I am not much of a Tweeter.
And, although I know it’s not a news source, per se, there are times I find Twitter helpful to see what matters to others and, in turn, figure out if it matters to me.
But I am the most befuddled by references to he, she, them, or it in a 280-character comment without a clear antecedent. Too many times I have been taken down rabbit holes that lead to a soccer game or television special or distinctly personal conversation in which I have no interest and for which I definitely have no time. (I know, my bad.)
I wish I were not so captivated by random high-drama tweets that, by tomorrow, will be so much white noise, tethered to nothing of lasting value, and 100% forgettable. Not that I don’t post my share of nonsense on social media. I just don’t like being caught up in it.
The same is true for more serious writing.
We call it “evergreen content.” Although the term is used most often when the writing is designed to draw customers to a website or product, it holds true for almost any kind of published text. Writer Megan Marrs defines it this way:
The evergreen tree is a symbol of perpetual life because they retain their leaves throughout the seasons, rather than shedding. Like the trees, evergreen content is considered sustainable and lasting...[I]t continues to be relevant long past its publication.
Megan Marrs
And, while I try to insert enough levity into these essays to keep your spirits up, most of what I have to say is more serious than entertaining, and more personal than newsworthy.
My goal is to speak in such a way that my words will endure the test of time, no matter the topic, and that my ideas are worthy of your time and, perhaps, the time of your children and theirs. Not that what I have to say is particularly novel or my insights considered wisdom for the ages.
It’s just that I see the world through the written word and writing words, and there is a chance I help you see things differently, find comfort in new ways, or reconsider a position you considered immovable.
I hope that my writing is evergreen.
Even during these past few days (see? vague reference) of national turmoil and anxiety, I have thought about how what is happening now will affect us for years to come – perhaps for generations. I have wondered about how the words captured during historic events sound not only now but how they are received in the future.
Tomorrow, we will watch as Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are sworn in as President and Vice President. The capitol is empty, save for essential workers, a very few invited guests, and the men and women who have sworn to protect and defend what I believe the new administration represents.
I have prayed for days that the strange emptiness will, in part, contribute to a safe transition, that we will be spared what our fears of violence and hatred have imagined, and that we will witness the best and most peaceful event possible.
I have prayed that those who are most unhappy with the outcome of this election will find comfort in God’s words and His plans for tomorrow, whatever they may be.
I have prayed that those most relieved with the outcome of this election will eloquently walk a tightrope of speaking truth to power while living the love of Jesus for everyone.
Given how adamant most citizens were about the process, the integrity, and the outcome of our most recent elections, it’s probably too much to ask that we come together anytime soon. And thank goodness it’s not up to me to resolve the monumental issues that have so markedly divided us.
No, my lovelies, that’s not up to me. But what is? What is my job? Where do I fit it? When should I make a fuss about something? or speak up? or dig my heels in? or give in?
I wrote about that a few years ago and, reflecting on that now, I wanted to share a little piece of it.
I wish I could stop … searching for that specific job, that right place, that important connection. And deep down where it counts, I know the truth.
Nancy Burton Wolfe, What is my job?
*Loving Jesus and loving people is my job.
*Abiding in Him, learning at His feet is my place.
*Talking with Him is my connection.
Truly, deeply I know this. Why it seems so necessary to have worldly answers to these questions, I can’t say.
I’d love it if my writing were evergreen – standing the test of time, “sustainable and lasting, … relevant long past its publication.”
But perhaps more important is that my life is evergreen, ever lovely, ever devoted. It’s more important that I am present, not that I’m right. That I am loving, not that I’m loved. That, to you, I am not just white noise, tethered to nothing of lasting value, and 100% forgettable.
I hope the next few days, weeks, and even months will not throw any of us into a tailspin from which we cannot escape or recover. I pray we will come together, even in the thinnest of possible ways, to seek truth, to recognize the injustices we have witnessed and the justice we need to pursue, and to rebuild the common good, leaving the trash and ugliness behind. I pray we will continue to hold up and speak out for those whose voices are not heard and those whose safety is never assured.
Most of all, I pray that we take good care of each other.
And until we write and read again, I pray for you …
Nancy Burton Wolfe 