connection - fingers touchingWhy do I blog? Why do you read my blog? Read on...

Lis­ten­ing to a ser­mon by Tim Soots today car­ried me on a long train of thoughts. He talked about how we all buy things to reflect or enhance our iden­tity. See­ing some­one drive past in a new car often makes me want a newer set of wheels. Our old Corolla works fine — but oh, how much nicer it would be to have a newer [whatever].

I put some­one into a cat­e­gory by look­ing at the clothes they wear or the vehi­cle they drive. We all know that peo­ple are more than what we see. That lady dri­ving a pink VW Bee­tle with eye­lashes around the head­lights may shoot her Mag­num pis­tol very accu­rately. That lit­tle guy dri­ving a gigan­tic truck may need it to haul water heaters to remote moun­tain cabins.

Just as our pos­ses­sions are some­times glimpses into who we are, so are blogs. When you read a blog, you only get a small look at who the writer is. Even when you’ve been blog­ging as long as I have (more than eight years), blogs only show a small slice of who you are. My blog­ging friend Eliz­a­beth wrote about how adopt­ing chil­dren dras­ti­cally reduced what she could reveal online (http://blog NULL.eliz­a­beth­howard

Sim­i­larly, I am reluc­tant to share some of my more deeply-held beliefs, not because of fear, but rather because I want my read­ers to lis­ten to what I say. If I intensely delved into a sub­ject that is very close to their hearts, in the oppo­site direc­tion of their belief sys­tem, they might shut me out for­ever. I want to keep con­nec­tions open.

Why do you read this blog? I can’t answer that. But I can tell you why I read other blogs. I like to read words from peo­ple I find both real and inter­est­ing. I enjoy find­ing out what makes actual humans tick. Today, there are few such blogs any­more. Many peo­ple used to be writ­ing in that space, but count­less dropped out or went com­mer­cial. I’m sad.