I broke a rule the other day. It’s a silly rule, but one I follow religiously. It’s not against the law to break the rule, society’s laws anyway, but rules followed earnestly begin to feel like legalism or superstition.
I often write with a pen and paper. I know it’s old fashioned, but I still like it. I won’t use it for writing manuscripts anymore, but I usually still scratch out blogposts and songs like the ancients did.
Blogposts are written on yellow legal sized pads of paper. Considering writing a blogpost on white paper makes my eye twitch.
Songs are written in a small leather binder with white paper. Considering writing a song on yellow paper makes my other eye twitch.
I appreciate pens. The one I use for writing blogposts is chrome with black onyx stripped inlays running parallel with the shaft of the pen. It was a gift from my daughter. I never write with the cap slid over the back of the pen, it messes up the balance. Plus, that would be worse than stepping on sidewalk cracks.
The pen I use for song writing is chrome with polished brass accents, including the clip. These are hard and fast rules I go out of my way to follow.
Following rules like these seem pretty silly to a wise or sane person.
Some other rules in society, and especially in churches, really aren’t significantly different.
It’s not as bad as it used to be, but some of the legalism still hangs on like a monkey does a banana with his hand inside a cage.
I don’t even want to go into the list of traditions that have gotten passed off as Biblical doctrine. I’m scared I might roll my ankle stepping on toes.
It’s always a matter of the heart. And none of us can read the heart and soul of another… save God Himself.
I closed and clipped my leather binder and slid it back into my briefcase. Then I screwed the pen cap back onto the chrome and onyx body…
I was fairly shocked at the mishap or mistake. I know it makes no difference in my writing; it’s not the pen that deserves the praise, or the blame in most cases… It’s not the pen. It’s what what’s inside me that spills out onto a piece or paper, a computer screen, or into my daily life via my actions that communicates. The pen is just a vehicle, not so different than my truck.
This is my reminder to myself that following a rule doesn’t make me right – and especially not righteous.
There is no Truth in legalism or superstition.