Pardon Me, Your Blog is NOT Showing

WordPress bloggers! You know that little square of your face that shows up whenever you like or comment on a post? It leads to your Gravatar profile.

I like to click those squares. I’m a voracious reader like you, and idly sifting the depths of WordPress is rarely disappointing. It’s also a good way to get yourself seen; that square is a tiny invitation saying “Hey, your stuff is epic, come check out my little corner and we can be epic together!” (Aren’t I corny this morning? So much Fanta!)

But there’s one problem.

Fellow bloggers, half your profiles don’t contain a link to your blog! There‘s no breadcrumb to follow back to your corner!

I was amongst these until this week. After clicking several squares and batting low for links, my slow brain thought to ask, “Hey, does my profile contain a link back to my blog”? I clicked my square, repressed an ambushed shudder at the weirdness of my full-res face, and looked down. No link. Garn. How many people have wanted to find me (for some strange reason) and couldn’t?

Now, I suppose if someone wanted bad enough to find my blog, they could use Google. But the rule of thumb with marketing or social media is, make it easy. We’re creatures of least resistance. Most people will just give up a task if it isn’t convenient.

So I took the following easy steps:

  1.  Click the profile link in the top right corner of your WordPress page (the one to the right of “Write”);
  2. Scroll down to the “Profile Links” section
  3. Click the “Add” button and then “Add WordPress Site”
  4. Check your blog and click “Add Sites”

Easy as that.

Maybe some of you have no blog at the moment, or just prefer to leave no trail. You’re probably also knowledgeable on good prices for bottled water and ammunition. But for those who would like more visitors, well, here’s your public service announcement. Hope it helps.

Have a good one. And stay off Facebook this weekend; it might help your blood pressure.

The 3 Ways Jesus Sifts Our Desires

siftThis one might lose me a few followers.

Desires. Dreams. Prayers. Goals.

Whatever you want to call them, they are fire to Christians – powerful, vital, destructive when handled wrong. We must be careful with desires these days. There is such bad teaching out there about God and desires, so much energy mischanneled into pursuing your dreams without a thought as to God’s dreams, that we must handle the subject gingerly.

My testimony involves the sanctification of my desires. I found over the years that viewing God as annoyed, threatened, or dismissive of my desires did not bring me closer to him. Of course, nor did clinging to them ahead of his will and love. Neither view is flattering to God, nor entirely Biblical.

Jesus ran into a lot of deep desires in the course of his ministry. Healing, justice, provision, greatness, life. His responses to these pleadings contain surprises for everyone. He granted some, denied some, but most importantly there seemed to be a sifting. He didn’t always heal/feed/deliver immediately; he’d ask a question first, or deny a desire flat-out, in order to get at the heart of the person. Whatever the desire, Jesus was determined to sanctify it, to make it holy.

Interestingly, his denials seem to undergo three distinct tests: faith, paradox, or eternity.

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I Didn’t Know What to Post Today, So Here’s an Awesome Video

Sometimes, we just need to worship.

Something brushes past me when I watch this – a chill, a whisper of God’s enormity, over the horizon and around each corner.

The universe bows.

I hope, in the midst of Monday’s renewed chaos and noise, that this will remind you of God’s infinite reach and beauty.

 

“Everything Beautiful in Its Time” – and Only Then

winterI’ll never forget that May snowstorm a few years ago.

It was only a couple inches, but with the snow sopping wet and everything in full bloom, the trees didn’t have the strength to withstand even that much. It looked like a hurricane had blown through. Branches littering the streets, trees sagging into yards and onto power lines…my mother, out for a walk, had a branch come crashing to the ground only feet away from her.

Things aren’t beautiful outside their time.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Or try the other side. Ever hoped guiltily for a winter that would dart unexpectedly out the door in February and leave us with an early spring? I have. A good friend once said that spring “feels hopeful.” Certainly more so than winter. I don’t enjoy the brownness of the earth in winter, the gray skies, the inability to smell anything. Some people feel more alive in the crispness of winter air, but not me. Winter is a season of dead. The long, dark nights offer depression, like I’m living on Mars. Give me one month of winter to snowboard and make Christmas look right, and then we can be done. Coming up at eleven: What my car thinks of winter – uncensored! (Why do I live in Montana again?)

And sometimes, spring indeed comes early. A sneaky glee springs within me in those years.

But it’s not beautiful outside its time.

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Hillary Can Only Persecute the Church. Trump Could Destroy Its Witness.

caricatureI’m sorry.

I don’t want this blog to become political. Every other post is about my journey to become more like Christ and share my discoveries. To that end, I solemnly swear that his will be my only Trump-related post this year.

But after last week, I had to say something.

I can’t pretend the following thoughts are my own, though the pieces were. What snapped my scattered thoughts together was an article by Erick Erickson of The Resurgent. His work was much more eloquent, but pack-a-lunch long, so if you want the cliffs’ notes from a blogger with a parallel journey, read on.

Throughout this election cycle, I’ve been disgusted by the choices laid before us. Most of you can relate. It’s the culmination of a political system designed to reward ambition and sectarianism. Yet I felt compelled, by both duty and my fellow man, to make a choice. And the refrain generally foisted upon me has been, “It’s your Christian duty to keep Hillary Clinton out of office. The church will not survive her. Vote for Donald Trump.”

Yet I seethed against this argument.

I admit, it seemed to have merit in one sense. I certainly will not vote for Hillary Clinton. I have to embolden that sentence before I get dismissed as a liberal plant. Hillary is not even in the same universe as trustworthy to be president, and her agenda, typical of the political left, carries the threat of eroding our religious freedom and heritage.

Yet my conscience fought against the idea of supporting Trump, because by doing so, I would be endorsing a track record that I do not see as any more Godly – quite the opposite, in fact. You can scroll to the bottom of this post for my concerns on Trump’s character – it goes beyond just “saying mean things”, or even the lewd revelations of last week – because I’d rather just get to my point right now.

Which was…how could I look an unbeliever in the eye, after endorsing this sort of man, and preach the gospel of Jesus Christ with any credibility?

I sat on my concerns for a long time. I stayed quiet as Trump pulled even with Hillary in the polls. The voice inside said, Don’t bother. You’ll be labeled one of those panicky rabble-rousers you’ve learned to avoid. Jesus wants you to be tranquil and gracious about things. Let it go.

And maybe I was overthinking things. Maybe I was being too young and idealistic. Maybe some of these sins were fabrications of the liberal media (doubtful). And…just maybe, that conversion that Trump allegedly experienced a few weeks ago, in the presence of several well-respected evangelical leaders, was genuine and would lead to a change in his ways.

Then, last week, three things happened.

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