This world. This place. This life.

Blogging out loud


I find myself wanting to explain what it’s like to grow up as a conservative Evangelical woman and how difficult the transition into leadership is from that place. . . . We were told to keep silent in church. . . . To go from “you must be silent” to finding your voice can be a long, arduous process.    ––Carol Howard Merritt

With this post, my blog takes a leap forward. This weekend I enabled the setting that will share my posts on my Facebook wall.

It has taken me a long time to find the courage to take this seemingly small step.

When I started blogging, I disguised or omitted details that might help people figure out who “Nagoonberry” was. I felt compelled to write––like ministry, it’s an inescapable calling for me. But I didn’t want to publicly claim Nagoonberry‘s words as my own.

I worried about how my parents would react if they found my blog. They are Plymouth Brethren, and I am a Unitarian Univeralist. They believe in loving the sinner, but hating the sin, and I am the sinner. They worry that I’m going to hell; I don’t believe in hell (other than those we create). Our relationship is complicated and strained, fragile.

I wanted to protect Liesl’s privacy, too. She works in an industry that’s not known for being progressive and open-minded.

Then Kenneth Sutton asked me to freelance for UU World. I could have accepted his invitation while remaining anonymous here.  In the end, it felt more straightforward to let UU World readers know that Nagoonberry was my personal blog.

Liesl has become increasingly comfortable with being part of Nagoonberry, and with being reasonably “out” at work.  I think she believes some version of “those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”

This summer I resolved my fears about my family finding my blog. I’ve finally figured out that in relationships worth having, we share our true selves, not sanitized proxies.

The fears that remain are part of the arduous process Carol Howard Merritt describes. Most writers wrestle with an inner critic who says, “No one wants to hear what you have to say.”  For those of us who grew up with the admonition, “Let your women keep silence in the churches,” the struggle to trust our voices is exponentially more difficult.  Pieces of that history linger, long after we’ve found ourselves in positions of leadership, even after becoming ordained ministers, preaching out loud, in public.

In the end, I decided that writing without intentionally trying to reach an audience is not all that different from sitting in a Plymouth Brethren meeting room, my head covered and my ideas silenced because I am a woman.

So hello, Facebook friends.  I’m Heather Christensen, and I blog at Nagoonberry.


4 thoughts on “Blogging out loud

  1. What a strong, conscientious post, Heather, and so reflective of a long, mindful journey. Though I don’t come from any sort of faith background, I can relate to aspects of the struggle you describe. Two of my childhood’s basic tenets were “Be discreet,” and “Keep a low profile.” It’s challenging enough to try to identify and live as one’s authentic self, but to do so in a public, “bloggy” manner certainly defy that early training!

    I’m inspired by your (and Liesl’s) courage, and am thankful to follow your reflections out here. My good thoughts and best wishes to you both.

  2. Here in Canada it is possible to buy something like a USB key that provides internet access using cell phone signals or similar technology. They cost about $200 and the monthly service fees are about $50.

  3. I assume something similar is possible for us off the Southeast AK coastline, but have deliberately avoided investigating – the opportunity to be “unplugged” for weeks at a time is pretty vital to my well-being. But it’s true that I scramble for harbor internet as soon as the dock lines are tied! 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s