Sometimes ideas need space to grow. That’s where I’ve found myself this week—thinking, building, and adapting.

I’ve quietly launched a separate GitHub Pages site for The Glorious Gospel project. At the moment, it’s just a simple shell: a default (and admittedly older) theme with some custom tweaks—components rearranged, header image swapped, and a new favicon added.

Didn’t I say I was going to fall behind on writing these posts?

I suppose part of me forgets, and another part just doesn’t care all that much in the moment. But eventually, I circle back around to the idea that it’s probably best to get some of this out on paper, or at least on the digital paper of the web.

I’m aware that not every thought or update I share here is particularly profound. Honestly, most of it probably isn’t. These entries are more like scattered trail markers across the landscape of my mind: uneven, personal, and not always scenic. But they’re mine. And hey, no one’s forcing you to read them. Hah.

The heat… it’s been unrelenting this week. Temperatures hovering in the low 30s, and with the humidity it feels even higher. My upstairs room in this old house holds onto the warmth, despite the fan doing its best, 29 to 30 degrees seems to be the best I can get.

Saturday evening I pushed myself harder than usual, a 30km bike ride out to O’Leary. I stopped at the hall for a water refill, then took a short break with friends before heading home. It nearly doubled my typical distance, and while I pedaled, I kept the Practicology Podcast playing. It’s become a reliable companion for the longer rides, encouraging, sound, and filled with Scriptural insight.

It’s been a long evening, the kind where sleep stays just out of reach and your mind won’t quiet down. So instead of forcing it, I sat with the thoughts and let them come out the only way they know how to sometimes: as poetry.

Three different threads found their way to the page tonight. One rooted in grief, another in grace, and the last in the strange frustration and beauty of writing itself.

If you’re curious, you can read them here:

• 🪨 Anchor Stone - A reflection of loss and remembrance.
• ✝️ After the Change - A quiet testimony of transformation.
• 🖋️ Writer’s Lament - A familiar struggle with expression.

It’s not always tidy or profound, but it’s honest. And that’s a start.

With this blog being public facing, I know that anyone could potentially read it. It’s an odd concept to be sure. I’m trying not to let that affect what I write or don’t write here. My goal is to be open and transparent with my thought process, both the good and the bad.

Still, it crosses my mind now and then that it might feel strange knowing others could read about my insecurities and personal moments. But it is what it is. If I’m going to be open, then I want to be open all the way.