Growing up in my small church school, there were two verses that were drilled into my brain: “Life and death are in the power of the tongue” and “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” We knew from a young age not to let anything come out of our mouths that could cause something — or someone — to start dying. And if it did come out of your mouth, it was because your heart meant it.

But somewhere along the way, I couldn’t translate that truth into understanding the gravity of verbal and emotional abuse. There was a disconnect. By the time my ex-husband came into the picture, I honestly hadn’t had a verbal argument or disagreement worth remembering — certainly nothing over the top. And I absolutely had not been taught how to handle someone who was abusive.

What I didn’t know, and what left me vulnerable to an abusive marriage, was that I could set boundaries. I had never been taught that. I also didn’t have emotionally mature parents who modeled how to resolve conflict or work through hard conversations in a healthy way.

What I did see from an early age was that when I shared my heart — and it made others uncomfortable — I was often met with manipulation. My vulnerability was shut down and twisted until I felt bad for even expressing it. Still, there wasn’t some glaring issue in my upbringing that screamed danger. I was just naïve. I didn’t recognize the warning signs that my life was about to be obliterated by someone’s tongue — and it would take every last piece of identity and self-worth I had to navigate a way out before it was too late.

The Power of Words

One thing I did understand from childhood was the damage the tongue can do. Proverbs is filled with warnings about it — right alongside instructions to stay away from promiscuous women. Watch your tongue. Guard your words.

But what I didn’t yet understand was that the body is just the shell that carries life. Real life is destroyed when someone’s soul and mind are separated from their identity as a beloved child of God. That destruction often comes — not by fists — but by words.

Even our Constitution says we have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But think about it: life itselfisn’t actually protected unless it’s physical. There are consequences if you stop someone’s breath through physical force. But what about the personhood inside? The dreams, the vision, the spark in their eyes, the light that glows when they see someone they love, the voice, the heart, the soul? Those aren’t protected.

Words can dim that light. They can cause someone to doubt their thoughts, their voice, and their worth. When someone is stripped of love, safety, and belonging — and silenced by the words of another — their life begins to fade, even if their heart is still beating. You can absolutely kill a person’s spirit and snuff out their light — and they’ll still be walking around with a pulse.

Abuse matters.

It’s not just a slip of the tongue. It’s the abundance of the heart. It’s declaring death. And yet in the church, we minimize it. We reduce it to “harsh words” or “conflict,” when in reality, it is decimating the Body of Christ — our marriages, our families, our children.

We are watching husbands turn against wives, fathers against children, believers against one another. And we are watching in silence as parts of the Body bleed out — wounded, rotting, unable to function.

It’s Time to Call It What It Is

It’s time to shine a light. To clear the fog. To expose the enemy’s tactics in our homes and in our congregations.

We need to call it what it is — and issue a rally cry against it.

The Church must become a hospital for the hurting, a rehab for the broken, and a recommissioning center for the overcomers — those who rise and shine the light for others. Young adults need tools and strategies to stop perpetuating these cycles. Children need different models. Survivors need spaces to be believed and made whole.

The future of a healed and spotless Bride of Christ hinges on this.

This mission is the first commandment: loving God, and loving others. The violence hidden in hearts and unleashed through tongues must be exposed. The whitewashed tombs must be cracked open. The lies passed from one child of God to another must be exchanged for truth.

When we finally walk in the maturity to love one another well, restoration begins.

And when we hand that restoration to the next generation, we step into who we were always meant to be:

Children of God. Whole. Free. Alive.