Returning to the writing path: Resuming My Doctoral Journey

In 2022, life led me to place my doctorate in Christian Education program on pause. After reaching the "ABD" (All But Dissertation) milestone, I found myself grappling with reasons to step away—reasons that felt valid at the time, but eventually became excuses to delay completing what I'd set out to achieve. Over the past few years, I’ve come to realize that those reasons no longer define me. I feel better. I have the time. And now, I just want to get it done, and get back to writing!

Picking up where I left off is both daunting and exhilarating. Completing my dissertation is no small task, but it's a goal I've decided is worth pursuing. It’s the culmination of years of dedication, curiosity, and hard work. A step towards proving to myself that I can finish the work that I started, no matter the detours or pauses along the way.

As I dive back into the academic world, one sacrifice I'll have to make is temporarily putting my painting on hold. Art has been my solace, my creative outlet, and a source of joy—but for now, it will patiently wait as I channel my energy into this long-overdue chapter of my life.  I have many art pieces to varnish, but painting new ones will have to wait.  

So, here’s my request to you: pray for me, cheer me on, or send good vibes my way. This journey is one I intend to see through, and your thoughtful support means the world to me.

Going to do this!   wcd

The Message of Easter: God's Love, Not Our Performance

Perhaps one of the most liberating truths of Easter is that God's plans for us aren't contingent upon our perfect performance. The resurrection wasn't earned by humanity's good behavior; it was a gift of pure grace.

Too often, we fall into the trap of spiritual performance, believing that our standing with God rises and falls with our moral scorecard. Easter shatters this misconception. The empty tomb proclaims that divine love operates on a different principle altogether—one based not on how well we behave, but on how deeply we believe.

This truth is both humbling and freeing. It means our failures and shortcomings don't disqualify us from experiencing renewal. It means that God's transformative work in our lives isn't dependent on our having everything figured out first. Instead, it begins with simply opening our hearts to believe that new life is possible.

Easter reminds us that new beginnings often start small—a seed planted in darkness, a stone rolled away, a whispered message of impossible good news. The most profound transformations rarely announce themselves with fanfare. Instead, they begin in quiet moments of faith, in choosing hope when evidence for despair seems overwhelming.

In our personal lives and in our wider communities, renewal follows this pattern. It starts with believers who dare to imagine something better than the status quo, who choose reconciliation over division, compassion over judgment, and hope over cynicism.

So the question becomes: How do we carry its message into our daily lives? How do we embody the hope of resurrection when meeting the challenges that surround us?

Maybe it begins with remembering that we are not mere spectators to God's work of renewal—we are participants in it. Each act of forgiveness, each choice to love across dividing lines, each moment of seeing others as God sees them becomes a small echo of that first Easter morning.

I think Easter calls us to be ambassadors of a different reality—one where new beginnings are always possible, where hope transcends circumstance, and where transformative love remains the most powerful force in the universe.

Maybe we can all find the courage to believe deeply, to hope boldly, and to participate fully in the ongoing story of renewal that began with an empty tomb so long ago.   

Happy Easter!   wcd