50+ Lifestyles

Just Saying…

By Q.C. Jones

Smote, Smite, Smitten, and then Some

I have always had a fascination with words, some I struggle to remember the exact time they floated past my ears and into my mind.  A few burn such a strong impression. I can recall the very first time I ever heard the sound uttered. For instance, I can still remember the first-time synergy came floating through my consciousness.

It was 1989, and I was seated in a high-brow sales meeting featuring some of the bigshot talking heads of the business.  Approximately 15 minutes after my coffee, one of these suits took the podium and ranted about the merger of technologies.  Through his presentation, he used “synergy” a total of six times.  After finally figuring out exactly what it meant, I made a mental note to incorporate the term into my vocabulary.  Somehow that unnamed bigwig must have been on the cutting edge of vocabulary.  By the middle 1990s, it was hard to read any publication without seeing “synergy” of this, that, or something else. I discontinued using it.

The word lingering in my mind of late came wafting through my ears at a much younger age. The message came to me by way of a powerful sermon delivered by our pastor. A short but powerful man, who possessed not only a booming voice but enough of rich Kentucky drawl, he could make the word ring and resonate. Bearing the Christian name of Luther, this preacher could turn a single syllable word into 30 seconds of pronounced happiness or terror. The way he pronounced this word sent shivers through my heart. The word: smote.

Smote appears in the Bible, King James Version, of course, 220 separate times.  A related word “smite” appears another 113 times and “smitten” appears 62 times. But nothing has the same tone as good old smote.  Allow me to give you a small sampling:

One hero wife of an Israeli leader took the battle with a tyrant leader into her own hands. The bad guy asked her for water, she gave him milk. He took a nap and she finished him off with some loose camping gear. Ouch.

Judges 4:21 – Then Jael Heber’s wife took a nail of the tent, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly unto him, and smote the nail into his temples, and fastened it into the ground: for he was fast asleep and weary. So, he died.

Everybody knows the story of tiny David and the Giant. It turns out David did not just kill this monster of a man.  He smote the heck out of him. As a boy, your pal QC was surprisingly good with a slingshot. I smote a few tin cans and one of my dad’s truck windows. Thankfully, I was only spanked not smote.

Samuel-1 17:49 – And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang [it], and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth.

Now we come to one that strikes close to home. It seems that God will periodically use weather conditions to create pain and suffering.

Exodus 9:25 – And the hail smote throughout all the land of Egypt all that [was] in the field, both man and beast; and the hail smote every herb of the field and brake every tree of the field.

What does all this have to do with the good ole Quad Cities? Plenty. During our time together last month I quoted this from some obscure Farmers Almanac, “The Almanac predicts 1-2 feet of snow during the second week of February” and they got it right. It seems like they failed to predict temperatures deep into the sub-zero range.

If this “ain’t smoting,” I’ll eat my cowboy hat feathery hat band and all.

Looking back on the past handful of months, one might imagine we have all ended up on God’s version of Santa’s naughty list. Or maybe, like that famous suburb of Sodom (AKA Gomorrah), we just caught a poorly aimed smote otherwise intended for Cedar Rapids. First it was Derecho of August, then a couple minor “smotations” (to coin a word), followed by this Granddaddy of a February. Either way, allow me to confess (and confession is good for the soul), I am sick and tired of winter and ready for March to head out like a lamb.

I want to go on record as stating, somewhere under all that February snow there is a layer of brown grass just waiting to spring back to life. Just under the surface of those smashed leaves lies a large supply of crabgrass and dandelion seeds.  Unlike March of 2020, this year I plan to smite the crabgrass and weeds before they take over my yard.

Finally, I am smitten with summer weather. Please God, deliver us from the Ground Hog’s shadow. Just saying…