“This Is the Operator Speaking”
I wonder on occasion how Peter Piper pondered the constant queries regarding his pickled pepper pursuits and the preponderance of postulations regarding just how many pecks he picked. And then there sits sister Sally on the seashore and the insistent invasions of her joyful seashell sequestering. Who could forget old Esau on the seesaw, the unanswered solution as to just who’s girl he enjoyed the teeter totter triangle of jealousy, and how seamlessly Esau was sawed off the old seesaw in unsightly revenge. Chuck, my goodness good soul Chuck – just how much wood could he chuck if he would chuck wood or if he possibly could chuck the copious cords of cuttings? Will we ever know what the stump thunk regarding the skunk stunk invading its rest or if the skunk’s thunks proved contradictory to the correlations of odiferous concerns? My true think lies in the loss of such alliterative concoctions in the face of the modern world. We now have text talk, that abbreviated land of lackluster nothings that create confusion upon confusion when sent from the mePhone generation to the “hello-this-is-the-operator” ancestral text-ee’s. Yes, I go back that far – and my daughters have only the faintest of recollections of a toy dial phone, familiarity with the touch tone, and the horrific attachment by line to the wall. Their original “cell” phone was a cordless, touch tone, leave it anywhere to die its battery death, various colored monster called a telephone.
I began a search for information regarding this “new” language I am supposed to “knew” as my children find occasional frustration with futile, fantasmagorical responses to fractured figments of their mind’s fermentations. A website quickly appeared with a general list followed by an “A” to “Z” multitude of magnificent meanderings meaningfully listed to ease exacerbation and exemplify for impending use. Of great significance to me was the discovery that the question mark still means “huh?”! @TEOTD (at the end of the day), I realized the hopelessly happenstance and individualized use of all this hieroglyphic effort created an impossible maze to meander to understanding for my aged brain. .02 (my two cents worth) likely won’t matter in the grand scheme of things nowadays, but I 1DR (wonder) if I am 1NAM (1 in a million) or part of a million that just cannot get the strings tuned in for the modern day. I know for sure this exercise gave me 2MI (too much information) and playing with it simply reveals the fuddy-duddy-ness of my days. In the Thai language, the number 5 is pronounced “ha.” Thus, I hope reading this provides 55555.
Well, I have gone a long way around the barn to get to it. Last Sunday resulted in one of the best attended congregational meetings in my memory. Our church addresses change and change brings uneasiness. Votes don’t go according to script, questions arise to clarify and bring more understanding, and intergenerational communication begins to take root. From recent confirmands to our most young at heart, the voices came – not many spoke, but everyone listened. I think a message lay in the numbers. I sensed a general recognition of change, recognition of new ideas, and recognition of new ways, but that understanding walked hand in hand with a desire for accountability. Not change for change’s sake, but change for good, solid, and prayerful reason. Change based first and foremost in faith in Jesus Christ and belief that God guides us if we but first pray and open our hearts to hear His words.
I know in text talk the number 9 means “parent watching” as someone types. I’d like to think our heavenly 9 watched over the meeting and gave us Direction. ^5 to all attendees and I trust God will richly bless our move forward under new leadership, guided by a revised constitution, and entrusted with keeping the purity of the Word of God ever present in our gatherings. God really seems 2G2BT, but ever True He is, and pretty Good all along the way.