Cost: (n) the price paid to acquire, produce, accomplish, or maintain anything:

Every once in a while, when I get in a high-minded way, I start considering what I might share with God if He asked me where I thought there funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
could be improvements in the entire universal scheme.

Of course, when I get right down to specifics instead of just general bitching and put a piece of paper in front of me, I actually have very little to suggest—especially anything that would be tinted with consequence.

Yet I do think it might be beneficial if the entire Earth were similar to a department store. In other words, all the opportunities, temptations, doors, windows, possibilities and passing surprises would arrive before our eyes, with a price tag attached.

After all, that’s the nice thing about a department store. If you eyeball something you like, you can immediately forego an impetuous buy through gazing at the price tag and realizing that it’s just too much. Or, to your delight, you are overwhelmed to discover that it’s a bargain as you toss it into your cart and rush to the checkout counter.

Life doesn’t work that way. Life advertises, pushes, thrusts forward, teases, taunts—never forecasting or even giving a hint of what the price might be if you or I grabbed the item and made it our own.

In other words, if you’re obese and you went into a bakery and saw a twelve-inch apple cobbler, there could be a tag attached which would read, “Enjoy. It will cost you two weeks of living.”

That pack of cigarettes in the store that screams at the fifteen-year-old kid for attention because he saw someone smoking in a movie would have a little warning sign on the front of its logo, explaining, “Smoke ’em if you got ’em, but if you stay with ’em, you will die twenty years earlier than if you avoid ’em.”

Men and women who prance around looking for reasons to be unfaithful might be adorned with sandwich boards displaying words like, “Loser! Cranky! Really bitchy! Gonorrhea! Mentally unstable!” Or “Likes to hit women.”

No such cost is made available to us as we journey on, in a darkness of ignorance.

It is the reason that this simple author believes in the Spirit. Without that guidance from within, poking us in the ribs and telling us to either go forward or quickly step back, we are lions in the jungle without teeth.

Donate Button

Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News



dictionary with letter A

Array: (n) an impressive display or range of a particular type of thing.

He was my first child, which obviously made me a new dad.

I wanted to do everything right, but I wanted to go just a little beyond that so I could be considered by my son to be tremendous, but also noticed by the surrounding audience of humanity–that I was “Dad of the Year.”

So when he was about three years old I took him to the grocery store with me, toting him around, answering all of his little broken-English questions and finally arriving at the checkout counter, where much to my tickled soul, there was a huge array of candy bars.

Wanting to be the great benefactor and a father to be heralded for all time, I turned to my offspring son and said, “Take your time, but you can pick one of these to eat on the way home.”

It was so pleasing to my soul that I still tear up today as I remember his wide-eyed expression, gasp and reaching up with his little arms to hug my neck. Upon releasing his embrace, he turned to the candy–and a sick feeling sunk into the pit of my stomach as I realized, almost intuitively, that I had made a horrible decision.

First of all, the array of treats was much too large for his tiny mind to comprehend. Added to the dilemma was the fact that I had restricted him to one. So while the lady behind me in the checkout line tried to patiently wait, my three-year-old picked one candy bar after another and then changed his mind. Finally he came down to the five that he preferred.

Having the logic of a newly born human, he assumed I would revise my offer to include the entire array of his choices. In other words, Daddy, we’re gonna get all five, right??

I explained that he must narrow it down to one, but he did not understand the concept of “narrowing it down” nor the idea of “one.”

In a fit of despair, I grabbed one of his five choices and gave it to the checkout lady as he began to cry and whine for the four which had been abandoned.

Instead of being a blessing to my little kid, we spent the entire ride home with him screaming in tears, eating his chocolate bar as it melted on his face, which was hot with anger.

I don’t believe he ever remembered eating the sweet … and he certainly wasn’t very sweet in eating it.



Donate Button

Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix