The Power Of Words

    I believe that words have power. Every day, we use words to communicate with others face-to-face or through text messages, listen to the words in song lyrics, and read the words posted online or written in books. Words allow us to connect and understand each other as we express our thoughts and feelings, and they also influence whether those connections are strengthened or destroyed. 

    Since my early childhood, I have had an exceptionally good memory. One might think this would be amazing, but it has its drawbacks. Something random can trigger my mind to seemingly travel back in time to feel the same hurt or happiness I initially felt. Words mimic a song playing on repeat sometimes. Some words painfully left scars, but others were a great encouragement to me. The impact words have had on my life has taught me the importance of choosing my words more cautiously, whether they be directed toward myself or another. I believe that words have the potential to heal, as expressive writing and talking through life's problems can be healthy coping mechanisms. Of course, there are times when the advice of Thumper, the little rabbit in the classic children's movie Bambi, should be followed: "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all." Still, we must also realize that when we leave kind words unspoken, we have missed an opportunity, for all of those kind words that should have been said could have made a positive impact. The chances we have to use our words to encourage others, make a difference in their lives, and tell them what they mean to us are limited. 

    As Christmas is quickly approaching, a special memory comes to mind. It was Christmas Eve of 2016 and I had spent hours designing personalized calendars for each of my grandparents throughout the month of December, yet I had still not finished the calendar for my pawpaw. In fact, I had not even started working on it and part of me was worried about how he might react, because he often dealt with paranoid thoughts about photos. Even so, I felt the Holy Spirit strongly prompting me to make the calendar anyway, so I pushed myself and finished it that afternoon. On Christmas morning, my pawpaw came to eat breakfast with my family. After we had visited for a while, I slipped away for a few minutes and carefully wrapped his special gift. When I returned, I remember smiling brightly as I explained to him that it seemed to me that he was always the one doing the giving and that I had something for him to open. I handed him his present and told him that I had made it because I wanted him to know how much I loved him and appreciated his being my grandparent. The calendar was filled with pictures of us, mostly from my childhood, so he could look at them each day of the next year. The smile on his face and his eagerness to look through the photos was priceless. However, it was not until later that I realized why God must have wanted me to follow through with making that calendar before Christmas Day. The next day, my pawpaw passed away unexpectedly. Although he did not live to see that calendar on a single day in 2017, I understood that it was not about the calendar, but rather letting my pawpaw know how much he meant to me before my opportunity to do so was lost.

     I feel that this memory from my life can serve as a powerful reminder of the importance of not allowing the words that are on our hearts to say to be left unspoken, because the future is uncertain. I cannot recall a time in my life when I have regretted sharing something that was on my heart to express, whether it was in face-to-face conversation or in a message, letter, or social media post. Although the impact is sometimes left unknown, I believe that our words carry the potential to either lift or destroy another, and perhaps even make a life-or-death impact on someone's life in some situations. Therefore, I believe we should pay careful attention to the things we say because words are truly a powerful thing—words can be either a blessing or a curse.

❃ιт’ѕ тнє ℓιттℓє тнιиgѕ❃

What makes me different? 

What makes me feel so misunderstood? Why do I feel like the “weird one” or the “misfit”? Or better yet, what makes me 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to fit in so much? 

I’ve given these questions a great deal of thought as I begin a new chapter of my life. I hope that sharing this little piece of my story today will be an encouragement and inspiration for you.

One of the ways I’m different is that I’ve always been the “little” one...the shortest one....the one no one ever seemed to understand....I was held to a high standard of my biological age by some, and yet “babied” by others because I was so tiny. I felt like very few people truly accepted or understood me. I was that one who just didn’t fit in, you know? I would’ve been one of the lost and forgotten toys on the “island of misfit toys.” I could have mature conversations, but yet I wasn’t socially ready to be with peers even close to my biological age. It caused me great anxiety and stress anytime I ever tried. ...not to mention, kids can be quite cruel to one another. I dreaded being asked how old I was for years because the typical response was “liar!” or something to that extent. It all bothered me so much when I was younger.... I couldn’t understand why no one would “accept me for me”...but as I got older, it made more sense though, and I started realizing and accepting that I was just too complicated and that a lot of people just wouldn’t understand me.

But to be honest, I didn’t accept myself anymore than I felt like most people did. I hated myself....I literally looked in the mirror and wished nearly everything about me was different. ....even my hair...well, especially my hair! (I always said I was gonna dye it brown when I grew up because it got too much attention than I liked getting as a child) I hated my body, my skin, my hair, my freckles, my teeth, my height, my age, my anxiety issues, and probably a ton of others if I think about it longer. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to fit in...and I wanted that in a sense that I just wanted to be accepted and no longer judged for who I was, and well...that went far beyond merely the age pressure issue. Well, I mean, who doesn’t want to feel understood? I think most people do. There was a time that I would simply say “I’m so backward!” all the time. That was just my way of saying that I was “weird”...or “different.” I am physically and socially delayed 3yrs (intellectually, I’ve always been as mature as my biological age though)... I was diagnosed when I was 4yrs old. So I guess that makes me a little different...I often feel like I’m actually my brother’s twin (he’s 4yrs younger) with a wrong birth certificate year date. (I guess that’s why we are so close! I often imagine that we’re twins because we look so much alike and get along so well 😆) ...other times I feel that my thoughts are like that of someone even older than me. I tend to feel most comfortable with friends 2-8yrs younger than me. An example of this that I’ll never forget is when I attempted to go in a class with my biological age group and felt so insecure that I sat frozen like a statue for the entire hour. The next week, I went in a similar class with kids 3yrs younger than my biological age...I felt totally comfortable and that’s where I met my best friend. We’ve been BFF’s for the past 5yrs! I’ve always struggled with the social norms that came along with the age pressure, from even before I lost my very first tooth at age 8 to getting my drivers license at 19...and it got me so discouraged at times. I felt torn between doing things that were “truly me” and doing things when I felt I was actually ready for them ...and fitting into the “normal world” and caving into the pressure of all the people around me who questioned me about things and then proceeded to make condescending remarks to me after hearing my response. From time to time, whenever I felt insecure about my age pressure situation, I’d ask my mom how old I seemed to her, and she’d reply most often with something like “To me, you aren’t defined by any age. To me, you’re Abby.” And that was the most comforting thing anyone ever said to me. Many people have quoted that “good things come in small packages” over the years when the subject came up in attempt to help me feel better about my height...and of course, I would instantly imagine myself inside a gift box or perhaps a suitcase... that I actually could fit in. 😆🎁🧳 

But it wasn’t until recently, that I truly understood just how much those “little things” matter...

I always love to think of life as a puzzle....because it puts into perspective that it’s neither the details nor the big picture alone.....but that everything matters. All the little details make a difference and help to complete the big picture in the end. Life is much the same....as we travel through the journey, we collect new pieces and eventually there are enough pieces to put together to make a story....but there’s only one way they fit together flawlessly ...and I like to imagine that the finished puzzle is God’s plan. Some of the pieces, I imagine, are the positive people or events in life and others are negative people or events in life. It takes many pieces to finally see the big picture but in the end it’s worth it all. No one has the same picture as someone else and that’s what makes our lives so precious! Although some of us have differences that are publicly known, some of our differences are only noticed by we ourselves or those close to us...some are internal, others external, while still many others are totally invisible. We’re all unique in some way or another because God made us that way! Imagine how boring the world would be if everyone was exactly the same. I don’t think anyone should have to feel ashamed of their “weird” qualities for fear of how others will respond or whether or not they accept them. Sometimes I feel like our own insecurities just may be the very things that make us so special. Remember that without that tiniest piece of a puzzle, the puzzle cannot be completed! Every person has an opportunity to be a piece in someone else’s puzzle too....and the choice to be a positive or negative one. Your words, your story, your life...all of it matters! 

In the end, I believe that character matters more than reputation, because your character is who you are, while your reputation is what others think you are. Positive or negative...what really happens behind closed doors makes an impact. And all those sweet little ways you show kindness to others matter!...whether others are watching or not....and whether you think so or not! After all, God sees everything that happens. 

Sometimes it’s the simplest things that matter most....the littlest things that make all the difference in the world....

And well...I guess that includes “little me” too. As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned to accept myself a little more for being the person I am.... and now I don’t wanna dye my hair brown to be exactly like Mommy. haha (I actually learned to love my hair and started braiding it when I was 12)...I’m unique and that’s how God made me. I’m different in a million ways and that’s okay. I shouldn’t ever worry what others think because even though they might choose to not understand me, I know that God knows everything and He understands me and all the things that I often feel that no one else possibly could. I’m far from perfect. I have flaws and scars and I’ve made mistakes, but I’m not defined by any of that...I’m not defined by my reputation, my physical qualities, my insecurities, or my imperfections. I’m defined by my character: who I really am, because that’s who God sees me as and that’s what matters. I still have hard days and I’m still learning to love myself throughout all the difficult lessons of life’s journey and I’m working hard to become a better person everyday. ...but despite all the struggles, I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s because God has a plan and a purpose for all of it, and I trust that He’s going to help me come out stronger because of it. 

Thanks for reading this to the end....I wrote this last week and was debating if I should open up about this little piece of my story since I haven’t ever really felt comfortable to share it before, but I hope it will, in some way, help whoever reads it to realize that you’re special and you have a purpose, even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. Your worth isn’t defined by how others see you. Don’t give up! Also, thank you to the people who accept me for who I am despite being different. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. ♥️