To humans belong the plans of the heart,<\/strong>
\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0but from the\u00a0Lord\u00a0comes the proper answer of the tongue.<\/strong><\/h2>\n2\u00a0<\/sup>All a person\u2019s ways seem pure to them,<\/strong>
\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0but motives are weighed\u00a0by the\u00a0Lord.<\/strong><\/h2>\n3\u00a0<\/sup>Commit to the\u00a0Lord\u00a0whatever you do,<\/strong>
\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and he will establish your plans.<\/strong><\/h2>\nThe first time I ever sent a text message, I was twenty, studying abroad, and standing on a cobbled street in St. Andrews, Scotland. It was drizzling, per usual and I was meeting up with friends at a pub\/pizzeria (because everything is a pub\/something). The text was along the lines of: \u201cWhere are you? Are we meeting on High Street or that place near the English quad? Someone text me back.\u201d Emojis didn\u2019t exist and I did not, and still won\u2019t, use acronyms. Was I mad? Sad? Confused? Knowing me, standing in the rain in my wrinkled parka, probably all of the above. But you just can\u2019t tell with a text and the nuances were lost on me back then.<\/p>\n
They still are.<\/p>\n
We all want our words and our actions to be interpreted correctly.<\/h1>\n
We want the meaning and the message to come through clearly like the old rabbit ear televisions that faded into color like a scene opening on stage. If we talk about a flat tire on the side of the road, we want everyone to picture the rutty jutting edge of the highway in the middle of nowhere and the kids screaming and laughing and banging on the windshield while the jack slips loosely in the gravel.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s the feeling of connection we seek above all else.<\/h1>\n
It\u2019s why marriage and any other relationship is so difficult. In every conversation there is a lapse between the words spoken and the words received and in that span anything could happen.<\/p>\n
\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0but motives are weighed\u00a0by the\u00a0Lord.<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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