Raiding the Inarticulate

Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion.

T. S. Eliot, The Four Quartets

The quote from Eliot expresses something of the way I feel about "The Fig Leaf." Though I can never say precisely what I want to say, I am content to be Moses instead of Aaron.

Writing has been a part of my life for years now, and I've tried on styles and philosophies like bad pen names. I'm amazed at how much of a chameleon I can be. I recall words spoken for effect—more style with less substance; I even recall words intended to turn black to white and vice versa. Surely the things that Scripture says about the tongue apply also to the pen or the laptop.

I am "shabby equipment," and yet I must remember that the Lord made me as I am to show that the surpassing power belongs to him and not to me. He chose what is foolish to shame the wise, what is weak to shame the strong. I once thought that my significance—no, my glory—would be exposed in dark and profound words and the distinctive thoughts behind them. But the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

The Michele that now writes will never "get the better" of her subject. This thing that I am learning (being taught) to say is eternal; the words that go forth, Lord willing, are used to magnify the Word. This is a new beginning, the investment of just a little talent. May the Master be pleased when he returns.

Lord, in the words that I speak, help me to always lift up "Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.”

"And so each venture is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate..."