We gathered again—this time at the Hilton Branson Convention Center in Branson, Missouri—for the annual Evangelical Press Association convention. A different location every year. A familiar purpose every time.
It always feels like a journey—like we’ve boarded the same train, riding together along the track of information and inspiration. Each stop brings new insight, new scenery, and familiar voices joined by new ones. We are travelers with pens, notebooks, laptops, and open minds—moving forward together.
We came with questions. We left with ideas. Forums full of insight. Speakers worth quoting. Workshops that sparked curiosity and conversation. Some sessions challenged us with stats—like the State of the Bible report. Others taught us how to make those numbers tell stories. From AI in the Newsroom to The Art of Interviewing, from Creating Community with AI Assistants to Writing Book Reviews for People Who May Never Open the Book, the learning was layered and real.
There were meals together—plates passed, stories shared, laughter layered between bites. Prayers spoken. Awards received. Songs sung. Business meetings held. Lessons recorded in notebooks and in memories.
But it was more than the schedule.
In the in-between moments—hallway pauses, unplanned lunches, slow walks to the next session—I cherished conversations with individuals who have become dear friends over the decades. We’ve grown together through shared deadlines and long-distance writing partnerships. But here, face to face, we remember why our words matter and why our friendships do too.
I found myself in meaningful discussions with editors I deeply respect—trading story ideas, asking hard questions, considering what’s next. These weren’t just editorial check-ins; they were thoughtful, hopeful conversations about how to speak into a world still hungry for truth.
We traveled together. Talked together. Ate together. Learned together. These annual conventions remind me why we do what we do—not only to improve the craft, but to enjoy the vocation. To be present. To be together. To listen well and write better. To hold both creativity and calling with reverence.
Each year, the location changes. The conversations evolve. The technology advances. But the core remains: we are people of the Word—spoken, written, revealed.
And as this year’s ride slows to a stop, I find myself looking forward to the next departure. The journey continues. Same track. New stories. Still moving forward.
