Introducing: Introductions

I don't like introductions.  That is, I don't like to read them.  In person or in speeches, they're helpful, informative, and usually quick, but in writing, they drag on so much that I can't take it.  Maybe my college career and the textbooks that went with it are still too fresh on my heels, but pages that somehow require lowercase Roman numerals just make me suspicious.  I've read too many textbooks to trust them, and they make fun books feel like work.  They always lead to a sneaky array of introductions, forewords, prefaces, and who knows what kind of endless books-before-the-book, so I usually skip them.  I suspect most people do this.

Fortunately for me, most people will not be reading my blog, and thus they will not mind that I decided to write an introduction.  I have to admit, despite my bad experiences with them, introductions do have their place, so here goes.  For an explanation of the title, see the link to the right.  I've been wanting to do some writing for a while, to get better at it, and just to organize my thoughts.  Life is exciting and God's work in mine is reality.  I learn better if I pay attention, and what He is teaching me is worth recording.  At this point I don't really have a main theme in mind for my blog, but here I am in writing it, so please bear with my eclectic topics and just general inexperience in blogginess.  I enjoy my random thoughts, and I would enjoy hearing any of yours too!

If you decide to skip my introduction, I will never know and never be offended!  If you read it, thanks, and I will leave you with this thought from a woman looking back at her own life and her own writing.  Like her, I don't want to be so wrapped up in myself that I can't appreciate the things I'm learning, but I want to take seriously the things that shape us and mold our lives.  I found this quote in, yes, an introduction, and it makes me wonder how many gems I've missed in years of introduction avoidance.

"Besides, I have a certain respect for the early efforts of this struggling adolescent, who now seems so many lives removed from the self of today.  I can laugh at her and am often embarrassed by her, but I do not want to betray her.  Let her speak for herself."
Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Bring Me a Unicorn, 1972.