Two years ago, I wrote a blog post called “A Quiet Thing” about anticipation and Advent.
We had recently won an exhausting custody battle and the post was about how we can spend months or even years looking forward to something, only to be surprised by how different it feels when it actually happens. At those moments, the bells don’t ring and the choir doesn’t sing. . . . the happiness is actually a quiet thing.
In that blog post I forecasted feeling the same way if I ever held a book with my name on the front cover. And sure enough, that also feels very different. As I write this it’s close to midnight. I am sprawled on our couch listening to a storm rolling in and to dogs helpfully welcoming it with their barks. I’m distracted with thoughts of tomorrow’s to-do lists, with meetings to plan and talks to prepare and plates to spin. I was too lazy to make a proper dinner six hours ago or to go upstairs for a sweatshirt two hours ago so I’m really hungry and kind of cold. It’s just another night in the life.
That blog post from December ’16 is in here, along with 50+ other posts from the blog including many things I don’t understand, 11 haiku, a couple digs on Osteen, and various other reflections on being a Christian, a woman, and a stepmom. In case you are one of the two people who have read everything posted here (Hi mom and dad!) there are also a few new pieces including some things I wrote as part of a seminary class on spiritual memoir. The book is available as a paperback and an ebook, and I’d love for you write a review or buy a copy or buy ten copies, of course. Here’s the link.
But pulling this book together is about marking a moment, not making money. As I wrote in my previous post announcing this project, my thirties were full of adventures–living in California and Nashville and Philly, meeting and marrying Matt, traveling to Europe and Asia, preaching a little, having some fun, and working a lot. It was time to stop blogging last year but it feels right to present the best of the blog in a new format, and I hope it will encourage you or make you laugh.
Thanks for reading, and for being part of this quiet, happy thing.