It Has A Certain Ring To It

I like writing. For me, it’s relaxing. I think over an idea for a day or two or three and make a mental list of examples or supportive concepts which would dovetail into an interesting bit of insight into my own nature.

It’s a part of that watcher in me, I guess. I look at how I am feeling, what I am thinking, and I shift the pieces about until it makes something coherent, something which tells me something about myself, I write it out.

I like the patterns in writing. The pattern of sentence length is fun... writing long sentences when I want the reader to slow down, think a little. Short ones? Good for a little punch. Prompts the reader to speed up.

I try to be careful about word choice. It isn’t perfect, but it’s eclectic, and hopefully, accurate. Mark Twain said: “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” I know I’m thrilled when an author hits it just right.

My own style is a little odd, perhaps unique. In college I had a class in literature where a major portion of the final was a collection of twenty paragraphs taken from twenty different works by twenty different writers. We had to identify the authors based on the style of the passage from obscure works.

I break the rules of grammar all the time, for effect. I like throwing out words and phrases and expressions and idioms, and piling them on without commas and too many “ands” so the reader is left a little breathless at the list. And I like beginning sentences with the word “and” so it ties the current idea firmly to its predecessor. And sometimes I like to end a sentence with a preposition as a joke to myself, breaking a rule because I like the sound it ends on. I like creating a pregnant pause with ellipses... just for the mental breath it causes the reader to take.

But, just because something has a nice ring to it, does not mean it fits with the overall idea of the post. This is a journal. One that is perhaps a little too public, but there should be a point to each post, even if they are written primarily for myself.

People like things in threes, we think in three, we like to group things in threes. I will often have three points to each post. I especially like it when the points seem to be random, going off at 90 degree angles from each subject, and bringing it back together at the end. Just as we like to think of the past, present and future, tall, medium, and short, the good, the better, and the best, I like three subjects to wander about and drive them back together in a surprising fashion.

Perhaps we like threes because our physical dimensions are threefold. Or we sense the trinity of the universe and are drawn to that magic number. Or perhaps it is because our lives are made up of growing up, raising children, and watching them raise theirs.

I like the sound of that, it has a nice ring to it... raising my children and watching them raise theirs.

I’m in a strange place right now. My wife is out of my home, yet trying very hard to find a way to convince me to let her return. She has used all sorts of arguments, points of logic, and emotional leverage. But I have created a space around my children to protect them from this emotional upheaval, and I must be certain before I can let her come back.

I was ready for the divorce. I was surprised by the last minute plea for us to reconcile. And I wondered if it was what God would have me do.

“Will you love her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others, remain true to her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health until death do you part?"

I like the sound of that solemn question. It has a nice ring to it.

Those were the words that came to mind when Brenda asked me to take her back.

I was asked that question, and with all the power of a vow, the strongest of all possible promises, I said “I will.”

It does not matter she did not keep her side of the vow. A vow is a commitment a person makes, not a bargain. (Yes, yes, there is ample reason for me to feel freed from that vow, scriptural support.) I vowed. It was my vow, and I can set it aside only after very careful, methodical, and thorough consideration.

So, she asked to come back, and I was reminded of that solemn promise.

Brenda said she had made a mistake, she loved me, she wanted to grow old with me... I did not say “Too late.” I said “I will have to pray about it.”

And it seems to me, that though a divorce would let me stop this roller coaster ride, I will have to be patient. I will have to obey. I will have to continue to love, to comfort and to keep.

But I do not have to subject my children to the ride. We are keeping this quiet.

She has taken to wearing her wedding ring again. I wondered for a day or two before putting mine back on. Does it signify I believe we are committed to each other? Does it mean I have wimped out and caved? Does it mean I believe it will work this time?

No... The gold band around that finger, a never ending circle, really says no more than “This man is involved in a serious relationship and is committed to it to the extent that he is unavailable for any dalliances beyond friendship.”

So, I put it back on.

And it keeps falling off.

My weight loss this past year has made my fingers thin enough I find it slipping all the time. Interesting metaphor there.

But, regardless of the situation, I believe in marriage, strongly enough to cautiously watch my wife to see if she is sincere, and I wear the ring to show her I am willing to try.

I like marriage, what it stands for, the strength it lends individuals, families, and society. I like marriage because of the symbology found in its vows, its ceremonies, and its bit of jewelry on my finger.

Marriage.

It has a certain ring to it.