Thinking About Foolishness and Fools

Months ago, I jotted down a few words about, well, fools. It was probably a foolish thing to do, likely motivated by my foolishly reading too much news. But here’s what I wrote.

“We all at times play the fool. Only a fool will install each of the bars of his own soul-cell by flaunting freedom for license, trading love for lust, parodying self-less patriotism with mindless populism, mocking virtue’s civility with soul-rot’s untamed tongue, confusing strong opinion with eternal truth, assuming that ear-shredding volume is more consequential than quiet, soul-stirring integrity, replacing strong spines with plastic and expecting a proliferation of courage, bartering with fool’s gold for cheap and fleeting results and expecting pure gold’s priceless permanence. The bars we build for ourselves go up, one by one, and we don’t even hear the click of the cell door behind us when it shuts.”

Okay, I suppose. Foolishness certainly does carry some very real consequences, and it is never in short supply. But I found myself seeking some wisdom from some of the Bible’s wisest words warning us about fools and foolishness. And that quickly led me to the Bible book of Proverbs, the sweet spot, in so many ways, of the “wisdom literature” of the Old Testament. Let me paraphrase a few verses. The “real ones” are better, and I’ll list the references, but what follows is my take. (Thanks to the folks at dailyverses.net for a handy listing of verses; if you want a really great—and fun—paraphrase, check out these verses in Eugene Peterson’s The Message).

“Spend time with people who are wise, and you’ll become wise, but run with fools, and you’ll end up bruised and bleeding” (see Proverbs 13:20).

“Those who are wise are quick to recognize and apply wisdom, but a fool chatters on, listening to no one, and is always crashing into brick walls with his mouth running” (see Proverbs 10:8).

“A wise person avoids arguments, but people who would rather fuss than breathe are certified fools” (see Proverbs 20:3).

“A fool is easily and often ticked off, but the wise know when it’s best to be deaf to insults” (see Proverbs 12:16).

“Fools never experience the priceless joy of learning from others because they bask in the counterfeit pleasure of loudly proclaiming their own opinions” (see Proverbs 18:2).

“The flapping lips of fools propel them into continual trouble, and their mouths full of nonsense are tempting targets for a therapeutic slap” (see Proverbs 18:6). 

“Those who honor God and follow him are on the path to wisdom, but fools worship themselves and reject even their Creator’s instruction” (see Proverbs 1:7).

And I think my personal favorite is this one: “Even fools who keep their mouths shut and stay silent may be mistaken for people who are wise and prudent” (see Proverbs 17:28).

Some patterns worth noticing begin to show themselves here, and I know how badly I need to take them to heart. It seems clear that the foolishness of fools is most often proven by an inability to control their own mouths and a self-destructive love of their own voices. And I suspect that one of the most foolish mistakes that any of us might make is to think of ourselves as being wise.

A little humility is for us all a big step in the direction of wisdom. And some silence is certainly wise. I need to be quiet now.

Text copyright 2024 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.

Flat Tires and Some Perspective

Flat tires. I don’t know anyone who enjoys them.

Does anyone enjoy the raucous rumble of tire rubber flapping against the road and your vehicle’s fender wells?

Do you relish the opportunity to make the suddenly crucial decision as to how long to glide your once-smooth-now-loudly-limping ride to a stop? You’re actually faced with more than a few decisions that could well be discussed a bit—but not when you have scant seconds to make them.

It’s clear that you’re stopping but how quickly and where? Safety needs to be paramount, so you want off the road far enough. Nobody enjoys the roar and rocking motion as other perfectly operating crafts fly by feet away in a blur of terrifying wake turbulence. But you don’t want off the road so far that you bury up to your bumpers in sand or mud or get lost in tumbleweeds. And you’d prefer not to destroy the tire or rim if such hasn’t already happened.

Some flat tire psychology, even PTSD, might be at work. Perhaps some of the multitude of feelings flowing along with your adrenaline-charged blood are due to previous experiences. Do you enjoy berating yourself, maybe yet again, for not conducting a serious inspection of your tire-changing equipment and its location and use? Didn’t you promise yourself last time… Maybe it really would have been a good idea some time ago to conduct a trial run in the relative comfort of your driveway, but who thinks that far ahead?

Maybe you now remember the specific gut-wrench that came from a long-ago flat tire experience when you finally had the spare tire on and, as you began lowering the vehicle while your stranded family watched, discovered that your fear was more than theoretical. The spare was headed to the ground. All the way. About as flat as the tire you’d taken off. Time for Plan B. And that was what exactly?

No, I can’t think of many lovely memories connected with flat tires and automotive marooning. But I do think of a lesson or two from it, and, not least, I find it pushing me toward some perspective.

Flat tires happen in this fallen world. Sometimes we drive in our lives into places and situations we surely would have been wiser to avoid. Sometimes we just pick up a nail. But living very long at all in this world should produce in anyone who has ever been stranded by trouble a tendency to be merciful toward others presently in trouble.

And perspective matters. Flat tire sorts of problems can be intensely frustrating, and yet most of us can quickly think of much more serious difficulties—even tragedies and suffering and trials so terrible and heartbreaking that we wonder how anyone could survive them.

Without making too much of life’s flat tire problems and much too little of life’s tragedies, it’s true to say that the Lord Jesus was being utterly realistic and covering an incredible range of “tribulation” when he warned his disciples, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33). That simple statement squares with the reality we see around us in this fallen world—from its annoyances to its heartbreak. 

But I think Christ’s is the perfect perspective when, after warning us to expect trouble in the territory, he continues, “But be of good cheer. I have overcome the world.”

If we think the Lord is making light of pain, we certainly don’t know the suffering Savior. And we’ve forgotten some very important nails and a cross.

Text copyright 2024 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.

Driftwood and Eyes That See

Driftwood.

One person’s trash is another person’s treasure. For my mother, driftwood was treasure. She was a country girl, born and raised in Coke County, Texas, and I remember that, even after she’d been grown and married and had long since left Coke County, she had a love affair with driftwood. At least, that’s what I always called it, and I think she did.

It’s quite possible we were using the term inaccurately. I just looked up a definition or a few. One dictionary says that driftwood is “wood drifted or floated by water.” Another describes driftwood as “wood that has been washed onto a shore or beach of a sea, lake, or river by the action of winds, tides or waves.”

The wood that Mom was on the lookout for was, to be more precise, generally pieces of mesquite, the kind of wood Coke County has in plenty. What the county doesn’t have a great deal of is water upon which such wood could “drift.” Seas and lakes and, thus, shores and beaches, are not in large supply. These days, especially, with rivers dammed or diverted upstream and the droughts that have oppressed a large part of the area, even the bodies of water that remain have barely remained. When a lake is estimated to be two percent full, I assume that means ninety-eight percent empty, and even if it manages after rare rains to ramp on up to eleven or twelve percent full, it can be a pretty good hike from the end of a little-used boat ramp to actual water. And managing to drown in what passes in West Texas for a river or creek may take some effort. And yet I’m sure that a once-in-a-blue-moon “gully washer” might fill up a creek enough to wash out some mesquite.

But most of the pieces of mesquite Mom considered treasures were just old pieces of broken down or “cleared” trees that ranchers in the area are happy to grub out, pull down, pile up, and be rid of. And that is where Mom had a valuable ally. My Granddaddy Key, her father, was a rancher in Coke County, raising and trucking cattle and sheep. Granddaddy had plenty of occasion to run across exactly the kind of treasure Mom was after.

I remember, as a boy growing up in Amarillo, Texas, the wonderful times when Granddaddy and Grandmother would come to visit. In the back of his pickup bed (a place my younger brother and I loved to climb around in as we became cowboys, Indians, or various brands of soldiers) was almost always a load of mesquite wood pieces.

For a good many years, Mom would take those pieces of wood, pick out the best ones, clean them up, drill through them in the right places, and thread in the wiring, “lamp pipe,” and sockets. She would apply varnish, affix some artificial greenery and/or flowers, install a bulb or a few and an in-line switch, and add a lampshade if such was called for. That piece of “driftwood” mesquite was transformed into quite an ornate table lamp, television lamp, or night light. Mom was creative enough to work with a wide range of sizes. I can only imagine how many folks received these sweet craft pieces as completely unique gifts. For Mom, and for my grandfather, I’m sure, the whole process was a pleasure.

Handcrafted. The word itself says a lot. And a large part of the wonder of such a creation is that it is often made of the most common materials. What is uncommon is the eye that sees the beauty residing in the “ordinary.” You can’t get more ordinary than a mesquite tree. Ah, but Mom saw the beauty.

Eyes to see beauty. Eyes to see potential that many might look right past. How thankful we should be for parents, friends, teachers, and all of those who have seen in you and me something worth cultivating and encouraging, something precious and beautiful that might remain dormant were it not for eyes of wisdom and love.

Don’t doubt for a moment that our God sees us with such eyes. All of the time.

Copyright 2024 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.

Of the Counting of Many Words

No surprise, I enjoy words. I am amazed that, in the English language equipped with an alphabet of 26 letters, those letters can be combined to create hundreds of thousands of words. And that brings up an interesting topic.

If you have some time on your hands and are interested in doing just a very little bit of easy research (as in, internet search research), you’ll probably find the number of words in the English language variously estimated at being anywhere from a bit under 200,000 words to over one million.

I wasn’t surprised to find an incredibly wide range of estimates, but I was quite surprised to see in a few different articles an exact figure: 171,476 words. Not 171,475. Or 171,477.

Ah, but then that minor mystery was solved. In an article on the Word Counter website, Allison Dexter writes, “The Second Edition of the 20-volume Oxford English Dictionary contains full entries for 171,476 words in current use (and 47,156 obsolete words).” Bingo! Citing the venerable OED is bringing in a pretty big gun. But Dexter wisely notes that those numbers do not include “slang and jargon” which significantly increase the total. Word-counters are wise to seek wiggle room.

Of course, any person or organization undertaking this subject will be quick to point out that new words or combinations of words are being created all of the time, and not just a few words start out in another language and make their way straight into English usage. They count, too. Fancy an enchilada? The fact that the language is able to change and grow is an amazing strength. It is also one of many good reasons that no one will ever be able to nail down a specific number of words in the language. I suppose, too, that a word-counter would need a rule about how many forms of a particular word should be counted as their own separate words. No wonder this counting task is well nigh impossible.

Now, Pet Peeve Alert! I do wish that folks would slow down a bit in the process of trying to turn every noun in the language into a verb. Just because it’s often easy to do doesn’t mean it should always be done. If you enjoy such discussion, do an internet search on “verbing.” The word is an interesting example of the very phenomenon it describes. In your search (and you might include “verbifying” or “verbification”) you’ll quickly find that folks who care about these things have some strong opinions. I can envision a fight breaking out over such in a bar frequented by English majors.

For my part, I’ve largely made peace with “contact” as a verb. Even “impact.” I only cringe slightly now when someone talks about “gifting” or “regifting” a gift. And I admit to chuckling when I recently read of someone describing an elderly person as “turtling” down the hall. No turtles were harmed in the verbing.

By the way, it’s never bothered me at all that we “salt” our eggs or “butter” our bread or “table” a motion. Those nouns have been so successfully “verbified” ages ago that we no longer even notice. (I’m embarrassed that I needed someone else to point out those examples.) We “google” things all of the time now, and the language remains healthy.

So, yes, I guess I can be magnanimous enough to make allowances for lots of word-morphing in moderation, in good taste (some nouns really do turn into monsters as verbs), and when it’s done to accomplish the desired effect in one’s wordsmithing.

If you choose to start counting English words, let me know if you plan to count “salt” as a noun and “salt” as a verb as one word or two. And, if you come up with a word total for the whole language, I’d like to know. In the meantime, I’m quite content with this statement from the Merriam-Webster website: “There is no exact count of the number of words in English.”

For my part, I’m a lot more worried about word quality than word quantity. And I close these rambling thoughts with words easy to count but filled with meaning and mystery the whole universe cannot contain: “In the beginning was the Word…” (John 1:1).

Copyright 2024 by Curtis K. Shelburne. Permission to copy without altering text or for monetary gain is hereby granted subject to inclusion of this copyright notice.