Code-Switching

I have always been intrigued by the nuances of language, paying attention to little things most of my life. When I was growing up, I noticed something that I didn't know even had a name. I recognized that when my grandmother met someone new, her dialect changed. It was a slight change, and people who weren't familiar with her Southern dialect's regular rolls and lolls might not even have picked up on it. But I noticed that she did this even when speaking with my friends in elementary school. Her language became more formal. Her drawl wasn't as pronounced, and she didn't use as much country slang as she usually did. Grandmama was code-switching.

I do it, too. If I am on the phone with someone from outside the South, I try to speak more clearly and distinctly in hopes that they can understand me. Because let's be honest, some of them talk a lot faster than my brain can process. If I am with friends, my dialect is loud and proud and out there for all to hear. I combine words like whachadoin and jaeattaday, and I throw word endings to the wind.

I have even found myself ratcheting up the Southernness when talking with authority figures: police officers, politicians, people I need to help me with something. The best I can tell, my brain goes into disarmament mode. I find myself using additional terms of respect and unfurling my sentences into drawls that all sound like questions.

Another time I don't have control over my dialect code is when I am angry. Here's my confession. When I am mad, I sound like an offspring of Dolly Parton and Jerry Clower. My words grow extra syllables, and many of the letters that make up a word become mere suggestions as I munch them up and spit them out.

While some see code-switching as a sad commentary on the perceived necessity to fit in, I disagree. It's amazing that God gave our brains the ability to adapt and be pliable so that we can communicate in different ways. Our brains bob and weave without our even having to think about it. We change the unwritten agreed-upon codes in order to interact in a way that makes us comfortable and connected. And, when we are, communication comes easier.

What does our code sound like when we speak to God?

Is it reverent? Is it routine? Is it boring? Be comfortable in knowing that you can say anything to God. And you can say it in any way. There may be days that you talk to Him with clearly formed, measured words because that is how you feel. There may be days that you are talking with him as a friend. Don't be afraid to be casual. At other times, you may need to humble yourself about certain things or be angry because you're praying about injustice or even plain old hurt feelings.

Let's strive to be comfortable enough in prayer that we don't hold back with God, whatever the situation may be. He knows how we are feeling anyway. There is no need to code-switch. The blood of Jesus is our codebreaker. And because Jesus went to the cross for us, God will hear our prayers. We don't have to go through anyone else. Not only does God hear from us directly, but He loves hearing from us. And, He loves your accent!