Why We Blog: Blame It On the Grasshoppers

Just down the road and to the east at Getting Down with Jesus, Jennifer tossed out a challenge to consider the question “Why We Blog” and post on it this week. (Unsolicited plug for Jennifer: Stop reading this and go read her today instead. You may wonder about me, but you’ll have no problem at all understanding why she blogs. Amazing God-seeking heart rushes out every time she uncaps her pen.)

The timing of her invitation is good for me. 

I just passed the 200-entry mark (without a lot of fanfare, thanks, since I completely failed to notice). 

The soon approaching expiration of my domain and hosting contract remind me that I’m nearing the end of a full year of writing out in the light of day. 

And I’m in the process of moving A Different Story to a new home (at once frightening, painful and tedious — I’ll be whining about it in an upcoming post or two if I ever get Gideon out of my hair).

All of that makes it a very good time for me to reflect on Why.

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In a word, I blog because of the grasshoppers. 

Yes, grasshoppers. 

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About a year ago, I prayed and waited while a dear friend and coworker succumbed to all that we hate about human frailty and slipped away into her Father’s sweet embrace. Today, her workstation sits empty beside mine, reminding me daily not only of her absence, but of her passionate love for Jesus that used to bleed out everywhere she went in the office.

We mourned her loss. And we rejoiced that now she gets it. Now she feasts at the table with Him.

At the same time, I mentally pounded my chest for a while, selfishly feeling abandoned, wondering who would be here to remind me of why I work. Who would be here to tell me how Jesus would be lifted up? Who would help me remember that we don’t just adjust claims, but we advance the Kingdom?

Who would be here to do that when her cubicle stood hollow? When her phone rang unanswered?

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When I pulled back and let God speak a while, He reminded me of the thing He’d put in me that I’d long since relegated to old tattered notebooks stacked in a closet. 

If you write, you understand this already. Words can’t stay inside. They have to come out or they start on fire inside you. 

So I’ve always written, because I can’t not write. 

But I always quickly put it away for no one to see. 

Because years ago I had walked away from the dream, a coward. 

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After Debbie went home, I spent a lot of time with God asking a lot of questions. One of them was how He wanted to use me. Because if Debbie taught me nothing else, she taught me that He had big plans for all of us. He had stuff He wanted us doing, day in and day out.

During one of those times, in my cubicle over my lunch hour, I read from Numbers. 

I read of the scouts entering Canaan to check it out. I read of the cowards who returned with tales of terror and impossibility.

And that’s where the grasshoppers came in.

They told of grasshoppers, dwarfed by giants in the land God promised.

But I also read of Caleb who came back telling of wonders and delights in the land. 

Caleb refused to be counted among the grasshoppers.

And I read that God called him a different story.

Because of his passionate faith and obedience. 

And it all came together.

In a matter of moments, I had penned my first blog entry, purchased adifferentstory.net and etermined to let God finally have His way with my writing.

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Jennifer mentioned it sometimes seems a little risky and self-indulgent, this blogging thing. It’s both of those. 

The cowardly grasshopper still rises up now and then. Why would I put myself out here like this? I still wonder, every time I hit Publish,

Who would want to read this stuff?

And too, almost a year later, I’ve found that beyond letting God do His thing and use it how He wants (sometimes in the most startling ways), I find some things that feel like they’re just for me. Maybe that’s self-indulgent. Maybe that’s God working. 

Writing as I study helps me understand what God is saying better, and putting it out in the light helps keep me accountable to it. Blogging has permitted me to “meet” some wonderful folks who are working out their faith out there too. 

And it’s helped me get a piece of the dream back. 

The longer I do this, the more I believe that when we write, we become the people we truly long to be. 

The ones God’s made us to be.

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