Earlier this week, a dear friend posted on my Facebook wall the following statement, "only 1 thing -- oct?" My reply was, "Hm?"
That's right, it's been so long since I have written here, what was going to be a fairly regular blog, that I had no idea what she was talking about. It was almost like I had forgotten that I even had a blog. I certainly didn't remember what the name of it was. This is one of the purposes of community, to remind us of the goals we set for ourselves. Sometimes that's the only chance we have of succeeding at all.
Of course, I shouldn't be surprised that I failed to follow through on the whole blogging thing. In my basement, on top of one of my bookshelves, there is a group of journals about a foot and a half wide, held upright by bookends, each one equally void of completion. It's only by my consumeristic drive that there are so many of them. If I was smart, I'd keep a journal until I was finished with it, and then only buy another after I had finished the first.
If that was the way I had done it, I'd probably only have one journal. Even if all the wonderful entries had been combined from all the different journals, I'd only have enough for the first third of a decent sized journal. Or at least that would have been the case until recently. I've just finished filling up my first whole journal. It's a black Moleskine, unlined, that I keep with me at all times and fill with various musings, prayers, drawings (like the sketch of the sweet tattoo I'm thinking of getting), and wedding and funeral services. I don't remember when I bought it, but I do know that it has been well used - it's coming apart at the seams. I don't intend to brag about finishing the journal, but it has taught me something about myself that applies to this blog as well.
I have learned that I like new journals because they are unburdened by the failure of the past entries in old journals. Let me explain. When I make a journal entry (or most any entry), I put the date in a box at the top. It seems as good a way to do it as any to me. The trouble is, when weeks or months go by between posts, I feel like a failure. Like I've let myself down once again. So, the easiest solution, much easier than facing my own inability to stick with such a venture, is to buy a new journal so I can get it right the next time.
That's not how life works, fortunately. If we could trade out our perceived failures for "fresh starts," we'd never get very far. Now I know we've all been told that Jesus wants to give you a fresh start, but I don't think that's really it. When he saves a woman from adultery or a gives a man born blind his sight, he doesn't negate with his action who they were before.
Instead, he embraces it.
Jesus offers hope, but it's not a clean neat fresh start. It's a hand up to get going again.
It's that we take that hand that is important. So long as we stay on the ground, or refuse to face the reality of our own inability to be consistent (I'm assuming my problems are normative, right?), we will refuse to move forward into grace and instead seek the magic bullet of a "fresh start" in order to avoid learning from our past perceived mistakes.
So, I'm taking that hand. This time it was offered to me by the words of a friend wondering why I hadn't posted to this blog in so long. And I'll try to make it a little further on my feet this next time. But when I fall down, I won't start over. I'll just get back up - one stumbling step at a time.
