One of the things I love most about blogging is when you get a whole load of hits from people anywhere in the world searching for something, and hopefully finding it, in past posts. Quite a few hits for an Advent Labyrinth I did some years back. I love that.
I haven't given up on you, O blog of mine, but I long for more things to be happening here that I can write about.
It is quite a common idea now to think of ourselves as in exile - all those Psalms of longing and Prophetic words yearning for God's hand to be seen at work once more.
Less popular, though, are the struggles of exile: Daniel, for example, under scrutiny for his diet avoiding food sacrificed to other Gods. Being an exile is costly - keeping the ways of home alive in a foreign land.
Would it be fair to say that most of the time we prefer to live not as exiles, but as expats? We want to be at home in the foreign culture, enjoying all the benefits of that way of life, but relying on the name of the distant King to give us status and protection when we need it? Look at the tangle we find ourselves in over St Paul's and the Occupy protest.
I don't want to be an expat. I want to be an exile.