being honest about this blog

Forgive me for the essay that follows, but I think it’s really important for me to post it.

When I first started blogging, it was intended as an outlet for me to share my opinions on things (mostly Christianity).  I had a few regular followers which frequently commented on my posts, as I did on theirs.  I longed for a bigger audience while at the same time being grateful that it wasn’t any bigger. 

As any good blogger knows, one cannot merely write posts and refuse to become familiar with other bloggers.  I found one site that I could not get enough of.  It was written by an ingenious author who happened to be an English teacher at a high school somewhere in the US (forgive me-I know that’s rather broad).  His writing was captivating, thought-provoking, and extremely enjoyable to read.  The best thing about it was that it was about simple, unadorned, every day life.  It was the kind of stuff that actually drove me to approach how I blog with more attention to detail and less apathy.  Then, one day, he simply quit blogging.  I typed in the URL to find a bland page and a message that read: “I’m holding this space in case I need it in the future.  Go find a book to read.”  So ended the wonderful Adventures of Mr. K. 

My blog, however, continued despite my extreme disappointment in Mr. K.  Months passed by, as did my life.  I kept posting through my awkward teenage years & my less awkward courting years, through being engaged and newlywed, and now through experiencing motherhood first-hand.  Through all these years, it really hasn’t gained many readers.  Despite all my efforts to “jazz it up”, it has remained, simply, an outlet for me to write all that lies on my heart.  And I’m wondering if that is all it needs to be.

When I was in the midst of my pregnancy with Judah, I began to look for other blogs to sink my teeth into.  It turns out that there are a lot out there.  As I was sulking about Mr. K’s departure from the blogosphere, hundreds of other people picked up their keyboards and began to write many things well worth reading.  I was astonished by the amazing network of stay at home moms that is in existence, and has been for a couple years.  All of a sudden I felt like I might possibly be able to belong somewhere in the vast expanse of the internet.  

It’s a sad but true statement that I have been longing to belong all my life.  I’m too shy to start a conversation, and too proud to say anything that may lessen others’ opinions of me.  I see the people that I’d love to know, yet I feel powerless of actually getting to know them unless they first acknowledge me. I think I look up to people too much to be popular, but I’ve longed to be it all my life.  This whole blog network thing has made me feel like I’m in junior high all over again.  I want to fit in.  I want to be important to someone.  And, mistakingly, I thought the blogosphere was the place to do it.

Now I’m realizing that what I’ve really been missing is fellowship with people here and now.  I have a few friends, but none that I see on a regular basis.  Of course, I can’t minimize Joey’s role in my life.  He is my best friend--my constant companion.  We laugh together like I’ve never laughed with anyone in all my life.  He knows me inside and outside.  He and I are one.  That is irreplaceable.  He is, simply put, the biggest physical blessing I have ever and will ever receive, save the redemption of my body at the end of all things. But I am missing this sense of belonging.  My church, God bless them, seems to assume that I am a seasoned parishioner of their fellowship because my husband grew up in the community.  In this way, I’m surrounded by people, yet I feel so alone. 

I know it’s going to take effort on my part--and I’m not excusing myself.  I’ve realized that, as much as I love this blog and reading the wonderful works of all those different people on my sidebar, it is not my life.  It is not where I live day to day.  I have been neglecting what God has placed right in front of me by hoping that I can connect with people that I may never meet face to face.  I have used pregnancy and new motherhood as an excuse to isolate myself from the world.  It’s not healthy.  It’s not biblical.

This post really has a sorrowful tone to it.  But this has been plaguing me for a while.  There are some of you who read my blog that have made effort upon effort with me, and I thank you so much for your determination.  I may seem “mature” and “capable” on the outside, but, really, I’m the most immature person I know.  In fact, I’m the most sinful person I know.  Which is why Christ Jesus is all the more precious to me--because He is the perfection that I will never be.  

Admitting weaknesses of character like this is not necessarily a popular topic for blogging, but I don’t want my blog to be characterized by “fake” and “fluffy” Christianity.  I want depth in my walk with Christ.  I want to die to self, deep within, and never recover.    Christianity is knee deep, nitty-gritty, cross-bearing, self-sacrificing beauty.  I love the Lord Jesus with all my heart, and I will encounter pain because of it.  But I’m not worried, because He bore it all--times infinity--before me.