Happy New Year

Happy new year, all.

I don't want to promise much writing this year, but I will try to write more than last year. The trend of Twitter and Facebook status updates have left me wondering what happens to the art of writing, you know, the struggle and joy of built-out thoughts, arguments and stories that have beginnings, middles and ends. I like Twitter and Facebook still, albeit much less than before, and I think there's value in short/quick updates when that's all you need. One can say a lot in 140 characters or less.

But - gosh - I do like a sweet prose like this one I read this morning, a short paragraph from Frederick Buechner's Magnificent Defeat:

As far as the hill where the three shadows fall and the women stand weeping beside them, only weeping not because we are to be crucified with him but because we are not to be crucified, because we guess in advance that we lack the courage unto death yet go on anyway, as far as we can, and maybe our shame, our regret, is crucifixion enough.

I like the power it has to move me. I like reading a well written paragraph or chapter that flows from one point to the other, one that ends in a different place from where it starts and leaves you in this mysterious high place. I like that it held my breath for the entire thing. I like a good cadence.

If you're still reading, then maybe you do too. Grace and peace.