"Some Pig" "Terrific"
Charlotte painstakingly made an effort to change how people saw Wilbur.
I have been reading Charlotte's Webb to Isaac and Christian for the past few days. I've read it many times to our children, but this time, it struck me on a different level. Could a children's book really have that deep an impact on me? Yes.
I'm sure most of you are familiar with this classic book. A pig is born, it is a runt. Fern (daughter of farmer) can't believe daddy is going to kill the pig for being a runt, asks to take care of it. Father obliges. After a month, the pig must be sold, they agree that the pig will be sold to a relative down the street where Fern can visit. Wilbur (pig) doesn't like the barn at first, but eventually settles in. The other animals tell him he will be killed, he obviously doesn't want this..(yes, the animals can talk) He makes a friend, a spider named Charlotte who has a large vocabulary. He confides in Charlotte that he doesn't want to die. She promises Wilbur he WILL NOT DIE! Nobody knows how she will accomplish this promise.
One morning a farm hand walks into the barn with slops for the pig. He notices something odd in the web of the spider...he realizes words are written in that web. And they say
Some Pig
He is shocked. Ultimately Wilbur goes from being just a regular spring pig, to a pig who is beyond "pigness" He is somehow special, set apart from other pigs. He is referred to as a "unique, unusual, miraculous, solid, quite a pig, extra good..." In the end, his life is spared, and all of this because one tiny spider decided to bless a pig. Obviously this is fantasy, but it resonated in my heart.
Proverbs 18:21
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, And those who love it will eat its fruit.
Death and life are in the power of the tongue, And those who love it will eat its fruit.
There are so many more verses...so little time. (dinner time is nigh)
Why do I fall so short? Why can I not GET THIS IN MY HEAD.
Why do I judge (mainly my poor kids & husband...) Why do I fly off the handle and knit pick them? Why can't pleasant words fall from my mouth? Why is is just SO HARD?
My words can bring death- perhaps not physical, not like the pig- but in so many other ways that I can't even (or don't want to) wrap my mind around.
But- My words can bring life. Isn't that nice? A nice thought, I suppose- but I fear that my words very often do not bring about life.
I am not a failure, I am a sinner. And I do have grace, yes- but this grace is not my free ticket to sinful patterns. I Want to be a person whose words will bring sweetness to the soul, and health to the bones. Perhaps I am that person sometimes, but I want to be that person more often.
Charlotte convicted me, and I don't even care for spiders.
Me too!
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