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A little person came to me to report that another little person had said the “A” word.

I marched upstairs.

“Why would you say the ‘A’ word?” I griped.

The little person was already in tears. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I was so frustrated with him, and it just flew out of my mouth.” She burst into tears.



“Well,” I sat to console and hug her, “good things need to come out of your mouth. Do you understand?” She nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“Okay, let’s go apologize to your brother.”

We headed downstairs. In the kitchen, the brother who’d fallen prey to his sister’s sailor mouth was sitting on the counter eating an apple. She cleared her throat and he shot her a glare. “I…” she choked on the apology, “I am sorry I called you an armpit.”

Next talk: What Constitutes a Bad Word and the Variables Needed for Me Haul My Butt Upstairs.

Granted my sister’s kids think armpits are private parts…. Because they can have hair on them. They flash each other with their naked pits and then squeal at the lewd and licentious expedition.



So I guess, a bad word or raunchy body part can be interpreted by the one that receives the insult or…flashing.

Yesterday I got a rejection letter for an original article I wrote. 

In the days before the dreadful rejection, I got 3 pieces accepted by other syndicates and a letter from Huffington welcoming me to their publication.

But, I can’t stop thinking about the rejection.

I am left to believe I love a bad notice more than a good one. 

Last week my inbox was bombarded with praises for “An Open Letter to Mothers of JUST One.” Sweet letters came from mommas who struggled with infertility, miscarriages, and a wealth of other hurts.  They loved the letter, they thought it was funny and they appreciated the message.

But one momma accused me of being crass and encouraging violence.

Fair enough.

And still… I can’t stop thinking about the one email that was ugly instead of focusing on the 100+ that loved it. 

 Again, I am left to conclude: I love bad words.I am left to conclude- I love bad words.

Apparently, I love to focus on the negative.

I consider myself a positive person so why would I be someone that obsesses over the ick? Why am I wasting my time on something that makes me feel bad? 

Still, I woke at 3:00 am on the evening I received the scolding and couldn’t go back to sleep.  And currently, my hands are tingling and itching with the anxiety of the more recent rejection.

Obnoxious, and silly, but that is how I feel.  And therein lies the dilemma. Focusing on what is pure and good in the midst of the yuck.  I could argue that it is better to dwell on the shortcomings than the successes so not to get a big head. I don’t want to become a pompous windbag. However, in biblical terms to only focus on the bad is… well, bad.

So I am committing to letting go of my love of bad words. To focus on the lovely. To meditate day and night on things that bless instead of curse.

So I am committing to letting go of my love of bad words. To focus on the lovely. To meditate day and night on things that bless instead of curse. 1

And to those that scold and discourage me I will try to turn a blind ear, professing a Christ that is for me – so who could be against me?

If that doesn’t work?  Well, they can just kiss my armpit.

May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained. Love, Jami

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” Philippians 4:8


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