I write about Stuff

James 3:10–12 “And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! Does a spring of water bubble out with both fresh water and bitter water? Does a fig tree produce olives, or a grapevine produce figs? No, and you can’t draw fresh water from a salty spring.”

A little boy once wandered over to his pastor’s house while the pastor was hammering away at a carpentry project. The boy stood there silently, watching every move with wide‑eyed intensity. After a few minutes, the pastor chuckled and said, “Son, are you here to learn some carpentry tips?”

“No,” the boy said, “I just want to know what a preacher says when he hits his thumb with a hammer.”

Children have a way of cutting straight to the truth, don’t they? They know what adults sometimes forget: people are watching us. Not just pastors. Not just leaders. Anyone who claims to follow Jesus. And they’re not only watching—they’re listening. Listening for cracks. Listening for inconsistencies. Listening for the moments when our mouths reveal something our Sunday faith tries to hide.

Because what people really want to know is this: Does your faith live in your heart, or only on your lips?

James doesn’t soften the blow. He tells us plainly that blessing and cursing shouldn’t flow from the same mouth. Fresh water and bitter water don’t come from the same spring. Fig trees don’t suddenly sprout olives. Grapevines don’t surprise you with figs. In other words, your words reveal your roots.

And Scripture gives us examples of godly people who struggled with this very thing. Isaiah—faithful, fiery, heaven‑seeing Isaiah—crumbled in God’s presence and cried out, “I am a man of filthy lips, and I live among a people of filthy lips.” Standing before the holiness of God, the first thing he noticed was the unholiness of his words. Joseph, Moses, Peter—giants of the faith—each stumbled with their tongues.

So if they struggled, what hope do we have?

More than you think.

This is where the simple acronym T‑H‑I‑N‑K becomes a lifeline. Before you speak, before you post, before you text, before you fire off that comment—pause long enough to run your words through these five gates:

• T — Is it True? Not “I heard,” not “someone said,” not “I assume.” True.
• H — Is it Helpful? Some things are true but should never be spoken. Truth without love is a weapon, not wisdom.
• I — Is it Inspiring? Will this lift someone up, or push them down? Will it breathe life, or drain it?
• N — Is it Necessary? Not every thought deserves airtime. Silence is often the holiest option.
• K — Is it Kind? Kindness is not weakness. Kindness is strength under the control of the Spirit.

And the best place to begin? Start with the people closest to you—your spouse, your children, your closest friends, your coworkers. Tell them you’re trying to let the love in your heart become more visible in the words you speak. Let them hold you gently accountable.

Some of you might be thinking, “If I applied those five questions to everything I say, I’d hardly say anything at all.” To which I say: Amen. So be it. Sometimes the holiest thing you can offer the world is a quiet mouth and a listening heart.

Because when the Spirit shapes your words, He shapes your witness. And when He shapes your witness, He shapes the world around you.

Discipleship Question — T.H.I.N.K.

Which of the five T‑H‑I‑N‑K questions do you most often skip, and what would change in your relationships this week if you slowed down long enough to honour it?