“Open thou my lips, and my mouth shall declare thy praise.” So sang David.
In writing, we open our lips. What happens next may be either turned inward, or turned upward. David chose the latter, and praised.
In this journal, I hope to copy him. I hope to avoid solipsism.
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.” So wrote Paul.
Paul intended for his hearers to do this, even while painfully stooping in a field full of thorns, sweating, itching, with an aching back and scratched and bloody fingers, pulling weeds or removing stones.
In this journal, even if I have to pull weeds or remove stones with my words, I hope to obey Paul at the same time. I hope to avoid cynicism.
I chose Reepicheep as my mascot because, like Reep, I’m small, I’m loyal, I’m slightly too enamored of my own dignity, and, by no innate quality in myself but rather having been taught through necessity, I’m fearless.
My introductory post explains a bit further.
Substack’s instructions for this page are as follows: “This page should explain in detail the benefits of reading your publication.” The only benefits I can imagine are this; if you share my objectives, we should be friends.
