A Few Changes Around Here (And Something I’m Really Excited About)
Inspired by a couple of recent emails, and then the “Housekeeping” column of a newsletter I was recently invited to edit, I’m reminded how important it is to maintain an open dialogue with your readers. I haven’t always kept that as an openly documented priority, and I want to apologize for that. It’s time to change it.
Going forward, I’ll be sharing a quarterly update — at minimum, bi-annual — to keep you abreast of changes that I believe are important, or at least good, for you to know about.
If you’ve been following along for a while, you’ve probably noticed things have been shifting and growing here. They always do, and always will — as long as we are growing as individuals. Random new series, sometimes new rhythms, more or less frequent posts to existing ones… the ebb and flow here is really sweet. I love that. But I also want to be a good steward of your inbox, and I want to be upfront about a few changes and explain what’s coming.
Email Updates
Going forward, I’ll be sending regular email notifications only for posts from two ongoing series: Daily Bread (which is posted randomly throughout the week) and the newest series, Verse and Vision (which will go out every morning, scheduled for 6:00AM, CST). These are meant to be consistent, short-form anchors — the kind of thing that’s most useful when it lands in your rhythm without you having to go looking for it.
For everything else (longer essays, Sunday Sessions, editorials, reader features) you’ll receive a one-time series announcement when a new series launches, so you know it exists and where to find it if you’re interested in the topic. After that, those posts will live on the blog and I’ll share them on social, but I won’t be filling your inbox and creating work you don’t need or want every time a new one goes up. You can always subscribe to individual series if you want more; I just didn’t want to make that decision for you.
I think you’ll appreciate the breathing room.
What’s Coming
I’m starting something new this week called Words of Wisdom. It’s a weekly series with a post scheduled to go live every Wednesday morning. Each post will be built around the old sayings, stories, and ways of our people — parents, grandparents, the aunts and uncles, even friends and acquaintances we have heard stories about all our lives, who said something wise that hit us sideways and somehow lodged itself in our chests and never left.
I keep thinking about how so many of the sayings we grew up with are rooted in scripture, in spiritual truth, ultimately in something ancient, and most people carrying them have no idea. The wisdom got there anyway. It wove itself into the culture, into the family line, into the way a grandmother set a table or a grandfather handled a disagreement, long before anyone called it theology.
That’s worth remembering, and looking at more carefully, and with gratitude.
I’m inviting you to share your stories. It can be a memory of, or with, a loved one or friend, a saying or word of wisdom from them that shaped you. A way your people did things that, looking back, you can see was carrying something bigger. An ancestor’s habit or phrase that didn’t make sense until it did.
You don’t have to be a writer. You don’t have to have it figured out. Just tell me what you remember, and we’ll explore it together.
You can send your stories, ideas and comments to TwinTreeProject@gmail.com or submit them via the contact form. I’ll do my best to respond to everything, and what gets featured will be handled with care and respect for the people and places behind it.
I’m looking forward to what comes in.
Closing Thoughts + A Word of Gratitude
I’m deeply appreciative of what has already grown from Twin Tree, and genuinely looking forward to what is barely planted, what hasn’t even sprouted yet. There’s something quietly thrilling about that.
Thank you for being a part of what is growing here.
I know I get more feedback and conversation on socials and forums than I do here on the blog itself, but I see the numbers here behind the screen. I see the subscriptions and the reads, and I don’t take a single one for granted. You chose to let this land in your life somewhere, and that means something to me.
Writing here is passion and purpose, and what I appreciate most — even more than likes or shares of post links — is the accountability that shows up in social conversations and private exchanges, especially through Deep Stash. You help me grow as a person, as a soul, as I share, process, and plant here at Twin Tree.
You matter more than you know.
Twin Tree Project 