October is a big month of birthdays here at Six Apart: Vox is celebrating its second birthday, while TypePad turns five and MovableType turns 7. Even future blogger-extraordinaire, Penelope Trott, daughter of founders Ben and Mena Trott, turned one year old this month!
Because Vox would be nothing without you, we hope you'll take a moment to share your favorite Vox stories with us. Visit our anniversary page: Celebrating 2 Years of Vox and check out some stories and photos from last year's anniversary. While you're there, submit your favorite Vox memory or meaningful experience. We'll be updating the page all month, so keep checking back to see your story and photos.
You can also share your favorite Vox memories by answering today's Question of the Day.
Vox was created for the people who told us they wanted to connect with family and friends on their own terms. Today, Vox is an amazing community full of passionate people willing to share their stories, photos, and lives. To those of you who have made Vox your home: Thank You.
I sat down to write this almost 30 minutes ago. After talking and thinking about writing, I always think ( as a general rule ) that I ought to practice what I preach. Which is to write in any and all circumstances, and find something workable, something worthwhile in whatever life has presented today. But it has taken me nearly 30 minutes to finish answering texts and phone calls, responding to e-mails, cooking lunch, and doing whatever it is you do on facebook, to finally sit down and actually write something. Even now, I have 4 tabs open in my browser, and a pile of laundry waiting to be put in the wash. The list of things to do is endless. I have a friend coming over in a few minutes. Despite having no class or official work scheduled today, I have several meetings to attend. What makes this life mine? Sometimes my life belongs to what is occupying its time. I'd say that, in general, my life has been pretty occupied by activities involving school, event-planning, work, or friends lately. I've been writing a lot which is good, and I'm not complaining. I wish anyone could enjoy doing what they're doing on a regular basis as I do, and find satisfaction. But as someone who needs to be connected to God in prayer, I have not been living up to my necessary time for devotion.
Devotion is a theme that has haunted my life. Haunted sounds scary. Well, here's why I use that word. I realized early in my years that human beings will be devoted to something, to anything that lets itself be worshiped. It's engrained in our emotional, physical, mental fiber to focus on something, and give it our praise. The heart is the Throne of the Soul. The Seat of Devotion. The scary thing about this, of course, is that "the heart is deceitful above all things." The heart of a person not firmly given up to God may easily be given up to something else. Example. For years I thought that to be loved, I had to be someone that others loved. Let me clarify. I thought I had to be someone else, someone who did a certain thing or looked a certain way. So my devotion ended up being usurped by the false sense of being liked for being this creation of myself, i.e. my image. But in no way did I ever feel truly loved. Why? Because I was not being myself.
Another example is, ( this quite easily lends itself) is drug addiction. Addiction is giving yourself every day to something that is taking your soul's attention away from anything else. It's a giving up of self. Some people are loyally devoted to this cause, even enough to die for it. There's all sorts of devotions. There is devotion to money. We call this greed. There is a devotion to another person. This can be good in a healthy way, but when a person ascends the Throne, they are far too small for its size. They can't be the one to direct and guide every decision and value of one heart. They have their own to worry about. There's devotion to a religion, or a set of laws, which is also dangerous. This can turn into fanaticism, and can lead people, in my opinion, astray from God. It can also cause a lot of serious staining of the Name. There's devotion to charismatic leaders, dangerous. Devotion to oneself, narcissism. Devotion to a cause, good in some cases when that cause is invited to the world by God. Otherwise, it can lead to calamity, and unnecessary divisiveness. All of these require sacrificing oneself.
Christians often talk about "devotion" time. This refers to the "quiet time" we take (or want to take) with God through reading scripture, journaling, praying, singing, whatever it is that we do. I find it sad, for myself at least, that I have to carve out time in my day to go and be with God. Going all the time seems like a sin even if it isn't hurting anyone, even if it seems to be making things better, even if you're reaching out to people and forming good trust and bonds. And then I remember Jesus, which is all devotion really has to be.
Jesus took his time alone because he was constantly mobbed by people asking for his help. Crowds begged him day and night for his healing, for his attention, for him to just look at them or offer his cloak to them. They still do."In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there." Mark 1:35.
There is only one right Lord to sit on the Throne of the Heart. Every other one will be a tyrant, or a sleeper, or a stone idol unable to help you. There is only One power great enough to handle that position. And it is easy to see why, since He made you. The Artist knows best. So give Him credit. I'm saying that to myself of course. It's so important to care for the world and do your best to give of yourself. But there is a moment where only God can be, and you need that moment. I need it too.
Jesus is the example. He did both. He worked and he rested. And in his rest, he focused on God. And in his work, he focused on God.
"In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there." Mark 1:43
"When he saw the crowds, he was deeply moved with compassion for them, because they were troubled and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." Matthew 9:36
How would you like to make a difference in the life of a public school students?
For the second year in a row, Six Apart is participating in the DonorsChoose.org Blogger Challenge. The challenge runs all throughout the month of October, and we'd love for you to participate along with us. Just as we did last year, Six Apart is sponsoring the award for the bloggers who reach the most kids.
The Blogger Challenge is a friendly contest amongst bloggers to raise money for low-income public schools. Here's how it works: teachers from all over the country post items for which they would like funding, such as writing supplies for a journalism class, equipment for a science lab, or music instruments for a band class. Bloggers choose their favorite projects and link to their challenge page in a post or via a giving widget on their blog. The bloggers who raise the most money or reach the most kids will win an award.
Here's how you can participate:
- Go to the Donors Choose Blogger Challenge page and find a blogger's giving list you'd like to support.
or
- Set up your own challenge and let your readers know in a blog post or by installing the widget (it just takes a few clicks).
No matter which way you choose to participate, you should feel incredibly proud of yourself for helping to bring resources to students in struggling classrooms.
Donors Choose will announce the results in early November, and we'll reveal the winners of the Six Apart award for bloggers who reached the most students shortly thereafter.
Are you going to accept the Blogger Challenge? Tell us about it (and link to it) in the comments!
I remember when I saw Julia again, it was like I’d never left. I’d been gone for a year, and lots of time had passed, I’m sure, for both of us. Especially for her, being so young and attentive, soaking up the world into her heart and mind. Growing. I made a point to goto her house when we got to Las Americas because I knew her family, and spent time with her and her sister every weekend for 12 months. And now I was back for a week. Would they be happy to see me? You have to ask yourself these things.
At first she didn’t come to the door. She had been informed that we were doing a Vacation Bible School down the road in the yard of a woman named Margo. HHer mother, who goes up to about my shoulders, was in the separate little room that acted as a kitchen in the front of the property, soaking dishes with something else on the stove. The puppies who had been new borns when I left were now about a foot long each. They were miniatures of their mother, golden haired cocker spaniels with happy faces and a tendency to follow the two little girls anywhere they went. On their lot was a tree and the two-story (an uncommon thing in this neighborhood) house was off to the back. I was standing outside the gate of the house, looking down at their little brother, Eric, who appeared as dirty as any 2 year old can, I guess. The mother was happy to see us, she smiled, her tiny body dressed in a shift skirt and a t-shirt too small for her. The sun had already started to beat down on us, although later, as is normal this time of year, the rain clouds would blot out the sky and there would be thunderstorms all evening. Eric had begun to talk. 6 months ago, he’d been in diapers, new to his feet, falling all over people to give them a hug or a kiss. And the grown up puppies pranced around the yard, itself strew with old food and buzzing flies, the every day for these people.
The sweet little sisters I’d been waiting for finally emerged. I remembered they always had their hair braided special for Saturday Bible Club, my weekly event with them back when I was working there, but neither had her hair done up that day. They greeted me as normal, kissed my cheek. I introduced them to my friends, three or four of us had come from the group to work with the VBS that day. So, I told them, we’re going to go get the rest of the kids. Ok, Pili. And we went. Their little feet are more used to and just basically less intimidated by, the huge brown puddles that have gathered all over the dirt streets. They leap from dirt mound to dirt mound, trying to reach whatever their destination.
Julia and Dulce take turns holding onto my hand, although Jessica later takes over. My hand, who knew, is the place to be. And Julia rattles off about her teacher and her aunts, usually telling me family stories I know any mother wouldn’t want her child to reveal to a person who is practically a stranger. But I don’t mind. I’m just excited that the trust we had when I left is still there, even months later. That isn’t always the case. It’s easy to lose someone in your memory and let them become a dream, or the after-image of a dream. But no, Julia and I were the same pals we were when I left. And trudging over the hills of mud, narrowly avoiding drowning in the rain water pools that lay over ever ditch and dip in the road, her little puppy got its blonde feet soaked in muddy water so that it appeared to have four black booties on. She barely seemed to notice that I’d left, and squeezed my hand the same as always, drawing me closer to her world, and leading me like an expert to the other houses.
I'm sitting in my parent's house now, re-living the memories of past fall (autumn) experiences while looking at old pictures of Bible study at Jackson's Orchard in Bowling Green, Ky. What a nostalgic season fall is. I've said it before, and i'll stick to that opinion. Need to go back to that place.
I was in BG this past weekend to see Redfoot, a band that has gained popularity in the rural Western KY demographic. I like em a lot! Lyrics that make you think, a sound that takes you back to when country music didn't seem so heinous a thing to listen to, and instrumentalists who are just plain cool! I like those guys, and i like their music. So when i heard they were playing at one of my fav venues in BG, i had to be there. So i went, and listened to their cd all the way home.
Tomorrow is another day of retail and making phone calls. If any readers out there know anyone who likes to support missions, let me know! In the meantime, i am making appointment calls and trying to keep my head above water. Sometimes my focus gets blurred and i find myself struggling in the rip-tide of the world. Busyness, money, pleasing people, working hard, blah, blah. I guess i have to remember the God of the current. That any wave that hits me, and any rip-tide that sets me out to sea, was placed there by Him, and to simply give up what control i think i have is best. His thoughts truly are higher, cause this girl can't make much of what little she has. Well that was all the randomness i have for today. Until next time.
Sometimes when Vincente smiles, I look past his tobacco-stained gums, his sun-spotted honey brown skin and can almost see the pearly, trust-me grin of Barack Obama. Maybe it's his thinness and these ascetic cheekbones. Or maybe it's just that he speaks slowly and directly about himself, his opinions. Maybe it's his natural inclination towards fathering.
Vincente is my student at an ESL Institute. He studies English once a week on Saturdays, but he comes in to tutoring (my job) on Fridays. He is an illegal alien, but he is a legal human being because he is alive. His English is advanced, but I encourage him to use it more in conversation.
We meet to talk in one of the windowless, carpeted office rooms in the Institute. We sit opposite each other at a wooden conference table; there is no ventilation in here, and the white walls and low ceilings would close in on us if we weren't already comfortable chatting. We are discussing the documentary I will make of him for one of my classes, mostly about his life story.
Vincente is heroic. He came to the United states in search of a New World. When I ask him how he got here, a corner of his mouth turns up and he answers me in Spanish: "Vine caminando en el desierto." I came walking through the desert. Hero.
He walked for 3 days, alone, on the border with Arizona. Finally, he met up with other men on the same trail and they were picked up by a Coyote, slang for trafficker, who brought them into Tuscon. Vincente explains to me how the Coyote abandoned him at a motel in Tuscon, and how he made his way up to Las Vegas by car and air. In Vegas, his brother-in-law was waiting for him, and got him a plane ticket to New York. Eventually, Vincente came by airplane to LaGuardia International, and began the rigorous search for a place to live and a job to work. In time, he came to New Brunswick, where he now resides. Destiny.
As he speaks, he moves his hands about to illustrate. His thick-skinned fingers are rough and have quarter-sized half-moon scars on them. Maybe these slices came from working too closely with scrap metal. I don't ask.
"What did you bring with you on your trip?" I ask him in Spanish, but tell him I'd like him to respond in English. This is, after all, my job - to teach him English.
"I came with the shirt on my back and my dreams." Obama. I taught him this expression: "The shirt on my back." That means he came with only the clothes he was wearing.
Vincente has the calm of a veteran, weathered by the elements and the unrelenting passage of years. This calm that is not passive, but rather brought about by skill - that means he learned how to cope with death. Vincente misses his family. He thinks about his kids every day, and has not seen his youngest son since he was 6 months old.
Vincente tells me, "Maravillas me han pasado." Miracles have happened to me.
In
Mexico, he had fallen into drugs, beat his wife, rejected his children.
After years of absenteeism, he ended up on the street. As he describes
it, his "nails were grown
out, hair down to here (he shows me with his hands at his shoulders),
dirty, hungry." One morning he saw his teenage daughter, and this other
Vincente, this bearded scoundrel callejero, had spoken with her.
"'Papi,' she said, 'why are you doing this? We want you back.'" He said that was enough for him to find a 12-step program. And he did. He's been clean for 5 years now. He attends Spanish-speaking meetings regularly in New Brunswick.
"Now, when I see some man in the street, and he looks like I did - I don't just see some addict. Veo a Vincente," he says. I see Vincente.
Currently, Vincente works at Styrofoam plates at a factory in Somerset. He does this job from 8:30 in the morning to 8:30 at night. After paying his rent and expenses, he sends the rest home to his family. He's also trying to save.
"How much do you hope to save?" I ask.
"Suficiente," he tells me. "How do you say this? Enough," his brick-colored face as sincere and earnest as a child's. He wants to build his kids a house. He wants what everyone wants. A home. Serenity. Love.
His black eyes sparkle in the dim fluorescent lights of the office. That glow that bounces from his eyes tells me there is some hope yet born from suffering, some confidence yielded from being defeated and getting back up again.
If you're looking for me, I'm now at www.in3rds.com. Please stop in!
The BlogWorld & New Media Expo in Las Vegas on September 20th and 21st is the largest blogging conference in the world and Six Apart, Vox's parent company, will be there in full force. The only question we have is: Will you be joining us?
If so, we hope you'll be sure to attend the opening keynote where Six Apart's CEO, Chris Alden, and VP, Anil Dash, will speak on "The State of the Blogosphere." Considering over 12 million American adults currently maintain a blog, and over 57 million Americans read blogs, we're very curious to find out what they have to say!
There are so many amazing speakers and panels at BlogWorld, we know you'll be incredibly busy, but we'd really love to meet you, so please take time to stop by the Six Apart booth and introduce yourself. While you're there, you can meet other Six Apart Voxers, learn more about our new website, Blogs.com, and get any questions you may have answered.
Are you attending the BlogWorld Expo? Let us know in the comments.
See you in Vegas!
In John 21, the disciples are fishing. Fishermen are funny people. I happen to know at least one pretty well and his passion, among many, is fishing. Whether they catch any or not barely registers as important. Go and be fishing. That's the reason for it: to be fishing.
Some of the lead disciples, the ones who went on to change the face of the world, were fishermen to begin with, fishermen first of seas and then of the world. Peter is one I imagine as a strong, sun-browned man with a hard brow and a bow's arch of a back. From his character I learn that he is blue collar, tough, funny, looking for a fight, the one we see as loyal, the dive-right-in one. I can see him here, the one who rallies up the group, the one who rallies all of us to go and do some activity.
They were together mourning the loss of their Loved One, fearing persecution, huddled undercover. But Peter was ready.
"I'm going out to fish," he said. And everyone else said "Me too."
Here he's gotten everyone out on the Sea of Galilee, and it says they were there an entire night, but caught nothing. At this point, some of them may already have seen Him when he appeared inside a locked room without knocking or when He showed his wounded hands and side to the doubting apostle. But then He was gone again, and no one had heard where to. He was always coming and going, that Jesus.
So when a voice called out, "Have you caught any fish?" no one of the disciples was expecting it to be Jesus. Not one of them though to himself, "Who else would call out 'Friend' to us besides Jesus?"
"Throw your nets to the side, you'll find some fish there," He said. They didn't have to do what He said, they could have just stayed stubbornly still, confused and tired, waking up in the dawn without a blanket. But by this time, maybe, they had begun to trust. By this time, maybe they had begun to listen when their hearts spoke, the inner part of the mind that says, "Do not give up on me." By this time, maybe, they had learned to listen and believe enough to act.
They put their nets down and caught many fish. The command of the unknown Man had been true. They had caught fish. They did what they were told and what He had said would happen had become reality. One of them, who called himself the one that Jesus loved, knew right away.
"It is the Lord," he said, bewildered. Peter, heard this and was sure of it, first by the fact he had trusted, and then by the fact he had seen. He had heard the promise, "There will be fish," and then he saw it come true. There were fish.
"It is the Lord!" Peter thought to himself. And then, the pile of fish didn't even seem so important. The work had been long and hard, but the fish they had really been looking for would only come through the blessing of a promise. The fish didn't seem so important anymore, but the One who had given the fish, the One who had said, "Throw your nets, try again, for now you will have plenty. Because you have done what I said. And I have loved you."
Peter could have waited, rowed along with the rest until they reached the shore, but he was sure it was Jesus. He had it see Jesus! "It is the Lord!" He would swim a sea to get to Him, he would swim to know the One who called him "Friend," to see His face again, to give Him his devotion.
The disciples didn't ask anything like "Who are you?" His presence answers those questions. His love made their hearts completely sure. Sure enough to walk on water, sure enough to travel the world in search of Him again, sure enough to raise the sick and dead, to speak boldly before councils against them, even to go to their own death at the hands of enemies, all in service to the One who was sending them as His Father had sent Him.
Peter swam and swam.
One of my favorite things about working at Six Apart is that it's a company founded by bloggers, for bloggers. As a result, not only do we want to provide bloggers with the best tools (like Vox, TypePad and Movable Type), we're also committed to helping bloggers find a broader audience, and helping readers find the blogs that matter to them. And with over 175,000 new blogs created every single day, this is no easy feat.
Luckily, with the launch of Blogs.com, Six Apart is making it easy for you to find the best blogs on the web. Hand-picked by a team of passionate editors, and organized by the topics that interest you, Blogs.com will help you find blogs on a variety of topics from Life, to Entertainment, to seasonal topics like Student Life. You can also catch up on the latest buzz on the web by reading featured editorials or checking out the top ten lists.
Wondering how you can submit your blog to the Blogs.com editors for consideration? It's easy -- Just fill out this quick form. In the meantime, check out Blogs.com and let us know what you think in the comments.
Thanks for reading!
