When people find out I'm the editor of a Christian website they always say: "So you only write good news stories then? You only do things that are good and uplifting?"

Well, no.

Because so much of what's happening in the world is so terrible. I still think reconciling that with believing in God who is good and all powerful is the most difficult thing about being a believer, but it's something we strive for.

For me it's often been not so much, "Where is God in the face of suffering?" but, "What's the point of him? He's there but he's not doing anything to help."

When I feel like I go back to the beginning. I think of my first conscious knowledge of God on an Alpha Course, and the times I've encountered him since.

And then you add the goodness of others, the testimonies, and the power. Only God could enable you to forgive Dylann Roof, as Felicia Sanders did, after he shot her son in cold blood. These are the stories we need to tell and this is why we don't only write about nice things.

When I became editor of Christian Today in May 2014, the things we were really preoccupied about were Boko Haram kidnapping the Chibok schoolgirls, whether women bishops would be allowed in the CofE and the whole Mark Driscoll thing.

Some of which feels pretty insignificant compared to what's happening now.

Over that summer we watched in horror as first Mosul and then the rest of Iraq came under siege, and Islamic State became a gruesome household name.

Pictures of beheadings flooded Twitter, and every week the actions became more and more despicable. And religion was key to understanding it. Who were these people and why was it happening? Why were they shouting "Allahu akbar" every time they blew up a crowd?

Evangelicals elected Donald Trump and appear stuck in the mud as society progresses, and ISIS beheads people in God's name.

Interpreting what's happening in religion matters now more than ever.

And without wanting to be too self-aggrandising, what in a small way we sought to do at Christian Today is try and make sense of it all – the terrible crises of persecution, the displacement of millions of people, the indifference to people drowning in the sea as they fled war, while closer to home there seemed to be a rising tide of nationalism, racism and Me First.

At times we despaired – the stories which consistently got the most hits were about gay cakes, discrimination and internal wranglings.

And at other times there were moments of genuine prophecy – the Charleston survivors telling Dylann Roof that they loved him and were praying for him sticks in my mind above everything else, but there were other good days – women bishops, tens of thousands of Brits signing up to house a refugee child, masses of money raised for persecuted Iraqis.

The other big thing that we wanted to do at Christian Today, aside from making sense of the world through religious eyes, was to hold up a mirror to the subculture. This is the side of 'Christian journalism' which is often dismissed as Christians just talking to each other instead of getting out there and doing things etc etc. But there are serious things within the Church which need to be talked about. And we needed to laugh at the absurdity of it all (thanks Martin Saunders for doing this so well!).

I'm grateful for all I've learned – for the insight and analysis of people who helped me to understand the world better, and to all of the contributors for getting behind the vision for CT. I'm grateful for the crash course in leadership I got through building up the team from scratch (essentially I think it boils down to treating people like human beings, not cogs in a machine, and having a sense of humour) and for the unique team dynamic which we built here, when journalism can so often be a game of individual competitiveness. 

We wanted to take a few risks, and be a place where voices from the left and the right would both find a hearing. Not because all views are equal, but because Christians of every flavour have got to try and fight against the silo mentality where you only read what you agree with. In our time it's become easier than ever to curate your own version of reality – unfollow people you don't like or agree with, stick your virtual fingers in your ears and just seek affirmation of your own perspective. That doesn't get us anywhere.

In a sense, Christian journalism is just an extension, with a voice slightly amplified, of what we should all be doing all the time: listening to each other with deep attention and respect, thinking hard about what we hear and telling the best stories we can in the best way we can. And above all, remembering when we're faced with real darkness in the world – and sometimes we are – that Christ is the light.