Over the past few days, I’ve been getting familiar with Porkbun’s domain management. It’s fairly straightforward, but some settings are labelled differently than I’m used to. Still, I’m finding my way around.

It’s been a semi productive stretch, and one of the steps I’ve taken was registering the domain fromgravelhill.ca. It’ll serve as the central hub for my various projects going forward. This blog now lives at blog.fromgravelhill.ca, and the tentative replacement for The Glorious Gospel has found a home at gospel.fromgravelhill.ca.

The bookkeeping is officially caught up.

Three weeks of (semi-)solid focus and effort brought the entire previous year up to datem along with a bit of housekeeping along the way. I’m grateful for the opportunity, especially considering how new I was to this. It helped that someone was brought in on two separate days to show me the ropes, and it made all the difference. Now that the heavy lifting is done, I’ll be shifting to just a few days a month to stay on top of things. It should be a much easier pace than the sprint I just finished. I look forward to getting better at it, step by step.

Tomorrow is the Lord’s Day. Am I ready for worship, for praise, for remembering Him? Yes. But have I done enough this week: enough study, enough prayer, enough giving of thanks to God? No. Not even close.

He asks so little, and I still manage to give even less.

Trying to keep up and clear the clutter, physically and mentally. Today’s been one of those day’s of playing catch-up with the random list of to-dos that always seems to grow faster than it shrinks.

Time passes. My mind wanders. Things get left behind. I’ve said all this before, probably too many times, and I know I sound like a broken record by now. The truth is I forget, or worse, I don’t always care enough in the moment to sit down and write. But here I am again, doing what I should have done a while ago. Trying, at least, to catch the trail before it goes cold.

Sometimes ideas need space to grow. That’s where I’ve found myself this week—thinking, building, and adapting.

I’ve quietly launched a separate GitHub Pages site for The Glorious Gospel project. At the moment, it’s just a simple shell: a default (and admittedly older) theme with some custom tweaks—components rearranged, header image swapped, and a new favicon added.

Didn’t I say I was going to fall behind on writing these posts?

I suppose part of me forgets, and another part just doesn’t care all that much in the moment. But eventually, I circle back around to the idea that it’s probably best to get some of this out on paper, or at least on the digital paper of the web.

I’m aware that not every thought or update I share here is particularly profound. Honestly, most of it probably isn’t. These entries are more like scattered trail markers across the landscape of my mind: uneven, personal, and not always scenic. But they’re mine. And hey, no one’s forcing you to read them. Hah.

The heat… it’s been unrelenting this week. Temperatures hovering in the low 30s, and with the humidity it feels even higher. My upstairs room in this old house holds onto the warmth, despite the fan doing its best, 29 to 30 degrees seems to be the best I can get.

Saturday evening I pushed myself harder than usual, a 30km bike ride out to O’Leary. I stopped at the hall for a water refill, then took a short break with friends before heading home. It nearly doubled my typical distance, and while I pedaled, I kept the Practicology Podcast playing. It’s become a reliable companion for the longer rides, encouraging, sound, and filled with Scriptural insight.

It’s been a long evening, the kind where sleep stays just out of reach and your mind won’t quiet down. So instead of forcing it, I sat with the thoughts and let them come out the only way they know how to sometimes: as poetry.

Three different threads found their way to the page tonight. One rooted in grief, another in grace, and the last in the strange frustration and beauty of writing itself.

If you’re curious, you can read them here:

• 🪨 Anchor Stone - A reflection of loss and remembrance.
• ✝️ After the Change - A quiet testimony of transformation.
• 🖋️ Writer’s Lament - A familiar struggle with expression.

It’s not always tidy or profound, but it’s honest. And that’s a start.