A couple of friends today expressed bogglement at the amount of content I post online: not just memes and links and stuff, but essays and sermons and reflections and adventure logs. They think I'm online all the time.
Actually, I'm online less than many people are on their phones. (I don't have a smartphone, just a laptop.) And I remember when I started blogging in January, 2005; I couldn't imagine finding something to say on a regular basis.
But the thing is this. I have always had a rackety brain. It goes all the time. I am thinking about things, planning how to express myself, even arguing with imaginary interlocutors -- not to mention, praying -- constantly. This goes along with my learning style, which is: I don't know what I know until I've expressed it, explained it either in writing or speech, turned it over in my mind to figure out how I feel about it.
The internet has turned into another opportunity to teach the faith, to connect with colleagues and parishioners, to do ministry.
It's also a place for working out ideas. And sharing jokes. I'm really not online all the time; I just keep checking in throughout the day. And then it's out for another bunch of meetings, calls, errands, chores, play. Places to go, people to see. Thoughts to think.
And here's the scary thought: You have no idea how much I'm holding back.