(Note: I’m just ranting and railing against myself in this post. Not recommended reading, really, unless you’re feeling a need to rant and rail against me, too.)
I’m struggling with blogging, questioning more and more why I’m doing it. Everywhere I click, I see the blogs of the powerful, the influential, the profane, the apologists, the mommies in denim jumpers. I’m none of those things. I don’t seek power or influence with this blog. I hope I’m not profane. I’m not an apologist. And if I were a mommy, well, I’d never sport about in a denim jumper.
So in the beginning, I think, was the naive notion that I’d use this to work through some nagging spiritual issues. But then, paradoxically, I haven’t even allowed myself to write about them. I’ve been emotionally dishonest, cloaking my darker self beneath a blog ridiculously called “Worship Naked.” I want to be open, honest, but in truth, I’ve found that recent events in my life have made me hopelessly mistrustful of Christians. I’m petrified that if I shared anything that really weighs on my heart, I’d be judged and rejected. And I can’t take any more of that. I think, too, I’ve used this blog to try to feel like a human again. But that’s utterly stupid. This is cyberspace. Not a place to be truly “human.” That, I do already know.
Back in December I wrote:
Maybe I’ll take the chance and share here anyway. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe the thick facades were wrapped in keep us from growing and stretching as Christians. Or maybe … maybe they keep us cozy and protected in a cold, cruel world. And I do love being cozy. Maybe we don’t have to worship naked. Maybe we can just be partially nude.
That was several months ago and I haven’t budged. I’m raw. Words simply float about in my brain, half-formed and hazy. I’m just hiding behind the crap I’ve posted lately and, in so doing, I’m not living up to my stated purpose for this blog. Someone recently described this blog — to my face — as the blog “with all the quizzes.” That killed me. Maybe it’s true. I don’t know. But that’s not the sum total of all I am. (And if that was you, allow me to suggest, as nicely as I possibly can right now, that you start your own quiz-free blog.)
I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. I’m just frustrated with myself.
Arrrrgghhhh
(Well ….. I told you not to read it ….)
(UPDATE: Oh, drat. I meant to disable comments on this post, but dear ol’ M@ sneaked a lovely one in. I don’t want to seem that I’m seeking, uh, ego reinforcement here, ‘tho I do appreciate it! I’m having a tad bit of circumstantial depression, so I could use prayer most of all.)