Having kept hand-written journals all my life, I extract an enormous amount of pleasure from catching my random thoughts and trying to iron them out into some kind of sense. Since I was 8 or 9 years old I’ve kept journals, some of which will never be read again as they ceremoniously met their fate in an incinerator (long story). But the pleasure was in the writing as much as the review. It’s my therapy. It helps me sift and sort the spaghetti in my head. In this season, with 2 young children in my proverbial lap, time is too tight now to make that craft count. Yet here I am, online probably for hours every week Facebooking (is that a verb yet?), emailing, finding out useless (Eastender spoilers) and sometimes not so useless (vouchers codes for grocery shopping) information. So blogging, here I come.
When we get to Heaven, will we get to sit with popcorn sprinkled with calorie free sugar and drenched in fat-free butter and watch our lives replayed on a cloud-shaped screen… and laugh, cry and cringe to the story of our days? They say we will be worshipping the Lord 24/7 (yet outside of time of course…25/8?) but surely there will there be a day of rest to reflect and pour over the decision we made, the friends we followed, the heartaches and triumphs and days we wasted on pointlessness? Then again, perhaps for some that would require our End being in Hell, and not Heaven…
My ultimate intention in journalism is to ensure my End is found in Heaven, in His arms, safe and secure and rescued from Doubt and Suffering. I don’t want to miss the Uncommon Sense that is His will and His desire for my life, the best path I can beat out of this opportnity-soaked world.
I’ve been trying to work out why I get so much pleasure from writing and conclude that it is perhaps no other reason than this; here I can slow time down a little and actually see my life as it happens. I can capture life ‘live’ as it happens. I can be an audience member as well as a participant in my one shot at this journey and in doing so hope to make as few major errors as possible and find my best path.
So, here it is; unabridged, unplanned, unmasked – me.
By the way, why ‘The Sense Seeker’?
There was a church movement which started a handful of years ago called ‘Seeker Sensitivity’ which attempted to make church attractive and palatable to the ‘unchurched’. It stuck with me, not just in the context of how we should shape and develop our churches, but how we should live our lives.
We are all lost and in a myriad of different ways, in all the things we do, we are simply seeking ourselves.
We are found through our faiths, our families, our loves, our failures and frailties and eventually in our legacy.
I am seeking the Uncommon Sense, the legacy that is crafted by being aware of who I am, who I am not, who I might be and who I will never be – and trying my hardest to work out the difference.