Cut it out. Please!
Apparently, that needs to be put out there. But I don’t like it.
Still, I always appreciate you being here. Well, that was an understatement.
Believe me, I’d rather be writing Room with a View Part VII. I’d like to add to The Light of Dawn and The Rhythm of Waiting and make it a trilogy. I’d like to write more poems, use “thees” and “thous” and speak of roses and a garden.
But instead, I am writing about cutting.
There are a time and a place, of course, for cutting; it is usually in the kitchen. I like doing it in the kitchen and I like my knives: mostly German, one Japanese, one from Finland, and a little carbon steel paring knife from the U.S. (Chicago). And they are sharp, dangerously so, like some words can be. But they are not words, they are knives.
The NT book of Ephesians is full of counsel about using our mouths for building up others, extending grace to them, and strengthening the body of Christ (Ephesians 4). Similar counsel is all over the Bible, especially in all the letters that Paul wrote way back when.
The living Word is the same: it is alive and active and sharp, more sharp, even, than my knives. It is not sharp to cut down but to cut through to the truth.
So, cut it out, and tell the truth. Just putting that out there again, but I don’t like it.
And I don’t like that you had to wade through it to get this far. For you, I’d rather be writing something else altogether.
“J, 6G, U.S.A., F, and that last one of unknown origin, useful for sawing through those two places in a turkey too tough for a fine edge and I am in charge of cooking the Thanksgiving turkey again this year and I will bring two of my other knives again because I am the designated carver also. And I like it.” © 2018 Timothy Waugh