Long gone are the days when I would sit here, hitting these keys until 3 am. But not long gone – in fact, extremely present and frequently of late – are the hours of overtime on the couch after the kids are in bed.
I have forgotten to eat dinner, left bowls of my beloved popcorn untouched, neglected normal writing schedules, and overlooked watering the garden. But this book is alllllmost done in spite of computer disasters and apps that eat landing pages and several unplanned medical appointments including two trips to urgent care in the last month…one for a kid who broke his arm and one for a bigger kid with a cyst who needs oral surgery again.
And we’re not quite done yet because, just for fun, we’re considering a new book distributor at the last minute.
But hey, friends…let me introduce you to the baby I’ve been pregnant with for eleven years.
“It burned me from within. It quickened; I was with book, as a woman is with child.”
– C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
This is a memoir of my post-adoption journey through the chaos of mothering and homeschooling six kids in the midst of multiple special needs and my subsequent depression and sanctification as I learned to surrender. If you read Upside Down and Oh My Soul and wondered what was really going on behind the scenes, it’s in this book.
Because we never know how far our dreams and callings will take us when we start pursuing them. The initial rose-colored ideas only get us ankle-deep along the shore, digging our toes in warm sand, before reality sinks in and we’re up to our ears in work we didn’t anticipate, opposition from out of nowhere, obstacles we don’t know how to solve, and expenses that threaten to suck us under.
At some point, we have to decide if it’s really worth the sacrifice to turn our vision into reality. And if it’s a daydream, maybe it’s not worth it. But if it’s a calling – a mission – then it’s a different story.
This, friends, is a different story.
In 2010, Vince and I started a process we didn’t know how to finish. We had four kids, a three-bedroom house, and two old vehicles. We lived frugally with one main income, one micro-business, and a little in savings. And God called us to adopt two children with special needs, bringing them home two years later to freedom, a new homeland, and our family. For good, forever.
And then hell broke loose.
We didn’t know what it would cost, or what it would take out of us. We didn’t know what we would gain, or how it would change us. We didn’t know how the story would end.
And I hate to spoil it for you, but years later I still don’t know how the story ends. We still live this story every day. But here’s what I’ve learned, and am continuing to learn, in the process:
We can talk about following our dreams all we want, but our calling is only achieved through giving up what feels safe and comfortable. It involves scary things like obedience and surrender, and letting go of our preconceived notions and penchant for control. We have to move out of the comfort zone and do hard things. We have to risk the ocean if we want to follow Him as He walks on water.
When we move out of that comfort zone, God may allow us to discover more about our own brokenness than we ever wanted to know. This is especially true when our dreams and callings entail facing someone else’s trauma in close proximity.
And I won’t lie to you – in our own weakness and brokenness, sometimes we look at the waves and can’t take it anymore, and we go under, to be refined like a rock worn smooth in the agitation of violent surf.
The sanctifying process might chafe you raw, until you think you can’t take anymore.
Doesn’t that sound fun? Still want to sign up?
The thing about obeying God in these big, scary callings is that it’s not about what we’re doing at all. It’s about what He ends up doing in us. Because as we follow Him in one task, He will lead us to another, and another, and another. And we discover that we’re not just called to a mission, but to a character of obedience – like children who watch what their Father is doing, and then they do it, too.
So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.”
– John 5:19
It turns out that achieving a dream is not about tying things up in the pretty bow we always expect, because redemption and achievement rarely look like a Hallmark Christmas movie.
They usually look more like God moving in deep and lasting triumph in spite of everything the enemy throws at us.
We were in the middle of a windstorm that was supposed to continue all day, gusts up to 75 miles an hour. At our house on a hill they sometimes feel higher, and during that storm it wasn’t safe to walk across the yard.
I listened to the noise and could occasionally hear movement outside that was not wind, but things carried by the wind, like branches hitting the house. Snow coming loose and flying everywhere. Maybe trees falling.
We were safe inside. We did the things we knew to do: secured everything outside, filled containers with water, charged all the things. And we’re always stocked up on the essentials. I learned years ago that I get a little edgy when we’re out of potatoes, and Vin is the same way with tortillas. Irish and Mexican, y’all.
Emotionally, in a storm, it’s our thoughts that get lifted up and blown everywhere. They fly through filled with debris and we feel the assault of worry and accusation and anger and fear. We know Jesus, we are filled with the Holy Spirit, we have charged ourselves with prayer and the Word, but the wind is blowing up against us and we can barely hear what’s true in the midst of the noise.
What do we do? We can go into our inner room.
One of our boys was reading about tornadoes this week and he was astounded at how sometimes the only thing left of a house after the storm passes is an inner closet or bathroom. Everything outside was gone, but those inner walls had been sheltered and stronger than the rest.
In these stormy seasons, we can build walls of scripture and promises around us, around our families and communities. We insulate with decrees and declarations that agree with God, barring the enemy from admittance. We intercede for those who the Holy Spirit brings to mind, and fill the cracks and crevices in their walls. We can keep the wind out, bar the lies and confusion from coming in. And also…we can command the wind to cease. If He did it, we can, too.
And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.
— Mark 4:39
“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.
— John 14:12
We know the Word, and we memorize the Word, and it fills the pantry of our soul. Each verse is tucked in like a jar on the shelf – light and color shining through, storing up abundance for the days to come.
My son, if you receive my words and treasure up my commandments with you,
making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding;
yes, if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding,
if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures,
then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.
– Proverbs 2:1-5
This pantry is different though because when you consume it, it grows instead of getting depleted. Each verse is saved, not borrowed, never needs returning, and never runs out or goes empty. It expands the storehouse within.
Several years ago I was filling the pantry of my soul with my own copywork – because Mommy does school around here, too – and wrote passages of scripture in a notebook Iree had made for me. I stopped when it became too painful; I had postpartum eczema on my hand for years and it changed a lot of routines and things, including my handwriting. But it’s better now and I dug out the old notebook. No more excuses, I want the right walls to be stronger. I want the pantry of my soul to be filled.
…put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.
— Ephesians 4:22-24
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
— Romans 12:2
Sometimes it’s hard because so much of what we are accomplishing is invisible. It’s like we’re creating oxygen, and, well, oxygen is nice – you can’t live without it, of course – but we don’t think about breathing unless something goes wrong with the process of doing it. We don’t want to make oxygen; we want to make something with color and substance to it. So it helps for me to see these verses in my mind as I write them and read them and push through in memorizing them. I don’t like the process and repetition of memorizing, but as I do it I see in my mind jars filling with goodness in all sorts of colors.
For the Lord gives wisdom;
from his mouth come knowledge and understanding;
he stores up sound wisdom for the upright;
he is a shield to those who walk in integrity,
guarding the paths of justice
and watching over the way of his saints.
– Proverbs 2:6-8
I’ve tried a few different things lately – sticky notes on the bathroom mirror, recording short sections of scripture repeated several times in voice memos to listen to. I’m learning to ignore the enemy’s attack of boredom or annoyance with the repetition. Sometimes I share it online and encourage you guys to push play. We get the Word in, and get the junk out.
We push through and know that it is changing us. It is storing up mercy. We are filling the pantry of our soul. The Word is milk to those who are babes in Christ but meat to those who are grown, and we all need to eat.
Oh, how abundant is your goodness, which you have stored up for those who fear you and worked for those who take refuge in you, in the sight of the children of mankind!
– Psalm 31:19
I know it’s hard; there are boring sections about the census in Numbers 26 and descriptions of temples in Ezekiel and all those laws in Leviticus. But as I’m reading, the Lord reminds me that washing my face is boring, brushing my teeth is boring, writing the date at the top of a new entry in my journal is boring. But they’re necessary things. We don’t spend all day brushing our teeth, and we don’t fill the entire page by writing the date over and over. But those things have a purpose, in their own time and place. We read the Word and linger where He tells us.
Routines are good because they help us stay on track, but there will always be some days when routines go out the window. Sometimes on major holidays I barely read my Bible. I’ll start to, but get interrupted a few times, then the time gets away from me and food has to be cooked or we’re running out the door.
But I can run back to it. I can run back to the Lord and turn my attention to Him without shame or hesitation because He’s been here with me all along — He knows how the day has gone and He watched over us as it unfolded. Not finishing my planned reading doesn’t put me on the bad list for the day.
Do you need to hear that right now? Because it seems like someone does.
So, here: God is not watching for our perfection and performance. He is watching over our hearts.
On those days when there’s no quiet place to hear the words in my head as I try to read them, I could’ve yelled at my kids so I could read the Bible without interruption. And honestly, I have. Been there, done that, gotten the dummy award for it. It’s about as spiritual as my kids arguing about who’s turn it is to pray over the meal.
Sometimes we miss the forest for the trees. We try to read the Word without paying attention to what it already told us. We try to smile for the camera to make a happy memory when everyone is frustrated or angry and no one wants to record that particular moment.
We want something to look at in the future — a cute photo, a finished task — but all along, God is saying to us, Hey, Love. Look at Me.
So we do, and the other stuff falls into its rightful proportion.
The to-do list becomes less, He becomes more. And we become more right along with Him, because that is how He grows us.
He who walks righteously and speaks uprightly,
who despises the gain of oppressions,
who shakes his hands, lest they hold a bribe,
who stops his ears from hearing of bloodshed
and shuts his eyes from looking on evil,
he will dwell on the heights;
his place of defense will be the fortresses of rocks;
his bread will be given him; his water will be sure.
– Isaiah 33:15-16
The shelter becomes stronger and the storm gets quieter. The Word is living and active: when we speak it we are releasing living things, unleashing life in areas where death has tried to intrude. We speak the Word and hold the darkness at bay; we make way for those who need shelter so they can get to the door in time. The Word widens our tent pegs, expands the walls, and makes room for everyone running up the path.
Then you will understand righteousness and justice and equity, every good path;
for wisdom will come into your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul;
discretion will watch over you, understanding will guard you,
delivering you from the way of evil, from men of perverted speech,
who forsake the paths of uprightness to walk in the ways of darkness,
who rejoice in doing evil and delight in the perverseness of evil,
men whose paths are crooked, and who are devious in their ways.
– Proverbs 2:9-15
I don’t understand how Jesus makes all these wrong things right; I only know that He brings righteousness out of them. His word says so and it is the verse I will never forget: It is the signpost over our door, and the lantern we hold out to others. We obey, we water, we plant, we prune, and He fills the pantry of our soul because those who are faithful in little will be faithful in much, and He has a storehouse to feed multitudes.
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.
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 TheLord 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.