Okay, so the longer my children sleep, the more I get to think about this. [Sidenote: The new yummy discovery of the day is a milkshake made with half chocolate ice cream and half coffee ice cream.] What a delightfully long train of thought! I was just remembering that when I started this blog, I was feeling really censored and silenced in the church and it made a difference to have a place to say, This isn't true. That isn't right. And at the end of the day, These actions are not love. Through the blogosphere, I found other women who wanted to have this new conversation. We all knew the old scripts by heart, had danced in the line, but felt this improvisational itch in our feet and were dying to see where it would lead.
But something happened. The blogosphere stopped being safe. It feels like the new conversation went underground again, where it still lives in private e-mails and conversations, or small retreats. But I'm back to looking in from some outside place, missing the days when we could weave our stories together and then discover some larger truth. I also miss the days when I was willing to dream about what might be possible for the community of believers--before I had given myself completely over to resignation. I'm not innocent of being a conversation-stopper. I wanted to give my heart a break, and I believed with time it would mend. Now, let's just say, I'm not so sure.