Of Twanging and Shakespeare and Snowclones

I’m referring, of course, to the new catch phrase being bandied across borders, “Nobody canna cross it!”  Thanks to the viral (refix) video by Kevin-Sean Hamilton that simply glistens with creativity.  The phrase has its genesis with Clifton Brown (aka Cliff-twang Brown), during his interview with Dara Smith, the TVJ reporter.   The multi-use of the phrase has put me in mind of Shakespeare.  More anon.

BIT OF BACKGROUND
The rains had come to Jamaica – some parts of the island feeling its effect more than others. The roads of Mavis Bank, linking Robertsfield and other communities in the parish of (East rural) St. Andrew, were masquerading as river courses. Needless to say, they were practically impassable – except for professionals, the likes of Clifton.  As he articulated the plight of the residents, and the help that they were able to provide to each other, viewers hung to his every word – mainly, perhaps, in unbelief!  For, Clifton was twanging.  Like, real live twanging!  On TV!  And he wasn’t joking! 

WHY TWANG?
Although twanging is not new to the ear, it’s hardly ever done in such a public interview and for that length of time.  Of course a lot of people twang, or as Jamaicans are wont to say, “dem put on twang” or “dem a put on accent”.  But, more often than not, it’s not, y’know?  Aired!   It may be done in public, but, only those within earshot are treated to it.   The scripts in theatrical or made-for-TV productions in Jamaica may call for some kind of twanging – with the distinct intention of eliciting laughter! 

Twanging, to my mind, at any rate, is not the same as speaking with an (American – ‘cause it’s gotta be American or, ok, fine, Canadian) accent.   There are kids, for example, who’ve grown up in a Jamaican-American or Jamaican-Canadian household, who speak Jamaican patois (with a genuine "patois accent" - there's more than one) and English, (with a genuine American or Canadian accent).  They aren’t twanging.  Twanging – and feel free to enlighten me – is an affected way of speaking where one tries to speak with that other accent, where inflections and enunciations (and whatever else those steeped in linguistics will tell you) are added and subtracted randomly, to much comedic effect.

That is why that original news clip was so funny!  It’s a way of speaking that Jamaicans usually find funny, as the speaker seems to be trying too hard to “talk good” or “speaky spoky” - to fit in with those perceived to be of a "higher social calibre" who are known to "speak properly".   It’s a way of speaking that is sometimes intentionally used to generate laughter (especially when mocking the speech of another). Recall Miss Lou's "No Lickle Twang" and "Dry Foot Bwoy" that reference a possible no-win situation. (Contact me for translation if need be :-).  It’s a way of speaking used, as just mentioned, in certain productions for comic effect.

So, when we were treated to this way of speaking, in a situation where none of the above was applicable, it was both surprising and funny! He wasn’t speaking to elicit laughter; he wasn’t speaking as a character in some form of production (well, at that point, little did he know…).  And, he certainly wasn’t speaking to mock someone else.  As a matter of fact, during one of his interviews, either with Mutabaruka, or Smile Jamaica, Clifton admits that he invoked this way of speaking to try to talk like the University students (if he only knew…#justsayin.  Don’t shoot the messenger!)  That he hadn’t gone to University and was trying to copy them (that perceived "higher social calibre" thing).  

So, he was being real; he was being passionate and, in his inimitable Cliftonian style (yes, accorded his own distinction now), getting his point across.  I mean, don't you imagine that, although people have been twanging for so long, whenever you hear someone else put on a twang, somebody is going to be like, "Yuh pulling a Clifton man!"  In his delivery, "Nobody can cross it...it's only a fisherman or a fisherwoman" became "Nobody canna cross it...is only fishermain or a fisherwomain" and there were those who "can monij di wotah."

APPROPRIATED INTO POPULAR CULTURE
One of the things I admire about this recent development – apart from the publicity and kudos for Kevin-Sean Hamilton; the exposure wrt Mavis Bank and Robertsfield; Clifton Brown’s concern and his taking this whole publicity in stride (hope it doesn’t get too much for him); the “official Nobody Canna Cross It” dance and the “We Can Cross It! - Let’s Build a Bridge!” FB page – is how the phrase has been appropriated into popular culture. 

A NEW SNOWCLONE
And that is what put me in mind of Shakespeare!  How often do we hear ourselves using phrases like: "One fell swoop" - Macbeth; "Lend me your ears" - Julius Caesar; "Much Ado About Nothing" (title) and so on.  If we changed any of those up a bit to, say, "In one fell scoop" - talking about ice-cream; "Much ado about...anything"; or "Romans, countrymen, lend me your cash!"  We'd get it!  Of course, Shakespeare is not the only one from whose bank of writing we have found ourselves making regular withdrawals (My word!  Where did that come from?)  Remember Bill Clinton's "It's the economy, stupid!" to grab a more recent one. How about, "It's the software, stupid!"  You get the point.  So, that’s where my mind went – to Shakespeare and the catch phrases or, as they morphed over time, to the more correct snowclones.

(A snowclone is defined as "a verbal formula that is adapted for re-use by changing only a few words, so that the allusion to the original phrase remains clear." (Dictionary.com)  Or, as Wikipedia puts it: A snowclone is a type of cliché and phrasal template originally defined as "a multi-use, customizable, instantly recognizable, time-worn, quoted or misquoted phrase or sentence that can be used in an entirely open array of different variants.") 

So, I've been hearing/reading about people using the phrase in different scenarios.  E.g., in talking about an exam, they go, "Can you cross it?" or about multi-tasking, "I can cross it!" Or, even on Twitter, a tweet about your rough day ending with #crossit, indicates that you managed it in spite of the odds.  This is something to smile about. After all, I think this one is going to be around for quite a while - never mind its unlikely beginning.


THE CLIFTON BROWN BRIDGE
I imagine there will be highs and lows with all this, but, more than anything, it has brought much-needed laughter.  Clifton?  Keep your head up.  Handle this new-found publicity well.   I hope "they" hurry and build the bridge - and name it after you! 


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

Can You Cross It?

By this time, I imagine that you have heard about one of the latest video sensations going viral.  Well, in case you haven't, it's the hilarious refix (and I understand why remix wasn't used) dubbed: "Nobody Canna Cross It" by Kevin-Sean Hamilton (aka DJPowa) - @k_seanDjPowa 

I've decided to provide a translation - primarily for non-Jamaican tweeps who've been bearing with me as I go on about the vid, and make references to select lines.  Truth is, I imagine that when some of them get to the vid, they are not able to understand most of what is being said.  Same goes for non-Jamaicans who've been hitting it on YouTube and other media.  Figured I'd help out.

(Btw, we're going in with the understanding that "nobody cannot" is the dreaded double negative.  But that, really, is the least of your worries re translation.  Hope you catch the nuances that add to the hilarity.  Also, some words will have to be replaced with others to get to the meaning - so, not necessarily word for word translation, per se, in some parts.)

Here goes:

Right now, nobody can cross it
It's only who can understand it cross it
Nobody can cross it
It's only a fisherman and a fisherwoman, trust me!
Nobody can cross it
It's only who can manage (handle) the water
It's only so (that way) they (can) come over
Or if we're around to help them.

Nobody can swim
'Cause if you cannot swim,
You cannot cross it
Nobody can cross it
(Unless) we're around to lift them over
A fisherman can cross it
And a fisherwoman (can) cross it
Cannot swim? Trust me
You gone (you'll be carried out by the current) to St. Thomas pond

Nobody can cross it
It's only who (can) understand it, cross it
Nobody can cross it
It's only a fisherman and a fisherwoman, trust me!
Nobody can cross it
It's only who can manage (handle) the water
It's only so (that way) they (can) come over
Or if we're around to help them.

Not all the vehicles - can cross it
This vehicle - cannot cross it
We're locked away in the wilderness
Nobody crosses it. (Baby pic: CROSS!)

Yesterday, the bus was coming from town
A bus load of people

It was just the mercy of God why the bus didn't go over
The bus can swim
The bus can swim
The bus can swim
Believe it or not
The bus can swim
Yesterday, the bus was just coming from town
The bus can cross it
The last time, (we had a) hurricane 
(And) we had dead to bury up the top
Nobody should walk
The bus can swim
Nobody should walk
The bus can cross it


Nobody can cross it
It's only who can understand it cross it
Nobody can cross it
It's only a fisherman and a fisherwoman, trust me!
Nobody can cross it
It's only who can manage (handle) the water
It's only so (that way) they (can) come over
Or if we're around to help them.

I'm very concerned; very concerned
Because nobody can cross it
Not even the kids can go to school, trust me!
Because nobody can cross it
A fisherman and a fisherwoman can cross it.
Like, they understand it
Cannot swim? Trust me
You gone to dead up (you're going to be dead up there)...

Nobody can cross it
It's only who can understand it cross it
Nobody can cross it
It's only a fisherman and a fisherwoman, trust me!
Nobody can cross it
It's only who can manage (handle) the water
It's only so (that way) they (can) come over
Or if we're around to help them.

Nobody can cross it
Nobody crosses it
It's only who can swim (can) cross it
Cr cr cross it CROSS!
No no no nobody (can) cross it

[Dara Smith, TVJ News]

Hope this has helped you to cross it!  Thinking I might write more on this - the appropriation of the #nobodycancrossit and #dibuscanswim into popular culture - one signifying a general acceptance of a perceived impossibility or improbability; the other, the underlining of the victory when seemingly daunting feats have been accomplished.  (Btw, sometimes all you need is someone there to help you!)  Not to mention, too, the derivatives.  Personalizations to read: I cannot cross it; you can cross it and so on.  We just need the "cross it" and we get the reference.  When positive, we're simply making the link, or transition, from the realm of impossibility to possibility.  OK.  Lemme not get carried away.  After all, I can cross it.

Noted Kevin's tweet a short while ago: "Truth is, #NobodyCannaCrossIt without #ff the ONLY Lord and Saviour #JesusChrist! Him a di ONLY one dat can ensure seh #DiBusCanSwim! BRB..."

True that, Kevin. True that.


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

"Scared Heart"

He chants the rhythms and I am held
Suspended in time and Bandele's face.
"Let me belong to me
Before I belong to you."
Each beat sets my heart nearer breaking.
My heart's afraid of breaking
So, it will never dance.
My heart's afraid of breaking
It will never take the chance.

He sings of you; he sings of me
Though (God forbid) he knows it not.
Our problems, highly universal,
But belonging only to us.
We nourish them with insecurities
'Til they inflate...then burst like a sore.
My heart's afraid of breaking
It won't dance anymore.

Dnafcnatgada
1989-10-29

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

Customer Service "or" What?

There's a knock-off saying from the more familiar one: "The customer is always right - and usually ugly, too!"  I tend to think that the kind of ugly to which this refers, does not always mean that of the physical kind.  You know, the sort that doesn't fit with our societal construct and perception of beauty?  No siree! I have come to believe that the ugly implied in that tongue-in-cheek remark, does sometimes refer to the customer's conduct, behaviour, if you will - especially when the candour of his/her retort is unexpected.

THE OPERATIVE "OR"
Let's take the scene a few months ago.  I approach the customer service desk, the relevant card in hand, ready to make a payment to my account.  (After all, the flyer that the company mailed to me earlier that week did say that I could come in with either card or statement. As I was already on the road, I figured I could just drop in and be done with it.)  I produce my card.  She looks at me. She  proceeds to explain that I need the statement.  I point out the operative "or" ('cause that's what I do). She repeats herself.  I proceed to explain that it would take me about 40 minutes of highway driving to get home and get back with the statement.  Plus, I continue, their flyer did say "or".  Her explanation is stuck on repeat.  I ask to speak with the manager.  He approaches their side of the counter.  I explain why I expect my payment to be accepted, even though I do not have the statement.  He pretty much gives the same explanation - they are the store; the card company is independent of them. They need to see the number on the statement, which is not necessarily the same on the card.  I tell him the number on the statement - only the last two digits are different.  He still needs to see it.  I now take the time to point out the "or" on his flyer.  He says something about seeing to a change in the copy because it is in fact misleading.  I leave to go home to get the statement.

While there, I call the card company.  As I had imagined they would have, they explain that the card alone is fine. They are able to update the account whether payment is made to the card number or the statement number.  I sigh.

I head back to the store. I explain what the card company said. The manager apologizes for my inconvenience and assures that he would check in with corporate re the the copy and recommend a revision.

AN OPTION, ALL ALONG
Fast forward to last week. I have both statement and card to close the store's account. The sad part now?  I do not have page 2.  I have page 1 with the account number that they'd asked for the last time, but I do not have page 2 with the transaction numbers (single digits, mind you).  The guy at the counter says he needs the trans numbers. I tell him I know both of them by heart.  He still needs to see page 2.  He checks in with his supervisor - Ms. CSR from a few months ago. I tell her I know which is which.  She insists that I need page 2 for them to allocate the funds to the correct trans numbers.  I remind her that the last time I was there, I had to drive all the way back. She apologizes.  THEN she suggests that I could call the card company using the phone at the other end of the counter! The counter!  Right there! They would be able to confirm the trans numbers and then she would be able to apply the funds accordingly.  And I'm thinking, why did you not suggest that in the first place?  Couldn't that have been done the last time and save me gas and time and effort?

When it was all over, I asked the guy to beckon to her as I really needed to talk to her.  As she made her way over to the counter, I could feel myself taking deep breaths as I tried to maintain my cool.  As I relayed to her my disbelief that there had in fact been an option all along - a simple call to the card company, from their store!!! - I questioned why customers aren't given that option in the first place!  Why would they insist, as if it were cast in concrete, that customers who turn up without their statements leave and return later that day (if they have the time) or another day?  And, yet, the stupid "or" is still sitting there, ensconced between "statement" and "card".  (I didn't say stupid.  I just pointed out the fact that their flyer (yes, they'd sent another) still had the "or"!)  Her explanation was that they don't want to encourage that option, as customers would be taking a risk if they're not sure of their trans numbers and can apply funds to wrong trans numbers etc.  And I'm thinking, and finally said, that the customers should be the ones to decide to take that risk.  Give them the option! Moreover, with the quick phone call, once the customer ascertains the trans number, he/she gives it to the store's CSR. The CSR simply writes it on the receipt after payment and the customer initials it - taking responsibility wrt where the funds are going.  That's what they had me do.  I really wanted to reach out and touch her around the neck! Cho!

BEING RIGHT WITHOUT BEING RUDE
She went on about understanding my frustration and again apologized for the inconvenience but wanted to assure me that they are in fact addressing the matter of the misleading copy on the flyer (no doubt from my previous point out - maybe others had done their own pointing out, too.  Who knows?) Again with the understanding, but it's in the interest of the customer blah blah blah.  In the end, I didn't even say thanks for her promise to follow up.  I just sighed - exasperatedly - and left.

So, I guess I was both right and perceived to be ugly that day.  I didn't raise my voice. But, I did feel bad after about not saying thanks, and for leaving so abruptly.  As I replayed it, I imagined that I can be right without being rude. That was my little lesson from that episode.  At the same time, however, I did feel a slight satisfaction that I communicated my frustration and the reason for it.  It can't be right that they turn people away (as they had done with me the first time) when there is a phone-call option just at the end of the counter!

Like I tweeted the other day, there really is a difference between customer service to die for and customer service that just kills you!



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

Turning Back a Few Pages

I've found some sweet spots on the pages of Facebook. Yeah.  Let's just dive right in, shall we?

Having decided to be open in my Cyopro connections on FB, I've been transported back to a time about which I have really precious memories.  I've connected with people I met and knew in my twenties; people who cared to groom me and inspire me and look out for me - that sorta thing.  And, I've simply embraced the transport and the nice feelings that come with it.  We've touched based, shared a little, laughed (the LOL kind) a lot. But, invariably, it's with the comfort that...it's okay.  I don't have to wonder about probable hidden agendas; chips on shoulders; slight narcissism - you know, the kinds of things you are hap to discover in one or two people as you discover...yourself.

True, I've spoken before about linking with people you haven't seen from Adam.  That you never know how they have been shaped and by what: whether it's something from which you'd want to stay far far away.  However, I'm talking about a connection with older folks (I'd say not so much to be my mother, but they were, in a sense, pretty motherly); folks who were eager to affirm my strength and drive and self esteem and potential...  They were not afraid of doing so because they themselves stood secure in who they were.  That's how it seemed to me, and I've had no reason to doubt it.  So often we find that some stay clear of affirming the strength and beauty of others (not that they're needed to validate all that!) it's like, it'll diminish them in some way if they do.

But not these.  They gave of self and support.  That's how I remember it.  That's what has stayed with me from the season we spent together years ago.  And, it brings a smile when I read a message saying how proud they are of me!

As in every nostalgic episode, I imagine, we seek out and cling to that which makes us feel all happy and gay and free and at ease! (Yeah, that's what I said.)  We cling to that which makes us experience, in some way, the comfort and security we felt at that point in time.  I get it.  That is what has happened/is happening to me where these special connections - reconnections - are concerned.

And, I like!

They'll probably read this post one day so I say, thank you, Faith and Pat! (They did say I could drop the Mrs. this and Mrs. that! :-)


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

Online Legacy

Believe it or not, this is post number 100!  Wow.  I just love round numbers and celebrating milestones, don't you?  And when they come together, even better.

Today is Mothers' Day and I could not help but notice the outpouring of love and affection on Facebook.  Yes, right after talking to my mom (along with my sisters) on the phone this morning, that's where I headed.   Visiting there more often than before these days,  and have come to realize a thing or two.

NO HOLDS BARRED
For example, the other day when this guy passed on, having committed a horrible and atrocious act (murder-suicide), folks took to his FB page to comment (read: vent and curse).  It was something to behold. I stood from a distance and watched.  The posters started turning on each other as they took sides  - no holds (nor language) barred.  Finally, about 500+ comments later, the page went down. 

After telling her about an experience I'd had shortly after starting my more frequent visits to FB, my lil sis gave me a bit of heads-up.  I'd commented on a post from a friend and someone else made another comment disagreeing.  On top of that, she added a term that, when interpreted, was essentially dismissive.   And I'm thinking: "I don't even know you?! Why would you do that?"  Lil sis 'warned' that, even in that space where you have mutual friends, some people just don't include care in their responses.  There is not always that civility that we have come to know and love. 

ONLINE SELVES

I know.  I've talked about this some, a few posts back.  On the whole matter of our online presence, however, it used to be that we had just this “version” of life to consider – our offline selves. Now, what happens to our online selves when we die? All that information remains “out there”, in blogs, tweets, professional and social networking sites and the like.  Depending on the content, some of it may continue to be helpful to others – inspiring, educational etc. – other parts, not so much.  In any case, in a kind of ironic twist, it lives on.  This may give insight into why many of us create something online in the first place.  It gives us a space to create that which is uniquely us; something that will outlive us and something by which we will (hopefully) be remembered.

Interestingly, however, it also creates an opportunity for others to do what they will with that online legacy or memory.  Where there is free access, free will reigns.  And, given the multiplicity of degrees of separation, especially when exacerbated by the thick wall of anonymity, comments can and do get downright insensitive, vicious and vitriolic.  Such is the nature of this beast that emerges in these situations.  It sinks its teeth into the jugular and rips you apart, simply because it has the means, the motive and the opportunity; sometimes, simply because it can. 

A WHOLE OTHER PERSON

Users of these spaces will quickly realize that they are not controlled environments – in the truest sense.  There are privacy settings, yes.  However, unless we wish to log in and talk only with ourselves, every connection we make constitutes a conscious act of inviting a “whole other person” into your life.  Persons come with their own beliefs, values, biases etc.,  which are not always in sync with ours.  And, as offline, we do not have control over what people think and say.  The natural human tendency is to respond to comments - especially defamatory ones – made about us and those we love.  We can easily, therefore, find ourselves in a quagmire no less agonizing and fruitless than trying to herd cats!   

Well, this greater frequency of exchanges has been enlightening.  Still, there have also been some very favourable moments as well.  (More about those in another post.)  Suffice it to say, I've found a few sweet spots on FB...

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

The Men In My Life

My previous post was dedicated to my girls.  Even as I wrote that one, I knew that the next one would be for my Dad - mainly. So much so that the title I thought of initially was: "The man in my life."  But, truth be told, I'd like to reserve that designation for my husband.  So, this one's for the "men" in my life (quotation marks explained later).

It is at this juncture that one stops, lowers one's shoulders (not realizing before that they were so tense), tilts one's head to the right and looks up at the ceiling - all in an effort to conceive where to begin to write about Daddy.  Well, maybe I could start here:

I HAVE THE BEST FATHER EVER!!!

As far back as I can remember - and my long-term memory is excellent (just occasionally selective) - Daddy has been a man of principle, integrity, wit, charm and charisma, possessing the heart of a Christ-like servant.  To me, his entire life has been a simple, yet extraordinary mix of God, family, church leadership and work.  And, in that order, too!  He knows his priorities and he hardly ever gets them confused.  I find that admirable.  He has four daughters and one wife and the only time he places them before the Lord is in prayer.  Speaking of prayer, I heard him pray out loud for us at one of our family devotions last year.  We'd had an opportunity to be together by Latz Art.  I had to smile when he said stteo: "Father, remember the children."  Even now as I write this, I'm chuckling.  Guess it's true what they say.  No matter how old you are, you're still a child for them!


A FATHER AT PLAY
Daddy now has a grand-daughter (aka KiKi) and son-in-law (aka Q).  It  was a trip seeing him play with his grand-daughter!  I was like, wait! What? Making all kinds of sounds and faces to get her attention.  He'd inform her, mock sternly, that she "shouldn't say" anything to the rest of us, but "talk" to him only.  This, when she was a whopping one month old!  Nothing amused and pleased him more than when she'd go quiet when he came by, after a long stint of unpacifiable crying.  He would admonish her not to mix with the "terrorists" aka "the rest of us" as we'd only come by to "terrorize" her! And on and on it went.  What am I saying?  On and on it goes!  She's a little over two years old and they keep quite the conversation.  KiKi, in one of her earlier sentences, told him over the phone, "Grand-dad I'm hungry." (She had just eaten.)  We could hear him over the phone asking to speak with her mother, to whom was then directed a (mock) onslaught of why she starving the child! Like I said, it goes on...

But that's a peek at Daddy with the family.  What does he mean to me and why do I like him so much?


WHY I LIKE MY DAD
He is one of the best friends for which a daughter could ever ask.  His heart toward me is genuine.  He looks out for me; cares for me and about me.  It doesn't matter how old I am - it never has - I can always rely on him.   He doesn't make me promises he has no intention of keeping and, if I ask him and he says he will, I just consider it done. 

Daddy has never told me that he loves me and there's never a day that I would doubt it.  I am precious to him and I know it.  He doesn't express his heart in words but indeed in deeds.  Now and again I listen to him showering accolades on me or bragging about me in public and I smile a bit, not knowing how to contain the swelling of thanks in my heart.  For, quite simply, I am thankful that I make him proud.


SENSE OF HUMOUR
I like him, too, because of his wicked sense of humour.  He makes me laugh.  And laugh.  And laugh.  Gotta share a recent episode that occurred on my vacation in Jamaica several days ago.  He informed me, shortly after picking me up at the airport, that we were going to head out with Mommy to the Fish-Fry at church. We got there, everything was fine.  The cooks then ran out of festival. But, this was no ordinary festival  This was festival with a twist - literally.  After kneading, they made the dough long and stringy, bent it in the middle, then repeatedly twisted each long piece over the other, before putting it in the pot of extra-hot oil to be fried.  Just before we left, Daddy asked them for the cost - for all three of us.  When the lady told him the amount, without missing a beat, Daddy replied, "Fi wha?  Fi likkle plait flowah?!"  A nearly pop up!!!  But, if you think that's something, you should hear the jokes he tells of his days living in James Hill, Clarendon - the district in which he grew up.  It would please me to write that book: Jokes My Father Tells.

Speaking of writing, he has wanted that for some time - for me to assist him in writing his book.  And I will, life spared.  He even has a title and has recently acquired a tape recorder to get cracking.  At this point in my writing journey, I have come to believe that I can actually do this!


GETS THINGS DONE
I imagine that most children who grow up with loving dads believe that their dad is strong and can do practically anything!  I was no exception.  This was a belief bolstered by a feat that we achieved working together one day when I was about nine.  In order to get a tarp tied to a post in the backyard, he hoisted me on his shoulders, then around his neck.  And there, in full view of those cheering me on, I wrapped the cord around whatever it should have been wrapped around and secured it.  When we were done, they were all pleased, none grinning more than I!  But, that's him.  He gets things done and you just feel pleased when you're a part of it, because you know it's gonna turn out okay.  After all, he's giving his all.


GIVING
He knows the meaning of giving, not just in lip service but in life service.  I have known him to give and provide for others without looking for anything in return.  There are some members of the clergy that get chewed out because, well, because they don't exhibit the heart of a servant.  Instead, they want to be served.  I don't quite know how to relate to that.   For, I have seen giving and a Christ's-servant heart in action, even though there have been some that have turned around and bit the hand.  But, Daddy has a saying, "Right must stay and wrong must go." 

These days, people hardly want to talk about right and wrong.  The risk of being labelled judgemental is very real and way too high.  But, in his mind, right is right and wrong is wrong.  It's a by-their-fruits-you-shall-know-them, thing, I imagine.  And, I admire that.  It takes courage, although he mightn't think so.  For him, it's just what it is.


HIS INFLUENCE
He has grown into quite the gentle giant.  He mightn't stand tall in stature, but his presence cannot help but be felt.  He fills a room simply by being in it.  Respect is earned, it is said.  He gives it and he earns it - and he doesn't stand for foolishness.  He was a strict father. (All his "warnings" to beat us never materialized.  He just held our shoulders and shook us, if things got to that). He never doted on us (three then, later on, four girls) but in his acts of kindness, grew us to realize that it's important to keep your word.  Given his strength and his support - including allowing me to make some heck of a painful mistakes - I have grown into a strong, independent, happy and stable young woman.  There are some things on which there will not - cannot - be any compromise, in whatever the relationship - work, intimate, social etc.  Sometime along the journey, he became my friend.  I am comfortable talking to him about the men who indicate some measure of interest at some point.  I have his support but I also know that he trusts my judgement.  And, he is praying for me. 

You know the saying, "All girls become their mothers" and another: "All girls marry their fathers"?  I cannot even get into the couch psychology on this;  not trained even for that layman level.  What I can say, however, is that there are good qualities in my dad, that I would like to see in my husband - the other man in my life.


THE OTHER MAN IN MY LIFE
OK, so, we haven't yet "connected" - hence the quotation marks up top.  Still, I am calling those things that are not, as though they are!  Not looking for a replica of my dad, but a few like traits.  These include a sense of humour; sense of responsibility; knowing what's important and keeping the priorities priorities.  In other matters:

My husband, Mr. Right-for-me, is a man who will cut open the tin of cheese and then proceed to remove it from the tin, not leave it there on the counter still in the tin, knowing full well that that's the harder part. I am a strong young woman, but removing Tastee cheese from the big tin is pretty demanding!

My husband is a man who is not afraid of croaking liz**ds.  Even spelling it out freaks me out!

My husband is a man who is able to do Maths and can help the children with that and like homework.

And, I look forward to meeting my him, and for the day when he whispers those three little words, "I'll do laundry."  (I've never met a chore I hated more. To parody a Monk line: I hate laundry's guts!)

On a more serious note, though (operative term being "more"), God's gift to me, my him, complements me. Christ already completes me; He is It for me.  My husband, who is also complete in Christ, complements the person I have become in Christ, and I him.  He knows, as Prov. 31 says, that his heart can safely trust in me, so that he has no need of spoil, and that I will do him good and not evil all the days of my life. And, we honour the divinity in each other.

I cannot help but smile as I think about how God perfects all that concerns me.  He has blessed me with a wonderful father, a loving and supportive rest of family.  And, to think, there's mine to come!


Claudia
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