I have a blog. I write some of my most real and intimate thoughts down here. I edit yes, but not a lot, not the heart of the matters. If you want to know me, know me well, know what is really going on in my head you can read my blog and have a good idea. Such a good idea that one friend texted me last week to check in because she could tell by what I was writing that I needed prayer, more than usual.
I write down my thoughts. I give access into my inner life. Yet there are people I love that do not read my blog. Or not regularly. I have a lot of friends that just don't read blogs. Or just don't read my blog. And while I try not to take it personally there is a small, okay maybe a bigger part than I like to admit, that actually is hurt by this. Hurt that the people I love, who claim to love me, don't want to read my words.
And then I look in my notebook where I am jotting down different verses or phrases that have struck me from my reading of Isaiah and realize there are whole weeks without so much as a date written down. Days go by when I don't sit down and open God's words to me.
I claim to love him - God. I claim to want to know him better and yet I don't read his words to me. I have. I have read every word in the Bible. But once is not enough. Sometimes is not enough. Because my life changes, my struggles change, my relationships change, and his words become new to me again. Different passages stand out. I relate to the characters in the story differently. I need to breathe in different words this time.
Yet again, I am part of the problem.