Proverbs 18:21 (KJV) declares, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.”
I have read these words many times before, but for years I never truly paused to consider their weight. On a surface level, I understood that the Scripture was encouraging us to speak positively and avoid negative speech. Beyond that, I never really chewed on it deeply enough for it to transform the way I spoke about my life or my circumstances.
That changed one night in a very personal way.
I was lying in bed suffering from an intense headache. It started as a slight, nagging pain—annoying but manageable. Within a short time, however, it blossomed into something far more severe. The pain escalated until it felt as though my head was about to explode. I took painkillers, but they barely made a dent. The lights in the room became unbearable, forcing me to pull the pillow over my head in an attempt to block them out.
As the pain intensified, fear crept in. In my distress, I heard myself saying to my husband, “I don’t think I am going to make it until morning. You’d better take me to the hospital. I know they’re going to admit me.”
The moment those words left my mouth, something shifted. It was as if an internal alarm went off. I immediately thought, “Wait—what am I condemning myself to?” I suddenly realised that in my pain and fear, I had begun to speak death, limitation, and defeat over my own body.
Right then and there, I made a decision.
Summoning whatever strength I had left, I got out of bed and began to worship God. I lifted my voice, praised His name, and declared His goodness—even though the pain seemed to grow worse as I did so. Every instinct told me to stop and focus on the discomfort, but instead, I chose to press into worship. I deliberately shifted my attention away from the pain and fixed it on God.
I worshipped until exhaustion set in. Before lying back down, I consciously canceled the words I had spoken earlier—words of fear and hopelessness—and replaced them with praise and trust in God. Eventually, I fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I realised something remarkable: the headache was completely gone. There was no lingering pain, no heaviness. I got up, went about my day, and even ran errands as usual. What had overwhelmed me just hours earlier had vanished.
That experience etched Proverbs 18:21 into my heart in a way no sermon ever had.
Our words are not harmless. They are powerful. Scripture tells us that we will eat the fruit of what we speak. When we consistently speak fear, defeat, sickness, and failure, we unknowingly co-operate with the very outcomes we are trying to avoid. Conversely, when we speak faith, hope, and truth—even in the midst of pain—we align ourselves with God’s promises.
This does not mean we deny reality or pretend that challenges do not exist. Pain is real. Struggles are real. But there is a difference between acknowledging a situation and allowing it to define our future through careless words.
I want to encourage anyone reading this who may be facing illness, emotional distress, financial pressure, or a situation that seems to be going from bad to worse. Be mindful of what you say over your life. In moments of weakness, fear can easily hijack our speech—but we must remember that our words can either build a road forward or become a roadblock.
Speak life, even when it feels unnatural. Praise God, even when it seems difficult. Declare His truth over your situation, not because everything looks good, but because He is faithful.
Life and death truly are in the power of the tongue. Choose life.
