They're Just Words

Those of you who are parents will understand when I say that I worried about every single teeny, tiny thing that my firstborn son Matt did or didn't do. I think that's true of most first-time parents because ... well ... because it's the first time they've ever been parents. All of a sudden, I went from not having to take care of anyone but myself to having this little human being who depended on me for everything. I worried about whether or not Matt was eating enough, sleeping enough, learning enough, growing enough and talking enough. Yes, talking enough. You see, Matt didn't say a word until he was almost two years old. No "ma-ma" or "da-da" or "no" or "dog" or anything ... not one word. In fact, Matt didn't make many sounds at all ... oh, he cried when he was hungry or tired or needed a diaper change, but he didn't talk. Matt's pediatrician was an older gentleman; in fact, Dr. Miller was my doctor when I was a kid. And when I would voice my concern to the old doctor about my son not saying words, Dr. Miller would always have the same answer ... "This boy is just fine, Terrie, stop your worrying. When he has something to say, he'll say it." And guess what? Dr. Miller was absolutely correct. One day when Matt was almost two, I went into his room to get him out of his bed after a nap. My sweet little boy looked up at me and nonchalantly said, "I want out." And now, he's a professor in Canada ... yep, old Dr. Miller was right indeed about when Mattie would talk. My son talked when he had something to say ... Matt finally spoke when he had something to say that his little mind thought was important enough to verbalize.

I've been thinking a lot about words for the last couple of weeks, for many different reasons. I read a lot of words in my job as a senior editor ... big words and small words, simple words and technical words, action words and descriptive words. I write a lot of words, too, for this blog, for the book I'm working on, for my speaking engagements. The truth is that a large part of my life revolves around words, both written and spoken ones. And when I'm not reading, writing or speaking words, my brain is constantly swarming with words ... I think that's why I have so much trouble sleeping, because I always have words flowing through my mind. Whether it's the formulation of future ideas for writing or speaking, or the word-by-word replaying of previous conversations I've had, or the recollection of things I've read ... I eat, sleep, drink and breathe words ... all ... the ... time.

Many people have asked me what the life-saving head doctor and I talk about in our sessions, and most of the time my answer is the same, "Stuff," ... how's that for a great answer from such a wordsmith as myself? The truth is that we really do talk about stuff, life stuff, and lots of it. Sometimes I do most of the talking, and other times, the good doctor has more to say than I do. Take yesterday, for example ... I was in a whiny, grumpy, frustrated, angry mood, and the life-saving head doctor had a lot (a whole lot, actually) to say about my state of mind. As I listened to her talk about control and surrender ... me learning to give up the first and practice the second ... I had a million words bouncing around in my head. Words like "I don't care" and "Why do I have to do this?" and "That's ridiculous" and "Can I be done now?" and "I don't want to," among others that were just as positive and affirming as those ... not.

As I drove home after my appointment, I said out loud in the car over and over and over again, "They're just words ... they're just stupid words ... I shouldn't have to say them ... they're just words ... they're just stupid words." I fussed and whined and griped and said those statements out loud off and on all day yesterday ... they were the last words I spoke before I went to bed last night, and the first words I said aloud this morning. But then ... then I decided to take Ollie for a short walk before I settled in to edit some work I brought home on Friday evening. My little hound and I had barely stepped onto the trail when another set of words began to form in my mind. "She is right ... the life-saving head doctor is right ... she is right about saying the words." I cried crocodile tears as I reached down and scooped Ollie into my arms, buried my face in his soft fur and said aloud, "She's right, wiener dog ... the life-saving head doctor is right about the words."

I wrote a while back about the dreaded "a" word ... accountability ... and how I don't care much for it. And in that post, I wrote about being held accountable by a friend at work to keep a promise I made to do something a certain number of times each week. All along, I've thought that promise was just about saying some words, but it's really about so much more. Keeping that promise is about honor and integrity and character ... keeping that promise is about humility and surrender and trust. Keeping that promise is about believing those words have the power to help me get well ... the power to help me grow ... the power to help me live. 

"They're just words ... they're just stupid words ... I shouldn't have to say them ... they're just words ... they're just stupid words." Nope, nope, they aren't just words at all ... they are so very much more than just words.

"May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14