Welcome, Higher Calling

It's official. I'm joining the Higher Calling Blog Network. For those of you following my blog already, no worries. Nothing will change. But you might want to hop on over to their reader and see what the fuss is about. It came from The High Calling zine, which is dedicated to folks who see their job and life as their ministry.

That being said, what does this mean for me? Does this mean I feel these pressures to write dynamic posts that wow the public? Of course. Love me, love me. Throw flowers at the stage. (No, sir, I said flowers, not tomatoes. Please put the tomato down.) Does this mean that I have to cut out the silly and lighthearted? That I can't tell you that at this very instant I'm writing this post with an English accent (more of a Julie Andrews proper than Jason Statham street)? Higher Calling is about work and God and theology, isn't it? Does that mean no more stories about my charred dinners?

I don't believe so, no. It all flows together, now, doesn't it? My work of teaching piano and flute lessons, writing, and speaking and my life of laughing and crying and the whole bit. (Take it from someone who was found to randomly break out into song and dance - yes, dance too - at the office. Known for it, actually.) It's all seamless like a fine cloth. I don't mean that you go to work in your pajamas (unless you telecommute or model for JCPenny's catalog) or that you chat with your girlfriends on Tuesday night about profit margins. Well, you might. But what I mean is that it is all to glorify God, and it is all infused with loving the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind and loving your neighbor as yourself.

Now, personally, as a writer, I don't always know where the pen stops and life starts. It's all one and the same. I see something, such as the Porta Potty company named Oui Oui Enterprises and think, now wouldn't Marnie laugh at that. Or see a lonely child and wonder how Itzel would love her. My characters inspire me, and sometimes I think, shouldn't it be the other way around? When I write a post, it's just preparatory for writing about Marnie, who hasn't figured out if she's poking fun at life or if life's poking fun at her.

So lift a glass with me (Shiraz, coffee, chocolate milk, or otherwise). Here's to silliness and laughter and tears and burnt dinners and philosophizing and theologizing and to friends, because the friends I've made this past year in the blogging world have pleasantly surprised me.