Annie F. Downs - Speak Love: Your Words Can Change the World

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ZONDERVAN

Speak Love

Copyright 2013, 2020 by Annie F. Downs

Portions of this book were previously published with the titles Speak Love and Speak Love Revolution (Copyright 2013 by Annie F. Downs)

Requests for information should be addressed to:

Zondervan, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

Hardcover ISBN 978-0-310-76940-8

Audio ISBN 978-0-310-76926-2

Ebook ISBN 978-0-310-76942-2

Epub Edition January 2020 9780310769422

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.Zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

Scripture quotations marked The Message are from The Message. Copyright by Eugene H. Peterson 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Stories told in this book are retold to the best of the authors memory. Due to the nature of some stories, certain names have been changed.

Beth Moore passage on taken from Believing God: Experiencing a Fresh Explosion of Faith by Beth Moore (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group, 2004), session eight.

Passages on . Copyright 1955, 1985 by C. S. Lewis (Pte) Limited. Used by permission.

Epigraph on . Copyright John Hunt Publishing, Ltd., New Alresford, Hants, UK.

Excerpt on .

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Published in association with KLO Publishing Service, LLC (www.KLOPublishing.com).

Interior design: Denise Froehlich

Printed in China

20 21 22 23 24 / LPC / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To Beth Moore.

This is my Gilgal.

Contents

H e was the cute guy in my circle of my friends. He had that hair, the great personality, was a Christian, and could sing and play guitar. What wasnt to like? I remember going to a youth event one afternoon with my sister. There were hundreds of kids there, but I wanted to hang out with our group, particularly cause Mr. Awesome would be there. When we first walked in, I saw him far off with everyone else. They saw me and I immediately headed over. Everyone was laughing and joking, and I figured we were about to have an amazing time.

As I got closer I realized that they werent welcoming me, and while they were joking it was far from funny. See, they had recently found out about my tic condition, Tourette syndrome, and thought it would be hilarious to mock my twitches when I walked up. I was humiliated and wanted to cry, so I looked over at you-know-who hoping he would notice, bail me out, tell them to quit. He looked at me and blurted out, Retard! starting the laughter all over again.

I cant begin to tell you how much I wish homeboy had some Annie F. Downs in his life. Yes, this book may be for girls, but lets be real: everyones going to love it and the whole universe can relate to it. Weve all heard someone say something mean, or maybe thought it or said it ourselves, or maybe even been the victim of cruel words. Its a moment where we realize that what we say isnt just random words flying out of our mouths but the chance to either build someone up or completely tear someone down. It may sound clich, but the words that we choose on a daily basis really do affect others. (And not just people that hear the words! Saying things behind someones back is also uncool.) And in the long run, the things we say can also change us too. The cool part is, the choice is ours. We can choose to let our words be those that make us feel good for the moment but wreck the heart of someone else, or we can use the words that mirror the kind we could hear our Savior say!

Annie has a challenge for youfor me, for usto let our words speak hope, truth, joy, peace... we gotta speak love.

Jamie Grace

I started writing on February 21, 2006.

Wait. Let me back up.

Ive always loved writing and reading. My maternal grandmother was a high school librarian and my paternal grandparents owned a used bookstore, so I probably teethed on novels.

I read voraciously as a childit was rare that a book was not within reach. I read in the car, when I should have been sleeping, at the dinner table, and in the bathtub. Which, I am sorry to tell you, did lead to a few soaked books, namely Harriet the Spy and Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself. Have you ever dropped a book in the bathtub? The panic-induced behavior that follows is hilarious and splashy and full of wrinkled pages and regrets.

I only remember attempting to write one book as a kid, a dramatic retelling of a seventh-grade library book where the main characters best friend is in the hospital. My renditionwritten in pencil on lined paper in a three-ring notebookwas three chapters long and absolutely terrible, but the original story was pretty terrible too (and not much longer than my version), so I blame my first literary failure on bad mentorship.

While I may not be one of those authors who wrote books throughout her childhood, I always told stories. Maybe it is because Im from Georgia and this is the Southern way, but my memories are full of storytelling nights on the front porch or at my grandparents house across the driveway or down at the local campground every August when it was Camp Meeting. For you guys not from around these parts, quick explanation: The campground is full of cabins and then one big pavilion. Every August, families from East Cobb United Methodist Church go across the streetyes, the campground is literally across the street from the church buildingsand stay there, and they have church meetings every night. And at every meal and in the cool of the evening, people sit around and tell stories. I soaked them up, hearing tales from one hundred years ago in that very spot.

Heres an interesting side note about Camp Meeting: When I was a senior in high school, my youth pastor hit a line drive in the softball game and the softball (which is not even a little bit soft) hit me right in the nose. And broke it. And I have the lump on my nose to this day to prove it. Check it out next time were in the same place.

See? Im a storyteller.

I come from a long line of storytellers and story-enjoyers.

Unfortunately for me, fairly early in my life, ugly crept into the purity of storytelling.

And I started to lie.