I’m writing today to say how much I’ve enjoyed this little corner of the interwebs for the past thirteen years. Yes–13 years ago today I wrote my first blog post. And Stephen’s blog {that he started back in 2006 before we were married} slowly became my place to write.
I’ve found so much joy in recording memories, chronicling our adventures, and sharing pieces of my heart. In fact, just typing these words on the screen brings a sense of rightness. Writing has been a creative outlet for me. But more than that, it’s seen me grow from a newlywed to now a mother of four. I’ve moved from Indiana to Arizona to Oregon. This blog has been a life-line through dark seasons, isolation, and early motherhood days. It’s fostered connection with far off family and friends, and I’ve found joy in the rhythm and routine of it. I enjoy the challenge of honing this writing craft. And though I’m hesitant to admit it–I’ve started to think of myself as a writer.
Of course I’m not a writer on a grand scale, but after typing 677 posts over 13 years, I’m recognizing that writing has become a part of me.
So, with lots of emotions tugging at my heart, I write to say that I’ve decided to stop blogging.
I experimented with not writing for a few months back in late 2018, and I really missed it! I’m sure I’ll miss it now too. The missing of it will always be hard no matter when I stop.
But after mulling it over, I know it’s the right choice for our family–at least for now. The boys are growing up and starting to notice what I post. As the seasons of life shift, perhaps my writing should too. I’m hoping that saying “goodbye” to the blog will mean saying “hello” to other writing outlets. Maybe a family yearbook for recording memories? Maybe more handwritten letters? Journaling? We’ll see.
My current project is finding a way to preserve this blog in book form, so the posts should still be up for a while as I work on that.
For all of you who have visited this little blog, read my ramblings, commented and connected…thank you, truly. I’ll miss this space, but I’d still love to connect with you. Our hearts and home are always open.
With love, Elisabeth
