Imagine with me for a moment that you are attempting to reconnect with an old friend. Maybe you’ve met up for a cup of coffee, or some other informal thing.
One glance across the table will tell you that the years have changed your friend; changed you both really. You smile awkwardly and make small talk, asking how they are or what’s been keeping them busy. You won’t get far into the conversation before you realize just how little you have in common anymore. This doesn’t change how happy you are to see their face, even if your smiles are wearier now.
This is an imperfect metaphor to describe how I feel about blogging, but it gets the main points across I think. It feels like an old friend that I don’t quite know what to do with now.
Blogging was one of my few saving graces during the hardest time of my life so far. Writing consistently gave me a sense of purpose and stability. Writing about physical, mental, and spiritual health gave me an outlet and a sense of control. It helped me process what I was going through in a way that seemed productive.
I wrote about what I knew from my bedroom while I was recovering from intense mental and physical struggles. Experientially, I was a professional at the pain, so it was what I was comfortable writing about.
Blogging served its purpose for me then. So I’ve been asking myself, what might be the purpose in blogging now?
I’m beyond grateful to anyone who saw value in my words. If you found any encouragement or hope in them, it is by the grace of God alone because honestly, I don’t even remember writing a lot of it.
Heck, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’d rather not write like I do.
However, I’m drawn back to the table where those two old friends are talking. The air between them feels different. Experiences and pain may have changed them, but their interaction is no less beautiful. There is purpose in their words, hope in their awkward laughter, and light in their eyes as they catch each other up on what they’ve missed.
Things are different now. But it’s OK. More than OK even. It’s beautiful and peaceful, even if it’s awkward.
I want to believe the same can be true for my tiny corner of the internet, even if it doesn’t look like a blog post every Friday or a self-published devotional.
To everyone who followed the blog this far, I hope you know how much your support has meant to me. I hope you’ll stay even if it looks a little different now. Believe it or not, I’m in no shortage of things to say, thoughts to organize, and opinions to ramble on about. I just want there to be a bigger purpose behind my words than cranking out a weekly post for the heck of it.
So friend, pull up a chair. Pour yourself some coffee. Get ready for some awkward small talk, reconnection, and reality. Because I still see purpose, beauty, and hope here.
What do you see?