Hello from Chicago!
InterVarsity training is going super and I'm learning a lot. Including the existence of a fantastic website which hosts the "WayBackMachine," a spooky, hilarious bit of technology.
I was discussing with one of my new friends (Hi, Jason!) how blogs are international, and there for all to see. He mentioned that they are also there for all eternity. Strange concept, given the fluid nature of the internet. He pontificated. No, as he has now pointed out to me, my artistic license goes too far. Fine then. He SAID (bor-ing) that this fantastic machine can show all the variations of any given website, from beginning to end.
I typed in our old church website. Sigh. Oh, its humble beginnings. From 4 pages beginning on March 2, 2001; to 10 pages; then 11; then back to 4 on its final day of March 6, 2005. Those four years of the website (almost to the day) are nothing compared to almost 100 years of the church's rich history. It makes me sad. It's a bit like a funeral service, I guess. I have to grieve and move on. But like pictures on a fireplace mantel of a departed loved one, it's sweet to know I can still see the old website in all its glory (har har).
I guess the challenge is to realize that was then, and this is now. The fact that the website is now gone from all but a little electronic time machine is a poignant reminder that there's no point in trying to dig up and give CPR to the old church. It's painful to look at a picture and say goodbye, but it's both painful and gross to try to exhume the body. I have to celebrate what was and move on in good faith of what God is doing now, and what He will do in the future.
Kennan says I am alarmingly transparent on this blog. I suppose he's right, but I can't seem to help myself. But oh, the drafts that will never get posted! I do have some sense of shame, after all. And yes, I tend to take some amount of artistic license but I'm trying to curb that. As I was saying during my tea with Queen Elizabeth just the other day, "Now Liz, there's no point in making crap up. Life is far too interesting to mess it all up by being overimaginative."
She chuckled heartily at my boundless wit and offered me another crumpet. As do most of the famous folks I spend time with!
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5 comments:
Who the poop are you? While I appreciate the nebulously positive feedback, I don't know you, so I still feel spammed.
I guess I'll leave the comment since you're not trying to sell me anything. I don't think.
I don't think you left enough libelous material there for my lawyer to get at. By the way, I don't 'pontificate,' I 'croon.' There's a big difference!
-Jason
Ok, gotta go to the mat on this one: describe what a crumpet tastes like.
Barring that, I'm calling you on your tea with the queen, only because I've had tea with her and she never chuckles, heartily or otherwise!
Jason,
Croon, eh? I'd like to see this. If you and Monique come down to Atlanta to visit, there's a fantastic kareoke place that we could go to. You could show off your mad skills, yo.
As for you, Mr. McM.,
I'm insulted by your accusations. A crumpet tastes like most British food. Dry and crumbly, with suspicious looking clumps.
And maybe if you were as funny as I am, Lizzie would laugh when you're with her.
So there.
;)
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