Closed sign
I don’t know what I thought would happen at the end, exactly, when I started this in a little place on Blogger more than 10 years ago. I didn’t think about ending at all.

I’ve been blogging for TEN YEARS, y’all.

Back in 2004/2005, I desperately needed to connect with people, and with myself. Our oldest daughter was critically ill, in and out of the hospital so often I kept a bag packed by the door. The only people I saw any given week were hospital staff, either at clinics or therapy appointments or maybe in my living room if they came for a home visit. We tried to make it to church On Sunday. That was it.

I felt isolated, alone, and rather freakish. We were dealing with things like feeding tubes and heart arrhythmias, seizures and occupational therapy, IEPs and wheelchairs. No one else I knew had any of that in their vocabulary.

The blog gave me a place to process this unexpected parenting journey. The act of writing helps me organize my thoughts and corral the worst case scenarios I concocted with such ease. And I found friends in a space where we could meet and encourage each other without having to coordinate schedules and worry about babysitters, or you know, put makeup and clean clothes on.

This blog has been invaluable. It introduced me to some of my best friends and served as therapy as I worked through the most challenging and painful years of my life (thus far – please God don’t let it get worse).

As my writing changed and developed here, it gave me new writing opportunities, and eventually paid ones. Without this blog, I wouldn’t have become a contributing writer at A Deeper Story, encountered the work of World Vision in Bolivia and Sri Lanka, or become a child sponsor. I wouldn’t have met the person who knew the person who hired me at Feed the Children or had the opportunity to become a manager and leader in the workplace.

Scott used to ask me, back when this blog was the crux of a huge power struggle at a former church (the pastor thought he had the authority to tell me what I could and could not write here on my personal blog), how long was I going to keep this up? When would I be done?

I had no answer back then. I just knew that I wasn’t done yet.

I needed to grow up more. I need to make it through a traumatic transition and settle into the next phase. I needed to wrestle in a personal way with what it means to live with integrity, follow my convictions, promote peace, feed healthy relationships, and protect the privacy of my family and myself. I needed to experiment, take risks, make mistakes, and see for myself how it played out.

Those few of you remaining loyal readers (you are the BEST) may have noticed that I have only posted here once a month or so for the last two years. I think I needed to go dormant for awhile to ease into the idea that it might be done. That I might not be a blogger anymore. That I might need to take my energy and passion into a new arena.

I’m finally there. Not that I know for sure what I’m doing. Hah! That, I’m beginning to think, is a pipe dream. But I’m finally ready to turn out the lights, lock the door, and close the blog for good.

For the first time, the idea of doing so is not terrifying or unthinkable. I realized this week that closing the blog will be a relief.

I’m taking down my posts in the next week, saving them for my own reference later, and deleting the Facebook page.

Who knows? Maybe in another ten years, I will finally have a book to share with you. I do know this: I won’t stop writing. I can’t — it’s who I am. I just won’t be doing so here.

So, for now, this is goodbye. I wish you the very best.