Category Archives: government

first things, part one: how we pray to heal the land

Posted on by February 17, 2023

Kav is sitting at the counter, staring blankly at his toast.

“The air makes my eyes blink,” he said.

I know, kid. Mornings are hard. The air makes my eyes blink, too.

The sun is rising earlier in the mornings now and setting later in the afternoons, and there’s a reckless feeling of freedom and hope that goes along with it after the shortest, darkest days of winter. We still have two months of snow left but we’re on the downhill slope of it and picking up steam.

first things, part one: how we pray to heal the land -- Shannon Guerra

You know what else is picking up steam? Crazy events around the world. I mean, we thought 2020 was nuts, but every year since seems to have taken it as a challenge to outdo the buffoonery of the one before. Talk about things that are hard and make your eyes blink: What can you do about a government that detonates chemical weapons in the heart of its own farmland?

It’s expected to affect at least 10% of America’s water supply. Fish, livestock, and pets are dying, people are getting sick, and many are afraid they’ve lost their homes forever. The mainstream media isn’t talking about it and has been trying to distract us with aliens instead because they think Americans are stupid (and for once they’re not completely wrong). It’s Look Here, Not There, because otherwise people will notice real things that are happening, like names being released of those who visited Epstein’s pedophile island, the beginning of World War 3, and, oh yeah, how the government has drastically escalated the sabotage of the US food supply.

But you won’t know about most of that if you’re getting your news from “the news,” which is exactly what they’re hoping for. Because, look! Aliens!

Since we do know, though, what can we do? How do we heal the land even while entities are actively trying to destroy it?

We can look at our own soil, and go back to the first things: We can pray. We can get in the Word. And we can get the Word out.

As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.

– Luke 8:15

It’s not common anymore, but every once in a while you hear about land that is so fertile you just have to throw seeds at the dirt and abundant, massive crops spring out of it. Giant tomatoes. Huge pumpkins. I’m not talking about the stuff made from junky, synthetic fertilizers; I’m talking about the good soil that has been nurtured and fed through cycles of work and rest. You can practically throw pennies into the dirt and dollars burst out of it.

It’s similar to how there have been seasons that were uniquely favorable for particular vocations or endeavors. You know, those times in history when something was almost a no-fail prospect because business was so good or demand was so high, the connections came together flawlessly and opportunities aligned. Those who raked in the windfall may have taken credit for the massive success, but they really only happened to be placed into it by the grace of God since, in the given circumstances, it would’ve taken a very special kind of idiot to fail.

And this is the time we are living in, for intercessors. And that means you who already know you are intercessors, and also those of you who are tempted to tune me out right now because you don’t think I’m talking about you. But I am.

Other evils there are that may come; for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary. Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till.

– J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

You know what makes fertile soil? Lots of manure, but it has to be stewarded well. And that’s a good picture of our calling in these days.

Our hearts are to be the fertile soil, where situations drop in and we bear fruit no matter what. And that can feel heavy, like striving, unless we remember that we only bear fruit through abiding – and then we realize it is less about doing and more about being.

We are to be in proximity to the Lord, and not as a passive Yes-of-course-God-is-always-with-me knowledge, but as an intimacy that feels the impact of Someone’s presence. You know how when someone walks in the room and you immediately look over because you felt a shift in the atmosphere? You know how when someone across the room looks at you, and you sense it, and you look back? That’s the kind of proximity we’re talking about. We are abiding with the One who changes the atmosphere. His eye is on us, and we are looking back.

Now that we’ve established that, we can move on to the big question we couldn’t answer before. So, here it is:

How can we pray when events feel too big, too hopeless? How can we heal the land?

One obvious answer is in this verse:

…if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.

— 2 Chronicles 7:14

And that’s a great start. But if we’re honest, it’s maybe a little too familiar to some of us and way too unfamiliar for the rest.

So what else should we know? How can we pray? How did Jesus equip us for such a time as this?

I read the story of Jesus and the Centurion to my kids this week. You probably know it; the Centurion’s servant is sick and he asks Jesus to heal him, so Jesus offers to come to his house. But the Centurion says that’s not necessary because he understands how authority works: You tell someone to do something, and they do it. There’s no question, no wondering if they’re going to obey, it’s as simple as one number following the next. The man was a leader over a hundred soldiers (that’s what a Centurion is) and he knew what he was talking about.

Keep that in mind as we look at one of the wild things Jesus said:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father. Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it.

– John 14:12-14

Why did He say we would do greater things than He did? I’m not totally sure, but I think at least partly it was because He knew we would be living in days that required greater things. In Biblical times they had corrupt leaders, too, but they didn’t have governments detonating chemical weapons on their own land and poisoning entire water systems. They didn’t have our dependence on electricity and other utilities. They didn’t have the threat of nuclear war.

So let’s look at a few things Jesus did that we may be able to apply to greater things in prayer:

  • He did many things multiple times: raised the dead, fed the multitudes, cast out demons, healed the sick, made the blind see, made the deaf hear, made the lame walk.
  • He calmed the seas. And this is interesting because in Matthew this story is shared just ten verses after the story of the Centurion that we just talked about, and He asks, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Sorta like He was asking, Weren’t you paying attention? You need to start applying this.

And we do, too.

We can pray and direct wind currents, and command contaminants to be gone. We can take authority over the principalities and powers that have corrupted our churches and institutions. We can pray purity into contaminated water. We can pray for eyes to be opened and evil to be exposed. We can pray for the deaf to hear and people to come to know Jesus like never before. We can take authority over our food supply and cancel the works of the enemy who continues to sabotage it.

That same enemy will hiss at you about how foolish this is. His snarling accusations are a cover for the terror he lives in because he knows what happens when God’s people pray with authority. He knows what happens when people know the Word and say “It is written.” He knows what happens when people stop worshiping their own comfort and what other people think about them, and start doing the things God tells them to. He knows he loses ground fast. The fields are white for harvest.

For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

– 1 Corinthians 1:25-29

Not only did Jesus say we will do greater things than He did, but He emphasized twice right after that that when we ask in His name, He will do it. This isn’t about us being in authority over Jesus; this is about us being a conduit for His authority. He is eager to grant prayer that is aligned with His will. So it only becomes a question of knowing His will, and that goes right back to abiding and being in His word.

So now let’s look again at that scripture about healing the land, because things are starting to come together:

…if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.

— 2 Chronicles 7:14

Alright, we’ll take it one piece at a time: We are called by His name. We are humbling ourselves, unafraid to look foolish to the world. We are learning to pray and seek His face; we are in the Word and living in what it says. And we are turning from our wicked ways…wait, wait, wait.

We’re not that wicked, are we? Let’s put aside the obvious sins for a minute and consider: Have we worshiped our own ease? Have we abdicated responsibility and authority to others (like the government, or even church leaders) that we should’ve been doing ourselves? Have we slacked off in intercession? Have we thought “pray without ceasing” was a well-intentioned but unreasonable suggestion, instead of a clear command?

Ohhh. So maybe we do have some wicked ways to turn from. Maybe there’s more room to move.

The best time to do it was years ago, but the next best time is now.

The good news is it’s a fast repentance; no hoops to jump through, no paperwork to fill out, no waiting in line. Jesus, we’re sorry for worshiping what was comfortable. We’re sorry for waiting to intercede until the pain hit too close to home. We’re sorry for neglecting the harvest.

We’re ready to go back to the first things, so we can do greater things.

There is a move afoot, a reckless feeling of freedom and hope that is picking up steam. The One who shifts the atmosphere and has our eye is eager to teach us how to be better conduits of His authority, shaming the wise, and uprooting the evil in the fields that we know.

Part 2 is coming next week, and it’s about reading the Bible and filling the pantry of our soul. Subscribe here to get it right to your inbox.

guardianship: surrendering to a process of becoming more like Him

Posted on by January 30, 2023

Bedtime. I rolled over and tried to pull the pillow into place, and felt something tweak in my shoulder.

“Great,” I muttered, “tomorrow people will ask why I’m gimping around and I’ll have to tell them, ‘I’m 46, and I hurt my shoulder while wrestling with my pillow.’”

“Just tell them you did it in bed,” Vin said. “Let them use their imagination.”

And that did sound like a better idea.

guardianship: surendering to a process of becoming more like Him

Sometimes though, we can’t let people use their imagination. Sometimes their imaginations are less than gracious. And sometimes they believe the thing that seems most convenient but furthest from reality. Some things have to be clarified. And often the more important those things are, the harder they are to communicate.

For example, all week long I had a difficult conversation coming up. I had prayed and asked others to pray. But still, I was dreading it; I wondered if I should just not pursue it. Maybe I could get out of it.

So like every mature Christian, I tried that tactic in prayer:

I don’t want to do this, I told the Lord. I don’t know if I can do this.

You need to, though, He said. You know how to do it.

I don’t trust myself to do it right, though.

Do you trust Me? He asked.

Yes…but I don’t trust them. I don’t know how they’ll respond.

Do you trust Me? He repeated.

Of course I do. So I gave my feelings to Him (over and over, you know how this goes sometimes) and initiated the conversation. And the Lord gave me not only the wisdom and firmness I needed, but also the calm demeanor, composure, and discernment to say everything that needed to be said as I stood my ground. I did not waver; there was nothing on my list that was left unsaid.

God showed me again that He is faithful to work through us even when we feel unable and uncertain.

And that situation has been really good to look back on because a few months ago we learned about a whole new part of the special needs adoption process that we didn’t realize we signed up for almost eleven years ago. It’s called guardianship.

Maybe some of you are familiar with this. Maybe you’ve dealt with it and it seemed like no big deal. But for our family it feels like a Really Big Deal and we didn’t see it coming, and in some ways I feel stupid because it seems like we should have known about it or at least been given a heads up somewhere in the hours upon hours we spent in trainings and adoption paperwork.

For the equally uninitiated, it’s this: With their special needs and delays, our adopted kids will not be able to take care of themselves upon turning 18, when they magically become adults in the state of Alaska. This part wasn’t a surprise; we knew when we met Reagan that we were taking on a much bigger task than we originally thought and that she would always live with us. We do expect Andrey to be able to care for himself someday, though not as soon as he hits that magic number. What we did not realize is that continuing to care for them requires the legal activation of guardianship, and it is a fairly lengthy, invasive, legal process of courts, reports, and paperwork that is akin to the adoption process itself, except that it continues for the rest of our lives until we die.

Even after going through the original process, emptying our savings, and caring for them for over ten years, we must prove ourselves all over again to the government that we are able and willing to continue doing for our children what we’ve been doing all along. We cannot leave it to their imagination; it must be communicated. Again.

And that feels wrong to me. Oh, I know the reasons for it; you don’t need to lecture me. There have been exceptional cases of terrible people who take advantage of the system and do neglectful and sometimes horrific things to children. That is part of why we chose to adopt in the first place. The bigger problem is that more often than not, the terrible people out there doing terrible things to children are part of the system and work for the government.

So to treat all parents as guilty until proven innocent – over and over again – is unjust, inefficient, and a lousy use of resources. Putting the onus on parents who have already been through the fire and devoted years of their lives to caring for these children seems to be a “look here, not there” strategy.

But what can you do? There’s no other option. As it’s been explained to me, the reason it’s necessary is because Reagan cannot care for or make choices for herself, and without guardianship, if she were injured and needed to go to the hospital after she’s 18, we would not be able to make choices for her or authorize her care, either.

And yet if that situation arose, what then? Someone (a police officer, hospital staff, or some government worker) would arbitrarily end up making those decisions on her behalf, even though they would have no history with her, know absolutely nothing about her, and, ironically, they would not have completed the process of guardianship, either. But we, her parents, are required to jump through the bureaucratic hoops in order to continue doing for her what we’ve been doing all along. See how this works?

So here we go. We cannot leave things to the government’s imagination, so we will prove ourselves again by filling out more reams of paperwork and going through more hours of trainings and meetings so the government can check off their boxes, which is more important to them than actually spending all those hours with our children or nurturing our family, which is what good parents actually do.

Yeah. I know, I’m a little bent outta shape about this.

The pressure wells and I am aware of every breath because I am inhaling deeply and deliberately, willing the oxygen to go in and the stress to go out. And then I eat a caffeinated energy bar because augmenting anxiety with the jitters seems like a capital idea.

I go downstairs to water the plants, and as I look at these tiny seedlings, I persist in telling myself the truth. The feelings want to be louder, but the truth is what needs to win the day:

The Lord knows this whole process.

He is protecting our family.

He has prepared us and is continuing to prepare us.

What surprises us does not surprise Him.

This won’t be wasted time; this will be found time.

This will be for our good, because He causes all things for our good. This will expand the Kingdom as we surrender to Him in it, and faithfully walk through it.

Nothing can threaten us.

That’s the thing that really gets me: It feels threatening and invasive. It feels like it’s sending us back to the beginning, and the beginning was so hard.

But wait, no, we’re focusing on truth and not feelings, so I keep going back to the truth. I plant those seeds deep, deep down so they will take root and grow. And it’s all well and good while I’m watering my lettuces and garlic, but as soon as I’m back upstairs on the couch researching the process, anxiety steamrolls through, scattering resolve and making me take deep, shaky breaths all over again. And I’m right back to telling Him, I don’t want to do this.

You need to, though, He tells me again. Do you trust Me?

I do trust Him. I don’t trust a lot of people, though. We’ve been burned so many times when they’ve used their imaginations, appointed themselves as authorities, or assumed something that wasn’t true. I’ve learned that outsiders can be dangerous and painful to special needs families and kids.

For years Reagan had a tiny, tiny bed. We tried giving her a twin-sized bed and she hated it; she slept on the outermost top corner of it because…well, use your imagination. She had a tiny bed at six years old when we met her, about half the size of a toddler mattress. I don’t know what her experience with bigger beds was, and she didn’t like the one we gave her. So Vin made her a small one that she did like, and it saved space in a bedroom that was shared by three girls at the time. But if you came to our house and saw her tiny, tiny bed, you would wonder. And I wouldn’t blame you for wondering. But I would blame you if you judged us for it without knowing the reason behind it.

A couple years ago we went on a short hike with someone we’d only met once before. A few days later I learned that this person had noticed Reagan walked awkwardly (because she does) and kept stepping out of her shoes (because she does). They assumed it was because her shoes didn’t fit her, so they generously offered to buy her some.

Do you see how that’s not really generous, though? They assumed we weren’t providing for her, that we hadn’t bothered to purchase shoes that fit her. They didn’t ask us, didn’t know anything about her, had never spent any time with her. They just assumed that the way she walked and acted was because of neglect and lack of finances on our part.

(Side note: Our generosity should never puff ourselves up or put someone else down. It should never be to exalt ourselves over someone else. Our generosity isn’t from us anyway, it is from God and we are merely the conduit and clerk He is going through.)

Why, when people have the opportunity to use their imagination, do they use it so badly?

But here I am, doing the same thing, because I’m imagining that the people on the other end of this guardianship process will be as ignorant and unhelpful as many that we’ve dealt with before.

You’re all safe, the Lord says. I’m right here with you. Nothing can threaten and harm you.

As a friend and pastor reminded me a few days ago as he prayed for us, the government is on His shoulders. The Lord’s not asking us to surrender anything to the government; we’re just surrendering to Him.

It’s a process that must be completed and endured. Knowing we are sheltered, safe from threat or invasion, and assigned to walk powerfully through it keeps us peaceful in the process.

So He’s teaching us to trust Him in new ways with the unexpected. We can trust Him even when we don’t trust ourselves or others. We can trust Him in our vulnerability, with surrendering to a process we would not have chosen but can expect Him to bring good out of, because He is our guardian: our keeper, protector, caregiver, champion, preserver, sentinel, and shepherd. And He’s showing us how to be more like Him.

Praying for you,

Shannon

P.S. If you need some deeper content on being burned, dealing with forgiveness and resentment, and/or you want to stop feeling threatened by those who have burned you, this is what we’re addressing in the February newsletter for premium subscribers, coming out in a few days. Upgrade for that here – there’s a free trial and also a reduced group rate. And if you need this content but it’s not in your budget right now (have you even SEEN the cost of groceries lately?!) just let me know and I’d love to comp your subscription for free, gratis.

Also! I made a little announcement recently and shared the first excerpt of my new book last week. That’s available to premium subscribers, too.

P.P.S. Links for you!

favorite books of 2022

Posted on by January 18, 2023

I was buying books and Vin asked me to look one up that he’s wanted for a while.

“They have it in paperback or hardback, which do you want?” I asked.

“Paperback,” he said. “It might suck.”

And that’s wisdom, my friends.

favorite books of 2022: Shannon Guerra

This was a tough year reading-wise for me. Not because I didn’t read much – I read almost fifty books – but because I quit at least five other books in disgust after anywhere from fifty to several hundred pages (I mention one of them here). Fortunately, it was also a year full of books that are tried and true, old favorites that I happened to be reading again, and they made up for it.

Reading good books is like gentle, gradual irrigation of the mind. Reading the Bible is more like a power washer, or a rushing river. But all good books dislodge rocks and embedded lies from us, and reveal truths that never change but somehow can always come alive in a fresh way. Good reading is both cleansing and nurturing; it grows within us the stuff that preserves from rottenness and brings flavor. It changes our landscape, deep and wide. We recognize things about ourselves and the world around us, and we see things articulated that we didn’t have words for before.

Good books rile up justice and goodness, and bad books make excuses for it.

Here are my favorites from last year that (mostly) do all the right stuff. I hope you find a few that become your favorites, too.

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

“There seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were made over comfortable, perhaps — otherwise we might have had longer warning of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different.”

Here is a case for rereading a classic that you didn’t care so much for the first time. (See also The Wind in the Willows.) I’ve read this twice before and it was okay, nothing that excited me too much. And then I read it again last spring with my daughter and our Gaining Ground group, and lo and behold…things came alive that I missed the first (and second) times around. I’m convinced now, it’s a keeper – and it makes the extremely Hobbity and slightly silly first chapter of Fellowship of the Rings (see below) make a lot more sense now. It is a fairy-tale-like children’s book full of trolls, spiders, thieving, sneaking, jealousy, fighting, shapeshifting, invisibility, riddles, and battles…but yeah, it really is a good book with solid values worth sharing with your kids. Or your spouse. Or your cat.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

Hey, this one counts as seven – or actually six, because we just started the last book in the series again a few nights ago, but we read the other six out loud at dinner time to the kids throughout 2022.

If you have never read these, or you haven’t read them in years, or you only read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, or you only saw the movies (egad), you should find the nearest 4- to 18-year-old and start reading this with them, post-haste. You don’t need to read them in order (chronologically or in the order they were written, and yes, those are different) but I’m still noticing details in certain stories that allude to characters or events in the other ones that I never noticed before. Every single book in the Narnia series has truths in it that are articulated brilliantly and beautifully, and they will change your life and our culture for the better.

How an Economy Grows and Why it Crashes by Peter Schiff

Make economics fun again! If you need an easy refresher on basic economics or a great book for your middle/high schooler, this book illustrates the principles through a fictional land of islanders who begin their own economy through trading fish and services, on just one fish a day. It explains principles without jargon and shows how they are both used and abused. And if you know your U.S. history, you’ll enjoy a lot of the snarky humor that identifies some of those abusers, as well.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am to you, and I am standing in the spirit at you elbow.”

My first encounter with this book was in the 8th grade when our English teacher read it aloud to us the week before Christmas break. I remember very little (as in, nothing) of it, which, combined with what I already told you about The Hobbit and Wind in the Willows, is an indictment on either the Anchorage public school system or my attention span. Probably both.

But now! Ohmygosh, I love this book so much. This is the second time we’ve read it aloud as a family, and even our little guys – ages 4 and 7 – liked it. (Giving characters different voices helps.) You don’t have to read this at Christmas; it is beautiful year round, and if you want an easy way to dip your toes into Dickens’ works, this is the one to start with. (Oliver Twist is probably a good second.)

Polyface Micro by Joel Salatin

This is a good book to read if a) your life has been taken over by poultry, b) you are aware of the crisis in our food system and know the egg shortage we’re seeing is only the tip of the iceberg, or c) you want to take your dreams of homesteading and start doing something about them. This is livestock farming micro-style, for those of us with yards instead of fields. Lots of ideas here on how to do the basics, plus plenty of insight and hacks that only come from someone with years and years of experience who is willing to tell you about his mistakes so you don’t have to repeat them.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

This one threw me for a loop at first. There’s a lot of dialogue but no quotation marks, an intentional lack of apostrophes in many contractions, and you quickly discover that rules can be broken if you write and tell a story as well as this guy. Every once in a while I came across a word I suspected he was making up, but then I’d check, and by golly, he pulls vocabulary up from the very bones of the earth and puts those words to work again.

It’s not a kids’ book but I’d recommend it to mature high schoolers. The story is intense and fascinating, about a father and son traveling through a post-apocalyptic wasteland just trying to survive. I read it in two days and then immediately put it on Vince’s stack and demanded he read it, too – which he did, and he also loved it.

The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker

File this one under “Information everyone needs to know and hopes they never have to apply” – which I guess you could also say for any book on farming. (Ha ha, I jest…sorta). Not a great book, but an important book about crime, human nature, and protecting yourself from whackos. Eat the meat, spit out the bones; it’s a three-star book with lots of five-star info.

Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard

If you are grieving or walking through a hard season, this book is a great companion. Much Afraid is a girl who has been threatened, gaslighted, and mistreated, and the Shepherd leads her on a journey that isn’t just escape, but destiny – she learns her true identity through a process of obedience, faith, and surrender. We read this in Gaining Ground last summer, and so many of us found great healing, encouragement, and revelation for different situations we were navigating.

Parnassus on Wheels by Christopher Morley

A woman buys a book wagon and takes off across the countryside in the early 1900s, leaving her slightly selfish brother in the lurch and baffled at her gumption. A funny and fast book about books, and reading, and love, and surprises.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

“By reading only six hours a day, I shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction which I now feel myself to want.”

Why use a boring word like “year” when you can say twelvemonth? This story is about two sisters: Elinor is all things tact, courtesy, and self-control, and Marianne is all things honest, transparent, and idealistic. By the end of the book they are both stronger, wiser, and happier, and the reader is, too.

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

“It seemed that the evil power in Mirkwood had been driven out…only to reappear in greater strength in the old strongholds….the power was spreading far and wide, and away far east and south there were wars and growing fear….Little of all this, of course, reached the ears of ordinary hobbits. But even the deafest and most stay-at-home began to hear queer tales; and those whose business took them to the borders saw strange things.”

There’s a great evil in the world that has been hidden for ages, lurking unknown, unsuspected by those who are happily oblivious until some strange, seemingly unrelated occurrences start happening with increasing frequency. Once discovered, the evil must be completely destroyed before everything good in the world is destroyed first.

Sounds eerily familiar, yes? But no, it’s not the Deep State; it’s Sauron, the Lord of the Rings. I’ve read this at least five times but am finding parallels and wisdom for our current days that I’ve never seen before. Fellowship is the first part of The Lord of the Rings, which is really just one ginormous book of over a thousand pages, often separated into a trilogy. We’re currently tackling it in Gaining Ground and just started The Two Towers, the middle book. If you have tried Fellowship before and couldn’t get past the odd, folksy first chapter, please give it another shot. By chapter two it changes rapidly from a children’s book like The Hobbit into the life-changing and dramatic saga of good versus evil so many of us love.

Wait, you keep talking about Gaining Ground. What is that?

It’s our online book club on Telegram. It originally started a few years ago as a book club that incorporated writing coaching, but I’ve stopped coaching and now we just read and chat about books and share nerdy, bookish memes. Our group ebbs and flows every time we start a new book, but it’s grown to over a hundred people and you can join us here if you’d like.

My goal this year is more books, less videos; more pages, less screen time. More time together, more shared stories, more ideas, more joy, more justice. Less fabricated news, more newsworthy knowledge. More wholeness, goodness, and truth, with a side of coffee or tea. Probably a cat or two. Maybe a blanket. Plus a 30% chance of a huge bowl of popcorn, which I may or may not share.

P.S. Want more book recommendations? Here’s my list from last year. Reading great books is one of the easiest ways to transform our culture.