I sometimes have problems with words. That troubles me. In a recent episode of Boston Legal (yes, I confess, I watch Boston Legal … I love to hear Shatner say “Denny Crane”), the character played by James Spader developed something called “word salad.” Generally associated with schizophrenics, “word salad” occurs for Spader when he becomes anxious … he speaks incoherently in a series of words that are all mixed-up. We laugh every time he goes into one of these spiels but he worries over what this means to his future. At one point he says something along the lines of “Words are all I have … if I lose them, I don’t have anything.” My occasional problems with words sometimes make me feel that way. I mean, yes, I have my faith, family, and friends so I am not losing "everything" without words but I do not have any particular talents or gifts other than, I think, my ability to string words together, and even that requires a lot of forethought for me.

I am certainly not good looking. I am no genius. I am anything but athletic. I have no hair on my head. I have plenty of hair on my back and all my nose hairs are turning white. I’m not particularly musical. I can’t act. I know nothing about philosophy, history, anthropology, or Achilles Tendons. When my words become a mish-mash or I cannot get them out quickly enough, I feel like I have lost everything. It seems to happen more and more often these days, especially when I am tired. I’d like to say be able to say that, when it happens, I reside in my heavenly father’s arms but, in reality, I get frustrated with myself, I feel very stupid, and I just want someone -- okay, ANYONE and EVERYONE -- to assure me that I am okay. I saw a guy on The American Invention show recently (I really don’t watch much television actually – honest!) who had invented this chubby all-blue doll he calls “My Therapy Buddy.” When you squeeze its back side, a soothing feminine voice says “Everything’s going to be alllllllriiiight.” When my words get mixed up, I need one of those dolls. Actually, you know what though, maybe not. God always tells me that I am okay. He's the one I care about. He gives me the assurance that His perfect plan is there. I do not really need everything to be “alright” today when I know that my Savior is there for me for eternity.

Now, I just need to remind myself of that the next time words just aren't coming quickly or smoothly enough for me.