Key Verse: “Some people make cutting remarks, but the
words of the wise bring healing.” (v.18)
The rain was soft, misting the sidewalks and turning the city into a blur of gray and wet reflections. Steam rose from the sidewalk vents, curling like lazy smoke, and the smell of roasted garlic and olive oil hit me the moment I stepped into the small, dimly lit restaurant.
Solomon was already at a corner table near the window. He waved me over, a warm smile that softened the chill in my chest. He slid his leather notebook across the table toward me, its corners softened with age and careful handling.
“Glad you made it through the drizzle,” he said. “Today’s reading is a bit… lively.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Lively?”
Before he could answer, another figure entered—tall, sharply-dressed, with an aura of impatience that made my teeth grit. Solomon gestured subtly. “Ethan... meet Gideon, I invited him to join us. He’s been... wrestling with these proverbs. Sometimes he sees them as idealistic, even impractical.”
Gideon sank into the seat across from Solomon, arms crossed. I reached out and shook his hand. His hand closed firmly around mine—not a bone-crusher, but not limp either.
“I don’t get it,” Gideon said bluntly. “Life is messy. People lie, cheat, talk behind each other’s backs. Wisdom doesn’t change that.”
Solomon’s smile never faltered. He tapped the notebook lightly and leaned forward. “And yet, there are those who do change it. By their labor, their words, their care for the small things. Proverbs 12:11–20 speaks to that. Listen to v.18—‘Some people make cutting remarks, but the words of the wise bring healing.’ Wisdom is not passive. It works, it speaks, it restores.”
I traced the grain of the table. “So… you’re saying just saying nice things fixes everything?”
Solomon’s gaze held mine, patient but firm. “Not ‘nice.’ Truthful. Constructive. Healing, even if it cuts. Fools speak to wound. The wise speak to restore.”
Gideon snorted. “Words don’t heal. Hard work doesn’t fix the world. People exploit each other.”
I could feel my own tension rising, but Solomon’s eyes caught mine again, the world around us seeming to slow just a little. “Watch her,” he said, nodding toward the woman at the next table, her laptop open, muttering as she typed furiously. “She works hard, yes, but fury is her constant companion. A kind word, a patient instruction, a calm explanation—subtle, yes, but far more powerful than fury.”
Gideon shifted uncomfortably, leaning back but staying put. “So you’re saying words matter more than results?”
“Words and results are partners,” Solomon replied, tapping the table twice. “Work without wisdom can destroy; words without action are hollow. The wise labor to build, speak to heal, and act to sustain. Fools chase illusions, spread lies, and leave destruction behind.”
Gideon fell silent, but his eyes followed Solomon’s every movement. I realized he wasn’t leaving—he was listening, skeptical but present.
Solomon opened his notebook and slid it toward us. Sketches of two paths—one jagged and dark, one steady and light—filled the page. “Some people chase instant success, illusions, gossip, shortcuts. Their path is loud and messy. Others work with intention, speak to restore, and choose patience. Quietly, steadily, their lives bring life to others.”
I looked at Gideon. He still had that edge of doubt, that tightly wound energy, but he was leaning in now, however slightly. I knew this wouldn’t happen overnight, but the fact he didn’t storm off seemed already like progress.
Solomon’s voice softened as he leaned back. “Some people make cutting remarks,” he said, almost in a whisper now, “but the words of the wise bring healing. Carry that with you today.”
Solomon leaned in, voice quiet but firm, “A cutting remark isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper behind someone’s back, a joke at their expense, a text meant to humiliate. But the wise word—it might correct, it might challenge, it might point out the hard truth—but it leaves the person standing, not broken.”
Solomon leaned back, letting the low hum of the restaurant fill the silence. “Tomorrow,” he said, tapping his notebook lightly, “we’ll explore verses 21–28—how integrity, careful speech, and steady living shape not just our own lives, but the communities around us. It’s about the ripple effect of what we say and do, and the difference between walking a path that harms and one that brings life.”
His silver-blue eyes shifted to Gideon, who had been quiet for a while. “I’d like you to join us again, Gideon. You may find some of these ideas challenging, even frustrating—but if you stick with it, you might see how wisdom actually works in the messy reality you live in.”
The rain had stopped when I stepped back outside. The city looked the same, wet and gray—but somehow quieter, steadier. Healing was possible. Words mattered. Patience mattered. And Gideon—well, Gideon might just learn that too, one conversation at a time.
What? Some words wound, but wise words bring restoration. Hard work paired with truth and care produces life; lies and laziness produce harm.
So What? In emails, texts, office chatter, or casual remarks, we influence others more than we realize. Speaking to wound leaves scars; speaking to build leaves life.
Now What? Today, find one moment to speak a word that restores, clarifies, or encourages someone—intentionally, honestly, and without expecting anything in return. Watch how it shifts the energy around you.
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