The irony is not lost on me with what I’m going to announce today. Go back twelve months to January 2017 and you’ll find an eerily similar piece I wrote about a season of “transitions and change” that Natalie and I were bracing for. A new chapter was supposedly opening up for us. Not only were we only a few short days from welcoming our firstborn into the world, little Lydia Ann, I was also stepping into my first vocational youth pastoring role. Although it was part-time, it was teeming with promise. Or so it seemed.
New year, new me, same old grace.
New year, new me, same old grace.
The irony is not lost on me with what I’m going to announce today. Go back twelve months to January 2017 and you’ll find an eerily similar piece I wrote about a season of “transitions and change” that Natalie and I were bracing for. A new chapter was supposedly opening up for us. Not only were we only a few short days from welcoming our firstborn into the world, little Lydia Ann, I was also stepping into my first vocational youth pastoring role. Although it was part-time, it was teeming with promise. Or so it seemed.
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