Power of the Pen
A follow-up to Mindy Obenhaus's great post last week by Ruth Logan Herne
Last week Mindy Obenhaus talked about the power of Christian fiction and how our words affect others.
That is so true. It's not only true of us, but of anyone who has either the gift of the pen or storytelling or lecture. It's a lark, right? An adventure, ripe for the telling! A chance to spin a yarn.
But the gift of writing and storytelling goes deeper than that. Far deeper.
Years ago a line of Laura Ingalls Wilder stuck with me... how when there was a new teacher in the school, the children were challenging her. Being naughty, as children will. Testing. And Laura slanted them a quick smile of encouragement because the teacher had been sharp with her.
That tiny smile was enough to spur them on to wreak havoc. A classroom run amok. And Laura understood her little smile of approval had fed the fire.
A few years ago a high-ranking politician used faint words of disparagement for law enforcement after a bad situation. It wasn't the words the politician used... it was the absence of words that fired up an entire movement that lasted for years and changed how police and people interact... and has been blamed for what some call a "war on cops".
Recently I heard a pastor deliver a sermon. It was a fire-and-brimstone sermon from a man who often berates people for no reason. He's a harsh man, quite judgmental, but some of his sermons border eloquence... That day, the fire and brimstone fell short. It was a dismal homily and it was hard to believe that anyone in that church was touched by those words or the delivery...
But months later I heard that same man deliver a homily at the funeral of a young suicide victim. An eighteen-year-old who had taken his own life because of a drug dependence, an addiction, and he felt like he was a complete loser, a complete waste and a disappointment to his whole family... he was the fifth of seven young people who died in my little town last year, from overdoses... And there were 230 deaths in my county alone.
But this isn't about that.... that's another blog. This is about how the words matter so very much. Because they do, you know.
That day, this harsh man gave a beautiful homily/sermon. He talked about the questions we all ask... the deep sorrow, the guilt, the constant "why???" that has no response. And then he spoke to those young people. They were sitting in the back. About four pews filled with them, easily a hundred or more young adults, brokenhearted and there didn't look to be a varsity player or cheerleader in the group, if you get my drift.
He didn't talk to the family right then... he spoke to that gathering of friends. He told them how the worst thing they could do would be to despair and follow their friend into death. That the entire church understands how they feel right now... and how they'll feel in six weeks. Six months. And that the entire church wants them healthy and whole, wants them happy and to have a chance at a full life. And he asked them to come forward at Communion for a blessing. And they did.
Those words mattered. Our words matter. With a slight of pen we can make a sentence bring joy or create anger and unrest. With a choice of banter we can make light of a wretched thing like sexism or racism... or show people standing up for one another and doing the right thing, even when it's the hardest thing to do.
Words matter when we speak them. They matter when we teach with them. And they matter when we write them.
Never take your words lightly. And never underestimate the power of well-written words on a needy society. Gaping holes in society are often filled with words of a hero... or words of a dictator because so many people look for a leader to guide them.
Words can be a blessing or a curse. They can soothe or stir.
That's when the choice comes down to you. What you want. What you hope to attain. What you hope to inspire.
You matter.
Your words matter.
And it is so very important to choose them well, my friends.
Far better to be pleased with the outcome of your inspiration than stunned by havoc wrought...
Unless...
Of course....
Havoc was the goal, after all.
Multi-published, award-winning inspirational author Ruth Logan Herne loves writing stories that touch the heart... and the soul. She lives on a muddy and most prosaic pumpkin farm in Western New York, cleans donkey pens, cares for chickens (only because they lay nice eggs) and is often found with Diet Mt. Dew or coffee because legally caffeinated beverages are her drug of choice. You can talk to her by commenting here... pretty easy, right? Or e-mail her at loganherne@gmail.com, visit her website ruthloganherne.com or friend her on facebook or follow her antics on Twitter.
Last week Mindy Obenhaus talked about the power of Christian fiction and how our words affect others.
That is so true. It's not only true of us, but of anyone who has either the gift of the pen or storytelling or lecture. It's a lark, right? An adventure, ripe for the telling! A chance to spin a yarn.
But the gift of writing and storytelling goes deeper than that. Far deeper.
Years ago a line of Laura Ingalls Wilder stuck with me... how when there was a new teacher in the school, the children were challenging her. Being naughty, as children will. Testing. And Laura slanted them a quick smile of encouragement because the teacher had been sharp with her.
That tiny smile was enough to spur them on to wreak havoc. A classroom run amok. And Laura understood her little smile of approval had fed the fire.
A few years ago a high-ranking politician used faint words of disparagement for law enforcement after a bad situation. It wasn't the words the politician used... it was the absence of words that fired up an entire movement that lasted for years and changed how police and people interact... and has been blamed for what some call a "war on cops".
Recently I heard a pastor deliver a sermon. It was a fire-and-brimstone sermon from a man who often berates people for no reason. He's a harsh man, quite judgmental, but some of his sermons border eloquence... That day, the fire and brimstone fell short. It was a dismal homily and it was hard to believe that anyone in that church was touched by those words or the delivery...
But months later I heard that same man deliver a homily at the funeral of a young suicide victim. An eighteen-year-old who had taken his own life because of a drug dependence, an addiction, and he felt like he was a complete loser, a complete waste and a disappointment to his whole family... he was the fifth of seven young people who died in my little town last year, from overdoses... And there were 230 deaths in my county alone.
But this isn't about that.... that's another blog. This is about how the words matter so very much. Because they do, you know.
That day, this harsh man gave a beautiful homily/sermon. He talked about the questions we all ask... the deep sorrow, the guilt, the constant "why???" that has no response. And then he spoke to those young people. They were sitting in the back. About four pews filled with them, easily a hundred or more young adults, brokenhearted and there didn't look to be a varsity player or cheerleader in the group, if you get my drift.
He didn't talk to the family right then... he spoke to that gathering of friends. He told them how the worst thing they could do would be to despair and follow their friend into death. That the entire church understands how they feel right now... and how they'll feel in six weeks. Six months. And that the entire church wants them healthy and whole, wants them happy and to have a chance at a full life. And he asked them to come forward at Communion for a blessing. And they did.
Those words mattered. Our words matter. With a slight of pen we can make a sentence bring joy or create anger and unrest. With a choice of banter we can make light of a wretched thing like sexism or racism... or show people standing up for one another and doing the right thing, even when it's the hardest thing to do.
Words matter when we speak them. They matter when we teach with them. And they matter when we write them.
Never take your words lightly. And never underestimate the power of well-written words on a needy society. Gaping holes in society are often filled with words of a hero... or words of a dictator because so many people look for a leader to guide them.
Words can be a blessing or a curse. They can soothe or stir.
That's when the choice comes down to you. What you want. What you hope to attain. What you hope to inspire.
You matter.
Your words matter.
And it is so very important to choose them well, my friends.
Far better to be pleased with the outcome of your inspiration than stunned by havoc wrought...
Unless...
Of course....
Havoc was the goal, after all.
Multi-published, award-winning inspirational author Ruth Logan Herne loves writing stories that touch the heart... and the soul. She lives on a muddy and most prosaic pumpkin farm in Western New York, cleans donkey pens, cares for chickens (only because they lay nice eggs) and is often found with Diet Mt. Dew or coffee because legally caffeinated beverages are her drug of choice. You can talk to her by commenting here... pretty easy, right? Or e-mail her at loganherne@gmail.com, visit her website ruthloganherne.com or friend her on facebook or follow her antics on Twitter.
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