A Note to Readers
or where have I been?
I am grateful for new subscribers this past year from the kind recommendations of others. I offer my apologies to them for so little content - just seven posts in 2025 compared to two dozen essays in 2024. But perhaps folks prefer it that way. I know I began the new year by unsubscribing from many of the newsletters that flood by inbox. It’s nothing personal, there were just too many. Newsletters are like collectible mugs. The first few are great but after that they just sit there.
What accounts for such a non-creative year on my part? Several factors, some joyful, some sad, some just hard. To begin with the joyful: in May our youngest daughter, Geneva, got married to our new son-in-law, Collin. It was a great privilege to be both father of the bride and the officiant. As you can see below, the theme was pink and we dutifully complied. So that took up a good deal of energy, and I can hardly think of a better reason to not write for awhile.
The wedding itself was in Leesburg, Virginia, largely so that my wife’s step-father, Rich, could attend at his advanced age. Leesburg is also where my wife, Kirstan, grew up and where we were married. I had expected Collin and Geneva to get their license at the same Leesburg courthouse we had. History buffs will know that it briefly hosted the U.S. Constitution when the Brits burned Washington. But the happy couple spotted a courthouse next to a gas station one county over, and well, why not.
Of equally important, but sadder news, was the passing of Rich into glory in late August. We are so grateful he was able to make the wedding where he was the life of the party. I can’t say enough good things about Rich. Born into a blue-collar West Virginia family, he made his way to college via a tour in Vietnam and work in the Civil Rights movement. Let’s just say he had opinions. I loved Rich. We all did.
The service - at the same Methodist church in which Kirstan and I were married - was sweet and Christ-centered. The liturgy was full of the Gospel, as was the message by the pastor, Rev. Jun. Afterwards, Rich was buried next to his first wife in a small African American cemetery he had helped maintain. It was something to see this patriotic Vietnam vet buried alongside former slaves, while presided over by a first-generation immigrant. This is the America I know and love.
But there was more to 2025 than the above two significant events. My physical health continues to be a great challenge. This is not the place to go into detail about that, but in short, I have chronic severe neuropathy caused initially by Lyme disease eight years ago. This past year was especially hard, with a large dose of the accompanying mental health challenges, as you can imagine. Travel is very difficult for me, as are pastoral visits or even sitting in a coffee shop. I am grateful for a patient congregation and for a wife who is nothing less than a superhero in my eyes. She’s incredible.
On top of all this, our church doubled our full time paid staff from two to four, a transition that would be challenging under any circumstances, but trying to manage that while disabled, well, let’s just say it didn’t leave me with much energy for creative writing. It’s been wonderful for our congregation, just a change for me after 21 years here. I am still trying to sort out which cover sheets to use for the TPS reports.
All of that is to say that I hope to write more in 2026, both for my own sake, and for the sake of any readers it may encourage. Here is what I have in mind:
Preaching Maxims. I actually wrote these a couple of summers ago on Twitter of all places. When it was all said and done, I had written ~35,000 words, one tweet a time. A few folks encouraged me to publish them, so I’ve mildly shopped them around a bit and there is still one possibility out there. But they may end up here, 50 at time, say every other week. Stay tuned.
Why Reformed Pastors May Be More Prone to Depression than Others (and what to do about it), 6 parts. Very niche, and hard to write. This is something I have contemplated for years and hope might prove useful to some colleagues.
Potpourri of essays old and new on various topics. I have a few theological essays in the docket. But I especially enjoy writing biographical essays, so we’ll see.
History of Landships. I mostly pen these articles to try to improve my writing and as an escape. I have reached the 1930s with about a dozen more ships in my mind’s eye, from nuclear-powered behemoths to a UNICEF goodwill ship. Alas, despite these being works of alt-history, not a single landship so far as managed to actually alter history, so I am in a bit of a funk about that.
I am aiming for about 3-4 posts a month. If that becomes too much, this account provides a parachute free of charge in the form of the unsubscribe button. Sometimes, less really is more. Jump away as needed!
Here for all of it!
I used to read you regularly on Twitter—an oasis in the desert. Sorry to hear about your challenges, but glad you’re here!