I grew up in a home where bad words were not what I would call bad.  My mother’s favorite bad word was “Foot”.  Literally, she would say, “Oh Foot”, when she was frustrated or angry.  So you may understand why then, if I said cr#$, or dan% it, I would get the look.  (Just so you know, I was afraid of the look.)  Moving into my future, I moved out and began to decide on my own just what bad language was.  It’s so interesting to me, that I have now turned into my mother.


      I raised my daughters to not say bad words.  As they got older, I didn’t pay much attention to the fact that I got quite lax on their language requirements.  It became more like, don’t say that in front of your grandma.  (I was still afraid of the look.)  Oh, how I wish I had been more strict.  I could have and should have been a better example for my daughters.  I should have said to them what my dad said to me, “Bonnie Ellen, if you can’t think of a better word to use, it shows your intelligence level”. (Another Look)


      Fast forward, now I’m on staff at a church.  When I was hired on, that was the first thing I realized I needed to deal with.  Ridiculous right?  Not really, I was immediately convicted.  Now don’t be thinking your worship leader was going around dropping f-bombs all the time.  I was not.  However, I seriously needed to think about what anyone’s first impression of me would be with my speech, and then to find out I was a WL.  Good night a livin.


      Ephesians 4:29 says, Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.  Then Ephesians 5:4 says, Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.  So, not only are bad words out, keep opinions to yourself.  Don’t join in on gossip, etc.  You get the picture.


      Our language is just the tip of a large iceberg.   I’m doing pretty well on the bad word front.  I have adopted a couple phrases that would make my mother proud.  Ask me on Sunday and I’ll share them with you, but guys, How are we talking to each other?  Are our words lifting each other up?  Are we coming alongside our friends and family with encouragement?  Are we praying for each other, or are we standing in groups talking about the things we know about others?  I’m not preaching, I’m talking to myself.  The world will know us by our fruit.  What kind of fruit are we sharing?  Is it nice and ripe and good to taste or is it rotten and drawing flies?  I’m going to keep working on it. 

I don’t want to eat soap.

Bonnie Smith
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