Words matter.  Specific phrases strengthen relationships.  Here are five three-word phrases we need to use.

  

  

As someone who is highly intentional about his communication, I am accused of believing I do not need to utter these words.  That is untrue (a three-word phrase that may not build relationships).  I am often wrong and, depending upon the ferocity of the blow to my self-concept, learning to be better at admitting it.  The beauty of saying, "I was wrong," is that it is in the past tense.  I was wrong, but I have learned.

  

  

Put the emphasis on the present tense in this phrase and give the person the satisfaction of being correct ongoingly.  Sometimes a person knows she is right, but such knowledge is insufficiently satisfying; she benefits from hearing you acknowledge that fact.

  

  

The word "love" has different levels of intensity associated with it.  We are a hug-shy, love-shy culture when it comes to professional settings.  Therefore, I find it effective to tell groups of people, "I love you" (plural).  Translated not as "I want to commit to a lifelong relationship with each of you," but as "I am committed to your well-being and as I serve you I'm doing my best to make this a beneficial experience."  Let's not shy away from this most significant of human expressions.

  

  

Beauty has been warped to mean that you have the figure of an emaciated runway model and the face of an artificially sculpted cover model.  (My apology to healthy models of physical beauty.)  I often tell Judy after trying to find her in a crowded room that I simply look for the most beautiful woman there and then I see her.  I identify her from beauty that begins at the surface of her body and continues deeply into the interior of her character.  We need to teach our children not just to acknowledge cognitively that beauty is more than skin deep (that is, that it includes, but extends beneath the skin), but to actually use their words to reinforce that belief.

  

  

I have read numerous laments that the family dinner no longer exists.  Well, we haven't given up the fight.  We certainly don't have as many family dinners with three teenagers as we did when they were toddlers, but when we do the conversations are far more interesting and there is far less food to clean up from around the room.  (Of course, the problem with this phrase is that it begs the questions: "Who prepared dinner?" and "Who is serving dinner?"  That's food for another newsletter.)