It’s been a crazy few months for the Randleman family.
We moved over a thousand miles from everything familiar. We’ve started working with a new church, moved into a new neighborhood, met new people. My day off has changed to a different day of the week. We’ve had to make new friends. We’ve learned our way around a new city.
And frankly, it’s been tough.
I’m not saying it’s been bad. It’s just been hard.
Our schedules have been severely disrupted, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing either.
As a result, my writing has taken a considerable hit. And so has my reading. I haven’t read more than about six or eight books since we moved.
For me, that borders on scandalous.
I have some ideas to help me overcome this: