Becoming a blogger

Blog was the Merriam Webster word of the year in 2004. It was the word that no one knew at the beginning of the year, and everyone knew by the end of the year. Blogging has been mainstream - sort of - for four years now. Those of us that have been in it for awhile can forget how frightening and intimidating it is to be vulnerable enough to put your writing out there for the world to see.

L.L. Barkat has some thoughts and suggestions for new bloggers.

I remember what it was like to be a new blogger. The wide world before me. So much to say and so little ability to say it. Millions of blogs to make my way amongst. Zero comments, zero comments. Then, oh! A surprise comment from some really big blogger who kindly deigned to be the Welcome Wagon of the blogosphere. It was… intimidating.

Random Acts of Poetry: Public Display of Affection

L.L. here. With a true confession. I love poetry. Adore it. Wish that someone would read it to me by moonlight. (All right, fair enough. That’s not much of a confession. Most of you probably already suspected my passion for the poetic.)

Anyway, personal affection aside; I’m not here to talk about poetry in private. I’m here to discuss public displays of affection. Poetry in church, in classrooms, at presidential inaugurations, in newspapers and, heck, even on blog network front pages.

Why bother making space for poetry in public?

Former State poet Samuel Hazo observes that poetry “tells us who we are, what our surroundings mean to us and what waits to be discovered beneath the apparent.” He contrasts this to the language of economy (think terms like profit, loss, consumer, value, spend, sell, bottom-line, assets ); such language tends to become “the language of quantity, not quality– the language of abstraction and generality and not the language of felt thought.”

Talk this way too long, says Hazo, and we risk personal dullness or even large-scale inhumanity.

(Maybe that’s why God’s Word is so astonishingly poetic. After all, it seeks to tell us who we are, what the world means, what the mystery of the divine is beneath the surface of life and language. Plus, God is anything but dull or inhumane.)

So then. Let me speak with the tongue of poetry, in public, by quoting poetic blogger Lore of Just to Say. I happened to read this the same day I was gaping at pictures of Gaza on the front page of the New York Times. Lore’s poetic words helped me move past the abstractions and generalities, the large-scale pain, and inhabit the grief of this tragedy…

Today I fumble with excuses, mine, theirs, ours. They feel like gravel in my mouth and I repeat them, sure that repetition will make them more palatable.

We were not made for this, I finally land on. This, I know deep within me, is the only truthful excuse.

We were not made for this pain or this reminder. We were not built to be so resilient. We were not created to block these blows, holding out arms in defense. We were made for the shelter of wings and garden gates and fruit kept far away. We were made to endure pain like soldiers, but not for it….

We weren’t designed for this…

Read Lore’s full post here if you like. And don’t be shy about clapping or sighing. This is, after all, a public display of affection for poetry. Or, in her case, for poetic prose.

The Duck Contingent photos, by Ann Voskamp of Holy Experience. See the awesome original full-size photos here.

Greatest Sportsmanship Story of All Time

This story is so great that I don’t feel adequate for the task of introducing it. It is a story of unbelievable grace and mercy and love. You can’t miss this one. Stop whatever you are doing and read it.

They played the oddest game in high school football history last month down in Grapevine, Texas.

It was Grapevine Faith vs. Gainesville State School and everything about it was upside down. For instance, when Gainesville came out to take the field, the Faith fans made a 40-yard spirit line for them to run through.

Did you hear that? The other team’s fans? …READ MORE

Crossing the NICU Styx

Having had a child with some special needs - nothing too serious but I know the pain of worry - I was very touched by the work of an anonymous mother who has chosen to open her new blog with a touching and poignant post about her daughter. Get in on the ground floor with this blog. Her sister “gave her” the blog for Christmas. And she can write. Actually, it looks like both sisters can write.

Enjoy!

Five hours after my daughter was born into a comforting pool of warm water, strangers in scrubs came and arrested her. They carried her down into a world where life is in limbo. Her crimes were a broken heart and a narrow aorta. Her sentence would be long. Surely my sins were greater than hers…perhaps this was my punishment?

I followed her and found myself on the wrong bank of the river Styx, wandering lost, searching for the right coin to give Charon so that he would carry my baby back across to the Land of the Living.…Read More.

Christ the Intruder Is Welcome This Winter

Did the Son of God come to Earth on December 25? Was it more likely that he showed up on March 2, or August 15, or even November 10? Sure.

But right now, in the deep freeze paralyzing much of this country, this is perfect timing for a Savior’s birth. In a frozen corner of Iowa, Jim Schaap shares his thoughts of a welcome "intrusion" at Stuff in the Basement.

I have no idea if Jesus Christ was born in December 25. I’m not a biblical historian, and, quite frankly, I don’t care if he wasn’t. But this morning, in the pitch darkness of winter solstice, I’m thrilled just that somewhere along the line someone decided (maybe God, maybe man) that late December was the right time for a baby king who would be saviour. Because it is the right time. Read more …

2 Writing Opportunities from Network Blogs

Now that another year is in our rear view mirror, it’s a good time to do some reflection. That’s really what New Year’s Resolutions are about anyway. In order to make a resolution, you have to reflect on where you’ve been for a year. That reflection is just as valuable as the resolutions themselves, I think.

May I suggest a resolution for high calling bloggers in the next few weeks? Participate in one or both of these self-reflection writing projects from Robert Hruzek of Middle Zone Musings and David Rupert of Red Letter Believers .

Robert (and Santa Einstein) invite the network to join Blogapalooza 2008 :

…looking back at your archives, you’ll choose one post from every month you’ve been blogging in the year 2008 .

So how do you choose? Well, the question you have to ask yourself is, what was the most amazing, moving, profound, surprising, insane, whacky, or whatever thing you learned in the month of March? How about July? Anything in October?

David invites the network to join Taste and See :

Listen to the news or read the papers, and it hasn’t been such a hot 12 months on a number of fronts. But we know that our God isn’t one constrained by the latest economic or political news. He’s not one to wait till consumer confidence picks up. He’s the same today, yesterday and forever.

So, in what ways has God blessed you this year? Perhaps this year has been one of loss for you: a home, a job, or a loved one. How have you found blessings in your brokenness?

Alien or Alienated?

I read Judi Mayne’s article, "Show Faith Not Fear" , today over at FaithInTheWorkplace.com. She begins, "The book of Daniel is the story of four young men who find the power to stay true to themselves and to their God while living in an alien culture that opposes their faith."

This is a fine summary of Daniel’s time in Babylon, but I disagree with the parallel she makes between Daniel and contemporary Christians in America. "As believers," she writes, "we live in an ‘alien’ culture. Discrimination and ridicule from those who find our faith threatening should come as no surprise."

She’s right that we shouldn’t be surprised, but it isn’t because we live in an alien culture. We aren’t surrounded by "aliens"; rather, we have alienated those around us. The majority of persecution suffered by Christians in America comes from stinking at being Christians in America.

As David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons write in unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity…and Why It Matters , "The primary reason outsiders feel hostile toward Christians, and especially conservative Christians, is not because of any specific theological perspective. What they react negatively to is our ’swagger,’ how we go about things and the sense of self-importance we project. Outsiders say that Christians possess bark - and bite" (26).

If you’ve ever faced persecution on the job, was it because of alien, or alienated, co-workers?

Read the article here…

Random Acts of Poetry: Ache of Advent

L.L. here. Just a bare week before Christmas. And in this time of waiting (for presents to give and hugs to receive, for challah and honey and apple cake with calvados-and-cider sauce)… in these moments of not-yet, I think of the ache of Advent and of life in general.

I see the ache in this marvelous poem from Joelle, called Knitting, wherein she sits still, yet moves, caught in the struggle of existence. Be sure to drop by and read all of it, because I’m just going to share an excerpt…

Knitting

Madame LeFarge,
moi,
sits: still, but for the
metallic clink and flash of needles
merging mohair and alpaca
in a rainbow register–
a scarf to match the hemp and
recycled silk bag from Nepal,
a whim.

Knit three,
purl three,
epitome
of simplicity.

Madame Guillotine
effortlessly decapitates
a second of the past for every
stitch.
A moment of impatience, knit one.
A heartbeat of resentment, knit another.
Fear, knit again and cross the strand.
The week slips through
clumsy fingers.
Defensivesness, purl.
Regret, purl, purl.
Heads roll in neat succession,
raveling a prayer.

Knit three,
purl three.
Trinity,
flow in me…

I see the ache of Advent-waiting too, through the eyes of recent High Calling Blogs member Sweet Corn and Cairo, as she responds to the gift of a new blog created and named for her by a friend. Says Kim,

Sweet Corn and Cairo. Hmn.

I’ve been thinking about those two things all day (well, between counting money, and the next chapter of FLIPPED by WendelinVanDroanen, and smiles and frustrations, and a really cool photosynthesis lab).

My mouth watered when thinking of the long wait till the first appearance of those new ears of deliciousness wrapped in silky threads, waiting (it seems just) for me to devour.

And of that somewhat curious love of all things ancient, and buried, and Egyptian… and eventually just things old. Treasures waiting to be discovered. Claimed. Maybe even restored. Brought Home.

You can read the rest of her poetic post at My Advent Gift

And finally, I can’t help but see the parallels to Kim’s post over at Erica Hale’s, where she too seems to be caught in the ache of Advent in a desert setting. Here’s an excerpt of Oasis…

Oasis

I dream of
that sun-drenched land
of sand and pomegranates
the date palms,
the olive trees
bent and twisted with age…

As for me, I admit there’s something in the ache that I find satisfying. A sense of tension and wonder, an odd sorrow that is full, rich and hopeful. Truth be told, I’m in no hurry to leave Advent for Christmas. Though the apple cake is surely calling my name.

Wise gift giving

My wife and I have struggled for years to find ways to embrace our culture’s gift-giving tradition at Christmas without succumbing to our culture’s unhealthy emphasis on material possessions and out of control consumerism. We’ve tried a few things over the years. One year we took a family trip together instead of exchanging presents. We have an agreement with extended family that we don’t buy gifts for each other, but instead make an effort to gather at my parents’ home. Things like this help us keep a good perspective on the holiday season.

Marcus Goodyear and his wife have come up with a brilliant plan using the gifts of the wise men as a theme.

I love Christmas, but I don’t love the incessant focus on greed and gimme gimme. I’m not a complete humbug, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy giving gifts–and frankly, I enjoy getting them too.

But it’s easy to get distracted by the consumerism of Christmas and forget what it’s all about. I’m not suggesting we all launch one of those militant “Put Christ Back in Christmas” campaigns. If Christ gets removed from my family’s Christmas, I have no one to blame but myself.

At our house, each kid gets three gifts on the three days leading up to Christmas. (We always celebrate Christmas with one set of grandparents or the other.) Limiting the number of gifts helps us control our own impulse to buy nutty amounts of stuff for our kids. A good impulse in some ways, but one we need to keep in check. And that also happens to be the number of gifts the magi brought Jesus, so we give the kinds of gifts that Jesus received. …READ MORE

Human encounters

We count on people to act in expected ways. That’s how society works, right? You can talk to strangers a little bit, depending on what part of the country you’re in, but you’re not supposed to pour out your life story. You’re not supposed to cut in line. You don’t make eye contact in elevators. All those sort of things.

But on occasion someone breaks the rules. And it’s always a little bit strange and a little bit refreshing when they do. And sometimes you wonder if perhaps these are people sent by God.

Bradley Moore of Shrinking the Camel writes about just such an encounter.

Last week I took a train into New York City to attend a “Deal Making Conference.” I know, Ha Ha. Deal-making in the middle of a global depression, right? Trust me, there weren’t many deals getting done. All the same, thousands of men and women in their finest hand tailored suits eagerly descended upon an upper Manhattan hotel for two days, swarming in groups and in clusters, like bees pollinating a field of wild poppies.

When it was all over, I took a cab back to Penn Station to catch the train back to Philly. As I was waiting in the main station to find my track number, a young woman - a girl, really - appeared out of nowhere and stood in the spot next to me. She was probably in her early twenties, and looked very much like Gwen Stephanie, or a photo of Gwen Stephanie if she had been caught without make up on the cover of one of those tabloid magazines. She was almost pretty, I’d say. Her short bleached hair was pulled back very tight into an almost non-existent ponytail, and she was wearing jeans with a navy blue Pea-coat.
…Read More.

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