Are you a blogger?
Bless your dear heart, and I pray for the endurance of the Holy God himself to come upon you and persevere to read and write all the things that your head and heart manifest.
If you’re not a blogger, bless your dear heart for reading all the things that my head and heart manifests.
I am a blogger, and I read blogs. In fact, I read so many blogs that I use a blog reader website which compiles all the blogs I follow. I can even sort these blogs into categories and I read these organized categories of blogs daily (shout out to Bloglovin’, haayyyy).
A quick look at my blog reader tells me that I follow 75 blogs on a regular basis. Wow, Andrea! That seems like a lot of blogs! Is that a lot of blogs? Because it seems like a lot of blogs.
I’m not going to lie. It is a lot of blogs.
I read blogs for inspiration, for writing style, for laughs, for news, for recipes, for tips on life, parenting, home design, blogging itself. I read them like some people read crime novels or historical fiction or watch old movies or televised sports. I always loved reading biographies, and because a lot of blogs read like daily bios, I consume them. It doesn’t matter that the person I’m reading about is a stranger. Whether I read about a favorite blogger’s experiences losing a pet or moving to another town, I’m in.
This summer we were blessed to be busy with family vacations, during which I read no blogs. I read books instead. Or nothing, because a person can't torture her children via daily sight-seeing and museum-hopping with her nose in a book.
And in one week my blog reader would collect the blogs I follow, to the tune of oh, I don’t know, over two hundred.
And I was backed up not once or twice, but like three or four times this summer. Backed up on blogs, that is.
There is nothing more disheartening than realizing that you have neglected over 200 opportunities to read your favorite bloggers’ musings. Some are more prolific than others. Those blogs would be glaring at me with ten entries sometimes. On one occasion I closed my eyes and clicked the “Mark all as read” button and started fresh.
On other occasions, like after our last vacation, I dug in and read.
Over 200 blog posts. And they kept coming. So as I was reading two-week-old posts, the new ones were added. Hours and hours of reading. I was a machine.
I read about the first day of school, mammograms, lost pets, grieving, mind dumps, parenting issues, and vacations. Being busy, recipes, sick spouses, continuing education, funny situations, even the process of writing. I read book reviews, stories about personal illness, and a lot of reflective pieces. Because that’s what bloggers do best: reflect.
I had missed it. I missed all those opportunities to read and cry and laugh with my fellow bloggers, those who inspire me every day, who are real people, who are smart and loving and funny. And because I missed the opportunities to read them, I missed opportunities to encourage and tell them “Great post. I really enjoyed reading this.”
Because unlike a book, you can respond to the author of a blog. You can comment on how you appreciated their writing, their humor, their beautiful photos. Which, as a blogger, is important. Most of us are doing this because we love it. Most of us aren’t getting paid for it. Blogging is just you and your computer. It’s nice to know that someone out there appreciates your efforts.
So I read over 200 blog posts. And I continue to read, and respond. It’s important to the writers, the individuals who sit at their lonely computers every day to do this thing that they love.
It’s important to me.