You know, I used to swear. When I was at the end of high school and beginning college. Not a lot. Just sometimes. A shit or a damn now and then. Expletive. I was on the leadership team of the Baptist Student Union. We were all going on a weekend retreat. Headed from Gunnison over to Colorado Springs. I had my bag, pillow and a handy dandy carrying case for all of my cassettes of christian music. I turned to lock my dorm room...or check it at least. As I turned back around to rush down the hallway...running late....I lost hold of the handy dandy case with the push button latch...which hit the floor at just the right angle to pop the latch and scatter the forty cassettes everywhere. I emphatically said, "shit!" just as my neighbor that I had been inviting to BSU came out her door. I was mortified. I had cussed. I picked up my christian tapes and stuffed them back in the box with a red face. I didn't make eye contact with the girl. Heck, I don't think I even talked to her ever again. I was embarrassed. I was ashamed. I determined not to cuss anymore. To do better. But. I left that girl.
I should have said, "don't you hate when that happens?" Or, "Oops, sorry, sometimes I lose control." Or....or anything. But instead....I failed to just be real.
Later on in life, I got married. Had kids. I didn't cuss anymore. I held life together. I pulled it all in. I held my marriage together. I prayed. I asked to grow and become the woman that God wanted me to be. To serve. To give. To put others above myself.
For over twenty years. But, the one person that could push me to "near" cussing...or words comparable to cussing was my ex. I didn't really cuss. Used words that were similar. Held the others in my head. Mostly. Until the end. Then they started to come out a bit. I didn't care what he thought of me. I didn't respect who he was. How he treated me. How he treated my kids...our kids....his very own kids. But still, it was not the norm.
But, now, honestly, when I think of him, I have to stop and think, "that's because he's an ass." It keeps me from feeling so crazy and trying to wonder why. Trying to figure out why he behaves how he does. Jackass. That's in my thoughts often. And I wonder what it means as far as the commandments. Jesus said if I call a man a fool, I've committed murder. Sigh. Well, I also used to wish my ex would die. Be gone. I'm guilty. Sinful. I am learning to forgive. I'm also learning not to be false. The truth is that cussing releases emotion. I have been known to shout a few in my car. Letting go of feelings. Feelings too deep and painful for regular, polite words. That's the thing. It's not the words. It's who I am becoming. And who I am becoming is ok with God. Real. Knowing that He is my grace. My mercy. My only hope. I can't be enough. I can only be what I am and give it all to Him. And let Him change me, grow me, lead me, teach me....in His time. Without any games. Without any pretense.
Letting go. Releasing. Not impressing. Just being. It's a novel thing for me. Well, at least since those married years. Years of being repressed. Held back. Pushed down. Yes, I had decided that cussing was bad. And, it's not that pretty. But my marriage was repressive in ways way beyond language. And in my language, my very soul cries out to be freed from the tyranny, the unkindness, the constantly having to make everything ok, the having to be good to be loved, the constant earning of affection.
And I'm not the only one. Actually, mine is mild. One lovely christian woman told me that at the very end she began using double fisted middle fingers at her ex. Another one, who was always the "no cuss miss", screamed "f***ing a**hole out a car window up in the mountains after having to meet with her ex.
Frankly, I don't overpepper my language with cursing. However, I am learning that I do not have to button it all down either. It is good to have a happy and peaceful heart. But when it's not, faking it doesn't make it so. It also doesn't make me more saintly. ;) But, what about, be angry yet sin not? I struggle with that. What about leaving room for God to heap burning coals? hahhahahaha.....love the picture that just ran through my mind....until I saw what I deserve as well. The thing is that cussing just helps to release the ick. It gives me a sense that I am allowed to not be perfect. And regarding that part about Jesus saying that calling a man a fool is committing murder? I know what that was about.....it was about getting people to realize that we are ALL murderers and adulterers and thieves....it was about bringing us to a place of knowing that HE is our only hope.
I'm thinking that eventually I'll settle in and curse less. But I don't feel a sense of urgency. I know that God loves me right where I am. And.....He gets the anguish. He hears more than just my words, He hears my heart. My soul. My longing.
And that is a relief. Because there were no words. No actions. No methods. None. That caused my ex to hear me. To see me. To know me. He had no interest. Only in him. And it's just that way. But I still tend to fall back into taking care of him. In worrying how he'll feel. Into putting him above me. With no wise reason to do so. Cussing...saying, "oh yeah, he's a jackass and that's why he does that" helps to let me box all of that not understanding why he treats others so senselessly into a place where my mind isn't constantly grappling to define what it was that was and is wrong.
Keep it real.
blessings.
I should have said, "don't you hate when that happens?" Or, "Oops, sorry, sometimes I lose control." Or....or anything. But instead....I failed to just be real.
Later on in life, I got married. Had kids. I didn't cuss anymore. I held life together. I pulled it all in. I held my marriage together. I prayed. I asked to grow and become the woman that God wanted me to be. To serve. To give. To put others above myself.
For over twenty years. But, the one person that could push me to "near" cussing...or words comparable to cussing was my ex. I didn't really cuss. Used words that were similar. Held the others in my head. Mostly. Until the end. Then they started to come out a bit. I didn't care what he thought of me. I didn't respect who he was. How he treated me. How he treated my kids...our kids....his very own kids. But still, it was not the norm.
But, now, honestly, when I think of him, I have to stop and think, "that's because he's an ass." It keeps me from feeling so crazy and trying to wonder why. Trying to figure out why he behaves how he does. Jackass. That's in my thoughts often. And I wonder what it means as far as the commandments. Jesus said if I call a man a fool, I've committed murder. Sigh. Well, I also used to wish my ex would die. Be gone. I'm guilty. Sinful. I am learning to forgive. I'm also learning not to be false. The truth is that cussing releases emotion. I have been known to shout a few in my car. Letting go of feelings. Feelings too deep and painful for regular, polite words. That's the thing. It's not the words. It's who I am becoming. And who I am becoming is ok with God. Real. Knowing that He is my grace. My mercy. My only hope. I can't be enough. I can only be what I am and give it all to Him. And let Him change me, grow me, lead me, teach me....in His time. Without any games. Without any pretense.
Letting go. Releasing. Not impressing. Just being. It's a novel thing for me. Well, at least since those married years. Years of being repressed. Held back. Pushed down. Yes, I had decided that cussing was bad. And, it's not that pretty. But my marriage was repressive in ways way beyond language. And in my language, my very soul cries out to be freed from the tyranny, the unkindness, the constantly having to make everything ok, the having to be good to be loved, the constant earning of affection.
And I'm not the only one. Actually, mine is mild. One lovely christian woman told me that at the very end she began using double fisted middle fingers at her ex. Another one, who was always the "no cuss miss", screamed "f***ing a**hole out a car window up in the mountains after having to meet with her ex.
Frankly, I don't overpepper my language with cursing. However, I am learning that I do not have to button it all down either. It is good to have a happy and peaceful heart. But when it's not, faking it doesn't make it so. It also doesn't make me more saintly. ;) But, what about, be angry yet sin not? I struggle with that. What about leaving room for God to heap burning coals? hahhahahaha.....love the picture that just ran through my mind....until I saw what I deserve as well. The thing is that cussing just helps to release the ick. It gives me a sense that I am allowed to not be perfect. And regarding that part about Jesus saying that calling a man a fool is committing murder? I know what that was about.....it was about getting people to realize that we are ALL murderers and adulterers and thieves....it was about bringing us to a place of knowing that HE is our only hope.
I'm thinking that eventually I'll settle in and curse less. But I don't feel a sense of urgency. I know that God loves me right where I am. And.....He gets the anguish. He hears more than just my words, He hears my heart. My soul. My longing.
And that is a relief. Because there were no words. No actions. No methods. None. That caused my ex to hear me. To see me. To know me. He had no interest. Only in him. And it's just that way. But I still tend to fall back into taking care of him. In worrying how he'll feel. Into putting him above me. With no wise reason to do so. Cussing...saying, "oh yeah, he's a jackass and that's why he does that" helps to let me box all of that not understanding why he treats others so senselessly into a place where my mind isn't constantly grappling to define what it was that was and is wrong.
Keep it real.
blessings.
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