Things People Have Told Me Part 1

August 18, 2026

Welcome to this week’s Daily Reflections on the theme, “Things People Have Told Me.”

During more than fifty years as a psychologist, sitting with people in their quandaries, dilemmas, and pain, I have heard more stories than could ever be contained on a shelf of books. Every person who has entrusted me with some portion of their life has been, in a sense, a living volume—filled with sorrow and courage, confusion and revelation, failure, redemption, and hopefully, transformation.

I have never known the whole story of anyone’s life. None of us ever does. Yet I have been invited into certain chapters: a childhood memory, a hidden grief, a broken relationship, a secret hope, a fear never before spoken aloud, recovery from sexual abuse or the murder of a family member. Then there are the folks who returned from combat— the horrors they experienced and still carry. Through these sacred disclosures, I have learned things about human nature that no textbook could have taught me.

But my patients are not the only source of the things people have told me.

I have learned from family members, neighbors, children, colleagues, teachers, students, salespeople, repair workers, letter carriers, friends, and people with whom I have taken classes, both online and in person. Wisdom does not always come from a pulpit, a lecture hall, or a celebrated teacher. Sometimes it comes from someone repairing the plumbing, ringing up a purchase, sitting beside us in a waiting room, or speaking casually across the dinner table.

Whether from my patients or people in my personal life, the things I have been told cover the widest range of human emotion. Some of these things were humorous. Others were deeply informative. Some were tragic, illuminating, enchanting, or heartbreaking. Certain words warmed me. Others shocked or bewildered me. And some remarks, spoken almost without thought, remained with me for a lifetime.

Words have a mysterious way of making an indelible impression on the soul.

A sentence may be spoken in a few seconds, yet continue living within us for decades. It may return when we enter a familiar room, hear a certain song, smell a particular fragrance, or find ourselves facing a situation much like the one in which the words were first spoken.

Often, I remember not only what was said, but exactly where it was said. I remember where I was standing and where the other person stood. I remember the light in the room, the tone of the voice, and the feeling that moved between us. In some instances, I even recall what I was wearing.

When such words return, they bring the person with them. For a moment, memory becomes a form of visitation. In the mind’s eye and in the heart, we are with them again. Then the feelings flood in.

The other day, I was walking down the hallway of our home —a hallway I have walked through thousands of times—when I suddenly remembered something our daughter Lauren said there when she was eight years old.

It was a school night, and she was on her way to do her homework. Lauren was conscientious about her schoolwork and never needed to be reminded. As she walked down the hall carrying her books, I felt a sudden wave of gratitude and pride. I was struck by the gift of having such a wonderful child.

I said, “Lauren, thank you for being my daughter.”

Without hesitation, she answered: “No problem, Daddy.”

Three simple words.

They were not rehearsed, calculated, or sentimental. They came directly from the spontaneous innocence of a child. Yet they entered my heart and never left.

“No problem, Daddy.”

Her words seemed to say that being my daughter was natural and effortless. It was not a duty, a burden, or something for which thanks were required. It was simply who she was and who we were together.

If I allow my heart to stretch the meaning a little further, her answer also said, I am glad to be your daughter. It is all right. It belongs to both of us. You do not need to thank me for love.

What is most remarkable is that Lauren probably had no idea she was giving me words that would sustain me long after that ordinary school night had passed and into my life without her. Children often speak eternal truths without knowing it. Their words slip past analysis and enter the soul before the mind has time to interpret them.

We rarely know which of our words another person will remember.

A brief encouragement may become someone’s strength during a difficult year. A word of forgiveness may release a burden carried for decades. A careless criticism may also remain far longer than we intended. What is casual to the speaker may become permanent to the listener.

Our words do not disappear when the sound of them fades.

They enter lives.

They become memories, beliefs, wounds, comforts, questions, and sometimes prayers.

This is why we are called to speak with greater awareness. Every conversation contains the possibility of leaving something behind in the soul of another. We may never know which sentence will be remembered in a hallway many years later.

It gave me such joy when she became an adult, to remind my Lauren of what she said to me on that school night long ago; “No problem, Daddy.” Just to see the smile on her face after I repeated it was priceless. And now recalling those words brings me heartwarming joy and tears all at the same time.

Spiritual Practice

Take some time today to remember the things people have said to you.

Walk slowly through the rooms of your home. Look through old photographs. Sit quietly in a place connected with someone you love. Allow a voice, phrase, or story to rise naturally within you. What do you hear? Who said it? Where were you? Why do you think those words remained? How do you understand them now?

Then consider whether there are words of kindness, gratitude, truth, or love that you need to offer someone while there is still time for them to hear you.

Inquiry

Why do we hold tightly to some words while trying to forget others?

Which voices have helped shape the person you have become?

And what words are you placing, knowingly or unknowingly, into the hearts of others?

Prayer

Dear God,

Thank You for the people who have entrusted me with their stories, experiences, beliefs, questions, and wisdom.

Help me to remember the words that give life, to heal from the words that have wounded, and to speak in ways that bring courage, truth, compassion, and love.

May I never underestimate the power of a simple sentence spoken from the heart.

Amen