Happy New Year!

Have you made any New Year's resolutions?

I wasn't planning to, but something my husband said today has changed my mind. He was reading an old post here and noted that one of the things that he appreciates about my blog is the ability to look back and remember what we were doing in years past. The thing is, that is getting harder to do, as the frequency of my blogging has steadily declined over the last five years. I started this blog in mid-2007. In 2008, my first full year of blogging, I posted 431 times. That was by far my most prolific year. The years 2009, 2010, and 2011 each went down. 2012 went back up a little, but since then my posting has gone down every year. So far this year I have only posted 20 times.

I think there are probably several reasons I am posting less. One, when I first started blogging, I had many friends who were also blogging. I read their blogs, they read mine, and there was motivation in that. When fewer people are reading, there is less incentive to write.

Two, I started this blog as an outlet for my writing. Now that I have found some other ways to channel that passion, I feel less driven to do it here.

Three, some of the things I have historically blogged the most about, such as homeschooling and child-rearing, are becoming less of a factor in my life.

But I don't want this blog to die. I have no idea who is still out there reading, but I hope that some day when I am gone (a long time from now!) this will at least be a place my children and grandchildren can go to revisit stories of their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents. Maybe when I'm an old lady in the rest home it will be a place I can do the same.

And hey, I may not have as much to say about homeschooling and child-rearing as I used to, but I do still have thoughts, and maybe even a bit of wisdom to share.

So I'm going to try to blog more in 2018. How much is "more"? If you want to know the answer to that, you're going to have to keep reading. :-)

And Then There Were Three

My adult children are back to school. It seems to be hitting me a little harder this year, perhaps because when they left last year there were still four people in the house. This year with the death of my mom, there are only three, and I am adjusting to yet another "new normal."

It has been an interesting month! Before the college kids left, we took a family camping trip to Big Bend in Texas. It was great in spite of a number of things that didn't quite go as planned. I have written an article on the experience that I hope will be available soon.

One of the challenges of the last month has been our car situation. Both my and my husband's cars had significant repair needs at the same time. As we tried to figure out how to address the situation both financially and logistically, a friend offered us his almost-brand-new Ford Explorer for our use (he has another car available to him). We gratefully accepted and have been using his vehicle for much of this month, including driving it to Texas! It was a humbling offer, one that showed us Christ's love in action. Wow. We planned to use his car again this weekend, as I needed to drive Caitlin to Missouri, and Phillip needed to attend the funeral of a dear aunt. Unfortunately, as Caitlin, Evan and I were about to hit the road, our friend's car started behaving erratically. So we had to postpone her return until Phillip got back with my car (which had been repaired). Having lost a day of travel time, I drove to and from Caitlin's college Saturday, a 16-hour trip. It was a long, long day, but one I was glad I did on Sunday when I was able to wake up in my own bed and go to my own church.

Both our cars are back in service, but my husband's is not long for this world, and we are only driving it around town. We hope to replace it around the first of the year.

Today is supposed to be the first day of school, inasmuch as we have a first day of school around here. :-) The principal is doing his part, but the head teacher is dragging. On top of the fatigue from all the driving, I have a sore throat. Nothing major, but enough to slow me down. I will try to do some planning and organizing today, and maybe we can start tomorrow. It is also going to be a week of cleaning and, I hope, unpacking most of the rest of what I want to unpack. We are having our first party in our new house next weekend, inviting all our music volunteers over to celebrate the start of a new season. Nothing like company to motivate me to do things around the house!

I have learned that the mice in these here parts think our house is their vacation home. We are slowly disabusing them of that notion.

I have been giving some thought to online security and privacy, something about which I have not worried much in the past. But as I put myself out there more and more as a writer, I think it behooves me to take more steps to protect my family's privacy, if not my own. In the near future I am going to revert all my public Facebook posts to private. I have set up a new public Facebook page where I plan to post my writings as well as other links I find informative, encouraging, or entertaining. If interested, you are invited to like and share my page!

 The three that remain. Photo taken last spring at Evan's First Communion. 

We haven't changed too terribly much since then. :-)

Happy Spring! (with update)

Wow, a month without a post. I don't know if I have ever gone this long. I have been pondering the reasons, and I think there are several. First, I am writing more places these days! Here are a few of my recent posts elsewhere. I am quite pleased with this development, but also regret that it seems to be making it harder to write on my own blog. Time to write is a precious commodity these days, and I must admit that the larger the potential audience for a piece, the higher its priority on my task list. But I also find myself wondering if maybe this blog is moving into the autumn of its life. Everything has its season, and I don't know if Round Unvarnish'd is still going to be telling tales when I'm in my eighties. But who knows? Maybe some day it will no longer be "A Round Unvarnish'd Tale" but "A Much Rounder, Unvarnish'd, Peeling, Cracked and Weathered Tale."

So, I guess an update is in order. Several weeks ago we enjoyed spring break with Caitlin. Now she is back at school and Trevor is home. Ah, that we could have them both at the same time. But I guess this way, the joy is spread out over a longer period. This past week we went to see Trevor play for the last time with the UNL Symphony. He won the undergraduate concerto competition for strings/piano two years ago when he was a sophomore and again this year as a senior (winning his sophomore year made him ineligible to compete his junior year). Here is a video of his performance on the winners' concert:

Brahms Second Piano Concerto, Finale from Cheryl on Vimeo.

I have been sick for about two weeks now. Not stay-in-bed sick, but dragging-by-the-end-of-the-day-I'm-behind-on-everything-because-I'm-so-drained sick. It started out as a cold, but the cough is hanging on, and hanging on, and hanging on. I will go to the doctor this week if I don't start seeing improvement.

Our pastor had a stroke. He is only in his mid-forties. Thanks be to God, it was a minor stroke, brought on by things that can be better treated and managed. His family--wife and four sons kindergarten and under--and his congregation are praying many prayers of thanks that he was preserved in life, is recovering well, and will in time be able to return to his call as a shepherd of souls. What a gift is life, always.

In two weeks Evan will take his First Communion at Easter Vigil. I only wish his big sister and brother could be here for the occasion.

Under the heading of "what I've been thinking about," I happened across a video of Monica Lewinsky giving a TED talk on what it's like to be publicly humiliated. It was quite compelling and made me think of the OU student who was videotaped singing a terrible and racist song on a bus. Here's an article expressing the hope that that young man's entire life is ruined because that is what he deserves. I am troubled by the thought that we live in an age where someone can do something admittedly cruel and stupid but even after repenting and apologizing and trying to learn from the mistake be never, ever able to put it behind him (or her) because of how thoroughly documented and public our lives have become. I am not thinking now of Parker Rice--I can't speak to his character or the sincerity of his apology--but of people in general and the problems posed by the permanence of the internet. Even those of us who are not public figures (and so have not sinned in such visible ways) can probably relate to the admonition that "the internet is forever." Most people have posts they wish they hadn't written, comments they wish they hadn't made, pictures they wish they hadn't shared--and how much more dangerous is the terrain for young people who are still in the phase of life where they tend to think they are invulnerable. I am reminded of that picture often shared on Facebook expressing gratitude for having come of age before social media. Oh, to be able to take back that word, that tweet, that . . . whatever. And yet, more often than not, we can't. Because even when the world with its short attention span has moved on and forgotten, and the "sinner" is redeemed and going on talk shows and writing books, there is still the knowledge that the offensive thing remains intact, floating in the cloud, retrievable at any time.

It is a knowledge that makes the forgiveness of sins and the forgetfulness of God all that more astounding.

Another Federalist Article, and a Patheos Link

My Christmas listening post is on Patheos today, linked by Dr. Veith.

This year I blogged about Lessons and Carols at The Federalist rather than here.

Delicious Irony

It just dawned on me that the piece I wrote for The Federalist has a rather wonderful ironic twist to it. In my article I took issue with the position held by Ezekiel Emanuel  that it is best for a person to die before he starts to experience a steep decline in health, mental acuity, and usefulness. As part of his argument, Emanuel cites research suggesting that most people peak in their forties:

. . . by 75, creativity, originality, and productivity are pretty much gone for the vast, vast majority of us. . . . Dean Keith Simonton, at the University of California at Davis, a luminary among researchers on age and creativity, synthesized numerous studies to demonstrate a typical age-creativity curve: creativity rises rapidly as a career commences, peaks about 20 years into the career, at about age 40 or 45, and then enters a slow, age-related decline. There are some, but not huge, variations among disciplines. Currently, the average age at which Nobel Prize–winning physicists make their discovery—not get the prize—is 48. . . . Simonton’s own study of classical composers shows that the typical composer writes his first major work at age 26, peaks at about age 40 with both his best work and maximum output, and then declines, writing his last significant musical composition at 52. 

For the record, the year your humble blogger turned 50 is the same year she sold her first article to a national magazine. Take that, Emanuel.

De quoi écrire

Hermann Fenner-Behmer (1866-1913)

Public Service Announcement for My Fellow Bloggers

If your blog is hosted by Blogger, be sure to check your spam file every now and then. I just did so for the first time in a while (thanks to a reminder from Blogger) and found three comments, going back six months, that weren't spam. I don't know why Blogger marked them as such. They were legitimate comments from people who have either commented before or whom I could easily identify. So don't forget to check every now and then to make sure you aren't missing something scintillating from someone like me! :-)

A New Blog

Several weeks ago, one of my online Lutheran friends launched a new blog. It is distinctive in that it is written by women, for women. The result is promising, and I encourage you to check out Sister, Daughter, Mother, Wife. You might recognize the author of today's installment.

She's Like the Wind

For those of you who also follow my daughter's blog, she has changed her URL. Yes, again. :-) You can now find her at the edge of everywhere (in my estimation a very good place to be, seeing as how you'll be running into a girl named Caitlin there). Link below.

edge-of-everywhere.blogspot.com

Words, Words, Words

It happened again.

Someone, somewhere on the internet, used a word someone else didn't like.

I don't know the particulars of the situation. What I do know is that the situation was discussed at length elsewhere online, and the person-in-question's discernment and integrity questioned, without any mention of an attempt to approach him about his use of the word or to inform him that it had hurt someone.

I find this both sad and disturbing: sad because I love the written word but increasingly see the futility of much of it online; and disturbing because this could have easily happened to me. I didn't know the word at issue had become politically incorrect. In fact, I saw it used in print today, by a distinguished and respected scholar and columnist. I guess he didn't get the memo either.

I say this could happen to me. Actually, it has happened to me. I am not going to share particulars either of the current example or my past one, because I don't wish to get into debates about individual words. But what I would like to suggest is that if a word offends you, there are helpful and unhelpful ways to respond. If you sincerely believe the word to be offensive to a large number of people, you can go to the person who used it and, for his own good, suggest that he not use the word. In this case you would actually be doing him a favor. Maybe he will heed your advice; maybe he will not. But at that point you have done what you can, and it is time to drop it. If you want to appeal to the general public to avoid the word, by all means, do so. But make the focus of your appeal the word, and not the person or people who used it. Here's how you do that. Instead of rolling your eyes and asking what kind of clueless, insensitive dummy uses that word, issue a carefully considered and earnest plea about why you find the word objectionable and why you would appreciate people avoiding it. ("I saw the word _____ in print today. This word bothers me because . . . .")

Or, alternatively, you can choose to overlook. For my own part, I do this a lot. I have come to realize that I am more sensitive than most people about language. I think it is in part because I grew up in a home where words were frequently used as weapons. I compare it to having an allergy. I was exposed to great amounts of second-hand smoke growing up, and now I can't stand to be around cigarette smoke and have an immediate and strong allergic reaction whenever I am. In the same way, I grew up among frequent uses of profane and vulgar and just mean talk. I now have no tolerance for it, and I realize that this is my own issue. For me, "cra*" is vulgar, but for many people it doesn't seem to be. I can't abide the acronym "OM*" because to me it is nothing short of taking the Lord's name in vain. But I also realize that many people who use that expression don't hear it as such. I have expressed my opinion to my family and, whether or not they agree with me, they respect my position and in love don't use that phrase (and others) around me. If I see or hear the expression elsewhere I look the other way and remind myself that it is probably not the intent of the speaker or writer to break the Second Commandment or to offend anyone. If I choose to be offended, that is my problem.

I would like to think that it is still possible to have fruitful discussions online about things that matter. I increasingly doubt that to be the case. But maybe if more of us gave more thought to both our word choices and our reactions to them, we would come a little closer to the mark.

How to Be a Grown-up

Katie Schuermann at He Remembers the Barren has a post today that is not just for those who are childless. (Truth be told, nothing at Katie's blog is for the childless only. It is a site dripping with Gospel comfort for all who live under the cross.)

Katie's target audience is the barren woman who is the victim of unwanted counsel from well-meaning, and sometimes not so well-meaning, advice givers. She acknowledges that while there are those clueless louts whose unthinking bowling ball comments flatten the recipient with their cruelty, most people will follow the lead of the one with whom they are conversing and will not walk through a door that has not been opened:

So, let’s give the world a break and take some responsibility for the conversations we keep. Let’s not blog-blame others for finishing the conversations we start ourselves and, instead, kindly explain to our friends and acquaintances face-to-face what we need most from them.

It's good advice for all of us. I have on more than one occasion watched as someone who is facing challenges in his life in the area of parenting, health, job, church, or something else has become indignant when, after bemoaning his situation, the one to whom he was belly-aching presumed to offer advice. I have done it myself. It soon becomes clear that what is wanted is not advice but sympathy. Fine. But it is unreasonable, once the subject is raised, to be offended when the person with whom you raised the subject offers some comment upon it.

Thank you, Katie, for your wise counsel. Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear. 

Well, Well

I just noticed that the previous post was my 1500th. Funny that the title is "Yes, I'm Still Here." I don't usually pay much attention to my stats. I have a Site Meter but go months without looking at it. After noticing on my Blogger home page today that I had written 1500 posts I decided to go look at my Site Meter account. In the 6+ years of this blog (my first post was on May 21, 2007) I have had 136,976 page views. Pretty unimpressive compared to a lot of other blogs out there. So here's looking at all of you nice people who are still dropping by. I guess I'll keep going a while longer.

A New Find

I think my readers--the mommy types, at least--will like this blog. It belongs to this writer. I can't help wondering if she's Lutheran.

Allergic Lutherans

I see it all the time. Someone, somewhere on the internet says something and all hell breaks loose. Certainly you have seen it, too:

You want to talk about what the sanctified life looks like? You must be a pietist.

You reverence the cross and chant the liturgy? You must be one of those repristinators.

You sang THAT song? Your church must be on the road to Contemporary Worship.

You are being critical of a pastor? You must have no respect for the pastoral office.

The list could go on, but you get the idea. It seems that in the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod today it is almost impossible to have a meaningful conversation about any number of things because of the speed with which the line is drawn any time a "hot button" issue comes up. We are frankly more polarized than the United States Congress. "You're on that side; I'm on this side; you are not, therefore, to be trusted. You are, in fact, to be marked, avoided, and demonized." From that point, it's all downhill, as the competing viewpoints choose up teams and congregate on blogs and Facebook walls. Snarky comments are written and funny pictures and songs posted that refer vaguely to the opposition and that are understood only by insiders, and much fun is had by all; if someone comes along and questions the behavior, he is told he can't take a joke. Well, maybe he can't. But maybe that's the point. I think we may be so very divided, with so much invested emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually, that it might in some (most?) cases be best to forgo humor, snark, satire and the rest. Maybe if we spent more time trying to earnestly understand and then to respond in kindness and love, we would actually make a little progress towards finding our common ground.

(N.B. I'm not holding my breath.)

Wise Words, Part 2

More aphorisms from Andree Seu:

"Marry a man who loves God more than he loves you."

"Living in regret of the past, or fear of the future, are two ways of not living at all."

"Thinking a lot is not the same as praying a lot."

"Your child is never angry for no reason."

"Break a fear-of-man problem by aggressively loving people."

"If you wait for better times to 'Rejoice in the Lord' you will never do it."

"Let your words be few."

"A phone call to say 'I'm thinking of you' yields benefits all out of proportion to the time investment."

"Be known as faithful. If you say, 'Let's do lunch' do lunch."

"An idol forfeits your life. You look back and say you never lived."

"God is the better chess player. Just obey."

"You're one prayerless day away from being capable of any sin."

"Pray on the spot for the person who comes to mind. It's either pray or sin."

"The longer I live the truer the Bible gets."

Hope

This is exactly what I needed to read today. I commend it to you as well. Thank you, Reb. Mary of CSPP. Full post here.

"I Will Hope"

What do you do when all the crises—health, family, church—crash in at once? When you try to squash the sadness and the lostness into a corner of your throat because you feel like there’s no point in talk--treading over and over the same ground, when there are no new solutions in sight? When it gets to the point that you dread going to bed because there’s no peace in sleep, only—at best—a temporary oblivion overlaid with the crushing burden of having to get up in the morning and face everything all over again?

More’s the victory for the enemy, if he can get us to dread the bright dawn, to believe that its fresh rays can never illumine dark Hopeless. Recognize this attack for what it is, and remember: What do I know, even when I do not feel it? The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

No, everything may not look brighter in the morning, but “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him." It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

So eager am I to depart Hopeless that I forget: It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.

So eager am I to deaden the pain, to protect myself from the anguish of Hopeless, that I forget: what is such self-protection, after all, but the hardening of my heart against the only One can rescue me, who even now is at work in my life? For the Lord will not cast off forever, but, though he cause grief—though He cause grief!—he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love.

The enemy hisses that Hopeless is Reality. That dawn brings only drear. That hardening your heart against hope is your only protection, so shove your feelings back down your gut, because numb is the best you can hope for.

Hearken to a different voice: Today, as you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion. Oh! How many rebellions have there been, in this foolish little shriveled-raisin heart of mine! Thrice in short span, the writer to the Hebrews echoes this exhortation, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.” Today, today, today—this very moment! Thrice-repudiated is the insidious accusation of never and too little and too late. Even amid the darkness, this is the moment of grace—of the shockingly free grace whose dreadfully priceless purchase makes all the difference, now and forevermore, between Hard and Hopeless.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Though he slay me with blessings beyond what I can bear, I will hope in Him.

Honey for a Blogger's Heart

I had the most lovely thing happen today. My friends Christina and Jeannette share a blog with a another friend of theirs (a lady I don't know but am sure I would love if she is anything like Christina and Jeannette). It is a reading blog, documenting their personal journey through the literature recommended in Susan Wise Bauer's book The Well Educated Mind. I first pointed you, my readers, to their blog in this post from 2011.

Right now they are reading one of my favorite all-time books: Jane Eyre. I wish I had time to read along with them, but at the moment I am still trying to finish The Hobbit (having been slowed down of late by the same things that are keeping me from blogging as often as I would like). But I am still enjoying their posts, and today, I especially enjoyed this one. Click over and you'll see why. And then stay a while longer and see what other hidden jewels you can discover.

Thank you so much, ladies. It is nice to be appreciated.

Bloggus Interruptus

Hi everyone,

I haven't felt like blogging this week and don't know when I will. If and when I do feel like it again, I don't know if I'll have time. I hope you'll still be here when I get back, whenever that is. Thanks for hanging out with me the last 5 years when I know you must have had better things to do.

Love,

Cheryl

Blog Silence

I'm still here. Really. But I've had much more important things to do lately than blog. We spent the week packing and then moving my son to the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, where he plans to be for the next four years, majoring in piano performance. This was our final look at him yesterday morning as he walked into his home away from home.


It was a wonderful week but a hard one. In time I will probably have some things to say about it. But for now I need to bring some order to the home front and help a few others in the house prepare for trips that they will be taking in the near future.

Blogging will return, so please stay tuned. Who knows--maybe some day I will even put some varnish on the Round Unvarnish'd Table.

Measuring Our Words and Those of Others

Rebekah has a thought-provoking post at the CSPP blog right now. It reminds me of this one I wrote a few months ago. I think both posts make the point that when it comes to that thing we call "best construction" we can be decidedly selective in how we apply it. We will move heaven and earth to read the words and actions of our friends in the best possible light but when it comes to those about whom our feelings are more, shall we say, ambivalent, we don't always look for the most positive "spin." With our friends, we readily tolerate, turn the other cheek, forgive, and explain away whatever we must to maintain harmony, but with those we feel less charitable towards we are sadly inclined to look for offense.

The question, then, is what to do? The theme of my post linked above is taken from a story my husband tells his music students: "just play." In other words, don't worry about how you are going to be perceived because no matter how you play your friends will cheer you and your detractors will point out what you did wrong. I think it's good advice. I have a problem with caring too much about what other people think--about me, about my family, about my church--and I am working on that and realizing there is not much I can do about it--they will think what they will think, regardless of what I do, whether it's based in reality or not. But I also think when it comes to internet communication there are things we can all do to make it more likely that our interactions will be positive. We have all experienced online disagreements, both those handled well and those handled poorly, and if we are honest with ourselves we have at various times contributed to both. Of course, there are some people who seem incapable of the former and who always do the latter, and they are the ones we learn to avoid at all costs because when we disagree with them we will invariably have our heads handed to us on platters. But most people are more reasonable than that, and since we do so much communicating on the internet these days, isn't it worth our time to take the extra care that we can rather than toss words out thoughtlessly and carelessly, putting the onus on others to read them in the right way and pleading "you are so sensitive" and "you can't take a joke" when they don't?

Now certainly, big boys and girls should be able to disagree on matters of principle without getting mad at one another. And they do--I see it done well all the time. So what is it that turns a difference of opinion into something in which at least one person has taken offense? Usually it's because the difference of opinion has somehow become personalized. So the question is how to keep that from happening?

The best way to do that is to keep the focus on the substance of the disagreement. You like Mac and I like PC and we ought to be able have a discussion about it and go on peacefully coexisting. However, if the substance of the disagreement is akin to "Your daddy is lazy and your mama is fat and you all go to a stupid church" it's probably time to walk away from the discussion. :-) You can ask for clarification, but if the same thing comes back a second time you will have to decide if you want to argue the point (probably not advisable) or just let it go (bingo!).

If, however, you decide to continue a discussion in which there is a substantive disagreement, the avoiding of offense usually boils down not to the "what" of our words but the "how" of them. And therein lies the challenge. It's that elusive thing called "tone" that is easy to hear in speech but hard to pin down in writing. Certainly it can be identified--as a writer and teacher I would not argue otherwise--but it can also be easily misinterpreted, especially when one is predisposed to do so. This is where Rebekah's point about the hearer comes in. If we feel secure with the other person, if we feel trusting, if there is a friendship there, we tend to hear the words one way. If the person is someone we don't know or like or trust, we are more likely to hear the words in another way. I don't know how to get around that--it's just the way it is. But it is why, more and more, I question the use of sarcasm and snark and the like in written communication, especially communication that we intend to be substantive. It is just so easily misread. If we are really interested in meaningful communication leading to understanding, our words need to be chosen with the utmost of care and delivered with the greatest level of reasoned objectivity that we can muster. We should avoid what is known in the study of rhetoric as "loaded" language--words with high emotional content. And as hearers, we need to take time and care and go above and beyond in trying to understand one another. We need to ask, "Did you mean to say?" and withhold hasty judgments and turn the other cheek and proceed in caution and gentleness at all times.

All easy to say but harder to do. Here are some examples of utterances that are not conducive to achieving understanding, followed by suggested alternatives that keep the focus on the subject at hand rather than redirecting it to the individuals involved:

If someone says something you find surprising, don't say "You have got to be kidding" or "You should have your head examined" or "It's sad to see that some people still believe that silly notion." Instead say, "That surprises me [focus on you, not the other person]. Why do you think that?"

If someone appears to be getting worked up, don't say "Clearly I have touched a nerve." It sounds like you are enjoying feeling as though you have the upper hand. Instead, just continue in as calm a manner possible. Maybe the other person isn't getting worked up at all. Maybe you have misread the situation. But if emotions are starting to run high, you may be able to diffuse them by not calling attention to the fact and by remaining humble and carrying on as reasonably as possible.

If someone mentions a book or movie or song you can't abide, don't say, "You're reading/watching/listening to/singing that piece of crud?" Instead say "That's not my preference" or "I'm not sure about that. Why do you like it?"

If someone says, "I don't understand" don't belittle him for not understanding something that you think everyone ought to easily grasp. Ask, "What don't you understand?" and then try to explain it to him.

If someone expresses dislike/disapproval for something you are fond of (a certain fashion, perhaps, or maybe a particular decorating theme), don't take it personally. Sometimes I see people wear things to church that I would never wear or decorate their homes with items I would never choose. It doesn't mean I dislike them or think less of them for the choice they have made. We have a difference of opinion about what is appropriate or attractive. We can still be friends (as long as I don't attack their choice derisively by saying one of the phrases above!).

Realize that, ultimately, criticizing someone's tone is a red herring. That's not to say tone doesn't matter--we should all aim for the highest possible level of discourse. But once you have leveled a charge of "I don't like your tone" you are abandoning the substance of the argument and turning your attention to its execution. Perhaps that is what you want to do. But it is a different issue from the one at hand.

Finally, this may run counter to what you might think, but with the advent of more and more written communication I think people tend to go overboard in their efforts to lend expression to their words through the use of capital letters and punctuation and colorful turns of phrase. My advice, if you are communicating with someone you don't have an extremely close relationship with, or if you find yourself disagreeing online with anyone at all, is to err on the side of less, rather than more, expressiveness. Be formal rather than informal and objective rather than subjective. If you truly want to come to understanding and a harmonious ending, make every possible effort to inoculate your words against misunderstanding. Exclamation points, capital letters, and colorful expressions draw attention to you and your personal voice rather than keeping the focus on the subject at hand and are as a result generally not helpful.

It's an internet jungle out there. It truly is, and hiding behind every tree is a wild animal waiting to pounce or some quicksand ready to suck you in. If at all possible, when you sense danger turn around and go the other way. It is possible to come out alive, but realize if you venture in that you probably won't completely escape injury. But with some care you can minimize the risk to both yourself and others and along the way you may encounter enough beauty to make the trip worthwhile.

The Virtue of Shutting Up*

In my last post I linked to an essay detailing the writer's effort to go one month without engaging in snark. If you haven't read it yet I highly recommend you do so. It is excellent in many ways. Here is one of the passages that impressed me:

But here's the thing. Without the ability to vent, I had only two options: to let something relatively stupid eat away at me -- or to just let it go. So I tried that.

. . . . As the days went on, I bit my tongue about many things, including but not limited to the following:

The journalist on TV with the squeaky voice

A good friend's seeming belief that her puppy is human

Tourists screaming outside our house about needing to buy Febreze for their car

The plumber's inability to make our bathtub hold water

The likelihood that an old acquaintance who has never not cheated will manage to keep his bits in his pants now that he's engaged

At first I worried that not talking about these things would make me not "known" to the people in my life. Maybe I've had too many years of therapy, or maybe we've all had too many years of Oprah and the imperative to "get it all out." But this was an odd and even narcissistic presumption, as though people close to me needed to be aware of my every thought in order for our relationships to be genuine.

Instead of me denying my true thoughts, I stopped giving the unproductive ones much weight. Adding credence to the theory that changing what you do changes how you think, unkind thoughts just dissipated in a matter of days. It actually doesn't matter much whether my friend's dog gets to eat sitting on a chair at her table. She has her reasons. What do I care? And it's not like I don't do anything weird, either. I think I can tell what's in the mail before I open the mailbox. Is that any worse?

Not giving voice to my flinty little put-downs also eliminated that weird guilt where you wonder if the person somehow heard you or found out what you said. I also stopped suspecting that anyone might be saying harsh things about me.

Win win win.

Then yesterday I read a blog post written by a friend who also discussed the merits of simply shutting up:

I have just been pondering the perks of not saying as much anyway as it seems to be less stressful overall. Listening is certainly happening and pondering but avoiding the ire just works better. There is so much noise etc. at home that quiet is okay. Perhaps a craving for the quiet I can get, in just listening and being stiller is what is up with me. I have just been thinking of it as 'practicing shut up'.

I think these writers are on to something. Today with the advent of social media it is so easy to give immediate voice to whatever comes into our heads. The irony of my writing that last sentence on my blog is not lost on me. But I think sometimes we are too inclined to air our thoughts when it might be better to keep them to ourselves. Something happens and we run to Facebook or Twitter and make our pronouncement about whatever it is. Until recently I was a member of a forum in which I felt pretty safe to vent, rant and spout off about almost anything. And I did just that until something happened to suggest to me that maybe I was sharing too much. I left that group and for a while it was very hard. Something would happen in my daily life that I wanted to complain about but the place I used to go complain was no longer there. And over time I have found that some of the things I used to complain about aren't eating away at me as they did before. Whereas I thought the "venting" was helping me, I'm starting to wonder if really it was hurting me, causing me to dwell on those annoyances rather than choosing between addressing them or letting them go. I think if you were to ask my husband and children they would tell you that in the months since I have not had that "b****ing post" available to me I have become a happier, more serene person.

I am not trying to knock discussion groups or forums in general. They can be a wonderful thing and I still belong to a few. And this is not to say that everyone will have the problem that I had. But for me, at this point in my life, it was not a positive in the long run to have a place where I felt "safe" to say anything because I said lots of things that in retrospect I wish I had not said.

I am also not suggesting that we all need to practice repression and bottle up everything inside. It is good to share our joys and sorrows with friends and to help each other celebrate those joys and bear up under the sorrows. But sometimes the positive act of sharing and encouraging can degenerate into a habit of whining and complaining that isn't ultimately edifying. And sometimes our need to be heard can get us into trouble. There is a point at which it is less important to get our own point of view out there such that we can be understood and win the argument than it is to just listen to and nod and love the other person.

What I found, for myself, is that if I need someone to talk to, if I need to "vent" or "rant" or cry on someone's shoulder, it is more helpful to go to an individual that has proven to be a source of encouragement in the past rather than to air my woes in the vast canyon of a place like Facebook or Twitter where I don't even know if anyone is listening. And sometimes in the time that it takes me to think about writing to or calling my "ventee" the thing that was making me crazy has been put into perspective and I no longer see the point of dredging it up.

And then, of course, there's always God who, miracle of miracles, is never too busy to listen. I don't need a computer or a cell phone to reach Him. And with Him I don't have to measure my words at all because He knows me inside and out and nothing I say can surprise or offend or shock or annoy Him. He pats me on the head, says "There, there" and turns me around to go back out into the world and give it just one more try, knowing that He is backing me up every step of the way.

"Cast all your cares on Him, because He cares for you." - 1 Peter 5:7

*Bikermom, I borrowed your title. I hope you don't mind.