Cyber broom, anyone? Digital dust mop, maybe?
This tiny space of real estate on the web has lain fallow for nine months now. No brilliant or even banal ideas have been birthed here.
There should be a quiet plot where barren blogs go to rest.
The longer silence grows, the harder it is to find your voice again. Or maybe it’s a matter of finally mustering the maturity to know that life must have margins.
Daytime hours are devoted to the publishing company I’ve been fortunate enough to represent for the past seven years. (Seriously folks- they hired me at 54. And you don’t think I owe them my firstborn child for such outrageous grace?)
Evening hours for the past three years have been spent bent over books – thick tomes on theology, ethics, hermeneutics, the global Church. Saturdays were for researching papers, prepping for exams, being neighborly.
Only Shabbat remained sacred – beating down the door of both morning services at my church to drink deeply of worship, connect with family, serve in small ways.
But posts have been written, yes they have. Inscribed in my heart, trembling at my fingertips, percolating even now in my brain.
Stories of lessons learned and questions answered.
Personal discoveries and corporate mysteries.
Tales longing to be taught and questions waiting to be asked.
But first: a Commencement. How very American to view an ending as a beginning instead.
Ellen Goodman: “There’s a trick to the ‘graceful exit.’ It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, or a relationship is over — and let it go. It means leaving what’s over without denying its validity or importance to our lives. It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving up, rather than out.”
So. Yes. No exits yet – still working, studying, ministering– but entering, definitely. Moving up, not out.
In Israel they call it עֲלִיָּה aliyah, the act of going up. Progressing towards Jerusalem.
We leave on Sunday.
Join us, right here, for the journey?