This Internet is such a strange thing. I read about and care about people I have never met. I know their intimate thoughts, the names of their children, their hopes, their dreams.
Yet, I wouldn't recognize half of them if I walked right past them.
Paul doesn't understand why I'm invested in the lives of "strangers." Well, they aren't strangers. Anymore.
I'm working through my feelings about how much I let myself care about other people's pain. I absorb it and it affects my relationships.
For example, I've been following MckMama's son and his struggle with SVT. It's too lengthy to go into detail, and if you read her blog, you certainly won't be the only one.
And today, when she posted that his surgery was successful, I cried tears of joy. I've been praying for this little boy, and continue to do so.
Yet, throughout the day, as I walked through the hours with my own, very real children, I was short-tempered, stressed. I was worried about a child I have never met, and was impatient with my own flesh and blood.
Is that messed up?
I know that I care about lots of people now, because I read their stories. I hope that people likewise care about my family and my own journey.
Yet, what is the boundry? When does the virtual life disrupt the real life?
I welcome your thoughts.