The Battle Within
“But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.” — James 3:8 (KJV)
Have you ever noticed what your tongue does when you have returned from the dentist or have a sore place in your mouth? Maybe it’s a bad tooth, an extraction, a rough filling, or a spot where you’ve bitten the inside of your cheek. You know it hurts when your tongue touches it, yet somehow it repeatedly returns to that very spot, again and again.
You tell yourself, Leave it alone. A moment later, there it is again—probing, flicking, returning incessantly to the one place you wish it would avoid. You try to stop it, but the tongue seems to have a mind of its own.
The tongue’s stubborn return to that sore tooth may be a humorous example of our inability to tame the physical tongue, but James was warning us about something far more dangerous—the pain our tongue can inflict.
And sometimes our tongue creates a different kind of sore place—a wound our words leave in someone else.
I have to admit I have been guilty of losing control in anger and saying things I later wished I could take back.
My anger eventually subsided, but my words had already escaped—free to take on a life of their own beyond my control. Even an apology could not call them back. Once words leave our mouths, we cannot control where they travel, how they land, how long they are remembered, or the wounds they may leave in their wake.
Knowing I couldn’t call those words back, I attempted to respond differently by avoiding angry verbal confrontations whenever possible. Some may have considered me a wimp—or even a coward. I remember one time when someone’s words wounded me deeply. During the attack, I remained silent. But keeping my mouth shut didn’t silence what was happening inside me. Angry retorts played over and over in my head as I imagined the retaliation I wished I had made. While those unspoken words could not wound the other person or poison the relationship, they did nothing to extinguish the anger still burning inside me. My anger was beginning to grow into something darker.
James makes it clear that no man can tame the tongue. While I may take a small victory in the times I managed to keep angry words from leaving my mouth, I’ve learned that silence alone isn’t enough.
Jesus said, “…out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” (Matthew 12:34 KJV)
What comes from my tongue does not begin there. It begins in my heart. That gives me a deeper understanding of Psalm 19:14:
“Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.” — Psalm 19:14 (KJV)
With God’s help, I have at times been able to restrain “the words of my mouth.” If the verse ended there, I might have a fighting chance.
It’s the next part—“the meditation of my heart”—where the real struggle begins. I may silence my tongue, but that doesn’t silence my thoughts. Long after the other person has stopped speaking, the conversation can still be going on inside me.
Those angry thoughts are not harmless. James describes the untamed tongue as “full of deadly poison.” When I continue dwelling on hurtful words and rehearsing angry responses, I allow that poison to keep circulating through me.
I may have kept myself from retaliating, but I hadn’t prevented the poison from doing its work in me.
What’s the antidote?
For me, the answer was prayer.
I prayed for the person who had hurt me. I wish I could say those first prayers overflowed with love and forgiveness. They didn’t. They were feeble—but I made the start. I knew that if I continued feeding the turmoil building inside me, I could become a bitter, hateful woman. I couldn’t manufacture forgiveness; I needed God to change what I could not change in myself. And I began to understand why Jesus tells us to pray for those who despitefully use us. Those prayers weren’t only about the person who had hurt me. I needed them for my own peace. The change wasn’t immediate. But as I continued to pray, the anger that had been burning inside me slowly began to lose its hold. God was extinguishing a fire I had been unable to put out myself.
With God’s help, I can learn restraint. I can pause before I speak, curb my temper, and sometimes simply keep my mouth shut. That restraint matters—it can keep a moment of anger from becoming words I cannot call back.
But restraint has its limits. It can silence my tongue without quieting my heart.
And that brings me back to Psalm 19:14. It’s not only “the words of my mouth” that I need to surrender to God, but “the meditation of my heart.” When the battle continues inside me, only He can bring peace to my warring heart.
A heart surrendered to God doesn’t leave me with nothing to say. It changes the way I say it.
There have been times I justified hurtful words by telling myself, But it’s true.
Yet truth was never intended to be a weapon. Scripture tells me to speak the truth “in love.” (Ephesians 4:15 KJV) Something can be completely true and still be spoken in a way that embarrasses, belittles, or wounds another person. Being right about what I say does not necessarily make me right in the way I choose to say it.
I once knew a pastor’s wife who had a remarkable gift for speaking truth with grace. On a flight, the passenger beside her continually peppered his conversation with the name “Jesus Christ.” Rather than telling him how offensive she found his language, she gently said, “I think we share a best friend.”
Surprised, he asked, “We do?”
“Yes. Jesus Christ is my best friend.”
Her message was subtle, but he understood. He stopped using Jesus’ name so casually.
She hadn’t changed the truth. She had changed the way it was delivered—with grace.
More than fifty years later, I still remember her words. Gracious words can have a long life too.
What made the difference wasn’t simply the words she chose. It was the heart behind them.
The same tongue that can wound can also speak words of grace. It can apologize. It can encourage. It can pray. It can speak truth in love.
A surrendered tongue can become an instrument of healing.
One word, one prayer, one day at a time.
CLOSING BLESSING:
May God quiet the words that would wound, calm the battles that rage within, and fill your heart with the peace only He can give. May a tongue surrendered to Him speak truth with grace, offer words that heal, and reflect the heart of the One who holds yours.If this post encouraged you, please click Like, leave a comment, and subscribe to Hope in the Journey