A wave of humility separated by a common ocean

In response to my public post of appreciation, Adrian Warnock humbly responds:

But, Gaddabout and anyone else out there for that matter, the whole point of the blogosphere is that ANYONES invited

It is said the United States and England are two countries separated by a common ocean.

And this is true.

Wait, it's two countries separated by a common language. Yes, this is true, as well.

In the blogging world, however, we are all separated by a common audience. Warnock, UK preacher and popular Evangelical blogger, has earned his portion of it. I have not. Warnock writes with authority because he is educated. I attempt to write with authority because I'm foolish and have little better to do.

The whole experience of getting caught up in that "blog shower" was like transitioning from the bleachers to the Indy 500 in my little Nissan Sentra -- after one lap I knew it was prudent to just get out of the way. Perception as a spectator changes once you move into the arena of participants. Those cars prove to be a whole lot faster when you're on the track.

It wasn't the first time I've jumped into a scene where I didn't belong. I've been doing it my whole life.

My father was an animated preacher. I was a typical preacher's kid -- fidgety and not at all impressed with my father's position of authority. In an attempt to correct my misbehavior in church, my father placed me on stage behind the pulpit. That first Sunday I fell asleep in my chair ... upside down, after spinning in it the entire service. My father counteracted me the next Sunday by placing me on a hard, wooden stool. This kept me alert, but I began mimicking his hand gestures, pulpit thumping, and foot stomping in an attempt to amuse myself. I didn't realize I could be seen by the entire congregation. As laughter began to roll across the church, my father turned and saw me in a fully-elongated gesture, eyes closed, matching his stance in mid-sentence.

The segment of tape of that service recorded this: "And David wrote ... [long pause, rustling, sound of knuckle thunking noggin, sound of five-year-old boy reacting]."

In many ways I still feel like that five-year-old boy. I'm not a preacher, but I can play the fool pretending to be one.