This Blog Is Not Cancerous

The death of a blog is a slow thing. A drawn-out hospitalization where the patient continually makes attempts at getting better, yet again and again regresses into disuse. How many blogs do you know (how many have you written) that begin with "I know I haven't written in a while?"

I offer no apologies for the silence. It is my writing and I dispense it as I please. I would have written more though, had there been more words. Sometimes the words go and you fear they are gone forever. You substitute them with the flat, yeast-less sentences of witless uninspiration. And in those word-droughts it is easy to forget that the words do not come from you. That the Incarnate was called the Word, and upholds all by His word. The Word's word upholds you and gives you spark. You do not make fire - you are man, and Prometheus gives you fire.

And so my flame words were not given to me. Or maybe I didn't ask for them. "You do not have because you do not ask." Feeble, arrogant me. I am no lexicon, I am no titan.

But sentences smolder in me now.

Odd that they rekindle at the new year. Rebeginnings. How very coincidental of Him to have orchestrated.
I have resolutions. But not for the new year. New year's resolutions seem to be doomed to one month lifespans. We are a people of new year's resolutions, and so I resolve differently.
I continue my resolve for joy. It is everywhere, and I see it more and more. I see it in the tear on the cheek and the laughter in the sunshine. Joy falls with the California drizzles and rises with the unfailing steadiness of the sun. It is all around, I resolve to see more of it.
I resolve against stagnation. Of living in the conservative, evangelical rut of subtle idolatry. Maybe you don't know what I'm talking about, but I won't be more specific.
I resolve to obey that pesky commandment in Matthew 5:42.
But I mostly resolve to live better. This American dream(land) is not what I want, but it can haze the thoughts and crowd the desires with materialism. To live well is to live for God, and not for Mammon, or self, or looks, or the house or the "one day I'm gonna have this" dream.
To live well is to die.

I want to explore that.