I am sure God knew what God was doing when God created editors.

Surely. Right?

I mean, we can’t live in a world where people sit down and write sentences on a piece of paper (or a screen, as I am doing now) willy-nilly, with no apparent regard for syntax, grammar, redundancy, relevance, or style. 

Can we?

It is often a hard, thankless, and unappreciated job, but someone has to boldly stand up and be willing to say, “Are you really sure you want to use that verb tense there?”

I mean, without editors to point them out, how would any of us keep track of our mistakes?

To clarify; I never submit these blog posts to a second person to check over before hitting the “PUBLISH” button. But that doesn’t mean they are unedited. After carefully crafting that final sentence, I remove the hat with the word, “WRITER” there on the hatband and exchange it for the one marked “EDITOR.”

And then I go to town… red pencil in hand, hacking, slashing, and burning without remorse. (“AHEM, sir? Have you ever noticed that you almost always tend to create a list of THREE verbs, adjectives, or adverbs when you’re trying to make a point? Why not mix things up a little sometimes and use either more or fewer modifiers?”)

Editing is a discipline every writer I know submits themselves to. Some of you are even brave enough to send your darling children (i.e., the words on the page) to a total stranger for tutelage and correction. 

No matter what form it takes, I think we can all agree that EDITING is an essential part of the practice of writing. 

The challenge I have been dealing with lately is the challenge of knowing when (and where) to take the EDITOR hat off and just relax a bit.

This “rogue editing” practice of mine starts innocently enough. Watching the news at night, I catch a typo on the caption beneath the murder suspect’s mug shot. Gleefully I grab the TV remote, hit “PAUSE,” and point out the error to Joan. 

“Look at this, sweetie!” I triumphantly cry. “Doesn’t anyone proofread these things before they go on air?”

Score one for the bright boy.

But then it quickly starts to get out of hand. 

I try to be as polite as possible when I correct my son’s “there” (when he should have used “their”) on his text. I ask Joan if she maybe meant “continual” instead of “continuous” in that last sentence. 

Soon I find I am picking every grammar nit I can find, feeling every bit like a crusader on a holy mission. 

I am embarrassed to confess that this editing illness doesn’t end with language critiques. It starts creeping into every element of existence until I become The Most Annoying Man in the World! And to anyone who chooses to point out this character flaw to me, my answer is the same: “OK, I know it’s annoying, but what am I supposed to DO? Just stand back and let people be WRONG?”

Which is the exact moment when Jesus steps up and says, “Yep.” And then follows that up with, “For the judgment you give will be the judgment you get, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye but do not notice the log in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:2-3, NRSVU).

It isn’t as if we live in a world of monotone gray where “right” and “wrong” don’t exist. As Jesus himself so adeptly points out, judging – referring now to the judging of people, not their grammar – is ultimately not our job. It is God’s job and God’s alone.

OK. There is a lot more that could be said here, but that is probably a good place to stop. 

Got to leave enough time to go back and edit this…

Abundant blessings;