"Dear God, I Really F'd Up!"

This needs to be said at the beginning. No. I have not lost it. And, no, I am not losing it. But, before I get into what brought me to that title, I'll share a few quotes that have made an impression on me.

"I don't do performance poetry, so the words matter." - Elka, poet 

"I may already be dead, just not typed." - Harold Crick, Stranger Than Fiction

"He wooed her with words and he won her. He had nothing but words to woo her." - Lorna Goodison, poet

"Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words." - C.S. Lewis

Words work. Use them. That's a belief I have long held. So much so, I started a blog in about 2004 under that title. But, I did not maintain it. It had not started "hurting bad enough" yet. I like expressing myself in writing. I like to read and widen my vocabulary. I like to meet upon new words and spend the next day working them into sentences. I have a Dictionary app on my phone and the web site is saved in my favourites. Of course, I do consult other sources, but, for a quick go to, it serves the purpose. I suppose it's every writer's or communicator's dream to use the right words at the right time. 

Ahh yes. I do have a love for words. Remember that scene in Patch Adams where the elderly woman had the fantasy about being immersed in a pool of spaghetti? That's me. Except, it's not spaghetti - or food of any kind. It's words. I have a fantasy about being immersed in a pool of words. How that would work, or look, exactly, I am not quite sure. Not thinking alphabet soupish, though. No. The words wouldn't be in a liquid. The words would be the liquid; have sufficient molecular density and create the buoyancy needed. And, every so often, I'd string just the right ones together to make the perfect sentence. Then, one perfect sentence after another...

I've experienced the discomfort and comfort of certain words and terms. Words intrigue me as they strut their denotative and connotative meanings. But, they do not scare me. I do understand that given different contexts such as cultural and social ones, the use of certain words - and the words themselves - may carry particular connotations, subliminal messages, subtexts, and the like. Certainly, if I am not around to explain why I used a particular word weighted with a generally-accepted meaning, it would be interpreted using that meaning. My decision not to use a particular word in a piece of writing, as much as I believe it would hit the nail on the head, stems from that consciousness: Would my use of the word signal a shift in conviction or belief? That sort of thing. Given my broughtupsy in a Christian home and as a result of my own Christian walk, there are words that I do not use. It's funny, really. Not funny haha but funny peculiar. The two things I am most passionate about - my walk with Christ, and my writing - have never had me conflicted. Perhaps that is because I see the one - the writing  - as a medium for the more-important other. What has caused some angst, though, is whether I have been brave enough to say what may be unpopular, but what I feel a conviction to say.

That brings me to the title. I love - as in, love - the fact that I can go to God about anything. I pray to Him about any and everything. The other day, someone hurt me. Bad. I went to God in tears. I was angry and I was sad. After weeks had passed, with nothing near forgiveness yet in my heart, I contacted that person. In short, I received what I referred to as a template apology. Y'know the kind that says stteo: "I'm sorry I offended you..." More time passed. I contacted again. This time, my language was stronger as I said how I really felt. I referred to the half-assed apology and went on about how what was done was unbelievable, especially given...everything! Then came the interruption, "I f'd up, and I'm sorry." Well, y'know, I cried. I had to pull into a parking spot - and I cried. Of course, my friends know I do not use that kind of language. But, I accepted it and, dare I say, appreciated the honesty of it very much. It touched me. The choice of word meant that he meant it. And, I knew that that was the sincere apology.

It came to me sometime after, that a person who comes to God desperately seeking His help; to be rescued by Him, and pleads, in brokenness, "Oh God, I f'd up, and I'm sorry," does not turn God off one bit. I believe that if God sees the heart - and He does - He does not recoil from the word, but draws that person closer because of the heart. I believe that, in time, in a new walk with Christ - and with the understanding of the social or cultural or whatever other -al connotation attached - the individual will come to express himself in other words. Yes, God is holy. And, I'm not saying we should all come telling God 'the f word' left right and centre. But, you get what I mean. Plus, English is just one language. People the world over pray to Him in hundreds of other languages. There are many other heartfelt taboo words and expressions in many other languages and He is afraid of none. Anyway, you catch my drift. 

I have a similar feeling about Christians who express their grief on losing a loved one. Years ago, a lady I knew lost her only son in a vehicular accident. It tore her up. Another lady, this one I knew to be a Christian, lost her son after someone shot him. She became angry with God. Grief-stricken, she questioned His goodness; how could He have taken her son? How could He have allowed this? I understand that some persons - including Christians - will say that that is not an appropriate reaction. But, I believe that God is not frightened by our grief. He can see it coming. And, surely, different persons handle grief in different ways. But, for someone who directs her anger to God, He must see it coming, doesn't He? He does not recoil from her harsh words, does He? I believe that as she turns to Him with tears streaming, nose snot running, chest heaving in sobs and hands flailing as she thumps His chest with "How could You?! How could You?!" that He leans in to her and puts His arm around her and, yes, maybe even cries with her. Then, as she weakens under the burden of grief, and becomes too drained to fight, He scoops her up in His arms and carries her.

I am thankful that God sees the heart. And, His ways and thoughts are higher than ours. Just sayin'.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

The "J" Word and Create Anyway

Several minutes ago I had the opportunity to watch a part of the televised funeral service for the late Sgt. Ryan Russell of the Toronto Police Service.   Rev. Walter Kelly delivered some moving words, encouraging the family to find comfort in God, in His word, in His promise: Isaiah 41:10: "Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."

THE 'J' WORD
Gotta admit that the strong emphasis on God and His strength and His word, in such a public setting was pleasantly surprising and refreshing.  His prayer ended "in Jesus' Name."  The "J" word!  It sounded so politically incorrect but, apparently, Sgt. Russell was strong in his Christian faith.  It would not have been an honour to his memory was this emphasis to have been omitted.  I found a part of the Rev's prayer especially noteworthy: "Lord, help us with our feelings, our thoughts, our questions."  Yes, when times like this come our way, it helps to ask God for help to deal with the myriad questions that steam-roll through our minds.

My sis called later to fill me in on something else that the Rev. said, as I'd stopped watching by then.  It was with regard to the late officer's organ donation - his eyes.  A little boy is now going to be able to see the world through Sgt. Russell's eyes.  How nice is that?


WIRES CROSSED
Also had a quick look at the story on the CBC site and noted some of the comments in reference to the funeral ("pornographication"; "propoganda").  Truth is - and this is not shocking information in the least - no matter what the decision, made by those high or low; stranger or friend; foreign or national (you get it), there will always be differing opinions.  That's how we as human beings roll. We're more alike than we are not but, where the similarities stop, we're so wired different.  And, thanks to technology, those wires get to be run hither and yon; from all sorts of platforms into every nook and cranny; from cyberspace to personal space.  

Thankfully, and I've said this here more than once, I'm sure, we have choices.  We don't have to subject ourselves to the stress-inducing diatribe and overload of vitriolic tirade that some would wend upon us.  Life is way too short for that.

So, make the decision to do.  Then do.  Then, if you ever have a moment to spare for that sort of thing, give a listen to all the criticisms.  Notice how the non-constructive ones come from those who are, more or less, (and more more than less) sad about their own lives? Those who find some sadistic semblance of victory in putting down someone else or something created by someone else, just so they can enjoy a fleeting moment of pseudo satisfaction of self import?  Notice? 


CREATE ANYWAY
Now, don't spend too much time on noticing and trying to assimilate all that.  Be encouraged by those who wish you well; those who supprt you.  Be encouraged even by the small fact that you took the time, effort and attention required to do it.  It mightn't always come out perfect, but, at least you did it!  So, go out and create anyway!  Put all your effort and heart and soul and love into it.

You'll be ever so glad you did.  As I've heard, in the end, it's not so much the things we did that we'll regret; it's the things we didn't do.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro