Cleaning it Up

Words...I have always been fascinated with words. Even as a child I loved words, it's why I wrote on the walls with crayons as a toddler. (Unfortunately my parents didn't quite understand that) It was this same fascination with words that found me tucked away in the corner of the basement reading while other kids were outside running around.

Aside from the books I read, my vocabulary had it's limitations. My social circle consisted of my family and the people who attended my church and most of them were my family. That was until I began attending school. That was when I heard my first "dirty words." Ironically the school I attended was Catholic School, however I didn't hear these words from my fellow students or any of the teachers. The school had a program where they would feed the poor and the homeless. While the students were in class, the cafeteria was a sort of soup kitchen. One day I happened to be in the cafeteria when the people began to gather to be fed. It was there that my little ears began to hear all sorts of words being used quite frequently and passionately I might add. I had no idea what they meant but they sure sounded like they were perfect for emphasizing or making a statement.

There was one word in particular that struck a chord when I first heard it, and after that it was kind of parked at the end of my tongue waiting for the perfect opportunity to be let loosed. It wasn't until the next morning that I had my chance to use it. I was sitting at the table eating my breakfast. My mother was brushing my sister's hair. As usual my sister, who was the older of us, began picking on me. In spite of my fascination with words most mornings I would sit and pout unable to respond to her jeering. On this day however I was ready for her. I let her get in a few insults and then I let her have it...I released that word with just as much zeal and tenacity as I had heard the people in the cafeteria using. I had barely enunciated the "f" when the look of horror and shock on both my mother and sister's faces told me that this was not a good word to be saying. However I had unleashed it with such force that it was too late to try and stifle it or reel it back in. By the time I had pronounced the last syllable (k), my mother had reached across the table, brush in hand, and whacked me right across the top of my head, breaking what was supposed to be an unbreakable brush.

After getting cracked on the head I received the beating of my life which served as an everlasting reminder to no utter dirty or profane words. It wasn't quite everlasting, because as I got older I just learned to be more careful and managed to pull off a bi-lingual routine speaking one way around my parents and family and having a completely different vernacular when with my friends and acquaintances. During my stint in the military my buddies would always entertain themselves by listening in on my phone conversations with my parents. The will laugh hysterically as they heard me respond with "Yes Ma-am" and Yes Sir" while talking to my parents. Of course when I got off the phone I would have a few choice words for them, which would only make them laugh even harder.

One of those friends didn't think that it was funny, and one day he pulled me to the side. He explained to me that people who always use profanity do so because they have a limited vocabulary. I tried to argue with him, after all I loved words I knew a lot of them and even had a fascination of them. He said it was not evident or apparent from the way I talked, and for the first time I began to re-think my word choices.

Fast forward to years later, with children of my own, and diligently trying to model my life after the example set by Christ, I had settled myself on the fact that profane words are a no go. I realize that my words can either be delivered to administer life and healing, or they can be deadly and destructive. In spite of knowing this there are still several dirty words that I struggle with daily.

Given the right set of circumstance before I even know what happened I can find myself uttering these words. These words have a chameleon like ability to them seeming to be perfect for almost every sentence and situation and when I am not careful they creep their way right in. Of all the dirty words I have ever used these are the most dangerous. Like many extremely dangerous things the danger isn't always readily spotted, and when I use these words many people don't even pay it a second thought, because many of them fail to see the danger of them and therefore they fail to hold me accountable or even question me about the use of them, the way my friend did years ago.

It's not even a matter of me being angry when I use these words, my wife can politely ask me to do something and before I know it my response is "******" or "******" A client can call me to ask about a particular project and if I am not careful I will blurt out "******" While looking at my list of things to do the first word that tries to pop into my head is "****" and it is a constant struggle to purge myself of the use of these dirty words.

Truth be told the dirty words I struggle with are not profane, but given the way I am tempted to use and have used them before, they are still dirty words. The words are...used in everyday circles by many people, but for me they are dirty words. The words are...."Later" and "tomorrow." These are the procrastinators dirty words. These are my dirty words and I have a feeling that I am not the only person for whom these words are dirty. As I am typing this I am sure that there is someone somewhere putting off for tomorrow what they should probably be doing today. "I'll change tomorrow" or "I'll make better choices tomorrow" or "I'll take care of that later" But sometimes 'tomorrow never comes and later gets even later and later"

I know that when it comes to my use of these "dirty words" that I have to start doing better..and I will...tomorrow!