Welcome to Big Old Goofy World . . . a place where I can share my thoughts, hopes, and dreams about this rock that we live on and call home.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

To Begin . . .

There's a big old goofy man

Dancing with a big old goofy girl
Ooh baby
It's a big old goofy world



I am an introvert by design and birth.  As an introvert I value my privacy and my own little world in which I exist, but I live in a world inhabited by extroverts with inquiring minds.  My daughter has been urging me for over a year now to write a blog and I have considered this challenge for quite some time. It takes a lot for an introvert to throw him or herself out into the world to express his or her thoughts, hopes, and dreams--well, at least until he or she gets to know everyone.  Watch out once an introvert gets to know everyone and feels comfortable--you can't shut them up!  After much thought and discernment I have decided to jump in with the other millions of bloggers out there in cyberspace and begin blogging.

The title of this blog comes from the chorus of one of my favorite singer/songwriters--John Prine--and his song It's a Big Old Goofy World.  I have always enjoyed and marveled at the way John Prine views the world and expresses it in his music.  He is right, it is a big old goofy world in which we live in.  I really do not think that many of us could argue that it is not--take a look around and tell me that it is not.  And, yet, it is the world that God has given us to exist in with all of its good and bad points, all of it tears and laughter, and all of its irony.  Like John Prine I cannot help but to observe from my introverted little piece of the world how goofy things seem.

My goal with this blog is to share how I see the world--its highs, lows and points in between. I am sure that there will be those who agree or disagree with what I share--and that is okay.  Either way, it is more important to create dialogue and understanding so that a relationship may be born in which we all strive to save this big old goofy world.  If we cannot work together . . . well, where is the hope for this rock we call home?

So, I begin . . .