I don’t know how long I sat in front of my computer, trying to figure out how to begin this final post. The only thing that seems appropriate is to begin by thanking you.
For giving me your time.
For sharing with me your thoughts.
For putting up with me when I have been wrong.
I have been so humbled by all of the time you have shared with me.
There is a season for all things, and it is hard for me to believe that I have kept this season going, kept this torch lit for seven years. My life is in a very different place than it was seven years ago. Blogging itself is very different. Seven years ago, I secretly started a blog, on a whim, and didn’t even tell my wife for a month. I didn’t want to tell her if I was just going to quit.
Today, I am several years into a teaching career that I love. I have a wide vision for the program I am building. I am getting my feet wet in a new church and look forward to a new chapter in my ministry life. I am a dad to a child for whom Cheri and I prayed for years. And I have many other ambitions and projects, decades worth of work, that I want to accomplish. When I started writing, none of this existed.
Blogging has been a fruitful pastime for me. It brought me two books. It helped me find out how to stop my snoring with this. I was listed among the most widely read Christian bloggers by Church Relevance and The Progressive Christian. I got to travel to Africa. And I met, in person and online, many insightful, gifted writers, whom I admired. Cheri and I were invited into the homes of readers when we traveled. It is for all of these reasons that I have found it hard to say good-bye to this chapter.
But I add up the things I now do, and the things I wish to do, and it is clear that the time has come. I am supposed to be a teacher. I am supposed to be a leader. I am supposed to help when disaster strikes. I am supposed to be a dad and husband. But right now, I am not supposed to be a writer, at least not in this capacity.
I leave this chapter, this platform, with mixed feelings. On the one hand, am not so sure that the world or the church has improved in seven years. I am not certain that all of our words, our social media, our memes and quotes has accomplished what we have hoped for. Next week, I will almost certainly have thoughts and feelings about the goings-on in the world, but I do not feel that my first and best efforts should be dedicated to sharing those feelings publicly.
On the other hand, while I may sometimes be cynical, anxious or fearful about the state of the world, I am eternally optimistic about the Church (capital C). As Screwtape told his nephew, we humans cannot see the Church as the Enemy sees it. We see the human edifice, the petty ideas, the big show, all of which is destined to go as chaff. But Christ’s Church is his Bride, and it is eternal. We may be living in a cultural and spiritual slump in this generation. But the flame of the Church, however stifled, however faint, will never die out.
On that note, I leave you, friends, brothers, sisters. I give you my most humble and heartfelt thanks for the time you have shared with me. May you feel all the grace and love of Jesus in your lives.