Beautiful Influence by Tracy Williamson

 As someone who was told repeatedly when I was young that I was mental, stupid. lazy, unlovable and a mistake, I grew up with the feeling that it was best to hide myself away and speak as little as possible.  Over time those ugly words became immensely powerful in that I didn't just hear them being shouted over me, but I believed they were true.  

Such words became my identity, I thought about them, I mulled them over in my mind and heart.  I allowed my self view to be shaped by them.  I made life choices under their influence and I nearly took my life as a result of their message of hate.

But in the midst of this devastating power of destructive words, I discovered the whisper of love and beauty. of hope and wonder, of adventure and mystery of reconciliation and restoration and of trust and faith.  I discovered the power and influence of the written word which I began to immerse myself in, to grab hold of and virtually eat.  And from inside out I began to change to grow, to know my own mind and heart and to be.

Early on books became a solace and an escape.  I would read Enid Blyton or Elinor M Brent Dyer, Arthur Ransome or JRR Tolkien and somehow the characters' adventures and  courage and the books constant messages of good prevailing over bad, would reach beyond my scared little heart and awaken dreams of things I thought I could only long for.  Yet somehow, because they were written down their hope became imaginable and something I could reach out for.

I wonder if sometimes we fail to really perceive how influential our words may be?  When David jotted down some words one dark night about the Lord being his shepherd, guiding, caring for and protecting him, I wonder if he had any idea of the billions of hearts across aeons of ages those scribbled words would comfort?  When Solomon sang to his beloved 'how beautiful you are, my darling, O how beautiful.' did he see the way the Lord would take those words and use them as a beautiful, holy glue to restore the shattered shards of human identity?

Do we know that the very random words and phrases we use as we write our stories, jot down our ideas, fill our journals and explore our hearts have the power to impact and influence others far beyond our expectations?  We may feel nothing much in ourselves  but somehow God has placed this incredible tool in our hands to restore, set free and heal.  Through our words the lonely can know what it means to be embraced; the blind can suddenly see the awesome majesty of a new day; the deaf can hear the whispering crescendo of a beautiful piece of music; the thwarted and rejected can know the thrill of being wanted and chosen.  

'For God so loved the world that He gave. . .'

God

So loved

The world.

That means me!

Why, God?'

'Because I Am Love.  Because I love you.  Because you are safe now in my everlasting arms.   The old has gone.  The new has come.'

The Bible writers discovered the power of sharing their journey into God's heart by putting words down on paper and so touching, healing, ministering, challenging, restoring and comforting all who read them

We can do the same and know that in a few days, a year, a hundred years a millennia, our words may bring someone the glimmer of hope, the touch of love they need.

Here are a few words, like a psalm, that I jotted down at the very start of my Christian journey, feeling the old pain, seeing the things around me and suddenly seeing and hearing how God was in them for me:

When the fire dies down and the embers glow

When the rain subsides and the cool winds blow,

When the moon and the sun both adorn the sky,  with the silver-gold glory no money can buy

then my heart is torn by peace and by strife

As I compare this scene with the tumult of my life.

The lakes and the lands so serenely sway, to the tune of the winds of each created day

But my soul is so numb from sorrow and from pain

As the old hurts well up to be forced down again

And I will smile and laugh as I choke back the tears

and will bitterly reject those past fading years.

As the trees stand black against the moonlit sky,

My spirit yearns within is a desperate cry.

then suddenly, I hear, the still voice of my Lord

As He speaks into my heart, 'Come to me my beloved child.'

And now, as I gaze upon that wild beauty outside

See the erupting stillness of the fast flowing tide

When I hear the piercing sweetness of the lark's golden call

When I touch the dewy softness of the newly opened petal.

Then my soul throbs with gladness and is flooded with strange joy

For I now know the Lord Jesus, He is answering my heart's cry.  1983

Tracy Williamson is deaf and partially sighted and works with blind singer/songwriter Marilyn Baker for the music and teaching itinerant ministry MBM Trust www.mbm-ministries.org