Try Not To Laugh. Please.

About six weeks ago, I wrote to Steve Waldman, annoyed with one of his posts. He wrote me back, not annoyed at all in turn, and said that if I'd ever like to discuss moving my blog to Beliefnet, he was open.

(It had been suggested before a couple of years ago, but I declined the offer for various reasons.)

For some reason, this time, I said - sure. I'll think about it. I think I'm open.

And I was. Financial pressures (an unsold house in the Midwest) and lack of an imminent book contract made the possibility more attractive. My husband Michael was pleased.

Then on February 3, Michael died.

Regular readers know what happened. If you don't - just read the four or five entries in the archives for February when they find their way over here, which should be soon.

In that context, the Beliefnet suggestion made even more sense, and became even more important.

So here I am. Here we are - together.

Some brief points before we get rolling:

This blog will hearken back to the Open Book days. I will be blogging frequently and on a wider variety of topics than I did at Charlotte.  But even then - please don't take a lack of blog posts on any particular topic as a sign of disinterest or avoidance.  I blog on topics about which I have some understanding and on which I have an interest in reading comments.  I also refrain from blogging on topics about which every other blogger on the known Internet is feverishly posting, unless I have a spectacularly unique insight. Hah.

If you want to know the scope of what will happen here - take a look at the categories over there on the right. If you want to know a bit more about me, take a look at the bio.  Beliefnet is my primary job right now, but when more of  the personal business that descends at times like this is taken care of,  will be returning to the novel I started last year and, I hope, finishing it. Publishing? Well, there's a challenge for you. We'll see.

Most posts will have comments and comments will, at least at first, be moderated.  It's just for my sanity right now.

I've been blogging for a ridiculous, almost embarrassing length of time, and I have a strong view of what's good and what's bad in commenting - that is, what I'd like to see in commenting on this site. Forgive the teacherish tone.  But here's what to watch out for:

There are a few other discussions on matters religious, political and cultural out there. A few.

 Can we try not to repeat them all here? Please?

Anyone with any experience of following internet discussions can generally predict the course of an argument from the tenth comment on.  Dull and repetitive discourse follows, often involving terms like "flying spaghetti monster," "Romish" and (of course) "Nazi." You get my drift. If those or other thoroughly predictable routines are your schtick - don't bother.

Please don't assume that those you consider your opponents in discussion have never before your arguments.   In other words - theists have, indeed, considered the existence of evil, the great varieties in religious experience and the sad occasions when believers use religion for despicable ends.  Catholics have noticed that the Assumption of Mary is not explicitly mentioned in the Bible.  Believers in God have noticed that the universe does, indeed seem rather large and mysterious.

Straw men, straw women, straw villages - burn 'em.  I'm fond of evidence to support arguments and assertions.

Don't assume anything about my motives or thinking. There's nothing that sends me into a rage faster than someone misstating my views.  If you've never before encountered my blogging or writing, hold your fire before you toss off an assumption-laden comment about what I surely must believe because I'm a theist, Catholic, almost fifty, a mother, living in Alabama...or whatever.  Assume nothing.

If you have a question about my personal life or have what you think is helpful advice for me - email me. Don't put it in the comments box. Please.

Comments can be the worst part of blogs - or the best. I have no doubt that there have been times in my blogging life when people have returned to my blog more for the comments than for my pseudo-wisdom. Even now, I am occasionally asked, "Hey, where's Old Zhou from Open Book?" I'd like to return to those days.

Commenters doing a blogger's  work for her = Win.

This is not going to be a grief-centered blog, although I will post reflective of that reality which accompanies me now, a reality which has brought grace, a void, confusion,  spiritual growth,  but still generally sucks, I can say that  a month to the day on which my husband died.

I'm still mulling over some regular features. As this first week unfolds I'll commit to some, beginning with the next post - the very popular and (to me) fascinating, What did you see and hear?  post which will grace this space every Monday.  Or, Tuesday, in this case - look for that later today.

I'm not going to predict what this blog will be like. I've learned not to try to predict anything of late.  My goal is to make it newsy, meditative and ...well..unpredictable.  Like life.

Let's just say that if you can imagine a day - the same day - in which you experience a breath of grace through the voice of a child, the cool hand of an elderly priest, gently laid on yours as you pour out regrets and questions, and then the plaintive voice of Lucinda Williams singing in a darkened theater those same regrets and questions that your heart has been crying for a month now...

...welcome.



Abbey of Gethsemani, Kentucky. Taken by Michael Dubruiel.