Spellbound

I have always had a gift for spelling – don’t know why, don’t know where it came from, but there ya go. Didn’t do the whole huge spelling bee thing butcept in fourth grade. I spelled down my elementary school, and came in fourth at the next level. In high school, I was in an honors English class all four years. Which means very little, except that I can’t diagram a sentence - we were doing “meaningful” things, like “litrachure” (read in a high brow, snotty tone) and writing our own books, and such. I do, however, have a certain comma thing that works pretty well for me. (Hang on; I really do have a point to this…!)

This ‘gift’ or whatever it is can be a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I am daily called upon to confirm spelling for people at work. A curse because I can’t see the forest for the trees.

If I’m asked to read something, I will begin with the best of intentions. I want to read what’s been written, I want to know the meaning behind the words, the heart of the writer. Unfortunately, the curse shows up, the red pen comes out (okay – not on the computer screen, people – it’s just a figure of speech!) and I lose the story because I’m too busy reading the words. You remember that scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off where they’re at the art museum and Cameron starts spacing out while looking at the pointillism picture? Yeah, that’s me.

I know that happens in my spiritual life, too. I get so caught up in the little things, that I miss the big things. Sometimes I’m too busy checking things off the list to realize the “why” behind the list’s existence. Same thing with singing - too worried about the technicalities of the music to hear the heart of the song.

Anyone else in this particular boat? How do we get out of it?