Wednesday, February 19, 2014

When Good Kids Say Bad Words



♫ 'Cause you're a good kid and you know it... ♫  

     That's my own personal remix of Drake's song, "Just Hold On, We're Going Home". For those that aren't familiar at this point with this now played out song....that I still love, Click Here.

     So I was at Le Target by myself not too long ago. And I found myself traipsing all over the store, just getting sucked into the vortex that is Target. And then when I passed the paper towel aisle, I saw this incredibly cute little boy probably about 5 years old, in a shopping cart, being pushed around by his determined father. And when I say determined, I mean, he was a young hip father, but definitely didn't have time for Target. He was there on assignment--clearly.

     And this little boy kept saying, "Ship, ship, ship, ship, ship, ship, ship." Over and over again. Proud as a peacock. Non-stop. I mean, there wasn't even a medley to it. It was like a steady monotone march proceeding from his mouth.

     I smiled. And I thought to myself, "Awww, isn't that cute?" (Of course I would say that, I didn't have to listen to it for more than a few seconds...but still.)

     And the father saw me smile and he tried to muster a smile back, but didn't.

     Wow, man. Okay. #rude

     And so I continue fake shopping in Target. And I find myself in the food section. Duh. Of course I do. And guess who rounds the corner. Yes. You guessed it. "Ship, ship, ship, ship, ship, ship, ship..."

     And his father and I exchange a quick glance. I smile out of habit this time and once again, the dad quickly turns his gaze away and whips his cart around the corner. I'm pretty sure there were cart skid marks on the ground after that.

     So I just shook my head. #Somepeople

     Continuing on, I'm now finally nearing the checkout. And who then rolls up behind me in their cart...

     I mean, there has got to be some scientific term for how you keep bumping into the same 3 people in any given place, store, city, school, office, etc. I mean, am I the only one that finds this a bit weird? How does this consistently keep happening in our lives?! Ok. I digress.

     So yes, "Ship, ship, ship, ship" and company are right behind me in line. Of all the lines available.

     And then I turn around to give this little boy one last smile and I watch his mouth for a moment as he continues on with his favorite word. And then it dawns on me...He's not saying "Ship" at all...




     Ohhhhhhh. Now I understand why dad didn't smile back as a simple gesture of acknowledgment and appreciation of me thinking his child was cute and amazing. Dad was partially embarrassed and ashamed. I could now properly see it on his face. And in our brief exchanges throughout the store, he probably wanted to pause all of his current efforts and simply say, "But he's a good kid, and I know it." But he didn't have time for all that. And instead dad tried to pummel through.


     From the perspective of our dad in this story, isn't it just like shame to shut us up and to have us miss the good and kind intentions that are trying to infiltrate our lives. With that said, don't let shame steal from your life. And please don't miss the good working in your life this week--those things that are trying to smile back at you and engage you in some positive way.

     And how many times are we that little boy. Where we are often unaware of the fruitless words that we use. And they somehow become a false marking of our identity. We like using these words, because everyone else is using them. And they have the illusion of real power. Note: I'm not merely talking about curse words here, but words of our culture, words that are not true representations of who we really are.

     Having said that, let the words of our mouths affirm the beautiful character and identity we are meant to genuinely walk in.

     I know we won't always say the perfect words, but never forget who you really are.



Wisdom's Knocking:

“It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being.” 
 ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise





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