One of my core devotional disciplines is Scripture-praying. I pray God’s Word over my loved ones and myself. For years, I have prayed Moses’ prayer over my life:

“Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.” (Deuteronomy 32:2)

Moses prayed that his words would be fruitful.

As a lover-of-words, I find his image of rain quite sobering.

Rain is rather humble.

It is felt and then forgotten.

Or perhaps more accurately than “forgotten,” it is felt and then its memory is upstaged by its fruit. It falls to be absorbed by the earth. Then each drop’s distinctiveness–if effective–is lost. As I said: humility.

“Dew,” “showers,” and “abundant rain” quench the earth’s thirst and create conditions for growth. Then, when we harvest the kale or admire the flowers, we do not thank the rain. We thank God who sent the rain and Who also gave the seed and the sun.

So, as a servant-leader, my words are to be like rain: Sent by God, absorbed by others, and then upstaged by the fruit that they bear.

Our words (in song, in sermon, in print, in conversation, and in self-talk) are powerful. Be they carefully crafted or thoughtlessly sputtered, our words are verbal finger-prints left on our generation. Like Moses’ words, they are unique, they matter, and they have power.

But the tell of good words, is not whether or not they are remembered.

The tell of good words is that they are overshadowed by the good fruit that they bear.

Which perhaps is why Moses immediately followed his prayer with this praise:

“I will proclaim the name of the Lord, Oh praise the greatness of our God!

He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just.

A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he.”

(Deuteronomy 32:3-4, NIV)