I’m still unsure what the story is that I’m supposed to be telling, but the drive to tell it has pushed my fingers onto this keyboard. There it is; I had one sentence to distract you while I stalled, attempting to find something to keep your attention, and it’s used up. Here goes nothin’.
I learned a new word this week: compurgator. Awkward looking thing isn’t it? You’ve said it in your head as you’ve read it, but now say it out loud: com-perg-uh-ter. It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. Just kind of bunches up and then spills out around the nooks and crannies of your mouth. Okay, okay, enough speech therapy. Compurgator: one who under oath vouches for the character or conduct of an accused person. How on earth did this pop into my life? Oh, I compurgated. Sounds gross, I know. I wasn’t in court, and I wasn’t under oath, but there were character reference letters written and there is still the possibility of being sworn in to tell everybody that I meant it. Don’t worry, the letter was much less rambly and much more interesting than this post is so far; I’m sure they’ll take me seriously the first go around.
At any rate, the experience made me pause a few times. I couldn’t help but think of that final compurgation, that last earnest and loving plea that comes from our Savior when we’re down to the wire. He has intimate knowledge of our mistakes, but he also knows the rest of our hearts; the good portion that hurts when we make those mistakes. When we can no longer speak for ourselves, Christ speaks on our behalf, tenderly pleading for our release from sin.
I found this tucked way way back, at the very beginning, at the very heart, of this blog. I thought it worth posting, to remind myself.
“All my life I’ve been concerned with what others wanted me to be, yet underneath, my Self was screaming in protest. I’m in my early twenties, that weird transitory period where I’ve been on my own for a while, but have yet to find my way. I realized that I am floating through time and space, a virtual lump, barely existing. I am trapped by my own lack of action. I would dip into the lives of others, admiring their gumption and dreaming about greener grass, thinking, “someday I’ll do that.” Well, someday is passing me by, and I feel like I can barely keep up with the pages of time flipping by…if I don’t stop this meaningless drifting my chapter will close and the story will go on without me. That being said, this blog is for me. I would love to be one of those inspirations with charmed lives and charmed words, but how can I do that without something to drive me? I have lost what drives me. This blog is a search for my Self, a place to keep all those things that make me feel alive. It feels good to feel alive. I have to live to feel alive, and this blog is about coming alive.”
More to come.
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“Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” — Judy Garland