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Summer officially ends for me in just 2 short weeks when classes begin again, and I’m scrambling to finish up several things, including wrapping up some summer reading. I had a blast reading whatever I felt like reading this summer and wanted to share a few titles before I’m back reading stuff you might be a little less interested in!

A few disclaimers: all links are affiliate links through bookshop.org and I get a small percentage when you shop through that link! It’s a small way to help support my work, and don’t worry all reviews are always my own! Additionally, I make it habit to only share the books I like - there are plenty of people writing bad reviews out there, I don’t need to add to the pile.

Fiction

1. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion #1-8 - Beth Brewer (I jumped on the bandwagon! There is so much to say about these wonderful stories!! I listened to the first 3, but got tired of waiting for the library and bought the next 5. I almost never buy fiction, and I’m just so in love with these books!)

2. The Black Wolf - Louise Penny (looking forward to #21 this fall!)

3. American Fantasy - Emma Straub (fun and silly and complex!)

4. Theo of Golden - Allen Levi

5. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone - J.K. Rowling (read aloud to my youngest child over several months. I read the entire series (voices and all!) aloud my older kids during the pandemic and am enjoying it again).

Non-Fiction, Poetry, Memoir etc.

1. Once Upon a Stranger - Gillian Sandstrom (So good! Still planning to write more about this one)

2. Paul for the World - Nijay K. Gupta

3. Counterweights - Shannan Martin

4. You Wanna Be On Top? - Sarah Hartshorne (memoir of a contestant on America’s Next Top Model - surprisingly clever and funny. I also love first-hand experience!)

5. Poetry of Presence II

6. Breathing Room: Poems of Rest & Retreat - James Crews

What have you been reading? I’d love to hear!

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A few other things around the internet:

• You know I love Kendra Adachi from the Lazy Genius, but yesterday’s podcast episode was just fantastic. Decide What You’re Done With - she said something like she was looking at the undercurrent of our stress and overhwelm. So good!

• I loved this substack from Afoma Umesi: How to Raise Kids Who Read

• I wish I had some new music to send you, but the truth is I’ve mostly been listening to the 30th Anniversary Edition of Mariah Carey’s Daydream. I’m not even joking.

I think that is all for now. I love book check-ins and hope you’ll share what you’re reading! I still haven’t read the new books by Elizabeth Strout or Ann Patchett, but can’t wait. I think they’ll be a nice respite when the coming months begin to overwhelm me.

See you in September -

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I am excited to announce that I contributed to a new anthology Take More Retreats: A Guidebook for Writers, Journalers, and Creative Souls, you can nw order it here. Use code FOUNDERHOLLY5, to save $5 and I’ll receive a small percentage as well.

• Through the end of August, each person you tag on this post (or last week’s!) enters you into a drawing to win a free copy that I’ll mail (or possibly hand) directly to you!

• I have one summer mini-retreat left! TOMORROW, August 26th, I’ll be hosting: Imagination as a Spiritual Practice at noon CT. Register here! (recording available if you’re not able to make it the day of.)

• If you’ve missed my summer mini-retreat series you can now purchase recordings of the Play and Delight mini-retreats here.

• I’m also excited to announce that you can now register for my September mini-retreat: Embracing Change.

• And finally, I still have one spot left in my Fall Spiritual Direction Group & Book Club for writers and I’d love for you to join us! For more information and to register, follow this link.

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As of next month, I will have been writing here on Substack for the past four years. Writing essays and sharing my thoughts has become a welcomed rhythm in my life. The slow work of thinking, writing, and pushing “publish” once or twice each month anchors me and encourages me to bring my ideas and experiences into a complete thought.

A wrote these words on the second anniversary of writing on Substack: Writing here, in many ways, has become the last step in my processing of an idea or experience. Writing, for me, is like a puzzle. It’s the path I take to clarify ideas — it’s how I synthesize what i’ve been learning, thinking about, and living. Somedays, it’s how I slow down, and take a look around.

These words are still true, and in the years since I’ve been lucky enough to have expanded where my writing lands. I’ve written for small publications, online magazines, church blogs, and just this week a box came in the mail bringing several copies of Take More Retreats Volume 1: A Guidebook for Writers, Journalers, and Creative Souls, an anthology edited by Charlotte Donlon, of which I am a contributor!

The packaged arrived in my mailbox amidst a busy afternoon. The books sat in the box while I cooked dinner, asked about homework, and responded to a few texts. When I finally put enchiladas into the oven and washed my hands, I used some nearby keys1 to slice through the tape.

Seeing my name listed on the back of the book among the other contributors felt both exciting and like something I’d been expecting to see for many years. I’ve long thought of myself as a writer, but holding the book in my hands felt so magical. Like the beginning of something new.

It’s easy for me to hold this book and say: “okay, now you can call yourself a writer!” Or look at it and think: “you’re still not a writer until you write your own book” — but the truth is, I’ve used writer in my bio for many years. Being a writer defines me as much as the title of pastor or spiritual director.

I’ve written this about this before: All three [writer, pastor, spiritual director] insist that I spend time in prayer, that I notice my children’s laughter, that I engage with new ideas — and as it turns out, the life of a writer, (or pastor, or spiritual director) is about the overflow of your life. I’ve come to realize that it’s is as much about a way of being in the world as it is the actual work.

In Sue Monk Kidd’s new(ish) book about the creative process, she quotes poet Marge Piercy who concludes a poem this way:

the real writer is one
who really writes

If I take these words and my own words to heart, then I am a writer — and I was a writer 4 years ago, and for many years before that as I wrote in my journal, scribbled short poems on scraps of paper, and sent letters off in the mail.

Writing is first the work of noticing and being attentive to the world around you and then figuring out how the puzzle pieces of your thoughts fit together. As it turns out, being a writer means you write — in whatever form that takes.

Here’s to many more years of writing — here or elsewhere,

Holly

P.S. Luckily the keys I used to open the package did not destroy the books inside and I’d love to give one away! Through the end of August, each person you tag on this post (or next week’s!) enters you into a drawing to win a free copy that I’ll mail (or possibly hand) directly to you!

Leave a comment

Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• You can order Take More Retreats, here. Use code FOUNDERHOLLY5, to save $5 and I’ll receive a small percentage as well.

• I have one summer mini-retreat left! On August 26th, I’ll be hosting: Imagination as a Spiritual Practice at noon CT. Register here! (recording available if you’re not able to make it the day of)

• If you’ve missed my summer mini-retreat series you can now purchase recordings of the Play and Delight mini-retreats here.

• I’m also excited to announce that you can now register for my September mini-retreat: Embracing Change.

• And finally, I still have a couple spots in my Fall Spiritual Direction Group & Book Club for writers (in whatever form that takes!). For more information and to register, follow this link.

At the end of June, my daughter and I met her best friend and her mom at a local theater production of Annie. The week of the show, while the kids were at a half-day summer camp, I’d been trying to write a few words about the coming 250th anniversary of the United States of America. Specifically, about the problematic roles the church has played. The musical, of course, felt like a welcomed distraction from the hard work of making sense of things.

Last spring, I took a class that opened my eyes even wider to the historical injustices of our nation, and again, specifically to the role the Church has played. While I’d done some learning and unlearning, I still wasn’t sure how to articulate all I was thinking and feeling. As William Yoo writes, “reckoning with history is not for the faint of heart.”1

On opening night, we settled into our seats surrounded by a full and vibrant audience. Musical theater is not something I am always drawn to, but the energy of a group of people all gathered together for the same reason, is something I can’t seem to get enough of lately. (Hello to rollerskating, weddings, swimming in a public pool, and going to church!)

The show begins of course with the classic song “hard-knock life” and the kids were brilliant. As the show played on I was totally immersed in the world of Annie and the backdrop of America during The Great Depression. In one scene — which includes President Franklin D. Roosevelt, his closest confidants, Mr. Warbucks, and Annie — fictional (and musical!) glimpse into how The New Deal came to be is offered. In the play, the president and Mr. Warbucks have differing political views, but somehow come together to help those in need.

At the end of this scene, the audience was invited to join in singing along to the main song from the show, Tomorrow. As I joined in singing with those around me, the sun will come out, tomorrow, I scanned the room of strangers. They too were looking around, smiling, some eyes a little glassy, but I couldn’t help but notice how so many were turning toward each other as they sang.

It was one of those moments that is so lovely it’s almost gone before you realize what is happening. As the curtain fell and the lights went down, I realized that this was the missing piece to my essay.

In the essay I’d been working on, I’d been considering a few lines from our main text last Spring, Reckoning with History: Settler Colonialism, Slavery, and the Making of American Christianity. The final chapter is titled: The Church That Never Was (But Still Could Be). A title that is direct and honest, but also hopeful.

The idea that the church still could be, has been rolling around in my mind ever since I finished the book in late April. It seems deeply connected to the imagination work I’ve been doing — the belief that Christians are uniquely equipped to imagine another, better way. In this simple title, Yoo holds two realities out in front of us. He boldly claims that the Church has never been what it was intended to be and at the same time affirms that it’s not too late.

That night at the play felt like an embodied metaphor for what I've been thinking about. Watching strangers turn toward each other singing about a hopeful tomorrow made me feel … hopeful.

I don’t know exactly what it will take for the Church to become what it never was. I’m still building my imagination toward that, but I have a feeling it has something to do with turning toward each other instead of so often turning away.

I think it has something to do with being a good neighbor, letting go of our prejudices and judgment, offering forgiveness, and listening to each other. I think it probably has also has something to do with the simple things we do every day: showing gratitude to a teacher or kindness to a co-worker, giving generously to others, being thoughtful voters, and pausing long enough to see the needs around us.

As I’ve written before2 — it takes time to build our imaginations. It takes time to see that a different kind of life together is possible. It’s not something we can build overnight, but it’s work we must do.

So today, I’m wondering: What does it look like to truly begin to turn toward one another? I have my metaphor and I've seen it embodied visually, but am I willing, are you willing, to take the next step? Are we willing to turn toward one another in pursuit of another, better way?

with you in the turning,

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I have one summer mini-retreat left! On August 26th, I’ll be hosting: Imagination as a Spiritual Practice at noon CT. Register here! (recording available)

• If you’ve missed my summer mini-retreat series you can now purchase recordings of the Play and Delight mini-retreats here.

• I still have space in my Fall Spiritual Direction Group & Book Club for writers. For more information and to register, follow this link.

Last week I turned 42, and in celebration I’m sending you a new list of things! This year’s list includes book recommendations, playlists, some chit chat about murder mysteries, and how I celebrated the 4th of July.

1. I’m begin the same way I did last year, because it’s not something I’ve always done, at least not well — Celebrate your birthday! Do it. In a big way or small way, just be sure and celebrate.

2. Go to dinner with friends, sleep in and pick up coffee, throw a party, browse a bookstore… whatever you do, be sure and acknowledge the day! You only turn 42 (or 28, or 57) once.

3. Celebrate your people!

4. Just in the last few months I’ve celebrated with friends in a variety of ways — craft night at Aurora House, a community creative space in Austin,

5. a brunch and a quick last minute happy hour at Hank’s. Dinner out with my Brother and SIL at Salty Sow. (In case you need Austin restaurant recommendations, these two are great!)

6. In May, instead of texting I picked up the phone (wild!) and called a childhood friend and we enjoyed a long phone chat while I was on a walk and she was getting a birthday pedicure!

7. One way i’ve been celebrating my oldest’s birthdays since he turned 13 is by making a playlist from the year I turned the same age. This is probably (definitely) more for me than him, but it’s been so fun!

8. Here is my 1997 playlist

9. and my 1998 playlist (I hope you like K-Ci and JoJo and the Spice Girls!)

10. In other 90s music news, earlier this month my husband Brian made a bunch of dips from Jack Allen’s Kitchen, a cook book he got for Christmas. We had queso, guacamole, and bean dip. During dinner I announced we were going to play a “dip” playlist, which we could really only think of two songs, one of which is Da’ Dip, a song that (weirdly) also appeared in last year’s list…

11. and somehow became the theme for this year’s last minute party we hosted on my birthday.

12. I am all about easy dinners and last minute casual summer parties — so we combined them for a fun and easy summer evening.

13. Here is the playlist for my Da’ Dip party (where people bring different dips to share!!) in case you want to have your own.

14. Just in case you think that I only listen to 90s pop music, I am loving The Highwomen’s new live album, the covers are so good, plus new live versions of my favorite songs. It’s not the same as another record, but I’ll take it.

15. I’m also playing Sierra Ferrell on repeat, specifically her cover of Lesson in Leavin’.

16. A friend recently sent me a message on Voxer saying that she was at the library needing some fiction and pulled up my Substack! I’ve written a lot about books over the years so if you’re looking for some recommendations you might check out this post, this one, or this one! Here are a few I’m loving this summer:

17. I’ve already mentioned this book, but I LOVED Gillian Sandstrom’s, Once Upon a Stranger, and have been practicing my small talk skills the last month or so. It’s something I’d already been doing some, partly inspired by my Sister-in-law (who could have written this book!), but it’s become so fun chatting up strangers lately. I promise I’ll be writing more about this soon!

    

18. Something about this small talk book (as I have been calling it) also goes well with a podcast a friend shared that I can’t stop thinking about from Anne Helen Peterson at Culture Study: Intergenerational Friendships Rule. I have a feeling I’ll be coming back to this one, but wanted to share anyway!

19. Okay back to books! This summer, our sermon series is on Ephesians, and in preparation for teaching I’ve been enjoying N.T. Wright’s The Vision of Ephesians and Nijay K. Gupta’s Paul for the World.

20. I’m reading much more fiction over the summer, and loved the brilliant Emma Straub’s new book — American Fantasy and can’t put down Beth Brower’s series: The Unselected Journals of Ms. Emma M. Lion.

21. As a reminder, all book links are affiliate links with bookshop.org. While I always stand behind reviews / recommendations I do receive a small commission when you purchase books through my links. (A great way to support my work and independent book stores instead of billionaires.)

22. Back to books (again!). I recently finished book 20 of the Inspector Gamache series, and honestly it took me a little time to get into. What I didn’t realize until nearly the end of the book is that I hadn’t read book 19 and it is a sequel. They have similar names, and I guess I just got confused. Whoops!

23. This summer has already been full of murder mysteries! Brian and I loved the Thursday Murder Club movie (I couldn’t get into the book, but I’m going to try again) and we finally watched the most recent Knives Out with our 14 year old and the third Enola Holmes movie was just so fun! (Not linking these, but all three are on Netflix).

24. Brian and I also enjoyed watching How to Get to Heaven from Belfast and LOVED it! It’s like two of our favorite shows — Bad Sisters meets Derry Girls (which makes sense because it's the same creator as Derry Girls)

25. If you have a recommendation on murder mystery movies young teens and tweens can watch (and adults will enjoy!) please let me know!

26. I also welcome movie suggestions that range from 7 year old to adult. It can be a challenge to meet the entertainment needs of a wide span in kids ages. Movies sometimes are great, but our go to is really playing games together.

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27. We love funny games like: Cards Against Humanity (family edition!), Telestrations and Ransom Notes. (I think I’ve mentioned these before).

28. We also play plenty of Catan, Carcassonne, and Ticket to Ride (which I once heard called the “holy trinity” of modern board games - lol.)

29. This summer we’ve logged tons of games, pool time, movies, and other fun things — but I text a friend this week and said that I just pretend to work in the summer. It seems like I’m always a little behind where I expected to be (funny how that works with 3 kids in the house!)

30. One thing I had hoped to do, is write here a little more, after a spring of also not writing as often as I’d hoped! (You might notice a theme)

31. I did miss something I’d wanted to celebrate earlier this year. I’ve been writing here nearly 3 years and in January, I wrote my 100th post here on Substack. It felt like such an accomplishment and I had hoped to write something about it here or celebrate it in some way, but it wasn’t to be — until now!

32. While my most viewed post was written by a dear friend (lol), the second most viewed is one I wrote last summer about delight.

33. You all also tend to like when I write about how we might be participants in God’s healing work in the world.

34. Or this one:

35. I love writing here and look forward to more, so thank you for supporting me!

36. Another Summer-y thing I’ve been thinking about is the 250th anniversary of the United States of America. It’s part of why I didn’t send this out closer to my birthday - I’d hope to have something to say. While I have many things to say and many things I’m thinking about, I’m not sure I have anything that I don’t mind living forever out on the internet. In other words, things are still percolating.

37. We did however celebrate in our own way, fireworks with friends and walking with neighbors of all ages to the “little creek” in our neighborhood for a bicycle/scooter/stroller parade and a cupcake contest, where my daughter won 2nd place!

38. (She checked out the Big Book of Baking for Kids about 1000 times from our library, until my parents finally bought it for her a few weeks ago. It’s fun(and messy) to watch her grow in confidence and independence in the kitchen.)

39. After the parade, a neighbor who spends time restoring the small greenbelt we were gathered near, recited a few poems to the gathered neighbors. As we all ate cupcakes and watermelon he recited The New Colossus, the poem on the Statue of Liberty — give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses…,

40. and lyrics to a Joni Mitchell song, Woodstock where the chorus repeats several times: we are stardust, we are golden, and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.

41. The lyrics to these songs and poems are still percolating as well, and I imagine will be for some time. One thing I do know, is there is a longing for peace and harmony within me just like there was within the women who wrote these poems and songs. I continue to long for another way.

42. As I make my 43rd turn about the sun, I hope to keep imagining this other way — the way of love and peace. I hope to keep wondering how to bring love and peace to my small corner of the world — caring for the tired and poor, talking with strangers, eating prize winning cupcakes, walking with neighbors, reading, writing, celebrating, listening … things you might simply call living.

What about you? How are you imagining another way?

Holly

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Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I’m have two summer mini-retreats left. On July 29th, I’ll be hosting: Delight as a Spiritual Practice at noon CT. Register here! (recording available)

• Later in the summer I’ll be leading: Imagination as a Spiritual Practice (8/26). I’d love for you to join me! Registration and more information here!

• Information on fall offerings and groups coming soon!

  Thanks for reading Alongside You! This post is public so feel free to share it.

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Several weeks ago, as our kids practiced volleyball, my friends and I (the other parents) were chatting about what we were most interested in doing after getting our driver’s licenses.

I recalled how the summer I turned 16, my friends and I drove on the North Dallas Tollway, tossing coins into the toll machines (like proper adults), and listening to the Destiny’s Child record: The Writing’s on the Wall.1

Last week, at the skating rink, I was taken back to the summer of 2000 once again. In preparation for a sermon on Ephesians, I took a break from skating to read N.T. Wright’s book The Vision of Ephesians (as one does).2 I was sitting at a table with the book, pen in my hand, my kids begging me to get back out on the rink,3 when the DJ played Say My Name by Destiny’s Child. How could I stay off the floor, I had to get back out there!

As I skated around the rink, I realized it was all the perfect metaphor for the push and pull of my theological self. So much takes place in my head through reading books, writing papers, and engaging in theological conversation — but much more of my theological thought happens in the other parts of my life — at dinner with family, talking with my hygienist, serving food at the food bank, walking the labyrinth in prayer, and yes, skating around the roller rink.

Both parts of my theological self are important, but I must remember concepts and ideas cannot be separated from my real life or the real lives of others. Today, I’m hoping to bridge these parts of my theological thought, to help us make some sense of the first 15 verses in Ephesians.

First, it’s important to know, original listeners to the book of Ephesians would have in mind that Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection took place during Passover, an Exodus-festival. Passover represents redemption and deliverance from Egypt, and the early verses of Ephesians mirror this. During Jesus’ life the Jewish people found themselves again longing for freedom, but this time from the Roman Empire.

Language in these verses, like chosen and inheritance, remind us of God’s chosen people from the Hebrew Bible, the people of Israel. Now, says the writer of Ephesians, those of us in Christ, are God’s chosen ones, destined for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ.4

When the writer uses language like blood and redemption, listeners would recall both the ancestors that had been liberated from Egypt and the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection. N.T. Wright, says that Ephesians offers a “fresh fulfillment” of the books of Genesis and Exodus.

After being delivered from Egypt and wandering in the wilderness, the Israelites eventually entered the promised land. There, God told them to build a tabernacle, so that I may dwell among them.5 The tabernacle, was the place where humans dwelt alongside God.

We encounter tabernacle language in John chapter 1 as well, when John writes “and the word became flesh and lived among us.”6 The greek word used here means tabernacled, or pitched a tent. Jesus (the word), in all his divinity and humanity was the new tabernacle. In Jesus, God gathered up all things in him. Things in heaven and on earth.7

Our text says that in our belief, we were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit.8 Wright says: God’s purpose was to create, in the middle of human history, a people who lived a different kind of human life…visibly indwelt by the spirit of the God of love… [God] wants to show the world what genuine humanness looks like. Now, the spirit of God dwells within us and we become tabernacles, homes for God.

So, what does genuine humanness look like and what does it mean to be visibly indwelt? Because all of this is great when I’m sitting at the table at the skating rink, reading about God — but what about when I lace my skates up and get out onto the floor?

What happens when a whole bunch of kids show up skating slowly with the walkers?9 Or when the guy skating alone with headphones on, lost in his own music, cuts me off? Or when Destiny’s Child comes on and I can’t help but smile, dance, and sing along? Where do these ideas fit into our lives out in the real world?

Nijay Gupta, in writing about Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s work, suggests that Bonhoeffer was proposing that we not try to escape from the world but be fully immersed in this world with hope that in the power of the Spirit and the way of Christ, we may turn it right side up.10

While in a concentration camp, Bonhoeffer who famously opposed Hitler, wrote that God’s glorious plan is the human being living out of the transcendent, here and now for the blessing of this world.11

In Jesus, we have the example of genuine humanness and what it means to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit. We can follow Jesus by doing the very first thing he did – put on flesh and dwell here in this world.

I firmly believe that we are not just here waiting around for some future time or place. We are here and alive now. Like Jesus, we are tabernacles, homes for God, a place where all things are being gathered up in him — things in heaven and things on earth.

I know there is a lot of talk about distraction, presence, and paying attention – but for good reason. There are so many distractions that make us numb to reality. Numb to the here and now. There is so much that keeps us from living as genuine humans. As people who do not turn away from the heartache of this world, or the joy.

There is an old Terry Gross episode of All Things Considered, where she interviews children’s book author Maurice Sendak.12 It’s a beautiful interview, that takes place just months before his death, and Sendak moves between talking about the joy and pain of his life seamlessly. As the episode closes up, he encourages Gross to simply — live your life, live your life, live your life.

I think this is what I am getting at here, as Gupta writes, full immersion in this world is how we change it. Being awake to the realities of our world, brings us a step closer to the new creation we long for. We are here, now, living as genuine humans, bringing together heaven and earth.

And each time we taste real life, we are ushering in more heaven, more hope, more joy, more justice — more healing into our world. Jesus came right into the very center of human life, and lived a life of genuine humanness among us. May we follow this path set out for us.

May you live today as temple, tabernacle, home for God in this world,13

Holly

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News & Updates

• I still have space in my Spiritual Direction Group for clergy & ministry leaders, you can find out more information and register here!

• I’m hosting three mini-retreats this summer, next week, on June 17th I’ll be hosting: Play as a Spiritual Practice at noon CT. Register here! (recording available)

• Later in the summer I’ll be leading: Delight as a Spiritual Practice (7/29), and Imagination as a Spiritual Practice (8/26). I’d love for you to join me! Registration and more information here!

  

I have attended several graduations recently. I watched friends and classmates complete their time in seminary1 — some continuing the work they’re already doing and others taking their first job after years of schooling.

My 5th grader donned a cap and gown to close up her time in elementary school. I cheered loudly as she and her friends tossed their caps into the air and mostly (surprisingly) held tears back, saving them for a solo road trip the next morning. The next day, I woke up early and drove to my nephew’s graduation, feeling like I’d only just traveled the same road to hold him and his siblings as newborns.

Each graduation reminded me of Octavia Butler’s take on change in Parable of the Sower. Specifically, that one thing we can count on is change. She writes: “change is… unavoidable, irresistible, ongoing...”

The salutatorian at my nephew’s graduation spoke about change, but also about how drawn to the ordinary he is. He shared about noticing fractals in nature as he drove to school each day and the joy he felt around a fire pit with friends. He told us how he planned to return to the ordinary parts of his life for comfort amidst the upheaval of beginning college life.

I’ve always thought of the ordinary as something we must learn to embrace, but this student suggested something else altogether. He made me wonder if the ordinary parts of our lives— doing the dishes, driving to work, tucking kids in at night — might be what grounds us when change inevitably comes.

And so, as we enter the season of Ordinary Time, I’m reflecting on what it means to live an ordinary life with attunement. One definition of attune, is to make aware — and there are many ways people express this — pay attention, notice, be present, be where you are etc. etc.

It, of course, can sometimes feel like another item on your to-do list when you’re busy,2 or like more pressure when you’re already overwhelmed at trying to get everything right. Sometimes I don’t want to pay attention — I just want to scroll Substack, or watch another episode of a favorite TV show, or take a nap.

And yet, when I move through life attuned to what is around me I feel more grounded and whole. Jessica Snell writes that Ordinary Time is our chance to be whole people — integrated people. Perhaps these ordinary moments of attunement are not something to struggle to embrace, but the very foundation of our lives.

I read recently that living with attunement is another way to describe contemplation. It’s a pause, a noticing, a willingness to be in your body and mind at the same time.

So, as we move toward Ordinary Time, I wonder if you might take on one small ordinary practice of attunement not because we have to, instead as a way of grounding ourselves. Here are a few ideas (some old, some new!):

• take a few deeps breaths after turning on your car and before you drive away.3

• when you sit down to dinner (alone or with others) recall a few things that delighted you that day.

• notice delights all day! 4

• snuggle your dog just a second longer

• resist taking a photo of something and just enjoy the moment5

• listen deeply to a neighbor, a child, a friend, yourself

• look for a bird out your window

• take a walk (or a drive) without playing a podcast or audio book

• drink your coffee or even the first sip slowly and enjoy it

Earlier in the week, I joined with many of you (and many who still plan to watch the recording) for a mini-retreat focusing on the ordinary. As part of the retreat, I read aloud one of my favorite poems, Mary Oliver’s Mornings at Blackwater, which ends this way:

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,

and put your lips to the world.
And live
your life.

Perhaps our ordinary lives invite us to do just this — to put our lips to the world, and live our (very ordinary) lives.

With you in the transition of the seasons,

Holly

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Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I still have space in two spiritual direction groups for the summer, if you’re interested, you can find out more information and register here.

• I’m hosting three mini-retreats this summer: Play as a Spiritual Practice (6/17), Delight as a Spiritual Practice (7/29), and Imagination as a Spiritual Practice (8/26). I’d love for you to join me! Registration coming soon!

I was hoping to send out an essay this week, and I even started writing a post for you, but as I wrote, I couldn’t quite figure out what I was trying to communicate. I was hemming and hawing around the topic, without saying much of anything.

I realized, after a bit, that perhaps the ideas I was wanting to express to you weren’t quite yet solidified within me. So I paused and tucked away that essay for another day (maybe next week? maybe next year?). I suppose I need to take that famous advice from Rilke and “live the questions” and then “without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”1

So while I’m over here living the questions, I thought I’d pop in and update you on the books I’ve been reading the last few months. I took some really wonderful classes, but I’m just sharing the non school related books — perhaps if you’re like me you’re working on a summer reading list and want a few more to add!

Fiction

1. The Road to Tender Hearts by Annie Hartnett

2. Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy

3. There Goes the Neighborhood by Jada Adia (YA Novel)

4. James by Percival Everett

5. Wreck by Catherine Newman

6. The Correspondent by Virginia Evans

Non-Fiction, Poetry etc.

1. Begin Again, and Again, and Again by Alessandra Olanow (art + essays + poetry)

2. All The Honey by Rosemary Wahtola Trommer (poems)

3. How the Stars Get In Your Bones by Jan Richardson (poems)

4. Full of Myself by Austin Channing Brown (memoir)

As a reminder, I only list books that I recommend. They weren’t each my favorite book of all time, but I enjoyed them all!

I have a few books on my list for the summer that I’m really excited about.

1. Once Upon a Stranger: The Science of how Small Talk can add up to a Big Life by Gillian Sandstorm (I’ve already started this one and love it and can’t wait to be chatty at the pool this summer!)

2. You and I Eat The Same edited by Chris Ying

3. And some new fiction from Elizabeth Strout and Emma Straub (Really hoping for tons of fiction reading this summer!)

What about you? What have you been reading lately? Anything I need to add to my summer list?

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Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me at my next retreat, Preparing for the Ordinary, on Thursday, May 27th at noon CT (recording available)! More information and registration here.

• This summer, I am offering a spiritual direction group open to anyone interested! This group of 4 to 6 attendees will meet together (via zoom) to bear witness to the workings of God in their own lives and those in the group. Each hour-and-a-half session will include a guided time of centering, time for sharing, silence, and prayer. Register here!

• I’ll also be hosting a spiritual direction group specifically for clergy and ministry leaders. You can find more information and register for that group here.

• Summer Mini-Retreat Series in June, July, and August - Play as a Spiritual Practice, Delight as a Spiritual Practice, and Imagination as a Spiritual Practice (more information and registration coming soon!)

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I hope to see you at one of my retreats or groups this summer!

with you,

Holly

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On Monday, after I sliced up strawberries for lunches, poured milk into cereal bowls, and my husband left to drop kids off at school, I sat down to comb through my email. I read Heather Delaney Reese’s3 thoughts about a recent Truth Social meltdown from the president and felt utterly helpless. I am exhausted from the non-stop deluge of harm, lies, and violence. I am weary of the feeling that there is nothing I can do to make a difference, and I’m angry with people who got us into this mess in the first place.

After reading, I sat for a few minutes taking deep breaths and jotting down notes in my journal — sitting with the question I’ve asked myself a million times in the last 10 years — What is mine to do?

After Reese’s essay, I clicked on Liz Bucar’s4 post in my inbox. In it, Bucar quotes a colleague, David Tracy, who writes: “Religion at its best is really just a form of communal imagination.” Bucar adds, “It’s imagination enacted, people refusing to accept that the present is all there is, insisting with their actual bodies and their actual time that a different kind of life together is possible.”

I say my own version of this often: I believe another way is possible.

I’ve often said that as a child, I did not have the imagination for the work I believe God was calling me to. I had never seen a woman preach or heard the word “pastor” attached to a woman’s name. I knew children’s ministers and women’s ministers. I knew of women authors and speakers — but not a single pastor.

It took many, many years to finally build the imagination that led to my accepting a call to become who I was created to be. I’m practiced in this. I’ve been in process of imagining another way for decades now, though it didn’t all happen at once.

It takes time to build our imaginations. It takes time to see that a different kind of life together is possible. It’s not something we can build overnight, but it’s work we must do.

Christians have a blueprint in the life of Jesus for this different kind of future. The subversive life of Jesus helps to build our imagination.

Jesus always looks to the “least of these:”5 to the people without power6, without wealth7, without much of anything they can offer in return.8 Jesus came to “bring good news to the poor,” “to proclaim release to the captives,” and “to set free those who are oppressed.”9 Jesus says to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, and to clothe the naked.10 Jesus says to “love your neighbor as yourself.”11 We see in his life what Bucar writes about; he insisted with his actual time and his actual body that there is another way.

And we can too.

We can insist on naming the inconsistencies and the harm of Christian Nationalism. We can insist on a posture of mutuality and kindness. We can insist on living from a place of abundance instead of scarcity — giving generously of our resources — not only offering bread to those in need, but asking “why doesn’t this person have bread in the first place?”12 We can insist on loving our neighbors as ourselves.

We can insist with our actual time and actual bodies (and I’ll add, our actual imaginations) that another way is possible.

with you in boldly imagining that new way,

Holly

P.S. How are you imagining a better way? Do you volunteer time or money? Check on an aging neighbor? Hold crying babies at church so parents can take communion? Buy second hand? Let me know in the comments!

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Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me at my next retreat, Preparing for the Ordinary, on Thursday, May 27th at noon CT (recording available)! More information and registration here.

• This summer, I am offering a spiritual direction group open to anyone interested! This group of 4 to 6 attendees will meet together (via zoom) to bear witness to the workings of God in their own lives and those in the group. Each hour-and-a-half session will include a guided time of centering, time for sharing, silence, and prayer. Register here!

• I’ll also be hosting a spiritual direction group specifically for clergy and ministry leaders. You can find more information and register for that group here.

• If you’d like to stay up to date on my most recent offerings, you can sign-up for my monthly newsletter here. (scroll to the bottom!)

  Thanks for reading Alongside You! This post is public so feel free to share it.

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Last week I held an Easter mini-treat: Preparing to Notice. This is one of my favorites because I love the themes we circle around — new life, renewal, and resurrection. This retreat takes a closer look at my favorite Martin Luther quote: The Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.

Springtime has become a time to notice new life all around me. To practice resurrection, as Wendell Berry writes1.

Traci Smith2 puts it so well too: To notice resurrection in the everyday is to be in tune with the greatest truth of the Christian faith: death is not ultimately victorious. There is always hope. There is new life all around.

But, how can we possibly look for new life, or notice resurrection when there seems to be so much suffering and destruction all around us? How might we practice resurrection amidst violence and war?

I don’t have the answers, but I do believe that we don’t have to choose only life or death. Resurrection or crucifixion. They are part of each other, and one does not exist without the other. Today I brought you a few short practices from last week’s retreat, so you can practice holding two things at once.

Name the Suffering

• Begin by finding a few quiet minutes to pause and reflect. You might sit on your back porch or in a comfy chair.

• Take several deep breaths, relaxing into the moment.

• Start by naming the suffering in the world. Journaling or in silent prayer, hold those close who are at war, hungry, displaced, afraid, unsafe, grieving, or lonely. Be honest about the realities of our world.

• Next move closer to home and name the suffering around you. Either in your journal or in prayer, hold your neighbors, co-workers, extended family, church community and whoever else in prayer as you acknowledge their suffering.

• Now, name the suffering and hardships in your own life. Do not let what is happening elsewhere keep you from naming your own grief, stress, anxieties, hurt, or overwhelm. God listens to our prayers.

• Finally, return to your deep breathing releasing to God the suffering of all creation.

Practice Resurrection:

• Using the ideas and quotes I mentioned earlier sit with the idea of what it means to practice or notice resurrection. You might pull your journal back out or simply sit in silent prayer.

• Next name what is. Name the ways that you are already noticing the new life all around you. Do you watch the birds out your window or tend a garden or care for children? Or listen for laughter? Have you mended a relationship or forgiven someone? Have you helped out a neighbor or friend? Have you worked to dismantle harmful systems? Do you care for creation? Name the ways you are already practicing resurrection.

• Now spend a few minutes naming the invitation. Where is God inviting you to notice or practice resurrection? Where are you called to participate in the healing work of God? How can you be changed by resurrection?

I’ll leave you with the words Ingrid Goff-Maidoff leaves us with in her poem The Listening Bridge:

Remain quiet and listen
for what the voice born of stillness
might say: perhaps, simply:
Love. Carry on. Practice Kindness.
Have affection for this day.

alongside you,

Holly

Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me at my next retreat, Preparing for the Ordinary, on Thursday, May 27th at noon CT (recording available)! More information and registration here.

• This summer, I am offering a spiritual direction group open to anyone interested! This group of 4 to 6 attendees will meet together (via zoom) to bear witness to the workings of God in their own lives and those in the group. Each hour-and-a-half session will include a guided time of centering, time for sharing, silence, and prayer. Register here!

• I’ll also be hosting a spiritual direction group specifically for clergy and ministry leaders. You can find more information and register for that group here.

• If you are interested in individual spiritual direction and would like to connect and talk further, please email me at: hollyporterphillips@gmail.com.

  More Info!

This year, I’m observing Holy Week with tenderness. I arrive to these days with trepidation and wonder. I arrive tired and hopeful. Resistant and open. I’m holding it all — the sorrow, the waiting, the celebration. I am feeling it all, all at once.

And in response to this feeling, I’m connecting with you here, on Good Friday, Silent Saturday, and today, Easter Sunday.

Today’s lectionary reading is John 20:1-18.

In the story, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb in which Jesus was buried, and finds the stone rolled away. She runs to tell Peter and John what she saw, and in response, they rush to have a look for themselves. Peter and John leave with differing responses, but Mary stays. She weeps. First angels appear, and then Jesus. She initially assumes he is the gardener, but eventually recognizes Jesus and calls out saying “teacher!” In response to her interaction, Mary returns to the disciples exclaiming “I have seen the Lord!”

Today in the Christian Church, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We tell of the good news that death does not have the final word. We celebrate renewal, redemption, resurrection, and new life. In our text, we read of Peter, John, and Mary Magdalene, and their varied responses to finding the empty tomb.

It can be easy to sort of get stuck inside the tomb. Asking over and over — did it happen, or didn't it? But the thing is, nobody saw. Not Peter who the Church would later be built on, not John who wrote down this account, and not Mary Magdalene, who would become the first evangelist of the gospel, taking Jesus’ command seriously and telling others “I have seen the Lord.”

Barbara Brown Taylor writes: What happened in the tomb was entirely between Jesus and God. For the rest of us, Easter began the moment the gardener said, “Mary!” and she knew who he was. That is where the miracle happened and goes on happening -- not in the tomb but in the encounter with the living God.

We have only what Mary Magdalene had on that first Easter morning – an encounter with the Gardener and Cultivator of Life. We have the experience of lives changed through sharing good news of a God who is not dead, but alive and among us.

Jesus appears to his friends four more times before the gospel of John ends, and each time the disciples feel a little more confident. They become more grounded in their experiences. They believe that the holy spirit is among them and they become emboldened to carry out the good news of Jesus – news of neighborly love, of justice and peace. Jesus tells them: tend to my sheep, feed my flock, follow me – and they do.

Over spring break, my family took a long road trip to southern Utah to see several National Parks, stopping in Arizona along the way to see the Grand Canyon. I’m not sure if you’ve seen it, but the Grand Canyon is incredible! You cannot take it all in at once, as it covers 1.2 million square miles and is 1 mile deep in some parts.

I learned that some of the igneous and sedimentary rocks are 1.8 billion years old! The Colorado River however, carved its path much more recently. It transformed, shaped, and changed it into the canyon we know, closer to 6 millions years ago. The Grand Canyon is home to 11 federally recognized tribes, and hosts 12,000 year old human artifacts. It is home to 450 species of birds, nearly 100 mammals, plus tons of invertebrates, reptiles, fish, butterflies, and a huge variety of plants — I could go on!!

We hiked down a ways into the canyon, and as I sat there looking out at the vastness of the canyon, and with the huge blue sky above me, and the people at the top of the trail looking like ants – I could not help but feel wonder, smallness, and part of the interconnected web of creation.

It’s good to know the statistics of the Grand Canyon I listed earlier, to listen to experts, or look at pictures – but to really begin to understand how expansive it is, you need to experience it. We need to look over the edge, or even better lace up our boots and hike down into the canyon.

And so today I’m wondering: How will our experiences and encounters with the living God shape, transform, and change us and our world? We can get stuck in the empty tomb trying to prove something or we can live our lives as people who have experienced something miraculous. We can be like Peter, and John and Mary Magdalene and believe in the resurrection, but today we celebrate that God has invited us to an encounter.

And in response to these encounters, we get to join God in making all things new. We can follow Jesus’ words to the disciples, feeding the sheep, tending the flock, following Jesus’ ways of justice and love. We can accept the invitation to participate in the healing work that Jesus began.

When we allow our experiences with Jesus to transform our lives, we can then join Mary Magdalene in sharing the good news of Easter – news that death and suffering do not have the final word, but that God is always making all things new.

With you in the wonder of our encounters -

Holly

Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me, Thursday, April 9, from noon to 1:30pm CT for my next mini-retreat: Preparing To Notice: an Eastertide, lunchtime mini-retreat. More information and registration here.

• Save the date for my Ordinary Time mini-retreat: Wednesday, May 27, noon CT - Preparing for the Ordinary. (more info and registration to come)

• This summer I will be offering a summer spiritual direction group for clergy & ministry leaders. More details to come! If you’re interested please reach out and I’ll let you know as I have more information.

• I’ll also be hosting a Summer Book Club! (more information & registration to come)

• If you are interested in individual spiritual direction and would like to connect and talk further, email me at: hollyporterphillips@gmail.com.

Yesterday I wrote these words:

This year, I’m observing Holy Week with tenderness. I arrive to these days with trepidation and wonder. I arrive tired and hopeful. Resistant and open. I’m holding it all — the sorrow, the waiting, the celebration. I am feeling it all, all at once.1

And in response to this feeling, I’m connecting with you here, on Good Friday, Silent Saturday, and Easter Sunday.

Today is Silent Saturday. Today is the day we wait, and doubt, and ask questions. We sit in the liminality of our lives. The in-between. Neither death, nor resurrection.

Jacqueline Woods writes this of the day:

The waiting of Silent Saturday is the triumph of injustice, alienation, and violence—all without a word from God. You don’t have to pretend the wait isn’t agony. If it feels like God is silent, say so. Your doubts, your grief, are safe here.

Silent Saturday trains us in the liminal, as we make space for a pain that doesn’t immediately resolves. How does the silence of God form us? What do you hear in the silence? Sometimes our grief is the most sacred sound.

Even the silence
has a story to tell you.
Just Listen. Listen.2

Today is not a day for words, and I don’t want to overcrowd you, but I hope you’ll listen to the silence today. In whatever form that may take — a pause for one more exhale,3 a walk around a labyrinth, sitting in your car a few extra minutes before walking into work, or a deep breath after the kids are in bed — there is no right way to attend to the story silence has to tell you.

With you in the sacredness of this day -

Holly

Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me, Thursday, April 9, from noon to 1:30pm CT for my next mini-retreat: Preparing To Notice: an Eastertide, lunchtime mini-retreat. More information and registration here.

• Save the date for my Ordinary Time mini-retreat: Wednesday, May 27, noon CT - Preparing for the Ordinary. (more info and registration to come)

• This summer I will be offering a summer spiritual direction group for clergy & ministry leaders. More details to come! If you’re interested please reach out and I’ll let you know as I have more information.

• I’ll also be hosting a Summer Book Club! (more information & registration to come)

• If you are interested in individual spiritual direction and would like to connect and talk further, email me at: hollyporterphillips@gmail.com.

Some years, I am all about Easter and feel rejuvenated by the resurrection, and the new life it celebrates! But others I resonate more with Good Friday, feeling a comfort in acknowledging death, suffering, and pain. And some years, I find myself in the midst of doubt. Questioning and waiting in the liminality of life, connecting with the quiet observance of Silent Saturday.

This year, I’m observing Holy Week with tenderness. I arrive to these days with trepidation and wonder. I arrive tired and hopeful. Resistant and open. I’m holding it all — the sorrow, the waiting, the celebration. I am feeling it all, all at once.1

It’s been a while since I’ve written here, and I was hopeful to get something to you one of the days of Holy Week or Easter Weekend, but as I began to imagine which, I couldn’t choose! As I said — I’m holding it all this year. So you’ll be hearing from me each of the next three days.

Today, tomorrow, and Sunday, you’ll receive a short reflection in your inbox as we enter into the mystery that is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Today’s thoughts are a repost from 2024, but these words ring true for me all the same. I hope you’ll hold the gravity of this day that represents the suffering not of just one man, but of all humanity.

Over the last few weeks, the idea of keeping our eyes on Jesus has come up in conversations with directees and others several times. So I’ve been sitting with it. I followed my imagination to whatever images of Jesus came up. I began to see him telling stories to kids, with women at a well, petting lambs(!?), and, of course, walking on water. What I wasn’t expecting, is that I no longer went straight to an image of Jesus hanging on the cross.

As my faith has evolved¹ and i’ve untangled theologies and theories — in many ways I’ve shifted my focus to Jesus’ life rather than his death. I’m beginning to realize that in the shift, I’ve lost something. When I stopped imagining Jesus hanging from the cross — I lost the comfort and solidarity of Jesus as one who suffered.

Rev. Dr. Veronice Miles writes this: “What if [Jesus’] prolonged silence and painful cry from the cross is really intended to call us toward a life of vocation and embolden us to stand in solidarity with those who suffer, so that anguished cries might cease? Maybe Jesus’ cry is not his alone, but a timeless cry on behalf of millions of suffering people who have felt and will feel forsakened by God and humanity, lest someone answer their call. Perhaps his anguished cry is intended to touch us at the core of our being so that we, his present-day disciples, may remember his teachings and endeavor to life therein.”

On Good Friday we can simply say look at what happened. Before we jump to Easter Sunday or atonement theories and definitely before we sift through all our (many, many) questions, we can look to the suffering of Jesus. We can see ourselves there. We, like Jesus, have been embarrassed, hated, in pain, humiliated, betrayed, exhausted, and have surely felt abandoned by God. We can see ourselves in his suffering yes, but we can go beyond that — we can see the world’s collective suffering there hanging with him. Good Friday invites us to see the suffering all around us more clearly and as Miles writes it can invite us to stand in solidarity with those who suffer.

With you in the pain of this world,

Holly

P.S. You might connect today with this poem from Jan Richardson, Song of the Winding Sheet or this breath prayer from Cole Arthur Riley —

Inhale: This is too much to hold
Exhale: I will grieve with God

Links & Spiritual Direction News

• I’d love for you to join me, Thursday, April 9, from noon to 1:30pm CT for my next mini-retreat: Preparing To Notice: an Eastertide, lunchtime mini-retreat. More information and registration here.

• Save the date for my Ordinary Time mini-retreat: Wednesday, May 27, noon CT - Preparing for the Ordinary. (more info and registration to come)

• This summer I will be offering a summer spiritual direction group for clergy & ministry leaders. More details to come! If you’re interested please reach out and I’ll let you know as I have more information.

• I’ll also be hosting a Summer Book Club! (more information & registration to come)

• If you are interested in individual spiritual direction and would like to connect and talk further, email me at: hollyporterphillips@gmail.com.

As I mentioned last week1, in January I took an intensive class called World, God, and Self in the Borderlands. In one of my readings for the class, I came across a short acceptance speech from Gloria Anzaldúa, upon receiving an award in education. In it she writes of the importance of creating fertile ground for transformation. Anzaldúa generously offers her listeners one suggestion for how they might begin to create this fertile ground, she says:

Self-education requires that we open all of our senses, not just our minds, and allow ourselves to be changed by the books and perspectives of other people.

Perhaps this is what the writer of Romans is getting at when they write: be transformed by the renewing of your mind so that you may discern what is the will of God … We know the will of God is for us to love our neighbors (which again, is everyone!)2 — and Jesus tells us to or shows us how to love our neighbors in almost every story in the gospels. And so I think we are right to heed Anzaldúa’s advice:

Create fertile ground for transformation with self-education.

Find voices that are different than yours in every way imaginable — different cultures, ethnicities, and abilities for a start. Listen to queer voices and those who are older than you and younger than you (including children!), those with more education and less, those with differing political views3 and those who find their home in different denominations and religions.

It’s not hard to find voices different from your own — listening to colleagues, neighbors, and friends is a great place to start. Or maybe, or when you sit down at church or attend an event at your kids’ school. When you check out at the grocery store or the post office — or really anywhere you go there are people with different experiences than yours. And the internet is certainly full of them. Your library’s bookshelves are full of them. Perhaps your own bookshelves are full of them?

As a starting point, here are a few voices I turn to4:

• Kat Armas - Somethings Abuelita (substack) and check out her newest book: Liturgies for Resistance

• Adrienne Maree Brown - Emergent Strategies (life changing book!) and I recently picked up Holding Change

• Jemar Tisby - The Justice Briefing (substack)

• Jeff Chu - Notes of a Make Believe Farmer (substack) and I loved his most recent book Good Soil

• Austin Channing Brown - Sign up for her newsletter: Banned here.

I began this post last week, but instead traded it for a post about justice, love, and action. It felt like what was needed at the time, but I don’t want to skip this step. I don’t think our self-education can be separated from our love of neighbor. They work together — they inform each other. And so today, I hope you’ll expand just a little. You’ll open yourself just a little to a new perspective, a new experience.

With you in it all -

Holly

P.S. Lets continue this conversation in the comments, please share what voices you turn to that are different than your own?

Leave a comment

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My Lent retreat: Preparing for Renewal, will be on February 12th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here. We will again look at peacemaking in this retreat — imagining Lent as time to renew ourselves as peacemakers.

Share Alongside You

As I write this, my younger two kids are outside playing in the snow (ice? wintry mix?). They’re bundled up in whatever we had in a tub called "snow clothes” deep in the back of my daughter’s closet, under old toys and a couple of suitcases. They’re wearing hand-me-down ski pants, boots that don’t quite fit, and mismatched gloves. Later, they’ll walk down to borrow a sled from our neighbor whose kids are long grown.

I’m sitting with a cup of coffee at my kitchen table while they laugh and squeal and it’s not lost on me that as I tap away, others live in fear of deportation or imprisonment or death. I’m aware as I sit in the warmth and safety of my home, thousands of Minnesotans risk their lives in solidarity with those targeted by I.C.E.

I finished reading Percival Everett’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel, James, a few weeks ago. It’s an inspiring and heartbreaking retelling of Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, told from enslaved Jim’s perspective.

There is much to say about the book, but the thing that I keep coming back to, or perhaps the part of the story that continues to haunt me, is that of a minor white character. Without giving too much away, I’ll say that this character at first seems to say all the right things. He pays James for work and treats him civilly, but later turns out to be as racist and full of self-interest as the other white characters in the narrative. He sees himself as superior to the Black people in the story — enslaved or free.

This representation of whiteness was no accident from Everett and continues to persist. We see it everyday. We perhaps, live it every day. So many of us thinking we are saying the right things and “doing the work,” but too often, we are more concerned with our own comfort than liberty and justice for all or loving our neighbor.

It reminds me of a famous quote from Martin Luther King Jr. —

I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to 'order' than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice …

I am often drawn to the absence of tension, which MLK calls a negative peace. It’s easier. It keeps my life rolling. I like order. I don’t have to encounter too much that makes me uncomfortable or uneasy. My relationships stay steady, my sermons come together quickly, I keep saving for retirement, and getting packages easily delivered to my doorstep.

A positive peace on the other hand, according to MLK, is the presence of justice. Justice is messy1, uncomfortable, and it asks something of us. Justice calls us to move toward a beloved community2, where everyone belongs. Where everyone matters. Where everyone is equal. Justice is the message of Jesus.

I wrote about this recently,3 but at the beginning of his ministry, in the Gospel of Luke4, Jesus reads these words from the book of Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim
release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free

These are words of justice. And of course, he doesn’t stop there. Later Jesus will command us to love your neighbor as yourself. This radical and subversive commandment, should we choose to follow, requires us to ask ourselves everyday: who are my neighbors and how can I love them today?

I’ve been immersed in an intensive January course titled: World, God, and Self in the Borderlands. In the class we have been attempting to identify borders — both figurative and literal — that exist in our lives. Since I live and attend seminary in Texas, we’ve focused quite a bit of our time on the Mexico-Texas border — diving into history, mestizo-theology, and even poetry.

This class has pushed me to ask who is my neighbor? in new ways. I’ve further questioned my own complacency as a white moderate. I’ve again opened up to discover holes in my knowledge and understanding, biases that need to be dismantled, and tendencies to assume that the Anglo retellings of history are the right ones or the only ones.5

As I sit today looking out at my backyard, covered in snow, thinking of friends who are immigrants living in fear of traveling to see family, as I pray for those fearful to go to work, or leave their homes, as I worry about those in Minnesota in the freezing temps (much colder than here!) I have to ask myself:

Who are my neighbors and how can I love them today?

As we all know it’s not enough to say we love someone, it’s our actions that show them we care. So today I’ve pulled together a few ideas, more for myself than anything, but I thought you might find them helpful. If you’re like me and wanting to take a step toward positive peace, toward beloved community, toward love — here are a few places to begin:

• If you’re stuck at home, begin by checking on the neighbors that live on your street: Do they have what they need? Can you drop off some soup? Do you have a sled they can borrow?6

• Another way you can send love while you’re stuck at home: Garrett Bucks at The White Pages created this form for us to send “love letters” to Minneapolis activists. He then collects them and sends them along. Once you fill it out, you’ll be directed to a page with ways to give and be involved with the folks on the ground in Minnesota. (You can read what others have written, here.)

• You might check out this page or this page to give specifically toward efforts in Minnesota.

• I like these ideas from Leona Waller. She reminds us that small acts can go a long way when we all join together. Things like small donations to immigration lawyers, divesting from companies supporting ICE, and calling your senators!

• Calling your senators can be especially helpful right now as they’ll soon vote on a bill that has already passed in the house. The bill includes 10 billion dollars in additional funding for I.C.E. If you live in Texas you can reach John Cornyn at 512-469-6035 and Ted Cruz at 512-916-5834. (www.5calls.org offers a script at the bottom of this page).

• I LOVE this free Abolish ICE poster from one of my favorite artists Phoebe Wahl. You might print off a few and pass them around.

• There are many other ways to love your neighbor too. I have written a lot about gun violence, and offer some actionable steps here if you’re interested.

• It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, but start where you are. Put extra food or some diapers in your next order and donate them. Buy books from a local bookstore, read books with diverse perspectives to your kids (and yourself!), write a kind note to a teacher, donate a few hours of your time this month, skip Amazon and Target when you need new socks or tape, check on a friend or neighbor —

It all matters. Each step we take toward loving our neighbors, matters— and spoiler alert, everyone is your neighbor!

Please continue this conversation in the comments, if you have links, ideas etc.

Leave a comment

With you in the messy peacemaking work of justice -

Holly

P.S. Here is a personal way you can love your neighbor — my friend.

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone (or are anyone) interested please feel free to connect us!

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My Lent retreat: Preparing for Renewal, will be on February 12th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here. We will again look at peacemaking in this retreat — imagining Lent as time to renew ourselves as peacemakers.

  

Yesterday’s lectionary passage was the baptism of Jesus in the gospel of Matthew. When I first sat to write my sermon, I wasn’t sure which direction to take it. I’d enjoyed thinking about Advent and Christmas stories, from the underside of history1, and wasn’t sure how to tell this story through that lens.

It didn’t take long though, to see that Jesus began his ministry similarly to his arrival. He was born into poverty, oppression, and without power or standing — and not much had changed by the time he’d found himself submerged in the Jordan River. Some commentators suggested that Jesus’ baptism was something like a coronation.

Upon reading this, I immediately thought of King Charles — I even asked my congregation what words would you use to describe his coronation? Some said fancy, rooted in tradition, extravagant etc., but I couldn’t believe no one offered the words that immediately come to mind for me: ridiculous, over-the-top, stupid.

In Jesus’ time a coronation was seen as the ritual in which a king or pharaoh would be transformed and received as both human and divine. Similar to today, it was an elaborate ceremony, and viewed as a rebirth, often with rituals of cleansing with water and anointing with oil. It held two roles in antiquity — to acknowledge the king’s human lineage as well as his2 divine role. Kings were seen as the mediator between God or the gods and humanity.

I think we are seeing something like this in the story of Jesus baptism. Just a few chapters before in Matthew 1, the gospel writer lays out Jesus’ lineage through Joseph, connecting him to the abrahamic fathers. After he is baptized, a dove descends on him and a voice from the heavens says: This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.3

One commentator, Seung Yang, writes this is a strange and humiliating sort of coronation for a strange and humble sort of king. On top of this odd scene, we cannot forget the eccentricities of John the Baptist, who is the one baptizing Jesus. Only a few verses before this story, John is described as a voice in the wilderness, wearing camel’s hair, and eating locusts. Not exactly the Archbishop of Canterbury.4

When Jesus arrives, John has been baptizing in the Jordan River, yelling out to anyone who would listen: repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!5 Jesus makes it clear that John is to baptize him and John is like: who me? no, definitely not6. And Jesus says to him: Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.7

If this is a coronation, then this king is putting himself in the place of his subjects. Though of course Jesus doesn’t see himself as this sort of king. The language of king and kingdom, are used as a subversive literary tactics, and even this coronation ritual is meant to turn things upside down. It’s meant to make us think twice about power, authority, and hierarchy. It’s supposed to make us question systems and structures.

So, when we read this story, we have to ask, why would Jesus mark the beginning of his ministry being baptized in the Jordan river, by his oppressed, poor, humble, wild cousin?

This has been a really intense week8 in the United States — more violence, more division, more lies, more abuse of power. And yet, I keep coming back to the text. Wondering if it still matters. Wondering, what does it mean for Jesus to be baptized? And especially in this way? Why would Jesus say that for him to be baptized by John, or at all – fulfills all righteousness?

Matthew uses this word “righteousness” seven times in his gospel, and Yang writes that in the Hebrew Bible and early Jewish literature, this word refers to one’s ethical response to God… [This word] exposes the most characteristic feature of who Jesus is: Jesus the Messiah is the Son of God, who humbly obeys the will of God.

And as it turns out, the will of God is for Jesus to begin his ministry and message to the world being subjugated and dunked under water by a person without a home, who lives under oppression, who says he’s not worthy enough to carry Jesus’ sandals. What message does this send to those in the crowd watching it unfold? To readers of the gospels for centuries? To us today?

What does it mean to follow Jesus? Jesus who befriends women, and is kind to children and tells us to forgive and love. Jesus who is baptized into a life of solidarity with those on the margins. Jesus who dies at the hands of empirical rulers who don’t care about him or his message. What does it mean to follow this Jesus?

Before he arrives John is proclaiming: repent for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near, as he baptizes others. In greek, this word repent, is μετανοέω or metanoia – a change of mind, an inward change. I’ve heard it defined as : the changing of a mind that leads to the changing of a life.

Sarah Bessey writes repentance is actually a beautiful, life-giving reorientation toward God’s good path of flourishing with ourselves, our neighbors, and our world.

Luckily for us, we don’t have to connect the dots ourselves. John gives us some ideas on what it means to repent. The gospel of Luke has this same story, but with an extra paragraph in John’s sermon that proceeds Jesus’ baptism. In the middle of his sermon, he’s interrupted and the crowd asks: what, then, should we do? And John responds this way: Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise. Tax collectors also ask: what, then, should we do? And he says: collect no more than the amount prescribed for you. And then once more he is asked, what, then, should we do? And John says: Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.9

John says: give your coats, be satisfied, and take only what you need.

This is the way we repent. This is the way we reorient ourselves to God. This is how we follow Jesus. This is the way we fulfill righteousness — our ethical response to the will of God. Not a to-do list, but a response to God who calls to us the way God calls out to Jesus – this is my child, whom I love, and with whom I am well pleased. If Jesus is baptized in solidarity with us, then God calls to us in solidarity with Jesus.

And then, we respond to the love of God, by reflecting that love back into the world. It begins with us stretching our imagination to see another way. Each time we return to these ancient stories, God will remind us: it’s not what you think. There is another way, a way of flourishing for all – and it begins with you, with me, with us.

We may want to jump straight to overturning hierarchy, and dismantling systems, but John says it’s simpler than that: reorientation is giving your coat. Jesus will later say love your neighbor as yourself. And each time we feed the hungry, or donate diapers, or prioritize fair wages, or pick up trash in a park or place a vote against violence – we expand our imagination to this new way.

Each time we offer kindness in the school pick up line, or befriend someone who has had to flee their home, or care for a child, or sit with someone grieving, or pick up our neighbors mail – our imagination grows.

Some of us may have barriers in our way, in the form of privilege and wealth – but stories like this invite us into seeing something different. In the strange and humble baptism of Jesus we remember that Jesus came so that we (the collective we of humanity) may have life abundant. And as we reorient ourselves toward the same God who came and then began ministry in this unexpected way – we become participants of this new way of Jesus.

with you in this,

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone (or are anyone) interested please feel free to connect us!

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My first retreat, Tending To What Is, will be on January 14th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here. ALSO! Mark your calendar for my Lent mini-retreat on February 12th.

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donoloninvited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Guidebook for Writers, Journalers, and Creative Souls. You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

• In an attempt to make space for clergy & ministry leaders, I will be offering spiritual direction group this winter/spring. You can find more information and register here.

Happy New Year friends -

I’m sure it’s no secret to you that naming the good, is a practice I hold deeply to - whether in a reflection here, a gratitude journal, or over dinner with my family, it’s an important part of my life. Over the last several years, I’ve been inspired by Kendra Adachi and Emily P. Freeman’s1 lists of what worked, and I’ve created my own for 2025.2 It’s another way of acknowleding the good parts of your life. As I’ve written before:

It’s not turning away from the groaning of creation.
It’s naming the good and finding rest in what is.

One of the practices we’ll engage in next week at my Tending To What Is lunchtime mini-retreat, is naming what is working in our lives. I’d love for you to join me as we usher in the new year with less new year, new you energy and more tending. Instead of revamping our lives, we’ll name what is already good.

So in no particular order, here is a list of ten things that worked in 2025:

10 things that worked in 2025

1. Journaling and poems to start my day. It can feel hard in the early morning hours to read something too heavy, or expect too long of a stretch of time, so this year I’ve been enjoying a simple practice of a cup of coffee my journal and a few poems most mornings. I’ve mentioned the compilations from James Crews often, but they’ve been a great companion to the start of my day.

2. Thrifting. I’ve been in and out of thrift stores for years, but I’ve been trying to checking there first before ordering or heading to target. My church book club is hosting a swap later this month and I’m looking forward to that as well. I got a great coat at last year’s swap!

3. Audio books. Lol. But hear me out! I’ve been listening to audio books for a long time, but this year I tackled several novels and non-fiction books that had been on my list for a while and found that listening while I do the dishes or on my commute helped me make it through some books that I wanted to read, but struggled to stay awake when reading before bed.

4. Time-Blocking. Over the Summer I read Cal Newport’s Slow Productivity, and loved it! He brings together ideas that have been swirling around me for years. In it he briefly discussing time-blocking and I’ve put it into practice in earnest the last several months, and have not looked back! The short definition is blocking periods of time to focus on one specific task instead of jumping around, or interupting yourself to do other things. (But there is more! The book or his podcast lays it out well.)

5. Burrito Bowls. I eat this several times per week, it travels well, and tends to have plenty of leftovers! It’s not always the same but generally: salad greens, topped with beans & rice, avocado, cheese, tomatoes, lime, greek yogurt etc. and finally I add some avocado dressing! (I’ll also add random leftovers like: chicken, pulled pork, veggies etc. from the night before when I have them)

6. The Lazy Genius. I have talked a lot about Kendra Adachi’s work over at The Lazy Genius pretty often, but this year as I managed more moving parts in my life, I’ve appreciated her balance approach to life management. I’ve finally settled into listening to her podcast (almost!) every week and even bought her playbooks (something to use with your planner / calendar etc.) and have loved them!

7. Family Meals. I used this one last year, but I want to keep it again for this year. As my kids get older and busier, I find that an hour together at dinner is a much needed connection point. Like last year, we still have plenty of complaining and it’s not perfect — but some days everyone lingers just a bit and on those nights there is no where else I’d rather be.

8. Friendship. It can feel difficult to cultivate friendships when you have a full life, but over the last several years I’ve found close friendships to be one of the most important pieces of the pie. Meeting for walks or dinner, going to see live music or author events, hosting at our house, and all the texts in between. It’s worth the time and effort! Georgia Okeefe once said: Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven't time, and to see takes time - like to have a friend takes time. She’s right! But it’s time well spent.

9. Refusing to speak poorly of the generations behind me. It seems that as generations age they tend to lean toward a “the kids these days” mentality. As I’ve found myself entering middle-age, I’ve been determined not to speak ill of younger people, but to learn from their passion, experience, and differences. I cannot express enough the gifts diverse voices have brought to my life — including younger friends, congregants, and colleagues.

10. Mini-retreats. I’ve been hosting these for several years, but this past year I’ve felt like my online mini-retreats are really finding their groove. I’m excited to offer 6 or 73 retreats throughout the year and I hope you’ll join me! I’d love to hear any ideas / hopes / dreams you have for what topics might be included. I already have January and February planned, you can find out more information below.

With you as you explore what worked in 2025 -

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone (or are anyone) interested please feel free to connect us!

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My first retreat, Tending To What Is, will be on January 14th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here. ALSO! Mark your calendar for my Lent mini-retreat on February 12th.

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donolon invited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Guidebook for Writers, Journalers, and Creative Souls. You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

• In an attempt to make space for clergy & ministry leaders, I will be offering spiritual direction group this winter/spring. You can find more information and register here.

Happy Week Between,

I like to send book updates quarterly, but it doesn’t always happen. While I have some books from the late fall that I want to share with you, I think they’ll have to wait. Instead, I want to send out my top books of this past year before I (or you) lose interest in these lists.

I read quite a bit this year (on top of school reading!), but overall my fiction choices felt a little lacking. I read some great non-fiction, and memoir continues to draw me in — I read (and listened) to some great ones this year!

In no particular order, here are my top books of 2025:

2025 Favorites

1. Good Soil, Jeff Chu

   I loved everything about this one! Jeff Chu is a treasure and incredible writer. I loved journeying with him to places that we have in common and learning from him in our differences.

2. Parable of the Sower, Octavia Butler (audio)

   This was my hardest read in the past year. I was ready for it to be over, but I feel changed by Butler’s work. I’m still unpacking what I’ve taken away from the book, and imagine it will weave its way into my writing in the coming year.

3. Emergent Strategy, Adrienne Maree Brown

   This is the only book I’ve read from Brown but I love the ideas she has about belonging and community. Her writing is fresh and important for our times! What should I read next??

4. Church for Everyone, by Dan Kreiss and Efrem Smith

   I read this for a self-directed class over the summer and have continued to return to it. I’m finding it to be crucial reading for anyone leading a church community.

5. Real Friends (series), Shannon Hale

   I’ve already mentioned this series from Shannon Hale a few times, but my daughter and I loved meeting her and hearing the talk she gave. I loved finding myself in the pages of these graphic novels for kids that are written as memoirs of Hale’s childhood.

6. Elizabeth Elliot, A Life, Lucy S. R. Austen

   It feels complicated to keep my review to a few lines, but I’ll say that Austen does an amazing job at taking an honest look at Elliot and her life. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this one!

7. In My Grandmother’s House, Yolanda Pierce

   I had the privelege to hear Dr. Yoland Pierce speak in September, and I loved this tender and generous book. I’m hoping to read another book of hers, The Wounds are the Witness, in the coming year. One reviewer said that this book is where Teilhard de Chardin meets Beyoncé… so its probably going to be my favorite book ever!

8. Liturgies for Resistance, Kat Armas

   Probably my favorite non-fiction book this year. I love the way Armas weaves her own experiences into theology, making concepts more accessible. Armas is a gift to theological understanding and writing. On the edge of my seat waiting for more from Armas.

9. Me, Elton John (audio)

   This book was so fun! It was also heartbreaking and fascinating and funny. I listened to the audio, and really wish it had been read in full by Elton John, but either way it was such a joy to listen to!

10. Memorial Drive, Natasha Tretheway (audio)

    This heartbreaking memoir from poet, Natasha Tretheway, was beautifully written but a hard listen. I wish more poets would write memoir!

11. Tell Me Everything, Elizabeth Strout

    I love pretty much everything that Elizabeth Strout has written, while this wasn’t my favorite I loved the intersection of two of my favorite fictional characters —Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton!

I’m looking forward to more reading in the new year. I midway through David Gate’s book of poetry: A Rebellion of Care, and hope to read everything I can get my hands on from Claire Keegan, a new to me author. I’m also hoping to tackle a few classics that are currently on hold from the library — it’s time to re-read 1984.

What about you? What did you love in 2025? What do you hope to read in 2026?

Leave a comment

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donolon invited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Guidebook for Writers, Journalers, and Creative Souls. You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone (or are anyone) interested please feel free to connect us!

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My first retreat, Tending To What Is, will be on January 14th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here.

  

• In an attempt to make space for clergy & ministry leaders, I will be offering spiritual direction group this winter/spring. You can find more information and register here.

  

In a sermon this Advent, I talked about the importance of telling a truthful nativity.1 I claimed that we must remember to name the realities of the world Jesus was born into. Which included, political violence, oppression at the hands of empire, and a world of suffering.

I reminded my congregants that we cannot bypass the suffering of the world Jesus was born into, or the suffering in our world now. As Kelley Nikondeha writes: Advent is a time set aside to learn and acknowledge that God is always coming to our troubled times. I worried that we too often let Christmas cancel Advent.

I’m realizing though, in the same way that we cannot let Christmas, the celebration and declaration of peace on earth, cancel out Advent, which is the longing and waiting for that same peace — we also cannot let Advent cancel out Christmas. They are inseparable, we are learning to hold both a longing for peace, and the way of peace together.

When I was a girl, the church I grew up in would have these big Christmas musicals every few years and often a few kids got to participate. One year, when I was 8 or 9, my sister and some of her friends were invited to be part of the procession of the magi. I was beyond jealous. They had these beautiful purple costumes and carried a large tent over one of the magi. I did not recognize at the time that I had a much bigger role — I had seen Aladdin, I needed this part!

For my role, I had the only solo given to a child, and in my Christmas dress I stood alone in the nativty and sang the opening to the song Because It’s Christmas, which was the title of the musical.2 Here are some of the lyrics:

Tonight the Stars shine for the children
they light the way for dreams to fly,
tonight our love comes wrapped in ribbons3,
the world is right and hopes are high.

From a dark and frosted window,
a child appears,
to search the sky,
because it’s Christmas,
because it’s Christmas!

I’m begining to understand that if we only look at the suffering in the story — we miss the wonder of it. The entire nativity story ignites our imagination. It’s a story that people have returned to for thousands of years for a reason. A story that doesn’t always make sense, because it turns social structures upside down — and we have been reckoning with this upside down way of living ever since.

Last night, at our Christmas Eve Eve service,4 I said a few words about Matthew 2:1-12, the story of the magi. In Matthew, we read about Mary, Joseph, and Jesus fleeing to Egypt after the magi arrive, but more likely they had already fled. The stories are a little out of order, but tradition tells us that the magi found Jesus and his family in Egypt taking shelter from a violent ruler, Herod.

They find Jesus — still poor and oppressed, but now he’s a stranger and an outsider. He’s displaced and persecuted. He’s a refugee. Liberation Theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, talks about theology from the underside of history, and this story fits in there.

This story acknowledges that it is God’s Dream to bring justice and equality to the poor and marginalized people of the world. The magi represent honor and dignity being brought to “the least of these.”

The story of the magi is a story of curiosity and wonder and there is a lot we don’t know! We don’t know that there were three, as it is often assumed. And different translations of the bible have called them by many different professions — scholars, astrologers, magi — they are often referred to as kings, which they were not, at least not according to Matthew. We don’t know who they were, or where they were from. There are more questions too — How long did the journey take? How did the star work? How old was Jesus when they arrived?

Still there is something about this story — there is a reason that it keeps being told over and over again. Something about it inspires us, it brings out our curiosity and our imagination! We find ourselves in awe of this kind of upside down devotion.

Like the song I sang that night all those years ago — Christmas shines a light in the darkness. It makes way for dreams. It creates space for searching the sky. The idea of these great, powerful magi, first following a star — and then bowing to a small baby on the margins of society or the underside of history — this continues to make us ask if another way is possible.

And the story gets better, the magi travel for days, or maybe months, or likely years — and on their travels they meet Herod. When they told him of the star, and their travels, he didn’t like it at all. He told the magi once they found the child, to come and let him know where he was, so that he might also worship him. (Which he of course had no intention of doing!)

Scripture says that when the magi found that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy and knelt down to worship Jesus, offering their gifts. After visiting what we might call peace on earth — the astrologers began their return journey, but they were changed. The text says — that they did not return to Herod, but left for their own country by another road. Some versions say they went home by another way.

An encounter with the Christ child, with peace on earth — with the embodiment of God With Us, of love, of hope — they were changed by this. This is the mystery of the incarnation. How a single encounter with love can change us. How more encounters, can continue to change us. It’s not a one time thing, but a transformation over a lifetime, over generations. This is why we return to the passages in Matthew and Luke year after year.

There are so many unknowns in these stories of Christmas, so many things that are hard to wrap our brains around. But I don’t think we have to connect all the dots to follow the star or to bow in reverence to love. We don’t have to understand everything completely to offer our gifts in solidarity to those in need. To be changed. To return home another way.

We don’t have to have all the answers to hold the mystery of the incarnation, the mystery God with us, the mystery of peace on earth — alongside our longing and struggle for peace. We can let it change us today, and go home differently. We can let it change us tomorrow too, and the day after that, and in the years to come.

alongside you in the wonder of Christmas Eve,

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Offerings

• In the coming year, I’ll be offering several more lunchtime mini-retreats. My first retreat, Tending To What Is, will be on January 14th at noon CT. You can find more information and register here.

• In an attempt to make space for clergy & ministry leaders, I will be offering spiritual direction group this winter/spring. You can find more information and register here.

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donolon invited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Solo Retreat Guide for Writers, Journalers, and Anyone who Wants to Flourish Anyway! You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone interested please feel free to connect us!

It’s not news to you that this time of year pulls us in many directions. We receive messages to buy more, do more, eat more, and be more than what’s possible in these few weeks leading up to Christmas.1

We rush to our kids performances, look frantically for the perfect gift, and plan huge holiday meals. We pack in shopping trips, holiday outings, parties, and family get togethers. All the while, the days are getting longer and colder and our bodies and minds and souls seem to be begging for rest. Katherine May has famously written about this in her book, Wintering2. She writes: Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer.

Earlier in the month, as we decorated our tree, my husband and I told stories of our childhoods and early marriage through the lens of the decorations. We showed the kids which ones once lived on our grandmother’s trees and which were bought or made by our parents. We laughed (and cried a little) at the crafts the kids have made and called ornaments over the years. As we reminisced, my 6 year old concluded that “ornaments are like memories.” And he’s right. Most ornaments we hung held some sort of memory. Happy memories, yes, but happy memories of babies that have grown into teenagers, and loved ones who have passed away.

I think in some ways, the hustle and bustle this time of year is an escape from the long, dark nights. It becomes the way we avoid the memories that pop up on evenings at home that seem to never end, or as Bing Crosby croons White Christmas. Sometimes it’s grief or sadness when the holidays look less like what we had hoped or imagined — and more like loneliness, or disappointment, or unmet expectations.

And so it shouldn’t be a surprise that this time of year has become, totally out of control. It’s a time of year that calls for reflection, and instead of pausing we pretend it’s not happening. We move to excess in every part of our lives — more eating and drinking, more online shopping, busier schedules. We avoid the tension of joy and sorrow. Of grief and memory. Of endings and new beginnings.

We sing O Holy Night, feeling the nostalgia, but forgetting the tension of the lyrics — a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. Many of our favorite secular carols hold this tension as well, it’s not just the religious ones. We sing the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful3… and I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams. Even Frosty is fighting the winter, reminding the kids: let’s run, and we’ll have some fun now before I melt away.

Last week, I led a small group of congregants through my Preparing to Wait mini-retreat. We took an hour or so to pause and be together in the tension of Advent. We let ourselves name the suffering of our world, while holding the wonder of the incarnation. We sat in silence when our minds and bodies wanted to make lists and check them twice. We paused to reflect even though it was a little uncomfortable.

That night, and often during this time, I return to Jan Richardson’s musings on Advent, she writes: the season of Advent means there is something on the horizon … it’s not possible to keep it from coming … what is possible is to not see it, to miss it…

And so I’m asking myself — What keeps me from pausing? What might make me miss what is on the horizon? Sometimes it’s systems I can’t fully control, but sometimes it’s my own resistance to sitting in the tension of a weary world that also manages to rejoice. It’s singing Joy to the World, after dropping off donations at the food bank, it’s feeling overwhelmed by the problems of our government while wrapping gifts I can’t wait for my kids to open, it’s sitting with grief of loss as I light the candle of Hope.

Isn’t that what the incarnation promises? Not to take away the pain, but to be here in the midst of it. God joined us in this world, in a body that feels energized and tired, a heart that sings for joy and grieves over death, and a soul that longs for something more while finding moments of peace. Perhaps this is what we might miss this Advent, the invitation that arrived when a little baby boy was born all those years ago — and they shall name him “Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.”

with you in the weariness and the joy,

Holly

P.S. It’s not too late to join us as we sit in the tension of Advent tomorrow, Wednesday, December 10th from 12 - 1:30pm CT. The retreat is a chance to pause and consider what it means to wait and wonder in the coming weeks. You can find more information and sign up here.

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Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donolon invited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Solo Retreat Guide for Writers, Journalers, and Anyone who Wants to Flourish Anyway! You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

• I’m opening up for a few more spiritual direction clients in the coming year, so if you know anyone interested please feel free to connect us!

• Also in the coming year, I hope to offer several more mini-retreats. If you have a topic or something you’d like to see offered, please reach out! You can reply directly to this email or leave a comment.

• And finally, I also plan to host a few 2026 clergy spiritual direction groups. If you’re interested, be sure sign-up for my monthly Spiritual Direction Newsletter here, so you don’t miss any details!

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It’s December 1st!

I wasn’t sure if this email was going to make it into your hands (inbox) but here it is. I know you’ve already gotten so many gift giving guides, but I love reading them so maybe you will too! I’ve only listed books, so even if you’ve already finished shopping (I’ve heard some people have??) add them to your library list, or snag for birthdays in the coming year. (As a reminder all bookshop.org links are affiliate, so I make a small percentage off everything you order — and through the end of the day they’re offering free shipping — win, win! )

Some of these are ideas from me, and I also asked my family what books they think would make great gifts and here is what I heard:

Books for Tweens

My daughter and I got to see Shannon Hale a few months ago at our local indie bookstore, and let’s just say I was smitten! She has a recent memoir series for girls about her life growing up and they’ve been well loved books over here (I read them to myself too!). If you have a tween girl in your life, check out the graphic novels in this series: Real Friends, Best Friends, and Friends Forever.

She would also like to recommend a few series:

• Diary of a Wimpy Kid series (they are popular for a reason)! The newest book is called: Partypooper.

• The Baby-sitters Club : She enjoys both the graphic novels and original series. Our little guy and his bestie love the Baby-sitters Little Sisters series.

• I’ll also add the Percy Jackson series to this (classic I know!) but my oldest son who is no longer a teen continues to read and re-read this series!

Books for Teens

My thirteen year old son is probably the most voracious reader in the house, and also the one less likely to want to suggest books for my Substack, but here are a few ideas:

• One series he’s been reading lately is Keepers of the Lost Cities — these books are long but engaging!

• He also recommends The Inheritance Games series.

• My husband found the book The Age of Video Games: A Graphic History of Gaming from Pong to VR and Beyond, which we’ll be gifting to our son this year!

• I also want to add the new Tuck Everlasting graphic novel. It’s on my Christmas list and was one of my favorite books as a teen!

Books for Elementary Kids

• A picture book that would make a great gift is: The Truth About Dragons. My sister-in-law gifts the kids Caldecott books each Christmas and this one is stunning and my youngest loves it!

• You also can’t go wrong with Brambley Hedge or the Mercy Watson series — really anything from Kate DiCamillo.

• Each night at bedtime, my youngest and I are reading through Advent Storybook (we’ve read every year since he was a toddler)and How Winston Delivered Christmas (new to us this year).

• I love books from author/illustrator Chris Van Dusen, who also illustrates the Mercy Watson books I mentioned above. A favorite series of his is the If I Built a House series. My son will be getting the new installment If I Built a Town for Christmas. (shhh!)

Books for Adults

• The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad is a great companion for a journaler or someone interested in getting started!

• I mentioned this last week, but Ross Gay’s books would still make a great gift! Maybe The Book of (more) Delights.

• A book of poetry like this compilation from James Crews or the new book from Kate Baer, How About Now would also make a great gift.

• Or maybe you’ll find something from one of my recent book-lists — here!

• I put a few Advent/Christmas books in my monthly Spiritual Direction newsletter, you can find those recommendations here or sign up for the newsletter here.

I hope you found at least one or two books for the people on your list and I hope you’ll leave us some ideas as well — I’ll be checking the comments!

Holly

Spiritual Direction News & Updates

• I’m excited to announce that last spring, Charlotte Donolon invited me to be a contributor to her new anthology: Take More Retreats: A Solo Retreat Guide for Writers, Journalers, and Anyone who Wants to Flourish Anyway! You can pre-order and find out more about the book here. Use my pre-order code PREORDERHOLLY5, and save $5.

  Pre-order Here!

• You can now register for my upcoming Advent Retreat! I hope you’ll join me on December 10th, for my annual Preparing to Wait Advent mini-retreat from 12 - 1:30pm CT. The retreat is a chance to pause and consider what it means to wait and wonder during the season of Advent. You can find more information and register here.

  Register Here