Introducing ING has become my editor’s nightmare.
“Kat,” she says to
me. “If you start sentences with an ING,
it’s all wrong.” (I think she said it’s a modifier with no subject. As I
recall, that is when she mentioned the dreaded words, participle gerund--that
is if I remember right.)
She smiled. I
figure this isn’t the end of the world.
“Dear lady,” she
adds, gesturing toward my manuscript, “I suggest you enroll at the local
community college. Now, back to your editing,” She sent me on my way without elaborating
further.
“Community
College?” I choke on the idea as I drive home.
That’s when I spy ING on my shoulder, challenging and
invigorating me in re-creating, and re-arranging my modifying phrases.
“Ah, ha,” I
exclaim. “ING and I are the best of
friends. After all, my days are filled with ING.”
Walking, cooking,
cleaning, dusting and bed making.
My work station
welcomes ING early each morning.
Answering the
phone, breaking with co-workers, and mastering the constant paper shuffling.
I wrestle with ING in the night.
Dreaming, snoring,
and yes, tossing and turning.
When I’m hurting, ING is right there.
Crying, caring,
comforting, and shoulder patting.
I found ING is musically talented. Singing,
fiddling, and harp strumming.
That’s when a horrifying
realization hits me. ING was present
in the Garden of Eden. Satan sat around crafting his tricking ways and then set
to tempting Eve.
Right away Adam
and Eve acquainted themselves with ING
by breaking God’s commandments.
Now some folk
think ING did the changing thing by
deciding to hang out with the best of people. Like good guy Noah building the Ark ; Samson by avoiding Delilah’s
nagging; and Job in his suffering.
What about the Old
Testament prophets? Jeremiah is known as the weeping prophet, and Nathan a
speaking prophet.
Don’t forget those
Proverbs, the ‘Sayings of the Wise’.
And Jesus,
anointing, healing, and preaching about the elements of living by trusting and
believing.
Paul used
admonishing techniques, encouraging us in keeping on keeping on.
I smile, thinking
about my Grandma Dee starting her day. She spent time praying, praising, and
memorizing scriptures, compelling many to do likewise.
Children are
enjoying ING with their laughing,
joking, pretending and game playing.
Embarrassingly
enough, even gossips are users of ING,
whispering, hurting, and destroying with shocking words.
Unfortunately,
Satan is still forcing ING into
family life. Maybe bullying is a better word? But then, he does his best at
sneaking in, destroying whole families with arguing, fuming, and sadly
divorcing. Yet there are some families embracing ING by resolving issues--kissing, hugging and making up.
It doesn’t
surprise us to know that the police are acquainted with ING. They find people carousing, maiming, killing, drinking and
driving.
My husband also
knows ING. Humoring me, accepting me,
teasing me, loving me, and yes romancing me over three weeks of vacationing
through twelve states.
Yet ING isn’t just a controlling co-dependent.
The good and the bad alike can go chumming with an effervescing, dazzling ING friend.
There are those
editing folks who are not appreciating ING’s
finer qualities, preferring ED instead.
Don’t get me
wrong, ED is a fine extension.
However, me, I’m
opting for Mother’s teachings. She spent hours instructing me “Be careful in choosing
your friends,” she would say, elaborating on not playing favorites and all
that.
Maybe I’m quoting Mother
out of context. I’m well known for blaming others for my silly quirking. Quirking?
Oh yes, I’m creating a new word for a special ending to my best friend ING.
Kat, Still Lionhearted©2002
