Waving Hello

Joining in With Goodness, Grounded: A November Invitation to Write

For the month of November, I will be writing a series in response to some thoughtful prompts offered by Lori Harris on her Substack publication Locusts and Honey. If you’re someone who likes to participate in that sort of thing, you’re invited too. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared any writing online, but I found this series of prompts compelling and irresistible, so I’ve decided to write along. Like the over-responsible person that I am, I am concerned about overwhelming your inbox with a new email every day, so I will be sending an email once a week to subscribers to remind you about this series, but if you want to keep up day-by-day, you’ll have to come and visit Substack on purpose. Otherwise, look for something in your inbox next week to catch you up on the days missed. With love, Emily

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“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” Isaiah 26:3

My house is quieter than usual. Half of my family is on a hunting trip—my husband and four of our kids—out at a relative’s ranch making memories together. I’m perfectly happy to be warm and cozy at home with a candle lit beside me, and some quiet space to write. I feel a bit frustrated about my lack of progress on my formal writing projects, but the truth is, I have been in a deep healing season, and the things that have required my attention have been more consuming than I’ve cared to admit, even to myself. One thing is for sure, I’m moving in the right direction—toward a peaceful, centered, intentional life that reflects the things I value most.

It’s been five years now. Five years since I was abruptly thrust into a fight for my life. At that time, it was primarily medical. In the long season since, I’ve wrestled and labored to restore my compromised physical health, but I have also sought to heal from deeper, more complex brokenness within me. During the September weekend that marked my five-year anniversary, unexpected grief knocked me over for a few days, reminding me that while profoundly beautiful things have come to life in the past few years, there is still emotional inertia that follows after—sometimes a long time after—deeply life-changing experiences.

So I guess I am waving hello after a long season of private hardship and healing. Many things have felt obnoxiously hard in the past couple of years, probably because at one time, I felt pretty on top of my own life and, by contrast, the struggle to overcome my personal challenges has been disorienting and discouraging at times. When I was younger, things seemed simpler or easier to navigate, but it’s possible I was just too immature to recognize the complexity and depth of the highs and lows of life. One thing is for sure though: Life is more beautiful and more precious than I knew in the simple days.

I’m in a cosmic exhale, I suppose. I don’t know if that is a thing, but that’s what comes to mind when I think about my current spot in life. So much has happened that I haven’t breathed a word about—so many sanctifying and heart-shaping things—and I would like to begin the arduous process of sharing the cards I have privately held. Yes, things have been hard. And also beautiful.

I am learning how to settle in; how to rearrange my internal world to work for me instead of against me. Where I previously had a furious and tangled mess of disappointment and frustration, I am learning how to establish habits and practices that catalyze flourishing. I am learning how to knit, which is at this point, is a repetitive pattern repeated over and over to produce an orderly row. Nothing fancy. In the spiritual sense, I am learning to live a humble life intentionally ordered after the things of God. I am learning the meditative aspect of the wash, rinse, repeat cycle, if you will, only with the living and active Word. I am becoming familiar, and even friendly, with the peace that comes in taking refuge in the Almighty One. I am learning the practical steps I need to take in order to quiet my soul from the torrential stuff that has been caught inside me for as long as I can remember. I am trying to faithfully do what needs to be done in my actual house, my actual family, and my local community, in prayerful service to God.

A verse I have kept close for a lot of years is coming to fruition. “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matthew 6:33). By His Word, I am steadied and strengthened. By His grace, things are smoothing out. My threads are feeling a little less tangled, and my hands, though new to knitting, are learning how to take each row—and each day—just one at a time, with my eyes on Him. I understand more now than ever what is meant by Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”