Domain Mapping

August 13, 2012 Rev. Marie Noelle Duquette Observations One comment

I’ve been getting this message for a couple of months that says my Domain Mapping needs to be renewed by August 24th or I’ll no longer have access to this blog and the website that bears my play-on-my-name: marinawell.com. At the same time, WordPress has sent me encouragements that I’m almost to my two-year goal of writing 65 posts. I hit it with my last post, Coasting. I was surprised at how good it felt to hit that number.

It’s not a LOT of money to renew this domain: $26; but it’s an odd thing to think about paying for on an already tight budget.

So in trying to decide if it’s worth it, I asked myself: what do YOU enjoy about maintaining, however sporadically, Take Off Your Shoes?

And the first thing that came to mind was…YOU! Blogging is a strange unstated-but-understood agreement between the one who writes and her readers.

When I started Take Off Your Shoes two years ago on August 24th, I had no idea what a life-sustaining experience it would be.

Your comments online and off have encouraged me.

Your dedication to actually reading my posts surprises and delights.

Your willingness to go with me to wherever the muse leads me is freeing.

It’s an interesting phrase: Domain (I think of a place one sorta lives); mapping (how you get to that place).

So you’ve been finding me where I live, online, baring my soul at times, making connections like a revealing dot-to-dot drawing.

And you’ve needed this map to find me.

Heck, all too often, I’ve needed the map to find me!

At any rate, I suspect I’ll pony up and live at marinawell.com at least another year.

Happy Anniversary to us. A writer and her readers.

It is so good to have you in my life.

Marinawell

One comment

1 R says:

August 14, 2012 at 6:16 am

This is a must do for you. Take off your shoes. And stay awhile.

LikeLike

Comments are closed.

Rev. Marie Noelle Duquette

I notice connections between people, events, movies, music, writings, the spoken word, that seem independent of one another. I write and speak about these connections because I have been created for this work and it has the potential to draw people together and transform rough places into plains of peace. I am a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America; a writer whose muse is active and insistent; a lover of new experiences; a dreamer of old. I am fueled by both music and silence; I appreciate truths that can only be conveyed in whispers, if in any language at all. I have more friends than I deserve, a big fat french family I adore, and a lovely apartment with a fireplace in front of which I am now leading virtual worship. My most palpable experience of God's presence took place in a chapel in Children's Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. In that place, where every great world religion was depicted by both name and symbol, a miracle took shape in 2005 that continues to inform my faith today. I believe the key to world peace is our willingness to understand one another and take the risks required to do that. My two sons are some of God's finest work; they are a blessing to me and to the world. I thank God for every single day of this wonder we know as life. And I thank you, for stopping by to take off your shoes and step into the shoes of those whose stories I am privileged to tell.