I wish I were more prolific

When I flip through my blog archives, I’m embarrassed at how much less prolific I am nowadays as compared to days before.  There was a time when I regularly met strangers who would come up to me and say, “Hey, I read your blog.  I like what you have to say.”  It’s not really that I miss the random encounters, but I miss … that sense of inquisitiveness and cockiness.  Yes, cockiness.

I find that I just am less prone to have much to say because I am just so unsure about so many things now.  All those experimental writings on community — have they really panned out?  All my attempts to approach a thoughtful theology — are they just ill-formed thoughts?  All my passionate outbursts about the necessity of the church in personal, societal, and political life — are they just nice thoughts that garner eprops but few experimenters?  Most of the time I sit in front of a blank entry wondering, “Is there something I missed along the way?” 

Mere musings, they are fun, but for the most part is no different than intellectual masturbation.  I don’t mean to save the world one blog at a time, but I do hope that my thoughts will have some redeemable quality.

Take my time here on earth
Let it glorify all that you are worth
For I am nothing without you

2 thoughts on “I wish I were more prolific”

  1. In the classical era of classical music, after the initial excitement of the motif being introduced in a sonata or what not, there tends to be a long period of labored development and arduous climbing before the motif reemerges with guns firing and rockets blazing. The good composers are the ones that take the motif the farthest, past the hump where others stop and call it a day. They arrive at the point of reannouncing it in sincere confidence because they took it past all the traps and dead ends, and it was proved worthy.Don’t stop whacking at it.

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