Despite the prodding of husband and friends I have avoided the blog-o-sphere for some years now. Who has time to blog when nursing babies, writing a dissertation, raising kids, investing in community, serving at church, teaching courses, putting food on the table, clearing it off, and starting all over again? I figured I’d better get exercise into my life again before taking up blogging…
But there were other reasons, too. Reasons I’d rather not mention…
Fear.
Fear of mediocrity—perfectionists are never satisfied with their work. Why put half-formed ideas out for all to see?!?
Fear of pride—who am I that I think I have something to say to the world?
Fear of criticism—it’s easier to present ideas to a small academic audience of ten, especially when half of them are there because they know and like you.
Fear of falsehood—of the artificial me that I will be tempted to create.
How do I introduce myself to you who may never sit with me at my kitchen table—the one in the nook overlooking the river, that brackish, muddy river that swells and fails twice a day, unfailingly? What images should I project before you who may never walk with me to the park at the end of the street to help me push my girls on the swings and hear me yell at them when my patience wears thin, yet again? What pithy phrases can I craft for you with whom I may never pray, or cry, or laugh, or challenge to a game of bananagrams? How can I show you hospitality without coffee, clean sheets, and a hot meal?
I don’t know yet… but I will try to share with you what little of myself is able to transcend these worn keys because I believe there is grace even here, grace enough to cover all my fears, grace that reaches though you to me, through me to you, holds us up, and helps me take myself a little less seriously.
Grace and peace to you,
Megan