words

I can't take full credit for my previous post. The idea, including the orange analogy, came from a sermon I heard in college.
But it has stuck with me. And I think about it frequently.

Now, why is it that some words are "bad" but they don't really mean anything bad. The word I used simply means poo-poo. Why is it ok to say one, but not the other? Why is it ok to say bottom, but not a##, (which is my favorite "bad" word, by the way, but more in reference to a person's behavior)?
Why is it bad to say hell? Hell isn't sacred. I don't feel the need to show any respect for it. In fact it ought to be more acceptable to say that than to say "Oh heavens." If you think about it. Right?

Damning a person isn't nice. I can see why we shouldn't do that. But to just say the word because you hit your thumb? Why is that bad?

I'm not advocating that we all go out and start talking like sailors, because, for whatever reason, these words are considered inappropriate and I think we need to guard our mouths for the sake of others. I'm just sayin...

(Although, it seems to be more and more acceptable to say these things as time goes by. And I guess we can look at words we say now that at one time were taboo. As words lose their power to shock, people just come up with new "bad" words, anyway.)

So, the point of my last post wasn't even so much about the word as it was the attitude underlying it. I could act like I was all together, but when the pressure was on, my true attitude sprang forth. And I think that was even more apparant in the statement I made about God watching over us than It was in that one "bad" word.

what are you full of?

Once, several years ago, we got in a car accident. We did kinda like Bo and Luke Duke and took a flying leap into some grumpy guy's front yard. As we came to the end of the road, literally, and I saw a four foot embankment looming in front of our car, I said a not so nice word. Not the worst word. But not really the word that I want to utter in the moment of my death.

I was in a rough place in those days. In a new city where I wasn't feeling at home. Didn't have any friends yet. Not really engrafted into our church. Just lots of stuff going on. I'm not making excuses, just giving the facts.

I was praying, I do remember that, but I don't remember if I was in the Word or not.

Anyway, in general, I had a bad attitude.

Before we crashed into and jumped the embankment, we crossed a highway. Hubby said that the angels must have been watching over us because we could have easily been killed by an oncoming car. I said, "If the angels were watching over us this wouldn't have happened at all!" Grrr

If you squeeze an orange, what do you expect to get out of it?
If I've filled that orange with ink and you squeeze it, what do you think you'll get out of it? It still looks and smells like an orange. It still is an orange. But you get out whatever is in there. duh, I know.
So, my question is, what are you full of? What comes out of you when the sqeeze is on?