What to blog...
It takes me about ten minutes. Sitting quietly, listening to the trucks rumbling down on the street, hearing faint noises that tell me my children are indeed heading out to school. The images from the day before play through my head, a poorly edited mix of things banal and fascinating, and I start wondering what in the world my readers (both of you...hah!) might want or need or be interested to hear.
It takes about ten minutes to choose.
The internet is stunning, isn't it? The cyberscape imagistically noisy, as varied as a future global city, postmodernism in light and physical form. At a click, you can get eye and mind candy of any variety. It is a membrane of a kind, layered thinly onto the consciousness, shimmering at the slightest touch, annoying in the slightest delay. Now with news aggregators, such as I have as part of the Radio software package, I can get hourly updates on the whole world, seems like.
What for?
These beheadings haunt me. Yesterday, I kept thinking about Jack Hensley's family. Death is death, I know, and I have also spent time imagining the people of Iraq--citizens and militants faithful to both sides--or those in Southern Sudan, or those in South American cities caught in the street battles over drug trafficking (go on--pick your suffering), so as I thought of Hensley's family, it was not a nationalistic empathy I had for them. In fact, it is hard to name my feeling. But yesterday morning, if they'd slept at all, his wife and daughter (I think that's right) woke wondering whether their husband and father would die that day, and indeed, he did. I kept thinking about their inner calamity, their human spirits wailing, flailing away in grief, the grim process looking much the same the world over.
For them, and for the British family that sits and waits today (and of course, for the thousands of people around the world who sit and wait for news of their loved ones, lives endangered by war, disease, hate, or even the random accident they'll never see coming), the internet's membrane, (yes, the one that brought them the very news we're talking about) and the exciting changing of reality that comes with each and every click...it all must seem far away, a bit absurd, irrelevant.
Life, breath, the touch of loved ones, the deep deciding of what is true: in the end, we sit in the stuff of humanity together, needing so much to honor the mystery together, to acknowledge the profound in each other, the potential for love, the potential for transformation into the image of the Christ.
I often wonder what's worth blogging about. Honestly? I have no idea. But somehow, I'm finding it. It may not be clever or hip or cohesive, but I am coming to believe what's needed in the mix is a quiet. A quiet in which we might contemplate the true battleground.
Our heart.
7:55:43 AM 
|
|
