How the Spirit Turns Words into Care

Driving down the road, one mile and one prayer at a time.

This morning a driver called about a routing change. I pulled up her route. I notice the change she wanted to make included a pass by her house that only added ten miles. I asked, in a snarky little way, “Are you trying to go through the house?”

Her voice cracked. Tears came. She had trouble at home. She did need to stop. She got a little defensive, like I was accusing her of something.

So, I slowed down. I told her I was not judging her. I said I only saw the route was a few extra miles. Dinner at home crossed my mind. Or a quick load of laundry. Something simple. I did not see the bigger problem she had sitting under those miles.

Through the tears she asked me to repeat myself. I did. I softened my voice and with a slower, kinder tone, I repeated what I said. By the end, her voice settled. She thanked me for thinking about her like a person, not a number.

That small call stayed with me all day. Words build bridges. Words build walls. I have lived both.

Last Saturday was All Saints Day. During Mass, the Lord pressed the word ‘language‘ on my heart. Two scenes rose up. The tower of Babel in Genesis. Pentecost in Acts.

“Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and so make a name for ourselves” (Genesis 11:4). The aim sits on self. Make a name. Climb high. Control the scene. Then the break arrives. “That is why it was called Babel, because there the Lord confused the speech of all the world. From there the Lord scattered them over the face of the whole earth” (Genesis 11:9). Words slip. Ears close. People drift.

“And they were all filled with the holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim” (Acts 2:4). A crowd gathers. “Each one heard them speaking in his own language” (Acts 2:6). No one loses a mother tongue. God gives real understanding inside real difference.

Then during Communion, we sang Be Not Afraid. “You shall speak your words in foreign lands, and all will understand. You shall see the face of God and live.” I heard Pentecost in that line. A “foreign land” might mean a home under strain. An office under stress. A hospital hallway. A school parking lot. God knows each place.

Here is the simple truth I keep close. Babel shows speech with self at the center. Pentecost shows speech with God at the center. Pride talks to win. Love speaks to serve. Pride rushes. Love listens. Either story can show up in just one sentence.

I have thrown jargon to end hard talks. Walls went up. Then I have asked one honest question. Doors opened. Small moves produce different fruit.

The saints remind me to keep things plain. Francis used simple words. Thérèse chose little words. Mother Teresa leaned on gentle words. No need to impress. Love always came through. The Spirit carried those words farther than feet could carry a person.

The Catechism helps me nail this down. The Spirit reveals the Church and gathers the scattered into unity in Christ (CCC 731, 732). The same Spirit sends the Church to every people and culture for mission and communion (CCC 768). Unity does not erase difference. Unity brings hearts to one table in Christ.

Think of a key. Pride grabs the wrong key and fights the lock. The door stays locked. But prayer places the right key in the lock. Turn once, the door opens. No force. No noise. Just the right key at the right time.

That is what I tried on the phone. One short breath. One short prayer. Come, Holy Spirit. Then one right line for that moment. Not a speech. One line.

Scripture gives a steady guardrail. “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6). Salt keeps food from spoiling. Gracious words keep relationships from spoiling. Not flattery. Not hiding truth. Truth with mercy.

I lean on a promise as well. “You will receive power when the holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8). Power looks like love in motion. Witness looks like words and actions in one line. The Spirit supplies both.

If language trips you, do not lose heart. God is gentle. Prayer lifts your voice to the Father, even when words feel thin. Stay faithful. Grace works in quiet ways.

If sharp talk wears you down at home or at work, try just one conversation. Begin with thanks. One real “thank you” before any request. Rooms change when gratitude walks in first.

Late this afternoon I almost sent a angry, blunt email about a delayed payment for a claim. I stopped, added one line of thanks for the work already done, and asked a single clear question. The reply came back fast and kind. Problem solved. Check in the mail. No sparks. That is the difference I want more of.

Here is a simple path for the week. Pray in the morning. Come, Holy Spirit, teach me how to speak today. Keep that prayer close.

Choose one conversation to slow down. One person. One moment. Ask one clear question and listen to the end.

Before you send a sharp text or email, wait one minute. Trim the extra words. Add one line of respect. Send it with a steady heart.

If someone shares pain, thank them for that trust. Offer one sentence of hope. If you can, pray one short prayer with them.

I will keep the driver in my prayers tonight. Lord, bless her home and her route. Keep her safe and set things right at home.

Always remember that language belongs to God. The Father speaks creation. The Son speaks salvation. The Spirit gives us words that build communion.

Come, Holy Spirit. Guide my tongue. Guard my heart. Help me speak love today.