you know, this whole blog thing is kinda funny. i write every here and there, sometimes out of desire, other times out of obligation. i'm not really sure who's obligating me...maybe it's just me. maybe it's that part of me that's wants to be part of something, that wants to fit in or draw some attention. maybe i just want to know that someone out there is reading, listening. it's always nice to know someone listens to you.

a friend of mine tells me i'm a pretty decent writer. i can't really say if he's right or not, but it'd be thrilling if i am. it's kind of like that feeling you may have had when you were a kid playing tee ball or something. i played tee ball so that makes sense to me. if you've ever seen a tee ball game before, it's pretty hilarious. a bunch of 6 year olds picking dandelions and humming songs or picking their noses while one little freckly kid takes like 47 swings at a ball. and finally he'll hit it and every single member of the opposite team runs after it. absolutely hilarious. but you know what i remember? i remember that feeling i got when i (finally) hit the ball and my mom and dad would shoot out of their seats clapping and yelling. they were so excited for me...i must have been glowing. i don't think i really cared if i got out or not. just hitting the ball and hearing mom and dad's proud voices was enough for me.

i think it's kinda that way with God. sometimes i spend so much time trying to catch the eye of people around me, but what's the use? they're all swinging away as much as i am. and maybe picking their noses, too. but when my Father gets up and yells for me, when i hear that excited shout, i feel like i can take over the world. the other noises, the yelling of the other kids, is drowned out by that exuberant, giddy voice of my Dad. my heart pounds, my bow legs tumble after one another in a sort of duck-run, and i give it all i have to get to first. and sometimes i get out. sometimes it's even more than sometimes...but in that moment i don't care. i see Dad and Dad sees me and we understand what it's all about.

so i guess that's what makes this blogging thing kinda funny. i'm not a very good journaler, nor have i ever been that proficient at writing articles or profound insights. and trust me, i've tried to become that scholar to impress people who know me better than i'd ever be comfortable admitting. but every here and there, amidst the rants and ravings i scribble out here, i can hear Dad get up out of his seat...and i may not be able to see him right now because i'm focused on getting to that base, but somehow i know He's smiling...and this feels like the right thing to do.