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The problem with having over 400 blog entries is the inevitability of repetition. I think of a topic and then remember I’ve written about it before, darn it. Revisiting a topic can be a good thing, however. For one, I could have learned something pertaining to the original that gives it a deeper meaning. It also gives those who never read the first one an opportunity to see how I think about a subject. Plus, if I don’t remember everything my favorite bloggers have written, it’s safe to assume people will not remember everything I’ve written either. There’s a downside to that as well – having people not remember or never having read certain entries. I want to add to past events, and either have to recount them so they make sense, or add links to those entries for those who otherwise wouldn’t have a clue what I’m talking about. Saving my older entries have served as a time capsule of my life and I noticed a picture emerge – or more accurately – a puzzle. Each entry, each piece of this puzzle of my life may seem random and perhaps even useless, nonetheless have their perfect place. I didn’t plan it that way; that’s simply how life works. I just never notice until I look back. I’ll start with my 103rd entry "Emotional vampire" written February 27, 2006. I talked about reconnecting with my biological father after 20 years of silence. In my 433rd entry "Of Endings . . . and Beginnings . . . and Love of Words" written February 2, 2007, I mentioned that I gave my father my phone number. Entry 436 "Contact!" written February 14, 2007, I discussed my first telephone conversation with him. Those show a grand picture of reconnecting with an estranged father. There’s a lot more that I have yet to talk about, only because it’s so special, putting it to words is difficult. We’ve not chatted on the phone much, but we still email each other regularly. I then wrote "Write me a prayer, or is it pray me a writer?" , "Inadequately Effective" , and "Little-Bacterium-Me" (entries 468, 471 and 475 respectively). I want to highlight a portion of the comment rose_shadow left in the last one: I've been going through some spirtual valleys lately--that "dark night of the soul" kind of thing where it feels like prayers get no further than the ceiling--and began to wonder what you were talking about here: does God really care about me? Sure He loves me, but does he *care* about the little darknessness of everyday life? Now here’s a portion of an email my dad sent me not two hours later: I want to spend more time studying prayer. Vanessa got me a great book for Christmas on prayer by Philip Yancey. The title is “Prayer, Does it Make any Difference?” It is truly an honest look at prayer and I am just at the beginning. He talks about how the promises of God seem to be hard to realize down here on earth, yet the promises are there. I am really interested in prayer and why it seems so hard for me most of the time and also why I seem to have limited results. Do you feel the same? I know God hears me, but it seems like the prayers bounce off the ceiling sometimes. What made his email so eerie is I hadn’t talked to him in a few weeks, let alone talk about prayer to him. And to have him echo rose_shadow so precisely and at the same time? Wow. It was enough I had to email him those three entries. He wants to talk to me more about it, so I have my phone charged and ready! What makes my heart glad isn’t the timing or the small coincidences, but the chance to build a stronger relationship with my dad. That’s a portion of this puzzle of life I’m eager to keep building and see where it goes. Quite a different attitude from my first mention of him, isn’t it? |