It's a beautiful word. Rich with meaning and history.
A 17th century word, with it's roots driven deep in the French, and yet so much more.
When I come looking for Tikilene, and I call out her name, "Kilene?"
I hear her soft momma's voice from behind the porch, where she sits to do the laundry.
"Plait-il?" It has that familiar ring - mmmm-hhhmmm - but there's depth behind it.
It means most directly, "For your pleasure."
It's an indirect, formal, courteous word for, "If you please."
But then when the tone is spoken, the words lift and fall on the wave of the tongue, and the phrase takes on the rest of it's meaning,
"I've heard you, and I'm waiting for your instruction, for your pleasure."
Wow. It steals away my breath every time.
If we could only grasp this attitude with our Savior!
At the end of a long day, when He calls my name.
Better yet, at the start of my day, when I've got all my plans and to-do's, and then He calls for me.
Plait-il? Yes, Lord. I've heard you, and I'm awaiting your instruction, if only for your pleasure, and not my own...
But instead.....sigh. The droopy shoulders, the lead feet, the ruffled, creased brow. The questioning fool....
How often is my response as reprobate as the stomping foot of a spoiled brat, and yet from this same mouth comes praise with the words, "You are my king!"
Oh yes, Jesus! YOU are MY King.... so long as it's when I please...
hypocrisy is the bane of every Christian.
If only we could be rid of it once for all, and yet every day we must battle.
He died for me, on my worst day. When my sin is as ugly as spitting in His face. He died for me on that day. The cost!
The only words from my mouth should be in kindness and in thanks to my Intercessor.
Thank you Jesus.