It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here. The last five or six years have been a season of change for me and my family, some of it hard, some of it just the ordinary churn of life. Looking back, I don’t think any of it was coincidence. I believe God opens doors and closes them, and I’ve spent a long stretch walking through both.

I’m coming out the other side of that into something different now. Call it a season of reflection. I find myself thinking less about what’s next and more about what I want to leave behind, what kind of legacy I want to build for my family, and honestly, what God’s actually trying to shape in me through all of it.

Part of what’s gotten me writing again is AI. Not because it writes for me, but because it lets me think out loud. I can talk through an idea conversationally instead of staring at a blank page trying to force it into shape. It’s lowered the friction between having a thought and doing something with it.

That’s gotten me chewing on something. I was listening to an interview with Seth Godin recently, and one idea stuck with me: sometimes the smartest thing you can do isn’t push harder, it’s quit, not on people or responsibilities, but on a version of the plan that was never really yours to begin with.

That hit close to home. A lot of what’s kept me boxed in over the years wasn’t lack of ability or opportunity, it was noise. Negativity dressed up as caution, voices, sometimes other people’s, sometimes my own, telling me the safe lane was the only responsible one. Looking back, some of those closed doors were actually God protecting me from a lane I never should have stayed in.

I named this blog Living Interestingly a long time ago, and I don’t think I fully understood what I was reaching for. I think it was permission, permission to be curious, to try something before I knew it would work, to walk away from what wasn’t working without calling it failure, and to trust that the doors closing were as much a part of the plan as the ones opening.

There’s a line from Ted Lasso I keep coming back to, be curious, not judgmental. I used to hear that as a nice sentiment. Now I hear it as a discipline, and for me it’s rooted in something deeper than self-help, it’s trusting that God is still working even when I can’t see where a season is headed.

I don’t think curiosity and ownership are opposites, and I don’t think faith and ownership are opposites either. Real ownership requires curiosity, you can’t lead well, build well, or parent well if you’ve already decided there’s only one acceptable way to do it, or if you’ve stopped believing there’s a bigger hand guiding where it all goes.

So as I come back to writing, thinking about legacy and what God’s building in me through this season, that’s the posture I’m bringing. Curious. Open. Trusting the doors that close as much as the ones that open. Willing to quit the things that were never mine, so there’s room for the things that are.