It's not at all true you know - what they say about sticks and stones, and breaking bones, and words that never hurt.
I remember seventeen and my skinny self - no more than a hundred and ten pounds in navy blue cords and a grey sweatshirt, and the young man I’m with pokes me in the ribs to tease. Fat pat the rat, he says with a grin, thinking he's being cute.
He means no harm. He likes me, I think, but that silly rhyme pierces a shy young girl not sure of herself, and I tuck those four little words into the pocket of my soul, so that long past seventeen, and a hundred and ten pounds, they have the power to keep wounding - over and over and over.
Until the day I realize that words only have the power I give them. I can keep thoughtless words tucked in my soul or I can toss them to the wind - because the power to let them go is mine.
Have you ever held onto hurt, giving it power it doesn't own, or have you let it go - tossed to the wind – because truthfully, the choice is ours.
For who has time in this mist of a life to wallow in wounds when greater is He that is in you and me than he that is in the world.
…whatever is true
whatever is honorable
whatever is just
whatever is pure
whatever is lovely
whatever is commendable
if there is any excellence
if there is anything worthy of praise
think about these things.
~ Philippians 4.8
