Today I had Ross clean the house for me. He owes me some money, so I had him dust and vacuum everything. While he was doing that, I read, and read, and read.
I have a confession to make, the last couple of weeks I've been reading a questioning blog. I know, you are all shocked and horrified, but one of my favorite writers on there is Bruce Nielson, who according to his own comments is an "Orthodox Mormon". He is articulate, thoughtful, and respectful of other's differing views. I have really appreciated his insight and answers to the "let's read The Book of Mormon as an inspired, fictitious, 19th century document" group.
There are others on the blog in question that comment who are believing members of the church. There are links to other blogs and websites that are inspired, 21st century work. I have been linking over to those blogs, and drifting away from the first one. It has made me a happier reader.
Tonight I have read some wonderful, thoughtful literature on Segullah. It made me want to write. I mean really write. Express my thoughts, my stories, in a way that touches people like those stories touched me. They were poignant, honest, heart-wrenching, hopeful and true.
But I am afraid. How do I do it and keep the private things private? There are those stories that are true, but need to be told in a way to protect the individuals in them. Do I tell them in fiction? Do I write under a fake name where strangers can read them, but not those who may recognize the players?
I should ask the authors how they do it. I think I shall. Being lost in Blogland today was a wonderful journey into other's experiences and I came away inspired.
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