I’m sitting here on the bench in my foyer watching the kids outside play basketball and ride their bikes. I’ve been stewing over my Friday post, off and on, for the past three hours. I’ve looked at a dozen half-written posts, not confident enough in any of them, nor in myself to even finish one to post.
One of my favorite bloggers is D.J. Over at Thoughts From Paris. He writes a, mostly, humor blog about day-to-day stuff in his life (he’s the one that wrote about pooping his pants at age 26). Anyway, he has a knack for writing about everyday things, but making them entertaining and funny. So, after I finished banging my head against the wall over my post, I visited his blog to study his craft. To see how he does it: how he makes the everyday, entertaining.
So, I was surprised to find that he actually wrote on this very topic
(at least in part) today. He said his blog has always been about three things: humor, honesty, and vulnerability (and it is!) and he starts every post with two questions:
Do I have the courage today to write about what’s really going on?
What is really going on?
So, 1) I think I have the courage to write what’s really going on, especially knowing I can dump this post in the trash before hitting publish.
And 2) what’s really going on is my struggle with blogging and my role in it.
Almost daily, I battle with the time I invest in writing my posts. I mean, there are starving people all over the world, even hungry in my own county, and I’m sitting here writing letters to a naked Barbie doll
. Is this really the best use of my “free” time? It’s not like I’m saving lives or something. It’s not like I’m a missionary. It’s not like I’m writing about Jesus in every post, or even a tenth of the posts. Okay, maybe a tenth.
But at the same time a few people have told me that my writing is a gift. I love making people laugh. And I get excited thinking that the words I write can move people or cause some kind of positive reaction.
I’ve prayed about my writing. And I believe
that God wants me to do so
mething with it. But, God do you really want me composing letters to naked Barbie dolls or sharing about my addiction to SongPop?
I don’t know. But I love
I suppose that talking about my own crap can indeed make others feel better about their crap, or at least make them feel like they’re not alone sitting in their crap. I guess that’s where D.J’s advice for focusing on humor, honesty, and vulnerability comes in handy. Just honestly sharing my reallife with others can bring about good. It can comfort, support, and remind someone they’re not alone. I hope I’m doing this.