Let's hang out together.

Four years ago this month, I went on a sabbatical from blogging. I told readers (the few I had) that I needed to do some other kinds of writing and "hiding out" for a while. The truth is I didn't know exactly what kind of "other" writing I needed to do or what exactly I was "hiding out" from. Turns out, I was on a deeply introspective journey about whether or not I should start a church from scratch, and I needed every last ounce of creative power at my disposal for that process and for the process of starting a church (which I did, two-and-a-half years ago).

Every week for the last 28 months, I've written sermons. Ten or so "iPad pages" of sermons each week--sermons that contain concepts and ideas with which I wrestle and tug into the shape of invitations I can offer my small congregation and anyone in in the podcast ether. These sermons are not about me, although of course, I draw upon my life, and occasionally share an anecdote or a painful experience to illustrate a point. But the point is, the sermons are not about me. They're about God drawing all of us into God's own life and about how we respond, celebrate, turn, worship, love in the midst of God-drawing-us.

But, I miss memoir. Essays. The revelation-on-the-page of the thought-life, constrained by structure and craft. Art in alternative-to-sermon form.

And so I'm picking up blogging again--about life, faith, relationships, parenting, beauty, books, anything and everything. (It's going to be a bit harder this time around: my children's lives are no longer endless sources of material for my reflection. I get away with nothing because, invariably, an unwitting soul will make a comment to them about something I've posted online (her new haircut, a holiday family picture!), and I'll be in the dog house.)

Also, do people read blogs anymore?

If they do, and you're one of them, I hope we'll hang out together here.