Starting over is both exciting and daunting. For more than a decade I blogged regularly about pastoral ministry and life in the Church. I began writing publicly in seminary and continued through my PhD program and while serving as a full-time pastor.
And then one day I stopped, deleted my blog, and shut down my website.
The decision to stop writing online didn’t come quickly, even though it may have seemed abrupt to my readers. In fact, I’d say it was probably inevitable from the moment I began questioning why I was writing the type of content that I was. I started writing online as a way to process my own thoughts. I didn’t really care who read them. But as my readership grew over time I began to feel pressure to produce certain types of content that appealed to a broader audience. My intent was always to provide writing that others would find helpful to their walk with Jesus, but I began to prioritize the growth of my readership over the authentic outpouring of my heart that had been the start of my blog.
Then one day, as I was praying, I remember hearing a clear question from the Lord. “Are you willing to be nobody for me?” The sudden question shocked me, and my thoughts went immediately to my public writing. I would love to say that my response was, “Of course, Lord!” But the truth is that I began to wrestle with that question in my heart. In a world that emphasizes self-promotion and personal brands, would I really be OK with a life and career of obscurity, if that is what God is calling me to?
It took some time, but after some serious prayer and self-reflection, I placed my future in God’s hands. This event, along with a general dissatisfaction with “always on” culture very quickly resulted in several important changes in my life. First, I quit all social media – something I still maintain to this day. And second, I stopped writing regularly online. I still posted occasionally for several years, but never as a regular habit. When I left full-time pastoral ministry in 2020, I closed down my website and deleted all of my old blog posts, articles, and resources.
I kept writing, of course. I don’t think people who love to write ever really stop. But I’ve spent my time writing for different reasons. I sometimes write fiction for myself, but mostly I’ve stuck with academic writing, which includes research and material for the classes I teach. Until recently, I didn’t have a desire to return to writing online for the general public.
So what’s changed? Really, there are two things.
First, God has continued to work powerfully in my life. As I continue to walk closely with Jesus and seek to follow where he is leading me, I find my desire to be known by others to be less of a concern. I just want to know and be known by Him.
Second, God has given me the tremendous privilege of a life that is caught somewhere in the middle between academia and the rest of the world. Following the completion of my doctorate I’ve had many opportunities to teach, both formally in higher education and informally in the church. I’ve had the opportunity to engage in ecumenical dialogue and writing with scholars across many Wesleyan denominations. I also continue to serve in church leadership and to disciple Christians who are at various stages in their journey with Christ.
I’ve become convinced that one of the biggest concerns hindering Christians from experiencing the abundant life of Jesus for themselves is misaligned theology. In other words, people often do not experience God fully, because they have misconceived expectations about who he is and how he responds to the needs of his people. One thing we need in the modern church is a deeper and more robust theology.
It has also become clear to me that now is the time for me to begin writing publicly again, with the sincere hope that anyone who stumbles across this corner of the internet might encounter God’s grace and mercy in a new way, as we think, pray, and talk together about who God is–Father, Son, and Spirit–and what he both has done and is doing for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus.