It’s not God’s speed; it’s God speed or Godspeed depending on the dictionary.
Several years ago I heard someone say what I thought was, “God’s speed” and even though I’m not religious, I do believe in something bigger than myself.
I was drawn to the phrase and made it my own. I type it every time I discuss the military or people that are in harm’s way. I love the idea of God moving someone along, helping to quickly ease pain or sadness.
The phrase is so simple in my mind, sort of like the wind or holding hands. Be safe, God’s speed. Yes, exactly what I want to say.
Then I Googled it, and I wish I hadn’t.
First, I’ve been spelling it wrong all this time. Second, its meaning is nowhere near as fantastical as I’d imagined. Godspeed means, “good fortune or wishing someone luck on a journey.” The British definition at least mentions “safety and good fortune,” but it is still not what I have meant all this time.
What do I do now?
I could drop it altogether. There are plenty of other words or phrases. I could simply correct the spelling and keep using it. Wishing someone “good fortune” is nice. Perfectly nice, but not me.
I decided to sit with it for a while and see if the urge to offer someone Godspeed even surfaces again. I’d put the whole mess away last weekend, but this morning I realized something.
Words are only powerful because of the meaning we tie to them. The consensus on meaning and usage is what creates a dictionary.
God’s speed was my creation. I don’t need it to be in the dictionary. If it means something to me, why can’t I keep using it?
I can. Problem solved.
God’s speed stays. Now, if only we were left alone to define the word God for ourselves. That would be something.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Keep Still.