Thou Art

When students arrived for my creative writing course’s first meeting, they read this 38-word message on the board: “The first thing you must learn to do is to be able to write tight. Then, and only then, after you have learned to write tight can you ever hope to be able to learn to write right.” After analyzing the message, they took a test requiring them to rewrite the message, using nothing more than a dash, an exclamation point — and four words.

The test’s purpose was to demonstrate one of the course’s primary goals: learning to write so that every word tells, an exercise that improves the delivery of compositions’ essential meaning efficiently and effectively. Once this skill is mastered, students are better equipped to produce successful creative writing pieces of any length. Learning to make every word count maximizes one’s ability to articulate — to paint with words, which Mark Twain alluded to when he said, “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug.” After the test left students stumped, as I knew it would, I supplied the answer: “Write tight — write right!” To further emphasize that creative writing demands maximum economy and effectiveness of words, the students and I studied the ultimate distillation of language: poetry. Great poems survive the test of time because every word in them must not only contribute to the work’s meaning, but also to its musical aspects, including rhythm and meter. While discussing “Anyone Lived In A Pretty How Town,” by American poet E. E. Cummings, I pointed out that this beautiful little poem delivers perfectly the message of eternal love between a man and a woman, by distilling it to a mere 233 words, and does so as well as a novel containing 233,000 words. “Is this your favorite poem?” a student once asked. I answered that the Twenty-Third Psalm is my favorite because, whenever I need comfort, courage, and reassurance, no piece of writing provides them better. Later, I asked myself, why does this psalm provide comfort, courage, and reassurance? Is it because, as stated in its first verse, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want?” Partly, yes, but not completely. After more thought, I realized the answer is found in verse four:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil … Thou art with me….”

Just knowing God is with me and that I need not fear … isn’t that the answer? I wasn’t totally satisfied, but still certain that the answer was in verse four. After all, what else does God’s children need, more than knowing that their Father is with them? “Thou art with me….” Those four words kept surfacing in my mind. Then, as I had instructed my students to do, I reduced the words to the least number needed to deliver the essential meaning, the only meaning any follower of Jesus needs: Thou art.