A friend recently told me that my blog is depressing. I guess my frustration with the world comes through, considering all the criticism I have to offer. I hold it near to my heart, like someone might a puppy.
The truth is I am sad much of the time… but that isn’t why I write. I’d like to think that my writing is a celebration of hope. I groan because I believe we can grow. I complain because I relish what the world could be.
Please don’t misunderstand the things I write; behind every criticism is a cheer of expectation, behind each complaint a shout of promise.
I lament optimistically. That’s what bearded people do.