LEARNING TO SPELL

Webster'sLearning to Spell

She’s only thirteen and still innocent. Her eyebrows arch in question as she toils over her homework at the kitchen table. She bats her long lashes covering her blue eyes and looks up at her mother by the kitchen sink. “Mom?”
Her mom, a school teacher, stoops over the dinner dishes in the condo the two of them live in. “Yes, honey?”
“How do you spell – salvation?” Her eyes are hopeful.
Her mom purses her lips and then smiles, “Honey, I’ve told you before how to spell it:
D-I-C-T-I-O-N-A-R-Y.”
“Aaaarrrgh!” She throws her pencil down. She goes to the shelves to find the red book with “WEBSTER’s” across the top.

–Now that we have spell check, we don’t have this argument anymore, but this actually happened to my friend all the time.
Spell check doesn’t solve all the mistakes.

Her mother wanted her to find the answers herself.


I witnessed an argument between my two friends who are married. I was in the back seat of the Honda CR-V as the two of them argued over the homemade pasta they two of them made several months earlier. We were heading to the store to get the ingredients for them to make it again. Since I am in no way a gourmet cook (and this was before everyone had internet on their phones), I couldn’t help them. I watched.
“There are eggs in pasta.” I see him smile in the rearview mirror. He never raises his voice. He knows he’s right.
“No, we didn’t use them last time. Your mom’s recipe didn’t have them in it.” She is a little red in the face. She’s certain she’s right.
“Yes. Her recipe. We did. We used eggs.” He is steady.
“No. We didn’t.” She is firm.
“Yes, we did.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“You will soon find out.” The smile again.
“I already know.” The heat rising in her cheeks.
It went on for the rest of the trip to the store. She never gave in. He bought the eggs anyway.
She still didn’t believe him. When we got to their house, she checked three recipe books and scoured the internet. She couldn’t believe there were eggs in pasta. She called his mother. She’s had her back before in disagreements; it must’ve been a special recipe?!
Guess what?
There are eggs in pasta.

Sometimes we just don’t believe it; even when we find the answer.

I am a Taurus (the bull.)
I once dated an Aries (the ram.)
Once.
We disagreed on many things. One time, we spent an entire Diamondbacks baseball game arguing over marathon runners. I was considering doing my first marathon. He swore I couldn’t because all marathon runners are thinly built and I didn’t have that build. I am a runner—I have seen many fit people in all sizes and shapes finish marathons. He could argue a point into the ground. He was relentless and I often gave up because it was too exhausting. (But I still ran the marathon!)
I searched for a different way to end our arguments. I discovered betting. I have always been pretty lucky.
So, we had just seen the movie, “Meet the Parents.” We were disagreeing about the scene where the ex-boyfriend (Owen Wilson) reveals his wedding present to Gaylord (Ben Stiller) and his fiancée (Teri Polo). In the movie, Owen’s character carved an archway for Teri’s character out of one piece of wood in just 70 hours.
My boyfriend couldn’t believe this could happen. He knew it would take longer—being an amateur wood-worker himself. He claimed they said it took him 700 hours. I had seen the movie twice and knew the scene. I argued for the 70 hours.
I was laughing.
He was fuming.
I said, “Let’s bet on it. If it’s 700 hours, I will buy you the movie. If i’s 70 hours, you buy me the movie.”
This betting tactic worked to silence the argument; temporarily.
I now own the movie.
Don’t get me wrong; I am not saying I have never been wrong. I have been wrong PLENTY. I don’t have it figured out, but I know what I know.

You might have your own thoughts on why something doesn’t make sense, but truth is truth.

I hashed it out in life. Checked the answers and fought the battles within my own soul. I don’t know why things like 9-11 or the Boston Marathon happen. I don’t know why innocent souls are taken by evil men and haunted for years of their innocence. I don’t know why there is injustice that goes seemingly unpunished.
I don’t know the mind of God.
But I did the work. I “went to the shelves.” I found The Book. I don’t know the answers to every mystery, but it contains the truth.
How do I spell “salvation?” With the blood of the Lamb:
J-E-S-U-S C-H-R-I-S-T
I am a very lucky person when it comes to betting.
I am betting my life on this One.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s