Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Tuesday's Blog on Blogging

Here continues my public reflections on the process of reflecting publicly. I'm settling into the rhythm of posting almost every day. I feel like the Israelites going out onto the desert sand every morning to find some manna. The thrill of seeing it the first few mornings probably wore off after a while. Then it became work.

Some must have been thinking, "God, if you're going to miraculously make manna appear, why can't you just make it appear in our cupboards?" It would be any harder for him, would it? And it would save us a lot of work! Evidently that's not God's style.

Blogging, then, becomes the metaphor for manna collection, which is the graphic reality of God's decision to work with us--not to work for us. And then again, the benefit of blogging is primarily for the blogger--not for the bloggee.

It's easy to read other people's interesting thoughts, good ideas, profound insights; but that rarely does much for you. Having to work through it yourself, putting your own hiney on the line--there's where the benefit lies (or is it lays... pretty sure it's lies).

Of course there's the continuing irony that if there weren't a few people out there actually reading the stuff, then it wouldn't really be blogging... it would just be keeping a diary. Thanks to the readers who keep us honest.


Rob said...

blogging = manna...interesting, but I like it!

I also agree that the most benefit comes to the writer and not to the readers, but yours and other's blogs have sparked new thoughts, discourses, and ideas in me, too.

entirelysimulated said...

Right. Is each entry, each insight good only for one day? Would your Tuesday entries be more like the quails? I will keep you honest by pushing the limits of the analogies (:

I started blogging from the assumption that I would be the only one reading my entries. Of course, I am flaterred one somebody else does. I am also worried of being misinterpreted and misunderstood. As such, I am always prepared to erase my digital self. And that to me is a very liberating thought, more like manna in the desert. This is transitory, I tell myself, more like pointing forward to the land where milk and honey flows.