Curacious

Many years ago a university ran a contest.  The contestant had to recreate a new word for handicapped.  The idea behind this, I presumed, was to eliminate the negative perspective conjured up by such a word. I sat down to develop a new option and realized that words mean things.  If you have a word for something, it is what it is.  People looked at the word handicapped and saw hardship, struggle and difficulty.  Was it possible to create this new word and issue a positive point of view?  Or, would the new word soon reference the same old meaning?

In my line of work, I spent a considerable amount of time in downtown Minneapolis.  I saw many handicapped people take on situations I couldn't have imagined were possible, people traversing through snowy city sidewalks in their wheelchairs directed by their mouth, blind people maneuvering noisy city intersections using their ears to "see" a green light.  They were incredibly courageous!  They never expected a door to be opened, a conversation to be started or a problem to be solved for them.  But if such things occurred, they were nothing but gracious.

If I could create a word depicting the heart of the handicapped, perhaps I could change the meaning of what people thought.  Curacious!  That's the word!  Change handicapped to curacious.  People would think courageous and gracious, instead of hardship, struggle and difficulty.

No, I abandoned my idea and the contest.  It was not long after that handicapped was replaced by physically and mentally challenged.  Was that better?

Isn't that just like us?  Change a word and everything is better.  I thought that if I could change a word to depict the heart of a handicapped person, the perception would change.  Maybe it's not what we think about their heart that matters.  Maybe it's how we think with our heart that makes the difference.  What is my heart like?  How do I perceive people?  Maybe it really isn't the word at all.  It's the heart of the wordsmith.

The words I say: "Oh, what a nice house."
What I feel in my heart:  "Jerk, he always gets the breaks."

The words I say:  "Here, let me help you."
What I feel in my heart:  "What a loser, I have to do his job again."

The words I say:  "Here's a car for your Charity."
What I feel in my heart:  "Now I can get a deduction for more than this piece of junk is worth."

Do I just say things to get the vote, the promotion or the next gig? Do I feel I can't say what I mean?  Maybe I need to change what I mean so I can say what I feel.

Wicked?

I hope you realize by now, I have no answers.  I write with my struggles to cause thought not condemnation. 

A few things intersected with me today.  A verse, Psalms 12:8, singed me somewhat as I thought about a question I had been asked.  The question went something like this; How can I feel something is unfit for my children to watch or take part in and then participate and feel justified just because I am older?  Certainly there may be reasons and situations that may warrant such behavior but......when I turn eighteen , do only good thoughts exist?  As an adult, do I suddenly establish a virtuous filter, eliminating all corruption?  Am I warping my perspective with things that will tear at my character?  It seems that we "old" people have much trouble making good decisions...abuse, affairs, divorce, murder.....Does "oldness" bring us justification.....rationalization?  Here is Psalms 12:8,

     The wicked freely strut about when what is vile is honored among men.

Sometimes I feel too carefree in this freedom Christ sacrificed for.  His honor should not be trivialized because I twist His word to find permission to do what I know in my heart to be less then what he desires.