Sarah Bessey writes at Emerging Mummy where she has become an accidental grassroots voice for postmodern and emerging women in the Church on issues from mothering to politics and theology to ecclesiology. Her writing has been well received in many publications including Church Leaders, Relevant Magazine, A Deeper Story, SheLoves Magazine, and Emergent Village. Sarah also works with Mercy Ministries of Canada, a non-profit residential home for women seeking freedom from life-controlling issues. She is a happy-clappy follower of Jesus and social justice wannabe. Sarah lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia, Canada with her husband, Brian, and their three tinies: Anne, Joseph and Evelynn
Hey, everyone! Lisa, here.
I’m happy to include a lovely person, champ blogger, and Canadian beauty– the one, the only: Sarah Bessey. I could tell you that I love Sarah and that I love reading her blog, but then you would just think, “Duh? Who doesn’t, Stupid?!”
Yesterday, she had a gracious response to the flap about under-represented female bloggers by posting her own list, which you can check out with her handy dandy button (link):
So, I’ll just use this valuable spot, after the 50 Button and before the letter from Sarah (yes, it’s beachfront property, baby) to encourage you to sign on for RSS or email updates for continued awesomeness. Lots of great writers are my splendid guest contributors ( a.k.a Series #4Bloggers ). My first ebook comes out May 1 “Soul Care for Creators and Communicators”. It’s free (until NOV 2012) if you sign up for it here. (It too is part of the awesomeness. More on that in the coming days and weeks)
And now, enjoy!
FROM SARAH
Dear Blogger:
There are so many ways to be a better blogger, to increase your traffic, to maximize your SEO, to make money.
I practice almost none of them.
After nearly 8 years of writing my life out online, I’ve made almost every mistake one can make. I’ve learned the hard way to write angry, but publish when I’ve calmed down. I’ve received my fair share of angry criticism and lavish praise. I’ve been convinced that I’m God’s gift to the blogosphere and, usually within a few moments, pretty sure that my blog is an abomination upon the earth. And I discovered that what is good for the Google analytics isn’t always good for my soul.
In the midst of the reactionary, often inflammatory, competitive, over-saturated, addictive world of online writing, I repeat to myself, “Remember who you are, Sarah.”
That simple phrase has helped me decide what to write and what to publish, what to leave to other bloggers. It’s helped me focus my content, reconcile my values with my work, make decisions about blog growth tactics, advertising opportunities, networking or relationships. It’s helped me not to crash into despair when someone emails with harsh criticism or fries me up in their own blog post as a “response” served with chips. And it’s also helped me not to get too full of myself when praised, I’m very well aware of who I am and, as every one that knows me in real life can attest, I’m disgustingly normal with flaws and frustrations.
But even beyond the world of blogging, that phrase has helped me make decisions about my priorities and values. It’s helped me to shut the computer down most days, to go outside with my tinies, to make space for spiritual disciplines like silence and secrecy, to make cookies instead of nasty comments. It’s helped me to engage in the hard work of real, skin-on community, to put my physical hands to justice and mercy, to rock my babies to sleep.
“Remember who you are” means remembering that I’m more than a blogger. I’m Brian’s wife. I’m Anne and Joseph and Evelynn’s mummy. I’m my parents’ daughter, my sister’s best friend. I’m Auntie-Mama to my little nieces. I’m someone who would rather eat popcorn for supper.
And beyond all that, it helps me remember: I walk in the ways of Jesus. I am a peace maker. I am committed to speaking Love as my first language. I am an advocate for Mercy. I am a grace-receiver, a forgiver, a woman after God’s own heart.
So my friend, remember who are. In the midst of the blogging, beyond the blogging, and through it all, remember this: you are loved, you are loved, you are loved.
A fellow student of mine is Haitian. Though he lives in Pennsylvania, his whole family lives in Haiti. I contacted him directly to see if he had any ideas about how to help. Below is my initial email, followed by his response. His confidence in God is awing. Stay tuned for future posts on how to help Haiti, in ways that make a real difference. (Leave feedback, if you’d like.)
(from me)
Greetings Brother,
We’ve had a few classes together, and Ellis mentioned that you may be
one to ask about how some of us, or ETS could be of assistance during
this time of calamity in Haiti. Your family, and your country are in
our prayers. I hope we might be a blessing in a tangible way to those
who are suffering.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Thank you.
Lisa DeLay
(from Chezaire)
Dear Brothers and sisters,
Thank you for your emails, I truly appreciate them and they give a sense of comfort that my familiy and I are in your prayers. My brother works at the epicenter of the earthquake, was he at work that day is still unkown? The area where he lives with his family is completely crumbled, and another brother was visiting, and I don’t know if he was in town or left that day. I have over a dozen of cousins in that city with their families, only one is acounted for with a broken leg. I am still praying and hoping some sorts of good news to come my way. I was in contact with that cousin’s mother, and encouraged her to give God praise for that son with a broken leg because as bad are things in Haiti, it could have been worse.
In time like this, we need to keep our heads in place, and keep our emotions in check while we have the desires to help.
Several people have asked me how to help. For now I can’t tell, I don’t really know my people’s needs except for being rescued, having medical care, water and food. I beleive in the power of the Holy Spirit, continue to pray, I am sure He will dictate us what to do.
