(The following paragraphs are an explanation for the several weeks’ absence of entries at this site. Perhaps they’re also my confession about some older-adult self-examinations that you, too, might have faced.)
I’ll admit it: I’ve never liked the word “blog.” It’s always felt like another one of those 1990-ish terms that lacked heft but somehow made it into our lexicon. (You might also remember 1999’s bling, texting, carbon footprint, vaping, click bait or e-reader.) And blog’s awkward sound on the tongue? Something like “bog,” “hog,” “blob” or whatever? Its yuck factor has always bothered me….
An acknowledgment: Whether stubborn Luddite, prescient hermit or furtive eccentric, I’ve remained more aware of the negative aspects of current technologies than of their positive advantages. (Don’t get me started….)
An admission: Writing these entries has usually invited my writer’s’ demons to raise their voices, sending accusations and questions to collide with my sense of purpose. These fiends have been skilled at what they do: Dissuading me from putting pixels to screens or ink to paper.
The demons might be right to ask if/how these blogs are important within the larger scheme of things. We live in perilous times—and God invites us to use our talents and time to seek the greater good. That’s why I have been unsure whether writing these entries was as important as whatever else I could be doing—something that addressed critical needs or accomplished key outcomes. That question stays front-and-center: Am I flogging you with this blog fog? (You knew that sentence was coming, right?)
So, when ATT finally admitted that 70 million of us had been affected by widespread digital devilment, all these questions came together for me. The verbal ogres had all they needed to send me into a protracted period of silence. Not writing. Losing confidence. Seeing myself as hypocrite or time-waster. I essentially gave up on this work.
That’s not the end of this story. The near-catharsis of digging up spiritual soil and ridding it of weeds eventually took me in another direction, to another set of questions. I wondered what happens when any of us stops speaking out. When we think we’re “the only one who….” When we yield to the proposition that our core sins are unforgiveable. When we give away truth-telling to toadies, haters and attention grubbers. What then…?
Something else, never to be forgotten: What we have learned from the enduring example of the mentoring elders who came before us—the sturdy and lasting witness of older adults who never gave up!
Those of you who noticed the absence of these 300-word thought-capsules added one other mind-changing dimension: These entries sometimes help encourage your ministries, your identities, your insistences—not at a critical level, but perhaps with just enough spirit-juice to keep you going at this time in your life.
So, after wrestling with these matters, I’m returning to writing these entries. (And what else could they be called, hmmm?) Looking ahead, I want to sharpen the content focus of this continuing work, perhaps changing the frequency and length of postings.
Although this entry is NOT a blog, you can look for the writing to begin again. Thanks for your patience—wondering what-in-the-heck was happening AND reading this longish confession—and your continuing prayers for all of us who want to continue being part of God’s holy will for the world around us.
Fully so….
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