Words are important, yet somehow never adequate. So, not to be morbid, but when someone writes your obituary, will they say you died, passed away or transitioned? Of course, they could also say something much more expressive, such as “God’s arms welcomed him,” or “He started his next adventure,” or “The final checkered flag was raised” (no lie, I saw that one once). We say things like, “He met Jesus at 8:27 a.m.,” or “She left this world to walk on streets of gold,” or “He soared into heaven.” Of course, we could also have said unclassy things, such as “He croaked,” or “She kicked the bucket,” or “They checked out,” or a variety of other transferences. Once the departed have been gone awhile, we speak our true thoughts, “Well, it’s not like she kept herself in shape or anything,” or “It’s not surprising, given her Mountain Dew habit.”

Lynn Jaynes

Emeritus Editor

Lynn Jaynes retired as an editor in 2023.

I’ve spent the last 10 years making a living with words. But, as I retire from the job of managing editor for Ag Proud – Idaho, I find words are not adequate to express my appreciation for you, the readers who have borne with me, invited me into your homes, read the stories and browsed the pages. And there are no words that convey my gratitude for agriculture and the ways it has blessed my life, provided a livelihood, educated and entertained me, fed me and allowed me a behind-the-fence look into farms, ranches, dairies and agribusinesses around the nation.

Words are really never adequate, not for the important things.

I received a catalog in the mail the other day that had probably 30 or 40 different nativity sets of all different shapes, sizes and nationalities to order for Christmas. Some were faceless, and some had exquisite detail. Most were really expensive. Then, I saw some children’s craft creche kits with popsicle sticks and felt, which looked super cheap to make. Yet, no matter how much it costs or how artistic the skill, I found myself wordless when I looked at any nativity and contemplated the meaning of the event. Why, at momentous times, do words fail? Why is our language so inadequate? I love the words of the old Christmas carols – they probably come as close as anything to express reverence – but still, when contemplating the birth and life of Christ, no words suffice.

The scriptures help with this conundrum with seven little words, “Be still, and know that I am God …” (Proverbs 46:10 KJV). Its reminder is to “just be quiet already” because words will never do justice to spiritually understood things.

So, as I retire, I won’t try to spin my words or make some flowery farewell. I’ll simply power down my computer and turn the lights off. And to you, I won’t say "Merry Christmas" (although I hope it is merry) or try to improve that sentiment with words. Instead, I leave you with the encouragement to make this Christmas not a holiday but a devotion to Him who created us and out of reverence to His life, which ultimately brings life after we’ve “started our next adventure.”

Just “Be still, and know that I am God.”