When Our Demeanor Speaks Louder Than Our Words

We’ve all been there, caught in a conversation where frustration bubbles up, our body language tightens, and before we know it, our entire presence communicates something we’d rather not admit about ourselves. Recently, I found myself in exactly this position during a conversation with my dad.
He wasn’t listening, or at least, that’s how it felt. My words seemed to bounce off an invisible wall, and the exchange quickly became one-sided. Without even realizing it, my frustration began to show. My tone sharpened. My posture stiffened. My face probably said everything my words weren’t. In that moment, my demeanor was doing all the talking, and it wasn’t saying anything I’d be proud of later.
The Uncomfortable Mirror
After we parted ways, I sat with the discomfort of what had just happened. The conversation replayed in my mind, but this time I wasn’t focused on whether my dad had listened. Instead, I saw myself: my attitude, my impatience, my lack of grace. That uncomfortable mirror reflection led me to do something that felt both humbling and necessary: I apologized.
But the apology, while important, wasn’t the end of the story. It opened up a deeper question that’s been sitting with me ever since: Why is it so easy to let our demeanor slip when conversations get difficult?
What Our Demeanor Reveals
The truth is, our demeanor in conversation reveals who we truly are beneath the surface. Anyone can be kind when things are going smoothly. Anyone can be patient when they’re getting their way. But when we’re misunderstood, dismissed, or frustrated? That’s when our real character emerges.
Our crossed arms, heavy sighs, eye rolls, or sharp tones, these aren’t just reactions. They’re windows into our hearts. They show what we’re actually full of in moments of pressure. And if I’m honest, I don’t always like what they reveal about me.
I want to be approachable. I want to be the kind of person others feel safe talking to, even when the conversation is hard. I want to be someone who listens well, who responds with grace, who makes space for others even when I disagree. But wanting these things and embodying them are two very different challenges.
The Deeper Work
This is where my faith comes in—not as a quick fix or a moral checklist, but as a transformative presence. I want Jesus so deeply rooted in me that He becomes my first response, not my second thought. I want His character to be so woven into who I am that even in uncomfortable, tense, or frustrating conversations, His love, patience, and wisdom shine through naturally.
Because here’s what I’m learning: I can’t manufacture that kind of presence on my own. When I rely solely on my own strength, patience, or wisdom, I run out quickly. My well is shallow. But when I’m connected to Christ, when I’m drawing from His infinite patience, His perfect love, His supernatural peace, there’s a different reservoir to pull from.
I’m talking about the kind of transformation where instead of losing my cool, I find compassion. Instead of letting my demeanor speak harshly, I’m equipped with words that build up rather than tear down. Instead of defensiveness, there’s openness. Instead of needing to win, there’s a genuine desire to understand.
Armed with More Than Our Own Resources
What would it look like to enter difficult conversations armed not just with our own opinions, but with divine wisdom? To have Christ so present in us that we naturally respond with His grace rather than our flesh?It means doing the internal work daily: spending time in prayer, in Scripture, in genuine relationship with God. It means asking the Holy Spirit to convict us when our hearts are hardening, to soften us when we’re growing defensive, to give us words when we have none.
It means recognizing that our demeanor isn’t something we can simply control through willpower. It’s a fruit that grows from the root of our spiritual lives. If we’re spiritually depleted, distracted, or disconnected, it will show in how we carry ourselves with others.
The Practice of Presence
I’m learning that being approachable isn’t just about being nice. It’s about being present with another person, even when they’re frustrating us. It’s about valuing the person in front of us more than being right or being heard.This requires intentionality:
– Pausing before responding when emotions run high- Asking the Holy Spirit for help in the moment, not just before or after
– Choosing to believe the best about the other person’s intentions
– Remembering that everyone, including my dad, deserves dignity in conversation
– Recognizing that how I make someone feel matters as much as what I say.
A Lifelong Journey
I haven’t arrived. That conversation with my dad proved that. But I’m grateful for the conviction that led to an apology, and even more grateful for the invitation to grow that came with it.
Our demeanor in conversation really does say so much about who we are. And while that’s a sobering reality, it’s also a hopeful one, because it means we have the opportunity to let Christ transform us from the inside out. Every difficult conversation is a chance to rely on Him more deeply, to let His character replace our knee-jerk reactions, to become a little more like Him.
The goal isn’t perfection in every conversation. It’s progress—slow, steady, Spirit-led progress toward becoming people whose very presence communicates the love and grace of Christ, especially when it’s hardest to do so.
After all, that’s when it matters most.
