Mike Ashcraft - My One Word: Change Your Life With Just One Word

The first day of class every semester, I begin my public speaking course at the university the same way. I ask my students to take out a scrap piece of paper and tear it into three smaller pieces.

From this one exercise, I can tell what kind of person each student is. The conscientious, detail-oriented, type-A students fold their paper neatly into three equal sections. They crease each fold, then fold it back the other direction and crease again. Sliding the crease to the edge of their desk, they apply pressure for a clean, straight tear. They wind up with three perfect pieces of scrap paper but it takes a while.

The other group the big-picture, usually more gregarious, impulsive type-B people quickly rip their page into three smaller sections. The edges are tattered. The pieces are uneven. They dont care about that; they dont even notice. They just want to know what were going to do with the paper.

I instruct the class to take one piece of their scrap paper and draw a creepy bug on it any sort of insect or arachnid you wouldnt want crawling up your leg. The type-As also take longer to draw their bugs.

Then I tell them to take the second piece of paper and write down the name of a food they hate. Any food they think has an awful taste, texture, or smell. Anything they would cringe to have to chew and swallow.

Finally, on the last piece of paper, I instruct them to write down whatever term they call their mother or the mother figure in their life. Might be a stepmothers first name or a grandmothers nickname. Most simply scribble the letters M-o-m.

Next I have them stand next to their desks with their three pieces of paper. I hold up my first piece, showing them my poorly illustrated picture of a centipede. I lay the paper bug on the ground and stomp it, like Im killing it. I instruct them to follow suit with theirs.

After the briefest hesitation, the class freshmen to seniors begin smiling and stomping on their first piece of paper. Smashing ink-drawn spiders and roaches and fire ants over and over with their sneaker- or flip-flop-clad feet.

They laugh at themselves and each other, and I have to speak louder now to be heard over the commotion. I hold up my next piece of scrap paper, showing them the word beets Ive written on mine. Now throw down your second piece of paper with your food on it and stomp on it too. Because who wants to eat that?

Yuck! I insist as I stomp on the paper that says beets. They follow suit, happily stomping out broccoli and Brussels sprouts and Aunt Hildas congealed salad. Laughing and talking and stomping, they surmise this is going to be a fun class.

With momentum running high, I hold up my third scrap of paper where Ive written the word Mom. I shout, Okay, now to get their attention. I toss this paper down next to the other two pieces at my feet and tell them to stomp on their last piece of paper as well.

Suddenly my foot striking the floor is the only sound in the room. Motionless they stare at me stomping. Some look around the room checking to see if others are as taken aback as they are. But none stomp, despite my repeated urgings.

In a decade of teaching, Ive never had a class do anything other than freeze with quizzical looks when I tell them to step on the third piece of paper.

Why? Well, thats what I explain next so the students will grasp the tremendous power, value, and responsibility of public speaking. Of any kind of speaking, really.

Of words, essentially.

I tell them that they dont tread on that little piece of paper with the word Mom because words are more than collections of letters. They are not just lines and curves. They represent.

It doesnt matter that their mothers arent in the room to witness their stomping. I usually tell them that if their mother were present, shed tell them to obey their teacher. They smile at that irony, but they still dont stomp.

It doesnt matter that each of them at some point in their life have felt like stomping when it comes to their mother. Theyve all been toddlers and teens. This doesnt matter, because the word Mom not only represents their mother, but the role of mother. The idea of mom. The office and calling of motherhood.

In essence Ive asked them to stomp on all that is loving, nurturing, live-giving, and good. As if it were an ant or an anchovy. I tell them stomping on that word felt wrong because words encapsulate ideas. They evoke our emotions. They hook into memories. They define our experiences helping to shape us in the process.

Theres power in words. Beauty in words. Grace in words.

Words create movement. They craft nations. They seal a marriage. They cast vision. They make us laugh. They focus our attention. They expand our horizons. They stimulate our creativity. And they script our possibilities.

Thats why Im so excited youve picked up this book. Inside these pages we will walk you through the process of using one word in the coming year to effect personal change and spiritual formation.

This is a simple but potent practice. Dont assume its simplicity limits its effectiveness. If you enter fully into the My One Word process, one simple word will reach farther into your life and embed deeper into your character than youve ever imagined it could.

Ive done this My One Word project for six years now with my pastor, Mike Ashcraft, and the body of believers at Port City Community Church. So when Mike asked me to coauthor this book about the My One Word project, I didnt hesitate, because I know firsthand what this exercise can do. Thats why Im excited for you, and what the coming year holds as you participate in this with us.

I cant wait for you to see how one word can profoundly change your life!

Rachel Olsen