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Words Matter

Stories became important to me when I was young even before I learned how to read. Mother read to me every day and then worked with me once I reached the grade in school where we started learning how. But I struggled with it in first grade and so it took extra work for Mom to pass on her joy of reading she had gotten from her own mother--a grandmother I never knew as she passed when my Mom was 21. Then once I got the hang of it I took off like a shot and was soon consuming books beyond my years. In 5th grade, I earned a silver medal from the March of Dimes for reading over 100 books! Or at least close to it. That was a fun summer.

We didn't go on trips every summer of my growing up but when we did there were stories to tell. Some I never will as they tangled to much to the words that came from frustration and some sort of disagreement I chose to ignore by plugging my ears with music and digging deeper into my current read. When we did go traveling it was by road with a truck and travel trailer and I would take a stack of books at least. Every two years we would go to Ohio to see my family on my mom's side as Dad's called The Pacific Northwest home as well. I still miss those summer days taking that seemingly endless road into all sorts of adventures.

I was an only child so if I ran out books to read there were always the stories I told myself until finally I began to write them down when I was eleven. If there was an ending I did not like, I would get mad, pitch a fit and never revisit the book again. Even so I would still readjust the ending to what I think would have been better or more fun. Looking back, I see now that I had been telling myself stories long before I picked up my first book to read myself. Neither did it end with books as I saw and fell in love with anything that had a storyline, going as far as creating my own character to have adventures with my favorite ones. Which means I was a Jedi Knight ready to continue where the movies left off or The Captain's daughter that was kidnapped by pirates long before the ride became a movie series.

Stories have been used since the beginning of man to pass down histories of peoples and even carved onto cave walls as picture stories. Then I learned that not only are stories important but the words that form them are even more so. So then I began to savor each one like the best chocolate ever or the best wine once I discovered it--thank you, Susie! After all, that is much better a use for words than to use them in anger as a weapon against another or even myself--okay, most often the negative words were used against myself in the place of a razor as physical scars heal. Unfortunately, words wounds are longer lasting as they reach deeper into the soul to carve out the heart. That is what the enemy wants and frankly, I am so tired of being told what to do that I refuse to give him anymore of such satisfaction.

Instead, I choose to use my words more wisely and fill them with positive love instead. As a result of my own improved words bolstered by the healing ones my friends have spoken over me for years, I can finally say it is Well With My Soul. And you know what? That hole in my heart is gone! I am always here to listen for any who needs it so drop me a line if you wish and may God give you peace.

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