F Words
One afternoon when I was multitasking as I was helping my daughter with math, she asked me, “Mom, what is 37 minus 23?” And at that precise moment, I clumsily slammed my funny bone on the corner of a counter. Out of my mouth shot, “Ow! Fuuuuh-” and I stopped myself. My son across the counter, asked, “Fuuuuh-ourteen?” We all chuckled.
I’m really honest with my kids about words. I tell them what they mean. We talk about picking good ones, and we talk about communication being only half what you deliver, and the other half being what the person receives. Early on in raising these fabulous people, they started repeating some swear words, some of which they had heard from me. So I made a homeschool lesson out of it. I wrote out all the common 4 letter words, explained what they actually mean, what they mean to the general public, and how they will likely be received if you choose to use them. It was a great lesson in etymology, the evolution of our language, and how culture affects our interpretations of meaning. And of course, later that day, my mother in-law asked my kids what they had learned in school that day, and they gleefully replied, “Mom taught us our swear words today!”
I really love words. And even more than that, I love names. One of my favorite stories in the Bible is when God brings the animals to Adam “to see what he would name them.” (Genesis 2:19) I think the authority of naming things is a gift given to us by God. And I think choosing good names matters. We’ve lived on our property for 8 years, and during that time, we have tossed around a variety of names for our homestead. We love to name things. Alex and I had our first two kids’ names picked out before we graduated from high school. We chose our first dog’s name while we still lived in an apartment that didn't allow pets. All our cars have had names. But for some reason, the land stumps us. In 8 years, we have experimented much with farming and had countless failures. I’ve tried on a lot of hats and discarded most of them. What I seem to be left with now are a bunch of F-words: farm, family, faith, fiber, fruit, and fostering.
Some people say that you shouldn’t name things you don’t want to get attached to. Especially in farming, it might not be a great idea to name an animal you intend to later kill and eat. At times I have seen the wisdom in this, and at other times, I have felt that names help us to own the story. Burying a pet with a name may cause you to have stronger feelings in your heart, but having names and good words with which to tell a story allows your heart to heal. Nameless hurts seem to never go away.
Recently we watched my husband’s truck, Bean Thief, be loaded onto the back of a tow truck to be hauled away to the junkyard. It was a sad moment, as we all remembered squeezing our whole family into that pickup truck and going fun places together. We all loved that truck. But saying, “Goodbye Bean Thief,” was a clean and uncomplicated sadness.
I used to try to control other people’s words. I used to tell my kids what not to say. I am learning now that not putting thoughts into words can just keep them stuck in your mind forever. So I try to help my children choose good words. I invite them to say what they feel and then ask them if there’s a way to say it that is more true, then ask if there are other things that are true that are more beautiful. I’m growing. I am a work in progress. I often just get overwhelmed by all the ugly words in my home, and point the shaming finger, shouting, “Can’t you hear yourself?” The truth is that, in that moment, I can’t hear myself.
One of the founding beliefs of our country is that we have the right to choose our own words. And social media has given everyone a platform from which to be heard. We all have a voice. And we are choosing our words during a season of pain and frustration. What names will we choose for the story we are living right now? Are there better words that are more true? Are there truths that are more beautiful?
