that gets down with them on their knees in tears and in compassion. A love which knows pain and promises of an eternity beyond belief or compare. A love that nourishes and satisfies their hearts hungry for relationships. A love which gives them truths they don’t even know they need. A love that listens, leans in, and lets them see themselves as beloved. A love which speaks hope to their hearts and help to their souls.
A love that prompts me to pray for them.
Daily.
And often, throughout the day, to pray for them for many things, including Psalm 19:14. For as I pray for my words and meditations to be pleasing to my Jesus with my students (and colleagues), I join Him in His work to bring words of truth spoken in love to them (see Ephesians 4:15). I join Him in His work to bring to completion every good work He’s begun in them (see Philippians 1:6).
And those are the most important words I say in a day or could say in a lifetime of days…
[1] Even though this article focuses on students, the same principles about words and prayer applies to our colleagues and their families. Because more than likely, many of them might also be operating out of lies and lessons they learned in the past from those who didn’t love them because they didn’t love our Lord Jesus Christ.
