Oof, it’s a season and a half. Not a bad season. Just a season with a few more pressures than usual.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
Seriously, I’ll be fine.
Twitter users seem to have hit a wall, and maybe this is actually it, maybe this is the end. I find it so odd that the breaking point was the restriction of endless free scrolling, and I get it, I do, I’ve done more than my share of scrolling some late nights, but … really? We didn’t all take that as a little opportunity to, I don’t know, go outside and play? Have coffee with a friend?
Nope. Everyone went to Threads. And for the life of me, I cannot see how this will be better than every other social media platform that eventually becomes a dumpster fire. It’s the same people. We’re the same people.
Anyway. I’m pretty sure I’m not learning another social media platform. More power to the rest of you. If I’m the last one out, I’ll turn off the lights and lock the door.
I dove into some new books recently, and oh, that’s good for my soul.
I listened to Beholding,1 and it was so beautiful. My one-word review of this book is, “Yes.”
I particularly loved the chapters on Eucharist and Praying With Our Bodies.
It’s on Scribd, by the way, and WOW, why did I only hear about this app a few months ago?
I still use The Act of Prayer several times a week as part of my own prayer and Scripture reading. I’m so grateful for this structure on days when I don’t have the words.
I found Desert Fathers & Mothers a few days ago, researching for a paper, and then I changed the topic of the paper, so I didn’t need it, but I like it, so I’m gonna read it anyway.
And last night I started listening to Master Slave Husband Wife. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m only a couple of chapters in.
Wooowwwww.
Reading has been shaping me since I sat with Dad in the big chair and sounded out the word “Come”. That’s my earliest reading memory. It was a familiar book, and likely the story was a child calling their dog. That word stumped me every time.
I’d sound it out - “Sound it out,” Dad said - and I’d hesitantly say, “Comb?” “Try again.” “Comb-ey?” “Not quite.”
And then I’d remember, triumphantly exclaiming, “COME!”
And words have been shaping me ever since. They’re some of my very best friends.
Today, I recalled Crucial Conversations, and asked myself again the question I learned from it - “What do I really want out of this conversation? If that were true, how would I behave right now?”
I also recalled, from A Minute to Think, “What do I truly need to know?” (Not as much as my inbox thinks I need to know, I’ll tell you that.)
Yesterday, in deep conversation with good friends, I referenced The Great Divorce as well as Perelandra. Books that helped me to be less certain, in the very best of ways.
And All My Knotted-Up Life by Beth Moore? Listen to me. If you are a male pastor or Christian leader, I must insist that you drop everything you’re doing, right now, and move that book to the top of the list. My suggestion - listen to the audio version - it’s her own voice.
And then talk to me when you finish it, and I’ll tell you about me, walking through a mall in downtown Montreal, wiping away tears that were unexpectedly pouring down my face. Snot too. It wasn’t pretty.
Goodness, Beth, you did me right in.
Anyway. Deep breath. This season will pass. Twitter may even pass. But books? I think they’re going to be here for a long, long time.
Thank you God, for the voices, the words, the stories, the joys, the questions, the sadnesses, the profound thoughts that come to me from others through books. Thank you that I live in a time and place where they are so readily accessible. Than you for shaping me through the voices of others. Amen.
Where possible, I’m trying to link the books to their own home page, or a publisher, not just send you straight to Amazon. But they’re probably all on Amazon. Or Scribd.