But, really, what do I have to say? What do I have to write about?
I think the better question for me as a blogger is more what do I want to write about publically? What do I want to say, not just out loud on paper/screen, but to the person from Ho Chi Min City or Longwood, Fl who stopped by the blog this week.
I can't think about what matters in terms of writing without thinking about my purpose. What is the purpose of this blog, Pink Stone Days? What is the purpose of my blog? Here's what I said in an ealier post about the blog's name:
Though most days are mere pebbles from the rock pile, I thought I'd keep my Pink Stones in mind by giving my blog the name. Pink Stone Days are rare; exquisite days that make our forever-afters. They resonate beyond good, way beyond ordinary; they are the moments we cherish and wish we made more of when all seems lost.
Reading that description now I realize that I never really talked about my purpose. Why do I write here? I write in part to remember. I write to preserve pieces of my story for my family and friends, especially those that live elsewhere. I write to share: ordinary epiphanies and crystalline moments. In sharing I write to build community or at least the sense of it. The me-too feeling you get when experience is shared. I write to feel that I am not alone in this world. I write to record.
I named the blog Pink Stone Days because it has a deep personal meaning to me--a positive, pink, sunset with a glass of wine kind of feeling. I thought the name would focus me on the positive, on the pink stone, on the silver lining in every cloud, on the celebration. But sometimes it feels as if there is not much to celebrate, doesn't it?
It's been difficult to focus on the silver lining with all of the horror in the world. Did you read about the poor girl in north Florida? Her body found in a landfill? My friend's grand-daughter died unexpectedly last year --she was Collin's age. She died the day after Collin's birthday. I couldn't look at him without seeing Stephanie. I think of Stephie every night when I tuck Collin in--her family is in our prayers. A teacher colleague's son was killed in a car accident. The Bernie Madoff scandal, the economy, unemployment, health care--you name it and it's more serious or more important than any topic I could blog from my day to day.
So what do I do? Do I rant? Do I rave? Do I dish? Those don't fulfill my purpose, do they? Where's the silver lining for me?
This past week my pastor, Scott Abel, gave a rousing sermon about being transformed. We are transformed by our faith in Christ. Transformed by belief in God:
"Therefore, I urge you brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your
bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your
spiritual act of workshop. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of the
world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." Romans 12: 1-2
Pastor Abel railed. He said that if we were still worrying--worrying about what other people think, worry about our jobs, worrying about things "of the world" then we aren't the transformed faithful God calls us to be. We weren't putting our trust in God first. I get it. Barely. I feel the idea of getting it. I glimpse it--when I roll-over mid-dream and feel God in my mind. It's in there.
It's my silver lining, isn't it? I mean like everyday. No matter what. Period. As my friend likes to say for emphasis.
My faith in God is not my opiate, but my promise, my hope, my belief in the plan and something larger than myself. My faith keeps my eyes on the ultimate pink stone: eternity.
Today, that's what I need to hold onto. If I have eternity, there's time. If I have etenity then how am I free today to be who I really want to be? To say what I need to say? I need to embrace it. Celebrate it. If I have eternity, I can live differently. If I have eternity, I can work at being the person I want to be. I can make amends or I can walk the talk or I can give 100%.
Today, that's my silver lining. Eternity. What do you think about that Montclair, New Jersey?