There comes a time to walk away.
Like, perhaps . . . now.
When I was in graduate school, one of my fellow students was (as are most graduate students), let’s just say a bit full of himself. In one of our seminars, he leaned back in his seat, looked at the professor, and said, “Dr. Christian, how does one become a well-established author?”
Dr. C started just a bit and then grinned.
Well, first you need to have something to say.
I think I took Dr. C’s words to heart many years ago and have tried not to write just for the sake of writing. But lately, I have realized I do not have anything left to say here right now. You have heard all of my stories, walked all the way down this path with me, grimaced at my jokes, and perhaps gained a bit of my perspective on what it means for the Church to engage the peripheral people of our world. But I have started repeating myself—and really struggling to find something fresh or vital to say.
So it is time to walk away, before you are too tired of my voice. For at least a few months, I am not going to write this weekly post; I’m going to look at a new horizon.
That does not mean I won’t be busy. There are some really exciting things going on in this world of dirty faith, and I want time to invest in them. I need to see Hope Institute come into full bloom and really start impacting orphan care around the world.
There is a working group that I am a part of that is developing standards of care for residential programs that will really push us to make sure we are doing the best for our kids.
I want to pick up a writing project I walked away from a few years ago and see if there is any life left in it.
And my publisher would like to see a sequel to Dirty Faith. Perhaps Leaking Grace. Any takers?
So, thank you, thank you for listening and responding over the years. I enjoy knowing you as a fellow sojourner on this dirt path, and I still look forward to walking it with you.