P Is For Purpose

I once witnessed two people in the professional writing industry have a full-scale discussion with bbq dripping from their cheeks. Yeah…pros loving that grilled and sauced chicken, chewing with mouths wide open, discussing their latest writing/editing projects.

Eewwww. Normally, a quick comment with a bit of lunch in between the molars bothers me not, but bbq slipping between teeth and out the front door—no.

How could I concentrate? Am I a manners snob? I don’t think so, I mean I do the elbows-on-the-table move all the time, but let’s edit the meal, shall we?

But being unable to get passed a pet peeve born of pretension is oftentexture-1362879_1920 more annoying than the peeve itself. I’ve heard more than a few peeve experts say that if they see a sentence fragment or a typo on the first page of a book, they quit reading the story on principle. I’m not sure which principle they’re referring too, I’m mean one of my favorite books had messed up formatting in a few pages of the book (not due to author error), but the story was AwEsOme–and a skilled author can pull off a sentence fragment like it’s a work of art. Formatting blips forgiven. I say if the peeved aren’t reading for the story, what are they reading for (this is not to say that writers shouldn’t strive for excellence)? Jesus chose fisherman to teach the world, after all, he didn’t choose the teachers of the time…maybe because they focused on the rules rather than Jesus.

What a difference that would have made in their lives. That’s okay, though, we got a great world-changing story out of twelve unexperts, grammar errors and all.


What do you think? Where do you draw the line?


Note to storytellers: Do you have a great faith story? Consider submitting here.



The Magic of Words

I’m pretty sure the devil invented legalism, and suspect he’s behind many regulations of HOAs. “No, it doesn’t matter that you own your house, you can’t paint it blue. The house you slaved for isn’t about you, it’s about everyone else judging you.”

Or so it seems sometimes. Who decided that mud was a nice color for a housing development anyway?

Like I told you—it has to be the devil. Jealousy has inspired his influence. He didn’t get forgiven—we did. He can morph and change into any kind of beautiful shape—he can deceive countless numbers of people because of that, but us? We were made of mud (and offered an eternal home with The Sculptor Himself). That’s probably why he inspired someone to make mud the standard color of all southwestern houses. It’s his way of saying “in your face, mud-people.”

But pride gets everyone into trouble.

He’s done it with words too—even with the Christians. We can put violence into our books and movies, (mild) sensuality, conflicts of every kind. We can have fictional knights yielding otherworldly power from their swords, Nephilim dating humans, but there’s one word that many ban from the Christian scene.


I believe it’s because people automatically equate it with evil. But should we? Does the devil own this word?

I don’t know, to me, when someone “gives” a word to the devil, they’ve sacrificed to the wrong supernatural force. Become superstitious. And given Satan undeserved power.

Did we not add ain’t to the dictionary? We can command our words, friends!

We’re the stewards of God’s creation, not the slaves of Satan’s tricks, and correct me if I’m wrong, but most of us don’t speak devil.

I, for one, like the word magic. God is sovereign, and He’s done some pretty magical stuff, making that word most appropriate. So if you’re on the fence, let’s remember that God can work with anything thrown at Him. Even Joseph thought so when faced with the brothers who sold him into slavery:

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. Genesis 50:20

In a culture where fantasy is highly revered, the word magic can be used to save many lives. So be bold (drab is for conformity)!

Do you agree or disagree? Tell us in the comments.