Apparently, I'm terrible at blogging.

At least blogging regularly.

Part of it of course is the first year of adjusting to having another little one. And a new dog. And a new job and new schedule for K. And what I now know is an inevitable postpartum flare that took a long time to shake off.

And part of it is looking at the blogs I follow. They're all incredibly good photographers who spend a fair bit of time documenting their day to day lives, and every post is gorgeous.

(I did not take any of these pictures. They're all the work of my amazing sister-in-law, Christy.)

But that's the problem right there, isn't it. One of my favorite quotes is "Comparison is the thief of joy". I have often thought of several essays I would like to post, but I've never written them out of a fear that they won't look, sound, be as good as others. So I rob myself of the joy of having created something.

Comparison has become the bedrock of our culture, I'm sorry to say. Advertising thrives on comparison in order to create the desire for more things. A twenty-four hour news cycle holds up fearful images of how other people live and act in order to feed fear and envy.

It's not that there aren't real horrors out there. There are and always have been. But when someone is making money off of showing them to us, you can bet the image is distorted.

What saddens me the most, however, is the way in which blogs have brought this phenomenon into Christian life. We are commanded explicitly not to do this, to look at the log in our own eye before the mote in our brothers'.

That doesn't mean we toss out our brains or make a vice out of discernment. Instead, I think it's better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. To build instead of tear down. To take your own corner and make it grow as best you can.

To create, for the inherent Good of creation, and to make beauty wherever it will blossom.

And smile, whenever you can.