Nicole Kropf

“Words matter…If they were pointless, then they couldn’t start revolutions and they wouldn’t change history. If they were just words, we wouldn’t write songs or listen to them. We wouldn’t beg to be read to as kids. If they were just words, then stories wouldn’t have been around since before we could write. We wouldn’t have learned to write. If they were just words, people wouldn’t fall in love because of them, feel bad because of them, ache because of them, and stop aching because of them.” – From Words in Deep Blue by Cath Crowley

I’ve been quiet for awhile. You see, I believe in the great power of words. And our world is so noisy right now. I didn’t want to be just another shouting voice in the midst of this cacophony of chaos. I only want to write if I have something worth saying. The problem with that is my human inclination to deem myself unworthy – to question every thought, to wonder if my words ever really matter, to doubt that anyone is listening at all. The noise within my own mind is enough to keep anyone silent.

But words do matter. So I want to share a personal story with you all.

I was standing in a checkout line. It had been a crazy long week. My husband had been busy with different things each night so on top of working a full time job, I was full time parenting, and busy preparing meals, doing laundry, and trying to clean up the house for coming guests. Because I work from home, I literally had not left the house aside from bus runs. It was a long week and I was already exhausted going into the weekend. Travis had a ball tournament so I knew I was going to be solo-parenting then too. The kids had been given some birthday money so I thought I’d take them to Walmart to choose how to spend it. This was the first time I dared take the kids out to a store since the pandemic started. But I was desperate to get out of the house and this seemed like a great way to spend a morning.

As we were waiting in the checkout line, I was careful to stay behind the line of tape on the ground. I noticed the person ahead of me was checking out and so being careful to remain behind the line, I started placing our items on the conveyor belt. The woman ahead of me immediately turned around, glared, and shouted at me, “You’re supposed to wait until I’m done!” I quickly glanced down and checked that my feet were behind the line. I looked back up and noted that there was much more than 6 feet between her and I. And though I wanted in that instant to speak sharply right back, I simply apologized and removed my things from the conveyor belt. I was so taken aback that I was nearly in tears, so I turned my back to the woman. My son tearing up himself, said, “Mama, why is that woman yelling at you? Why is she being mean?”

She didn’t know that it had been a heavy week for me. She didn’t know that I was nervous taking my kids out in public. She didn’t know that I couldn’t be home for another minute without losing my mind. She didn’t know that we were trying to carve out a special morning birthday shopping. She didn’t know. And I didn’t know where she was coming from either. So I looked at my son, and I said, “Maybe she’s a little bit nervous about the virus.”

And while the kids and I stood there, in shocked silence, a couple next to us noticed our discomfort and started to chat with us. They asked about the toys the kids were purchasing and wished them both happy birthdays. They smiled – and they told me that it was ok. They spoke light into that moment of overwhelm. And they reminded me that words have power.

Things are dark right now. They are heavy. Life is far from normal and we are all in different stages of survival mode. This is not what we had hoped for this year.

But.

In the midst of the turmoil- in the middle of racial tensions, political rivalries, and a worldwide pandemic, we have a choice to make. Will we be a voice of anger? Will we push others away? Will we enable the darkness?

Or.

Will we be the kind voice of reassurance? Will we see the person behind the mask? Will we speak light and bring encouragement? Will we lean into understanding and grace? Will we love – wholeheartedly, no holds barred?

That’s the choice. On which side of 2020 will we choose to stand? How will we harness the power of our words?

I think most of us have a lot of questions right now. I think we are all a little bewildered. I think that many of us are maybe even a little scared. And for the record, none of us wear fear well. It is an awful and cumbersome accessory to carry round your neck. And it often shows up looking a great deal like anger.

Friends, we don’t have to know all of the answers to know that kindness is one of them. We don’t have to see the future to know that it will be made better by our love. Fear is much lighter when the weight of it is shared amongst trusted companions. And the rough edges of anger are softened by an understanding heart. We are better together.

2020 doesn’t have to be the year that breaks us. It doesn’t have to be the time that turns us forever against one another. Instead, couldn’t we make it the year that we banded together? Couldn’t we make love our anthem and caring our rhythm? Couldn’t we show up with courage for those who’ve been knocked down, and side-lined, and quieted? Couldn’t we be better than all the things that have broken us?

Maybe it’s not time for silence, maybe it’s not time for shouting. Maybe it’s time for a quiet whisper of unity. Maybe, just maybe, we need to rise from our knees, dust off our shoulders, and grab hold of those around us. Maybe we need to lean on one another. Maybe our solid footing is found only when we band together. Maybe 2020 came not to destroy us but to teach us.

On the darkest of nights, every lost and lonely soul is just searching for another to hold dear. Let’s hang on to one another, my dears. Let’s make space for love to win. Let’s whisper powerful words of encouragement, and kindness, and gratitude. And may that whisper grow until it becomes a mighty wave. One that washes away the shouts of anger.