I'm not big into blogging. I have one blog that I follow
semi-religiously and occasionally, when I have the time, I'll skim through the
blogs of some good friends just for fun. Just like every other loyal
"Pinterest-er," I'll skim through blogs for cute free downloads or
fun diy projects, but I'm not big into blogging.
I never thought I'd want to write my own blog. Although I feel I have a rather solid grasp of the English language, I never thought I was witty or poetic enough for anyone to want to read what I had to say. Never mind the fact that, for the most part, nothing ever really exciting happens to me. All of the big events in my/our lives get posted, with Instagram pictures to match, all over Facebook for anyone who cares to see. Why should I recreate all those memories in a blog that only a handful of people might take the time to enjoy?
So... why am I here? What persuaded me to start said blog? The answer is in the name. "My Ebenezer." According to Mirriam Webster, "ebenezer" comes from the Hebrew "ebhen hā- 'ezer" which means "stone of help." I realized that there were many moments, thoughts, feelings that I have experienced over the past few years that haven't been posted on Facebook because it's not exactly appropriate or they were things I didn't care to share with all 500 of my friends, most of which are merely causal acquaintances. For all the things that it is, Facebook is not exactly the best vehicle for baring one's soul, sharing one's deepest thoughts and fears. I realized I needed a place to record my experiences, my thoughts, my memories so that I could go back, after several months, weeks, days... perhaps even hours, and remember where I was, where I was headed, and how those experiences and my reactions got me there.
I also wanted a place
to record those memorable times in my children’s lives. Each one of them has
such a unique story and I don't want to forget a single detail. Each one
gives testament to God's love and His greater plan in their lives.
Someday I want to be able to share those amazing stories with them
so they will know that they have a Heavenly Father that loves them, and was
preparing the way for them long before they were ever conceived.
In Joshua 4, when the Israelites crossed the Jordan into the promised land, God told them to make a monument of twelve stones. In the future, when the Israelite children saw this altar of twelve large stones and asked their parents about it, the Israelites were to tell them the story of how God had miraculously stopped the river, which was at flood stage, so that His children could cross on dry ground into the land He had promised. The rocks were to be a memorial of the great things their God had done. Again in 1 Samuel 7, when the Israelites were being attacked by their mortal enemies the Philistines, God stepped in to save them with a supernatural thunder that confused and terrified their enemy and gave them the victory. Samuel, the Israelite priest set up a stone to remind the Israelites of the awesome way God had saved them. It was to be their Ebenezer, their stone of help, a reminder of His goodness to them.
It was by complete coincidence that I finally found the time to write this post on September 11th. A day that will live in infamy. A day most Americans will never forget. My Facebook newsfeed has been flooded with pictures and quotes from that tragic day. A sign that more than a decade later that day is still etched on our minds and hearts with a profoundness that has not faded much with time. Two years ago, the city of New York opened the National September 11 Memorial... an approximately nine-acre monument dedicated to the victims and the heroes who lost their lives on that horrific day.
Now a blog isn't as picturesque or prominent as a giant pile of stones or two-acre wide reflection pools in downtown Manhattan, but when my children ask me about their stories or how our family came to be, I want to be able to point back to the Jordan rivers of our lives and tell them how God stepped in and did the miraculous.
So this why I started a blog. I don't know if I will finish it. I
don't know if I'll ever share it anyone other than my husband
and children. But for now it's a place to me to come and remember so
I won't forget. It will be my Ebenezer.
