How “Awful” Lost Its Awe

 The word awful used to mean something entirely different than it does today—and the shift says more about us than the word itself.

Originally, awful meant full of awe. It was used to describe things that inspired reverence, fear, or deep respect. God was awful. Mountains were awful. Moments that made you feel small in the presence of something vast and powerful were awful—and that wasn’t a bad thing.

Then we shrank it.

Now awful is the word we toss at bad coffee, slow internet, or a mildly inconvenient day. “That meeting was awful.” “This weather is awful.” We use a word once reserved for holy terror and wonder to describe things that barely rise above irritating.

And something important was lost in that downgrade.

Awe requires humility. It reminds us that not everything revolves around us, our comfort, or our preferences. When a culture loses awe, it doesn’t just weaken a word—it weakens its ability to recognize greatness, holiness, or consequence.

So instead of being in awe of things that should stop us in our tracks, we reserve strong language for minor displeasures. Meanwhile, truly awful things—moral failures, injustice, the erosion of truth—often get softened language, excuses, or silence.

That’s backwards.

Words are tools for discernment. When we dull them, we dull ourselves. Awful was never meant to describe your lunch order. It was meant to name the feeling you get when you realize you are standing before something far bigger than you.

Maybe the most awful thing of all is how easily we forgot that.