A Light for My Path

I’m a self-confessed word nerd. As an English major, an avid reader, and a writer, words are important to me. I take pride in having a big vocabulary. I like to understand the roots and etymology of words. My husband is also an English major and a writer. His reading interests are probably wider than mine are. We relish the times when one of us misuses a word, or doesn’t pronounce it correctly. The competition to be the better linguist is fierce. Our conversations would likely bore most people to tears.

They say that opposites attract, but in our case, there’s a lot to be said for mutual interests. Especially, when those interests are esoteric.

But, there’s a vocabulary I wish I was not familiar with. One I don’t hear very much in day-to-day conversation. But, is oh too common amongst the bereaved parent groups I belong to. These words haunt us at night and stick in our throat. Words like:

Words that are not unknown in standard English, but are not typically spoken in regard to children or young adults. Words that make others uncomfortable. Not because they don’t understand them, but because they hit too close to home.

And yet, we can’t avoid them.

Still, we try. We try to limit our vocabulary when we’re talking to casual acquaintances. We talk around the subject of how many children we have. We steer the conversation to neutral topics. Ones that don’t require us to say the words “my child died.”

Not because we don’t have the necessary vocabulary to say those words. And, many, many more. Believe me, we can talk about our children. Any and all of them. But, when that subject includes a child that no longer lives on this earth, the associated terminology is distressing, to say the least.

Now, not everything I have to say about my younger daughter has to do with her death. I have all kinds of anecdotes I can share from when she was a cute toddler, a rebellious teen, an ambitious college student, a determined young professional, to an enraptured bride. But, if you want the full story, it will necessarily include words like fatal head-on collision.

I’m sorry it’s harsh. And ugly. I don’t like it either.

Fortunately, I have some other words in my vocabulary. Words like grace, mercy, love, comfort, compassion. Words that describe emotional gifts that others have offered.

Words that may have their earthly origins in Greek or Latin. But, more importantly, have their spiritual origin in God. God offers a vocabulary that supersedes the words we have to describe our earthly existence. He gives us words that provide healing for our human life and promises for our eternal one.

I don’t even have to memorize those vocabulary words. I just have to trust Him to speak them to my soul.

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Laura