I stopped posting for a while. Not because I stopped writing. I didn’t.

But because I wasn’t sure if I should keep writing here.

Much of this blog space holds memories of someone I once built a life with. You’ll see him all over the old posts—in the metaphors, in the photos, in the plural possessive pronouns. 

In the almost five years since, I’ve wanted to return here only to find it, er, awkward. In many ways, the person —or people — so alive in my old writing doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve thought about whether I should take them down or edit them out. But the person who wrote those words was married. And at times, deeply happy. I won’t pretend otherwise. To deny it all would be dishonest.

Still, life shifted. Slowly. Gradually, then all at once.
And while I’m not ready to write about that part of the story today, I do know this: I need to keep writing.

From a different place. Miles away from where I was writing last. So if it feels like we skipped a few chapters, it’s because we have. We’ll call it a time jump. Stick around, and maybe the blanks will be filled along the way.

For now, I’m back.
Still loving Jesus. Still loving stories.
Still here.

Thanks for riding and reading along. Let’s keep going.