What if everything people knew about you they learned from Twitter (or Facebook or whatever social network du jour)?



The verdict was rendered and the people went mad–

those who agreed, a time to dance,

those who did not, a time to raise angry fists,

and all the while Rodney King's haunt strummed my ear softly, "Can we all get along?" and I wonder Can we all get along?   I'm resigned, doubt-filled, spirit-grieved…not in this world, I think, not in my life.

But that will never stop me from trying. 

I won't make much of a ripple in the big, wide world, but I'll crash waves in my tiny corner.  Which means sometimes banging my head against concrete.

It doesn't make a difference at the time, but it is quite a spectacle…a show of conviction?  Maybe an impression will be formed now that changes the future later.

I have a dream.  He had a dream.

Most of us sit in the Court of Public Opinion, and it's loud, proud but mostly ill-informed.  How can we be so certain about things we can't possibly know?  Insanity.  Skewed perception casts nets of judgment and what does it catch?

A mess of slippery fish.



Sometimes I talk crazy.




Sometimes life takes a hard turn, the kind that splinters your heart into a thousand fragments.  No, I don't think you can actually count them. 

So what do you do then? 

What you do next tells your tiny corner (and sometimes the big, wide world) who you are. 



I'm on Twitter, one of about 500 million users.  That's about the size of the European Union, all of it.  Holyhell that's a lot of people.

If you judged me by what I say on Twitter, you wouldn't think much I'm afraid, especially not these days.  I link to blog posts, mine and others.  Sometimes I haiku (I like those best).  Sometimes I share great quotes or Ancient Words and sometimes I share affiliate links.  Not because I'm trying to make a boatload of money (bwahahaha) but because hosting a blog does, in fact, cost something…and it helps fund causes of greater importance than a blog.

I'm not currently trying to build a platform or polish my brand (both of which make me wanna throw up a little), though if I'm honest, both have been goals in the past.  Sometimes I connect with friends I've made online or off, and it's always great fun to read Twitter during Television Events of No Significance Whatsoever (Downton Abbey, Madmen, and I'm quite ashamed to admit, The Bachelorette).

The other day I stumbled across Sybrina Fulton's Twitter stream and I was astonished, what with the little I know from public opinion courts and all. 

What is 100% certain is she's a mother whose son is dead, killed by a gun in the hand of another man.

Her tweets tell a story of restraint, resolve, peace, grace, strength, love and reliance of God.

Amazing what 140 characters can say about a person.



Twitter is the only way I know Sybrina Fulton.  I'm taking extreme liberty with the word know, of course, using it in the broadest sense possible. 

When I scrolled down her tweets, I immediately thought about Rachel Held Evans; it was she who introduced me to eshet chayil.

Woman of valor. 



If, in life, Sybrina Fulton is who she reflects on Twitter, then eshet chayil is fitting. 

If, in life, you are who you reflect on Twitter, what can be said of you?

* * *

If, in life, I am who I reflect on Twitter, then Lord help me.

~ tiny smile ~


Image credit

Pin It on Pinterest