Few things slay my inner grammarian like hearing someone botch a perfectly good word or phrase. Folks do it “alot” (ahem).
And I’m silently correcting their grammar.
Hearing Americans talk and write about the Republican and Democratic “cannidates” could spell disaster for the future of our country. And, I’m talking about the mispronunciation of candidates, not the potential election results.
I’m silently correcting their grammar, and praying for the elections.
Listening to a young lifeguard friend tell about the time she had to swim “acrosst” the bay to make sure someone didn’t “drownd” while goofing around in the surf, makes me cray-cray.
I’m silently correcting her grammar, while thanking God for her bravery.
But, for all intensive purposes, I think it’s best if people stop using that phrase. Because, for all intents and purposes, it’s being used incorrectly.
Providing me another opportunity to silently correct grammar.
And I make jokes with my other grammar abiding friends about this private act of silently correcting others’ grammar.
Never once did I give it another thought.
I jokingly used a phrase with my sweetkids the other day. “Listen up peoples!”
And my children not-so-silently corrected my grammar.
Humility…I am still learning it.
Parenting, it is a mighty teacher.
Oh, yes indeedy.
I am trying to train those children up in the way they should go. But, Lord? Could my training not come back and hit me upside the head so very often?
While my defenses rose and I felt the need to shout-explain, “I know that!”, I felt Humility, Himself, knocking on my heart’s door. With each knock, there was a growing unease in my soul at my many silent corrections.
Proverbs 3:7 harked back to mind,
But, as usual, grace laps over the edges of my spirit as I submit my desire to know more to His desire for me to love more.
The rest of that “train your children up” verse? It says to do so in the hopes that when they are old, they won’t depart from it [their training].
I’ve departed. Oh, how I’ve departed again and again.
I’d like to stop departing now. Please, and thank you.
In the meantime, I’ll stop silently correcting grammar.
Thankfully, there is no statue of limitations on grace.