But before I get into all that: a little story! While on that mission trip to Belize this past summer, summarily chronicled here, we had a chance on the Sunday prior to camp to do some cave tubing. Back when I was in high school I'd been a pretty avid spelunker with my local parks and rec, so the chance to view bats and cavernous rock formations while lying prone in an inner tube = chocolate and peanut butter, basically. And it was all sorts of awesome, from our hunky guide Edwin to the sweet-smelling allspice trees to the grand finale, which was a chance to jump to our certain deaths from a rock outcropping into the murky shallows beneath.
OK, it was a well-loved jumping place into water certainly deep enough to suggest at least the appearance of safety, but since I'm a crappy swimmer and have only jumped off the side of a pool maybe three times in my entire life, I passed. I passed because I was scared. I passed because I was being smart, and I don't regret doing that.
Almost one exact year to the date I wrote this post, this blog has been accepted to be a part of The Christian Century's blog network, CC Blogs. This is exciting and an honor and I AM THRILLED, but maintaining my anonymity here would preclude the inclusion of any of my posts for highlighting on the main website. Passing on this might be safe and comfortable, but I'd rather take a risk on this one. So: TA DA!!!!
HERE I AM!!!!
There are pictures of me all over this blog-- this is nothing special. EXCEPT HEY LOOK! Pumpkin grin.
My name is Martha-Lynn, and I'm a 34 year old stay-at-home mother (currently looking for employment!) just trying to figure out God's will for my life, one peanut butter cup at a time.
Damn you, Halloween.
Honestly, about 99% of my current readership knows who I am, and I've been more open about things recently by posting a couple of entries on Facebook. This is just part of a natural progression.
So: If you go back and wonder who the hell this Cary Milkweed person is or was, it's me. And always will be, in a sentimental sense. That's been my pseudonym of choice since the days of writing anonymous zines in high school, and there's no way I could possibly stop calling my husband Mr. Milkweed here. Old habits, and all that.
Further, I'm inspired by an atheist blogger I really enjoy, who blogs here under her real name, to just rip down the curtain entirely. I'm proud of my blog and hope people enjoy it, and I I'm OK with putting my name on it.
I guess.
*opens another peanut butter cup*
I'll get there, anyway.
5 comments:
Huzzah! Couldn't have happened to a better person, M-L. I'm so proud.
Yay!!! For a second I was scared you were going to stop blogging altogether and that made me sad. But now I'm even more thrilled!!
You go, girl! Love it :) It's funny--I think I'm moving in the opposite direction when it comes to blogging. I want my Internet presence to be more anonymous (have been moving that way for several years), and in the pursuit of that anonymity, I've practically stopped blogging altogether. I do sometimes miss that "voice" that blogging gave me, but honestly, putting myself out there in actual public scares me more the older I get. I do feel like I need some kind of writing outlet these days, though, so I just might start a new blog one of these days that's totally nameless. We'll see how that goes.
Erin: SCARY. Yes. Yes, there's that. I try not to think about it, as much as possible. On the flip side of the fear is some happiness that any kind of proclamation of the greatness of Christ might have my name on it, because I feel driven to write and especially driven to write about that. It's not a replacement for the Great Commission, since I fully believe conversation and dialogue are the best ways to transmit the Gospel, but writing can be a method of powerful witness.
That being said, it is definitely better to write anonymously than not write at all, and I really hope you feel moved to get back to it! I've liked your stuff in every permutation.
Wendy, I'm excited that you're excited!!! YAY EXCITEMENT!!!! :) :) :)
Oh, and Alice, HUGE HUGS to you. Your faith in me (and in general!) is humbling.
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