Starting Over 2026–present

I'm rebuilding as a single father in a new church family, and I'm finding that God hasn't let go of me even though so much else has.

The Reckoning 2025–2026

After a brain tumor, a failing marriage, and a divorce I never wanted, I finally stopped pretending the formula I'd followed for twenty years had worked.

The Long Grind 2020–2022

COVID, a stressful leadership job, and a slow unraveling I couldn't quite name yet wore me down until I finally had to admit I was running on empty.

Gainesville and the Plant 2016–2019

We moved across the country to help plant a church, and I spent these years learning that ministry, marriage, and my own faith were all a lot messier than I expected them to be.

The Shape of It

In dendroclimatology, a tree's rings hold a record: their width shows years of rain or drought, and dark scarring shows old fires the tree lived through. Mine works the same way.

20172026

Each ring is a year, 2017 to now. Width is how much I wrote that year, not how much happened in it — the thin band around 2023 is real; I didn't write anything those two years. Each dot is a post. Hover one, or tap it to read.

Or take the whole thing with you: the collected writings, as one PDF (154 pages, 1 MB).