It seems as if all I've been doing lately is writing. Since we haven't had the opportunity to discuss things face to face, the online seminary class I've been taking has required lots of writing. We are given assignments to reflect on situations we have encountered, to evaluate how we handled them, what we might have done differently, and to consider the theological implications of it all. Then, we are to respond to the others' similar reflections. Inadvertently, I missed the last assignment due two days ago, and was playing catch-up today, in addition to trying to make sense of the next assignment, which looks like it's heading in an unanticipated (by me) direction. It's not exactly bait and switch, but I'm not sure what to do with it.
In addition to that, I've joined a writer's group at the local library, populated by published authors who actually write pretty good novels. I have read some of their stuff, and wonder what I'm doing in such a gathering of graphophiles. I'm not sure that's even a word, but it sounds impressive. (Actually, I just researched it). "Logophile" is apparently the correct term for word lover. But I'm talking of the love of writing, so I think I've either used or coined the correct term. At the end of each meeting (thankfully, only weekly), we are given a prompt to help us keep writing for the week. As if I need the help right now! Last week, some wrote pages; two wrote some very witty poems. I wrote a measly paragraph.
The problem is, I love words. I like being able to manipulate them, making them do my bidding. They can be obstinate and recalcitrant, but that's part of the game; finding just the right turn of a phrase that says what others would like to say, but cannot, the word or words that literally glisten in their own light. One of the writers at the library group last week likened writing a story or novel to playing God. I think it's true. We get to create as many people as we want, then we get to mess with their lives. It can really be quite intoxicating, filling the writer with either love or loathing. The process can be cathartic, but it can also twist and distort the mind and soul as the creatures we've created take on a life of their own, but always at the sometimes gentle, sometimes cruel, but always manipulative hand of the author.
So here I am at the close of the day, messing around once more with words. What a marvelous gift they are! The ability to express emotion, to expand horizons, to lift the soul and spirit to hitherto unknown heights. They also have the power to destroy, to twist and pervert, to conceal as well as to reveal. They are dangerous things, these combinations of letters and sounds. I hold in my mind the power to bless or curse, to bring hope or despair, to tickle the funny bone or shatter the heart. And all this is because behind the words lies the Word, the very expression of God himself. When I place words before people, I can either reveal the very Word of God, or I can twist things till instead of revealing God himself, he becomes hidden and unrecognizable behind the distortion I've created. My words; our words, are mighty for good or evil. I pray mine bless, and do not curse, and I am thankful for those times God has used them to that end.
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