Why do you care what I think?

I guess the answer is a little bit easier to answer if you know me. Which also begs the question, "Do you know me?"

From what I gather from others web logs or "blogs," anonymity is a standard. I don't know why because if you are reading this you either a) told by me that I had a blog, b) facebook stalked me and discovered I had changed my websites, c) someone who randomly searches for blogs to follow and don't give a flying flip what my actual name is.

Yet this is contradictory to the reason to blog and really all of our modern networking. By writing in a blog or "blogging" I can express my opinions, thoughts, and musing regardless of their coherence, sanity, logisticalness, or butchering of the English language. I suppose you care what I think because I have left many friends for a period of time and you want to keep in touch with me. Aw, how sweet. And, even though most of this post has been scathingly sarcastic, I would like to say without the least bit of hubris, thank you for caring what I think.

Maybe one day we will see each other (if you can figure out my super secret identity) and you can tell me how stupid I was to post such swill.

Second Topic
Why am I in VA?
To answer this you might want to read the introduction to Donald Miller's "Through Painted Deserts." It talks about leaving and how we are formed when there is no saftey net. My favorite novels, and consequetially the best ones, are about journeys. I admire and often question the decision-making skills and thouht processes of the characters in these stories that leave. Often the stories end poorly. Abraham died in a foreign land, Moses could only gaze at the Promised Land. Jeremiah "Liver-eating" Johnson was hunted like the animals he trapped until he died. Christopher McCandless died alone wishing for community. And the list goes on.
There are good endings. Joshua was faithful until the Promised Land. Donald Miller found a new community and reinvigorated his faith and wrote books to inspire others to continue when it seemed Christianity was irrelevant in modern culture.

I think the answer lies in my favorite novel. By the end of "The Grapes of Wrath," the Joads have nothing left. The big dreams they had were crushed like the grapes in vineyard. They lost their strength and hope. But they could still give of themselves. In the last paragraph the daughter actually breast feeds a grown man after her baby was still born.

I guess I'm away to remove my selfish thoughts by losing everything that has made comfortable. Jehovah has called me to have the faith that He will feed me like the birds and dress me like the flowers. I want choose my next steps carefully on the path of life. I do not want to make selfish decisions, because they are easy, or expected, or boring, or even logical. Sorry for the long post.

namaste, vaya con Dios