Looking Back on 2025. And Why 2026 Matters More Than Ever.
As I look back on 2025, I find myself both grateful and a little stunned. What began as a quiet idea has grown into something real, something shared, something alive. This past year has been filled with risk, learning, disappointment, encouragement, and more growth than I expected. It has also confirmed something I have believed for a long time. There are far more people hungry for thoughtful, honest faith than we are often led to believe.
I started this work because after more than twenty five years of teaching the Bible, I knew there were conversations I wanted to have that did not fit neatly into traditional church spaces. I had ideas, questions, and convictions that needed room to breathe. I had watched too many people walk away from faith, not because they were rebellious or indifferent, but because they were never given permission to think, to wrestle, or to name what felt broken. For a long time, I tried to carry those conversations inside systems that were never designed to hold them. Eventually, I realized that if I wanted to be honest, both with myself and with others, I needed to step outside of those structures. That decision came with a cost. Leaving a community I cared about deeply about was painful. Losing relationships I thought were secure was harder than I expected. This year carried a weight I did not anticipate.
And yet, something surprising happened. Instead of silence, there was response. Instead of isolation, there was connection. People showed up. They leaned in. They questioned, disagreed, encouraged, challenged, and stayed. That alone has been one of the most meaningful parts of this year for me. Engagement means people care. It means the conversation matters. I have always believed that faith should be sturdy enough to handle disagreement. Truth does not need to be protected from questions. Jesus himself never seemed afraid of tension or complexity. If anything, he invited it.
One of my commitments this year was simple but demanding. I wanted to show up every single week, no matter what. Fifty two weeks. No skipping. No excuses. And I am deeply proud to say that commitment was kept. Not because it was easy, but because it mattered. Alongside that, I set another goal. I wanted to improve one thing every time. Sometimes that meant clarity. Sometimes it meant structure. Sometimes it meant learning new tools or letting go of old habits. Growth rarely happens all at once. It happens through small, faithful decisions made consistently over time. This year reinforced that truth again and again.
This journey also forced me to confront parts of myself I would rather avoid. My tendency to get distracted. My discomfort with conflict. My desire to be liked. Staying consistent required discipline. Staying honest required courage. Staying open required humility. In many ways, this work became a lifeline during a year that was far more difficult than I expected. There were losses I did not see coming, disappointments that lingered, and moments when continuing felt exhausting. Having a place to think out loud, to write, and to engage with others who were also wrestling kept me grounded. It reminded me that I am not alone, and neither are you.
As I look toward 2026, I feel hopeful, not because everything is figured out, but because the foundation is solid. The commitments remain the same. Show up consistently. Keep learning. Keep asking better questions. Keep creating space for people who have been told there is no room for them. There are also new directions ahead, including deeper conversations with others who bring different stories and perspectives into the room. Some we will agree with. Some we will not. That is not a problem. That is the point. Faith grows best in conversation, not echo chambers.
All of this exists within something larger. Stories of TOV was born out of a desire to help people rediscover God’s goodness through honesty, relationship, and curiosity. It is about resisting fear driven religion and choosing a more thoughtful, grounded trust. If you have found yourself here because you are questioning, healing, rebuilding, or simply curious, you belong. You do not need to have the answers. You only need a willingness to stay in the conversation.
Looking back on 2025, I am deeply grateful. For every reader, every thoughtful response, every disagreement handled with care, every quiet word of encouragement. This has been a shared journey, and I do not take that lightly. Looking ahead to 2026, I am expectant. There is more to explore, more to unlearn, more to rediscover. I am grateful you are here, and I cannot wait to see where this path leads next.
