Crush. Kill. Destroy.

I'm reminded again of the fragility of the human spirit, and the enduring power of words.

My eldest cousin was the perpetrator of many dangerous, painful, inappropriate, and grievous crimes against my body and spirit.  One of her most enduring legacies in my life (at least of the ones I'm willing to share publicly) was generated through a collection of dolls she had at her house--Johnny & Jane West.

The accessory pieces were often tiny and rather fragile for young hands.  I accidentally broke a piece of Jane West's horse tack while unsaddling her horse.  For the remainder of my visit, my cousin walked around me when no adults were present, and she flailed her arms like Robby the Robot in the Lost In Space re-run we had viewed the day before.  

"Crush. Kill. Destroy."

She cruelly repeated the words over and over again, and never truly forgave my offense.

Lost in Space 

In the TV show, Robby the Robot had run amuck and was out to destroy everything in his path.  He was dangerous and willful. He was inhuman and virtually inhumane--capable of nothing better.

Fast forward 40 years.

This has been a rough week marked by some relational misunderstandings and consequent strife...not a happy time.  For days I couldn't put my finger on it, but this morning I realized that the core-slashing wound of those words--words which were compounded and supported by even worse yet similar ones at home--were speaking out from the dead place in my soul where they resided...right next to the sorrow over having accidentally wounded a loved one.  "Crush. Kill. Destroy."  Repeat ad nauseum.

Of course, it is my job to reply to that message with God's Truth about me--with the love and comfort that the Almighty has for a badly mistreated little girl, and the wisdom He has for the woman she's become.  Still, I am reminded again, today, of the power that words have to harm or to heal.  I am reminded to study and be judicious with my own words. 

Be careful out there.

Proverbs 18:21

The Message (MSG)

 ²¹ Words kill, words give life;
   they're either poison or fruit—you choose.