I’m shutting her down. Not permanently. But for a little while. About 40 days.
I need some time off. Time out of technology. Not completely of course. I have an album to mix, church work to do, books to write. But the things that I don’t need, are expendable. Despite my best arguments that I like them. Twitter, for example. I’ve made a ton of new connections and have “met” some incredible people. Some even in person now. FaceBook is another one. Amazing for reconnecting with old friends, or staying in touch with people I meet all over the world. Or keeping you updated on what’s happening in my life. I’m honored that you even read.
This blog is another non-necessity. I love it. Love forming connections with you. Love the ministry that it provokes, the conversations. And love providing you a small, ongoing window into our lives and all that Jesus has allowed us to undertake in his name, from the humorous to the profound.
But like everything, it has its seasons. And in this season, it’s taking a back seat. Actually, I’m throwing it out of the car while we’re still moving.
This fast of social media is tied with some other separations I’m undertaking, one’s which I don’t feel the liberty to go into now. But needless to say I’m looking forward to reconnecting with God, my family, and the call of simply being a son. No distractions. Realigning myself with my Daddy, and getting a clearer picture of what I’m here for. Tied in there are prayers for revival within this new generation; prayers for healing of loved ones; and reordering things in me that, well, simply need to be put back together. And eliminating the waste. Ambition. Lack of purity. A spirit of unbelief. I also think such periods are Biblical, and I admire those who have made such seasons of separation a lifestyle. That’s my hope. It’s Christlike.
So this Blogatical leaves you free of my voice as well. But it doesn’t mean this canvas on the interweb will be blank. Far from it. For the next 40-odd days, it’s yours.
I’ve asked over 30 friends that I’ve accumulated on Twitter to be the conversation starters. (I collect them. Like pet rocks. Not really. They’re cooler than pet rocks). For the next month, they are going to get things started. From parents to pastors to authors to musicians–and from three different continents–I’ve asked them to make ch.com their home. No restraints. I don’t know what they’re going to say, or how frequently. And I’m more than cool with not agreeing with them; I have no desire to control it. Somehow, deep inside of me, I believe this is the best use of this web domain for this season. And I would ask you to be involved. Many of you read but never comment. (Yes, I track stats). A few thousand of you have decided to check in each week. And I’m honored by that. But please: don’t remain silent. Chime in. Talk back to these amazing people. And let them know you’re listening. Then tell your friends.
So for now, no more tweets. No status updates. No posts or comments.
(See you in March)