Not much time for blogging recently, but my attention was drawn to the spikes on the timeline of how many people check out the blog from one hour to the next.
I made the immediate jump to last Monday as I stood by my Aunt Bev's unconscious body in a hospital in Madison. A beeper recorded every beat of her failing heart and a lot else which I didn't understand.
Spikes. Trends. Measuring a life, a heartbeat. Measuring the number of hits to this blog.
Being measured. I only really feel measured, judged, when doing a test, or competing with someone else.
My aunt's heart was being measured as she fought for life. My blog activity is being measured to try to inspire me to write more, network more, be more clever in the topics I choose or the key words I link to it.
What I don't often think about is how my life is being measured. Is it dipping right now, as I miss opportunities to help someone, to speak a word of encouragement, to offer some money or advice, to go out of my way, to swallow my fear and speak out about the love of Jesus? Or have i said or done something today which initiates a spike?
Inspired by the Word of God, empowered by the Spirit of God, called out by the voice of God, I intend to keep on going without thinking about whether or not I am trending on anything in heaven.
Just want my spiritual heart to keep beating out a rhythm of love which embraces everyone I meet today.
That will do me. God bless you.
A California girl from a hot beach city marries a country loon from the cold northeast of Scotland, and she's spent the last three decades making sense out of life there. Reflections on a rural lifestyle, on identity issues and the challenges of moving so far from home,from a Christian viewpoint.
Popular Posts
-
Temp at 8 am was 0C! (32F) Oh no. Harbinger of things to come. It is beautiful, but the apparent price to pay for a clear blue sky in t...
-
The follow-up to a busy time in the B&B is Mt Everest in the laundry basket, awaiting ironing. This is the real down side of runnin...
-
Another sunny day here. Walking along Seal Beach, I suddenly noticed a dad and his 2 year old boy. The dad was staggering along under the we...
-
Just back from my morning walk with Dusty. Same route most mornings. Down the path to the ‘fort’, though in the morning I am less incline...
-
Not much time for blogging recently, but my attention was drawn to the spikes on the timeline of how many people check out the blog from one...
-
Dusty and I diverted from our usual walk this morning. Having followed her nose to the ‘haunted house’, she then lost interest and wanted...
-
Moment by moment. Every moment is part of the journey. Journeys conjure many things. Trials perhaps. Weariness. Uncertainty. Fun. Laughter....
-
"...stood in tears amid the alien corn... " Love that line. Homesick Ruth, stood in tears amid the alien corn. Keats. Ode to a Ni...
-
Our plans this morning include a visit to a location which is for me, a thin place. I understand a thin place to be a geographical spot whe...
-
A small posy of sweet peas perfumes the air beside me. There is something near divine about the fragrance of sweet peas, and roses. A...
No comments:
Post a Comment