Author: Leslie Verner

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The Power of Self-Reflection: 13 Questions to Ask Yourself (during and after a Pandemic)

Remember that elevator scene from You’ve Got Mail? The one where Joe Fox, acted by Tom Hanks, and his girlfriend get stuck in an elevator with two other people and they each tell what they’ll do “if I ever get out of here.” I keep thinking about that scene.

“I’m gonna start speaking to my mama,” one woman says.

“I’m marrying Irene. I love her. I should marry her. I don’t know what’s been stopping me,” says the elevator attendant.

When Joe’s girlfriend interrupts his heart-felt survival wish to blurt out that she’s getting her eyes lasered when she gets out, Joe realizes he’s with the wrong woman.

Joe later writes to Kathleen: “There was a man sitting in the elevator with me who knew exactly what he wanted, and I found myself wishing I were as lucky as he.”

Intense life experiences illuminate the essential and dim the superficial. But we can easily miss the chance to extract meaning from our conflict and questions if we don’t stop and reflect. One man in hospice said cancer eventually led him to transform neutral moments in life into meaningful ones.

This pandemic is our elevator moment.

Educational reformer John Dewey once wrote that we “we do not learn from experience … we learn from reflecting on experience.” Teachers, spiritual leaders, athletes, business professionals, poets, and scientists already know the value of self-reflection.

Poet and novelist May Sarton wrote in her published journals, “friends, even passionate love, are not my real life unless there is time alone in which to explore and to discover what is happening or has happened.”

When I was a teacher, I often assigned “reflections” to my middle school students after field trips, science experiments, or completing a novel as a way of shifting lived knowledge into their longer term memory. Studies show that reflecting on past experiences aid more in learning and personal growth than shoring up new knowledge.

In ancient history, the Hebrews celebrated a festival called the Feast of Booths. They wanted to remember their years of wandering in the desert when the temple of God was a temporary structure called a tabernacle. Other versions of the Bible translate the word “booth” as “shelter.”

After their experience of lostness and despair, they continued to celebrate the Feast of Shelters even after they were safe, secure and settled back in their own land. Why bother remembering something so difficult? Those of us who have lived through 2020 may also benefit in the future from instituting a similar Feast of Shelters to reflect each year on what we learned when the threat of sickness and our shuttered doors forced us to educate our children at home and erase every plan from our calendars.

Experts agree that reflection is an essential practice for those desiring a vibrant interior life. Professor Graham Gibbs created a model for personal reflection called the “Reflective Cycle.” His chart includes:

1. Description: What happened?

2. Feelings: What were you thinking and feeling?

3. Evaluation: What was good and bad about the experience?

4. Analysis: What sense can you make of the situation?

5. Conclusion: What did you learn? What would you do differently?

6. Action: If this happened again, what would you do?

As the tide of our society ebbs and flows around new guidelines and policies, fumbling for a new normal, we can benefit from self-reflection.

If we have the discipline (and courage) to carve out time to ask, write our answers, listen, and maybe even pray, these questions can guide us:

  1. What’s been good? (i.e. gains, good surprises, successes)
  2. What been hard? (i.e. losses, fears, worries, deaths, disappointments, inconveniences, discomforts, failures)
  3. What has changed? (i.e. job, school, new skills, family dynamics, friendships, church, community, etc.)
  4. How has my relationship with technology, social media, and the digital life changed? What will I abandon? What will I retain?
  5. How have I seen or experienced God, religion, or the spiritual life through this experience?
  6. What have I learned about my family, children, spouse, neighbors, roommates, or community?
  7. What have I learned about myself? What have I needed most during this time?
  8. Which books, movies, or songs have comforted me at this time?
  9. If this happens again, what will I do differently?
  10. How have I experienced healing?
  11. How have I experienced pain?
  12. What changes do I want to carry over with me to the other side?
  13. What changes do I need to make so that can happen?

Before the world opens again completely (assuming that day comes), we can grasp this unique opportunity to pause and do some soul searching:

What have we learned, how have we grown, and what will we carry with us into the future?

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The Writer’s Social Media Dilemma

Like most people, I have a stormy relationship with social media. Because of social media, I’ve connected with like-minded strangers I never would have met before. I’ve had ways to publish my writing that I wouldn’t have had during pre-internet days when the publishing gates were staunchly guarded. And I’ve bonded and bled online with people when real-life humans were hard to find.

But I know social media scratches and pecks at my soul. Lately, I’ve been suffering from a kind of social media Tourettes Syndrome where I find myself blurting out thoughts about people in my head that I’d never say aloud. What if I typed my first thoughts? Have you ever been in a completely quiet room and had the urge to scream as loud as you can? Or stood on a balcony and had the fear that you might suddenly lose your mind and leap the railing to soar through the air? Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll type the first thing that comes to mind when I’m on social media. And the first thing that comes to mind isn’t usually loving, neighborly, or kind. This is a signal that something isn’t well with my soul. It doesn’t elicit greater kindness, compassion, or love, but usually triggers the opposite.

My kids are still not old enough to have phones (which, of course, is debatable), but I’m dreading the future for them—and for me as their parent. Modern technology vies for our time and attention in seductive and subtle ways. I personally struggle with this addiction as a grown woman and have tried fasting or detoxing from social media during different times. Each time has been illuminating. Each time, I wished I didn’t have to check social media so often.

I mainly use social media for my work (at least that’s what I tell myself). I’m a freelance writer. As a writer and author, I’m told I must “build my platform.” Most publishers will not take a chance on a writer without a certain number of followers on the various social media platforms. Every job has a list of undesirable tasks a person must do if they want to continue in the job. The writer Elizabeth Gilbert calls these types of tasks eating the “s*** sandwich.” My actor husband said he and his actor friends often talked about putting on the waders to wade through the s***. But does the requirement to rack up followers and develop a brand and persona on social media strip down the soul of the artist beyond recognition? What’s the opportunity cost of bleeding out on social media?

Before I wrote publicly, I was a social media ghost. I rarely posted online or engaged at all. In fact, when I ran into friends I hadn’t seen for a long time and mentioned something they had posted on social media, they looked shocked that I knew that tidbit about them because I had never “liked” or commented on any of their posts. From then on, I began at least “liking” posts to counter my previous status as a social media voyeur. But when I started a blog five years ago, I had to not just creep out from under the social media rock, but scramble up—naked—and repeatedly ask people to listen to me. This is what “building a platform” felt like initially—mostly humiliating and very out of character for a person who values privacy and despises showiness.

My husband and I folded three small mountains of laundry last night as we started to watch the Netflix documentary The Social Dilemma the internet is buzzing about these days. We’ve both done some homework already on this issue, so we found it a bit cheesy and overwrought (the dramatizations especially). I found Cal Newport’s book, Digital Minimalism, to be much more insightful and highly recommend reading or listening to it. But I suppose that for those who are new to this, watching the documentary might be a good entry point for more discussion.

Let’s say we don’t want to delete every social media account or stop using the internet–how can we step onto our small or large platforms with integrity and intact souls?

We start by acknowledging we are weak. We also accept that experts developed these tools to manipulate our (natural and good) human need for connection, affirmation, and pleasure. Because of this, it helps to intentionally set strict personal boundaries for ourselves and our children.

Will we take our phones with us: to the bathroom, to bed, to the dinner table, to the meeting, on our dates, to the play date, to school, to our friend’s house, to our cars while driving, or while we exercise? Why or why not? For what purpose?

Ideally, how much time would we like to be spending on each social media platform or website? What’s the inherent value of each one? (Cal Newport goes more into this as a measure of how we decide where we spend our time.)

Are there any times of day when we’re not accessible to others? When are those times? What might be the benefit of this?

I don’t have all this figured out. This a conflict I deal with on a daily basis, whether realized or not. But for those of us who identify as “creatives,” it’s worth reflecting and wrestling with these questions, mainly because of the way our souls and creativity may wither under the weight.

Although the poet and writer May Sarton lived before the age of social media, she had the same complicated questions about success and achievement as a writer. In Journal of a Solitude, she wrote,

“I have become convinced since that horrible review … that I have been overconcerned with the materialistic aspects of bringing out this novel, the dangerous hope that it become a bestseller, or that for once; I might get a leg up from the critics, the establishment, and not have once more to see the work itself stand alone and make its way, heart by heart, as it is discovered by a few people with all the excitement of a person who finds a wildflower in the woods that he has discovered on his own. From my isolation to the isolation of someone somewhere who will find my work there is a true communion. It is free of ‘ambition’ .. This is what I can hope for and I hope for nothing more or less.” (p. 67-68)

As writers, we want our stories to find readers. We write from our own isolation to the isolation of someone else in hope that we won’t feel so alone. Social media can provide communion and connection, so we can’t say it’s entirely evil. But we’re naïve to believe social media has our best interests in mind. The question is: how can we stop being manipulated and instead use social media to invite wonder and connection, love and compassion? This may be impossible, but I’m hoping that with the proper guards in place, social media can connect more readers–even if it’s just one–to writing that illuminates their own souls.

The Writer's Social Media Dilemma: Does the requirement to rack up followers and develop a brand and persona on social media strip down the soul of the artist beyond recognition? What’s the opportunity cost of bleeding out on social media? #thesocialdilemma #socialmedia #writersandsocialmedia

*Contains Amazon affiliate links

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Homeschooling Resources that Invite Freedom & Peace (for those of us who never-EVER-planned to homeschool)

Although I never wanted to homeschool, I used to follow homeschooling moms on Instagram. I mostly ogled over the unschooling types who raise their babies in the deep of the woods or on the salt of the sea. Their children sketched downy woodpeckers or lupine wildflowers under the shade of a cottonwood or banyan tree. “Why don’t you just unfollow them?” my husband finally said one night before bed as I showed him yet another post displaying all I WASN’T doing as a mom. It was a beautiful life, it just couldn’t represent my kids or my life. I unfollowed those accounts and felt lighter and more free to be who we are: a family who lives an ordinary life in a mid-sized city with chain-link fence around our modest backyard.

Back in May, my friend in Denver told me she had decided to homeschool. The thought had never occurred to me. I’m a former public school teacher and I adore our neighborhood public school. But since my number one con on my pro/con list was “I don’t want to,” I decided I should push past wants and consider homeschooling as an option. The list of pros seemed lengthy–flexibility, consistency in a wonky Covid world, the ability to tailor lessons to my kids, etc, but paper and lists wouldn’t change my personality and it certainly wouldn’t change the personality of my strong-willed children. I mean, I can’t even get them to put their shoes on, why would I expect them to learn anything from me?

But Time has a way of kneading our desires; and giving that dough time to rest helped me adapt and shift my expectations of life–not as it should be, but life as it is. And life right now is complicated. Long story short: we decided to homeschool.

As a researcher and resource-collector, I tried to listen to many different podcasts about homeschooling. I confess many led to groans and eye-rolls on my part. Some homeschoolers can come across as having a superiority complex with a fear of public schools. But I found some simple resources that led to peace and freedom. All the resources I’m sharing here represent those types of resources.

Here’s my philosophy of education in a nutshell: Children are naturally curious. They want to learn. If we chase their curiosity (and ours), find a good math curriculum, read LOTS of good books, and talk about those books, we will educate our children well. This feels very do-able to me.

My children are in pre-k, kindergarten, and second grade, although many of these resources will help children of other grades. I’ve taught 4th-8th grade and have my teaching certificate in K-9, so I do have experience teaching–just not these ages and not my own children. Here’s what I’ve discovered so far:

Some Freeing Podcasts for the Reluctant Homeschooler:

Brave Writer Podcast: 55 Things I Did Not Do as a Homeschooler, 61 Things I Did RIGHT in My Homeschool, Morning Routines that Support Your Homeschool and Family, One Thing Principle

Homeschool Sisters Podcast: You Don’t Have to Do It All: Getting Started with Homeschooling

Read Aloud Revival: 10 Homeschooling Mistakes I’ve Made (so you can avoid them)

A Few Books to Inspire Peace:

Free to Learn: Why Unleashing the Instinct to Play Will Make Our Children Happier, More Self-Reliant, and Better Students for Life by Peter Gray

Read Aloud Handbook by Jim Trelease

Teaching from Rest: A Homeschoolers Guide to Unshakable Peace by Sarah Mackenzie

Basic Curriculum I’m Cobbling Together (apparently this is called “hack-schooling”):

The Routine: I plan to follow a routine, not a schedule, as Julie Bogart talks about, although I did buy this teacher planner for myself and really love planning. Adam will take the kids the first hour for science and social studies while I work on my own writing projects in the morning. After we transition from dad to mom, I’ll start them out with snack and “table time” where we’ll do a read aloud and work on reading, writing and math. After that we’ll do lunch, more read aloud, quiet reading time, then art, other projects, watch movies, go to the library, play games, or have time for free play. I’m hoping we can squeeze in some camping trips and study about the places we visit. I want to follow curiosity like Alice followed the white rabbit (guess what we’re reading aloud right now…?).

Math:

Math Mammoth ($38 total for two workbooks—an extra $9 of more online resources) for my 2nd grader–came highly recommended in a homeschooling Facebook group I joined
Math Games: Sum Swamp, Monopoly, others; mostly do games and play with K and pre-schooler
Supplement with Khan Academy (free online)

Language Arts:

For my non-readers:
Phonics Pathways
Erasable books to practice writing numbers and letters
Unicorn Handwriting book
Leap Frog: Letter Factory DVD
Phonics flashcards I found at a thrift store

Read-Alouds: I plan to read aloud a variety of poetry, fiction, and non-fiction and discuss, being sure to touch on plot, characters, parts of speech, devices like alliteration, metaphor, simile, etc. We already do this right after lunch and before bed, but instead of always having them select the books, I’ll read aloud a selection of my own.

Journals: We’ll use these journals (pictured above) to interact with and reflect on the things we’re learning and reading. I’ll just have my four-year-old draw a picture, and I’ll have my kindergartner dictate to me until she can write for herself. I’ve heard great things about The Writing Revolution–it’s currently in my cart.

Copy Work: I may also try having them do “copy work,” in these journals and have them select some of their own quotes, dialogue, or passages to copy. This blog post from The Unlikely Homeschool explains copy work well.

Quiet Reading Time (aka “D.E.A.R.” or “S.S.R.”): We’ll continue our quiet reading time after lunch each day, which we’ve been doing for the past few months. The kids grab books and read (or look at pictures if they can’t read yet) for thirty minutes. They earn a sticker and after five stickers they get to pick something from the treasure box (snacks and trinkets I bought at the dollar store). Dollar Tree sells simple sticker charts with stickers, FYI.

Poetry Tea Time: I’ll try out doing a weekly Poetry Tea Time, which Julie Bogart discusses in this podcast. Basically you just light a candle, pull out some treats and put out a bunch of poetry books. The kids select poems they want to read aloud.

Science & Social Studies:

Core Knowledge curriculum is available for free download online, so I’ll use that and the core standards as a guide. We’ll also check out tons of books from the library and take relevant fieldtrips. My husband Adam will be teaching them the first hour of the day, so I’ll collaborate with him on science and social studies. He’ll start out the year with a unit on insects. I’ll also use the book And Social Justice for All, by Lisa Van Engen, to teach about social justice issues like immigration, poverty, race, disabilities, and health care. Lisa is a teacher, so this would be a great supplement to a social studies curriculum.

Art, Music, etc.:

After quiet reading time in the afternoons, we’ll work on art projects, play games, go to the library, or go for a hike. I may pick an artist, composer, or inventor to study each week.

Socializing:

Our kids have tons of friends on our street, so I’ll try and coordinate some “recess” time since they’ll all be home doing remote learning.

Online Resources I’m Exploring:

Duo Lingo—free language lessons

Hoffman Academy—free online piano lessons

Ambleside Online—free Charlotte Mason curriculum

Study Birds with The Cornell Lab: free science/nature activities for cooped-up kids

Core Knowledge Curriculum–free language arts, history, geography and science curriculum for K-8

Go Noodle–free fun movement and mindfulness videos for wiggle breaks

K12 Reader–TONS of free reading and writing resources including printable spelling lists, lined paper, worksheets, and grammar

Khan Academy–free online math courses, lessons, & practice

Curiosity Stream (starting at $2.99 a month)–stream documentaries

Field Trip Zoom ($49.95 annual membership)

Signing Time Videos ($)

Epic Online Library ($)—personalized reading for kids 12 and under.

Starfall ($35 per year)–reading for pre-K-3

Project Gutenberg–library of over 60,000 free e-books

Brave Writer–some free resources and some for purchase

Explode the Code ($65 for 8 books and online access)–many people recommended this curriculum for kids who are learning to read

What other resources (especially free ones) would you recommend that have helped you to find peace and freedom in homeschooling?

I will be updating this list periodically.

Podcasts, books, and curriculum ideas for the reluctant homeschooler.

*This post includes Amazon affiliate links, but no other affiliates.

Image by No-longer-here from Pixabay

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30+ African American Churches to “Visit” Virtually

I asked on social media for recommendations for some outstanding preachers, pastors, and priests who also happen to be African American. If you are white, might I humbly suggest skipping your regular church service to join one of these churches on Sunday? Or at the very least, listen to one of the sermons an evening this week?

Sometimes God cracks open kairos moments in history. Kairos in Greek means “an opportune moment.” For the first time in history, we can visit one another’s churches all around the world to listen, lament, and learn–virtually. This is kairos, an opportune time.

These links will take you to the latest YouTube channels, Facebook Lives, or pre-recorded sermons for various African American-led churches around the United States. Many services include worship through music, dance, and the spoken word. Some of these churches have podcasts, so perhaps subscribe so you can supplement your own church sermon each week. If you’re easing up on social distancing, you could gather a small group of friends to watch in a backyard so you can discuss afterward.

White Christians have an opportunity to grow in empathy through virtual proximity. Below this list are preachers who may not pastor a church, but guest preach or speak. Both lists are far from exhaustive, so feel free to share more in the comments.

Check out these men and women of God, their churches, and their messages of hope:

Ricky Jenkins, Southwest Church (Indian Wells, CA), Podcast

Dr. Derwin Gray, Transformation Church (Indian Land, SC)

Dr. Eric Mason, Epiphany Fellowship Church (Philadelphia, PA)

Thabiti Anyabwile, Anacostia River Church (Washington, DC)

Sr. Pastor Rev. Dr. Traci Blackmon, Christ the King UCC (Florissant, MO)

Efrem Smith Midtown Campus, Bayside Church (Sacramento, CA)

Edrin Williams, The Sanctuary Covenant Church (Minneapolis, MN), Podcast

Dr. Dharius Daniels, Change Church (Ewing, NJ)

Dr. Charlie Dates Progressive Baptist Church (Chicago, IL)

Michael Todd, Transformation Church (Tulsa, OK)

Derwin Anderson & Dhati Lewis, Blueprint Church (Atlanta, GA)

Leslie D. Callahan, St. Paul’s Baptist Church (Philadelphia, PA)

Robert L. Scott, Jr., Quench Life Christian Fellowship (Dublin, CA), Podcast

H.B. Charles, Shiloh Church (Jacksonville, FL)

Dr. Dwayne Bond, Wellspring Church (Charlotte, NC)

Dr. Frederick Douglass Haynes, III, Friendship West (Dallas, TX)

Albert Tate, Fellowship Church (Monrovia, CA), Podcast

Rev. Jacqui Lewis, Middle Church (New York, NY)

Chris Brooks, Woodside Bible Church (multiple locations in Michigan)

Robert Galinas, Colorado Community Church (Denver, CO)

Paul Sheppard, Destiny Christian Fellowship (Fremont, CA)

John K. Jenkins, Sr., First Baptist Church of Glenarden (Upper Marlboro, MD)

Richard Allen Farmer, Crossroads Presbyterian Church (Stone Mountain, GA)

Rich Villodas, New Life Church (New York, NY)*

Dr. Tony Evans, Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship (Dallas, TX)

William H. Lamar, IV, Metropolitan AME Church (Washington, DC), Facebook

Hart Ramsey, Northview Christian Church (Dothan, AL)

Elbert McGowan, Jr., Redeemer Church (Jackson, MS)

Dr. Renita J. Weems, Ray of Hope Community Church (Nashville, TN), Audio

Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III, Trinity Church (Chicago, IL)*

Leonce B. Crump, Jr. Renovation Church (Atlanta, GA)

Other Speakers/Preachers:

Dr. Shively Smith

Dennis R. Edwards

Dr. Esau McCaulley

Rickey Bolden

Rev. Michael McBride

Dante Stewart

Dr. Brenda Salter McNeil

Dr. Carl Ellis Jr.

Khristi Lauren Adams

Latasha Morrison

Andre Henry

Leah Fulton

Dr. Chanequa Walker Barnes

Micky ScottBey Jones

Natasha S. Robinson

Trilla Newbell

To follow all of these preachers, visit my Twitter thread.

If you are new to the discussion on race, start here. I also recommend these three podcasts by women of color.

*Only live streaming available

I asked on social media for recommendations for some outstanding preachers, pastors, and priests who also happen to be African American. If you are white, might I humbly suggest skipping your regular church service to join one of these churches on Sunday? Or at the very least, listen to one of the sermons an evening this week?
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A Celebration of Women: Book Review of Defiant by Kelley Nikondeha

What if we read the Bible with an activated imagination? Through a narrative retelling of the Exodus story, Kelley Nikondeha emphasizes notes of the story not usually stressed as she focuses on key women in the tale. Kelley integrates liberation stories of gutsy women activists such as Mahalia Jackson, Emma Gonzalez, Ahed Tamini, Dolores Huerta, Emilie Schindler, Rosa Parks, and many other justice-seeking women.

Kelley artfully threads her own unique story as an adopted daughter born to a Mexican mother, a mother to two children by adoption, and her intercultural marriage to a man from Burundi. Kelley is a talented writer and intelligent Bible scholar, so readers who appreciate great literature will admire her expertise in storytelling. Of the many women mentioned in the book, I found Kelley’s personal story as compelling as the other women she profiles. More than anything, Defiant is first and foremost a celebration of women.

Defiant is first and foremost a celebration of women. Click To Tweet

As a former teacher myself, this book would provide excellent topics to discuss in a classroom since students could learn about various women in history who have made an impact through activism. Along with this, people of faith would benefit from reading a book using the Bible as a springboard to discuss personal responsibility as a catalyst for social change. Rather than divorcing social activism and religious faith, this book reflects the value of living out faith in practical ways in society.

While some conservative critics may consider the book to be “extra biblical,” or too heavy on creative storytelling, followers of Jesus often need a fresh look at Scripture to resuscitate familiar Bible characters to life. In the case of Defiant, I had never heard of many of the women Kelley focused on, though I’ve read Exodus many times. Growing up in patriarchal church structures, male pastors rarely preached about women. But as dissection specimens are injected with blue or pink dye, Kelley’s retelling illuminated the hidden women of Exodus, while causing the more-often celebrated men to fade into the background. As a woman used to hearing from and about men, Defiant was extremely refreshing.

Defiant is creative, smart, and liberating. Not only will you glean new knowledge of old truths as you read, you will be swept away in the story and the power that storytelling can achieve in the world.

*This post includes Amazon affiliate links.

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Social Distancing: Week 1 versus Week 3

Day 7 (March 20)

I’m sure many people will write about this time, but they will be peering out of their own windows at their own trees or neighbor’s houses. They’ll be hiding in their own corners of messy bedrooms, writing out of stolen silence while their partners are watching the children or joining a virtual meeting in the basement. Others will have a similar tale to mine, but we will each have our own particular stories to tell.

My kids often ask my husband and me to tell them stories at the dinner table. Yesterday I agreed and started, “Once upon a time the entire world shut down and everyone had to stay inside for weeks …” I told my three kids they’re living the story they’ll tell their children one day.

It’s strange how much can change in a matter of days. How life can reorient and upend your equilibrium like being toppled by a wave and spinning underwater. Which way is up? There is no “normal.” No one feels they have the right to complain because someone somewhere has lost a job, a business, a child, or her own life. But we’ve all lost something.

Nine days ago I was speaking to a group of 30 women in a church auditorium about practicing hospitality and cultivating community through face-to-face contact. That seems unfathomable now. I challenged them to step away from their digital lives to engage in their real-life relationships. Today, we are self-isolating and I haven’t been within three feet of anyone other than my family members and housemate for more than a week. Socializing in person is potentially lethal, while isolation leads to life. Which way is up?

Nine days ago I wouldn’t have imagined I’d be meeting with my neighbors on a video call to find out if we all have enough toilet paper and rice.

It only took a week to remind us we belong to one another, that we can’t exist without each other, that we actually needed each other all along and were often too busy to notice.

In a strange reversal of everything we once knew, we are learning to see neighbors, notice beauty, and support even strangers simply because they share our zip code. It turns out love molds itself to the most dire of circumstances. Love adapts and shape-shifts to meet our deepest needs.

But I feel small and powerless. Yesterday I re-read the end of Job where God reminds Job that he is dust and that it’s God who commands the sun to rise and the storms to thunder. Like standing by the edge of the ocean or on the rim of an inactive volcano, a helicopter buzzing like a tiny bee in a huge hive of the volcano’s crater, a world-wide pandemic reminds us how small and insignificant we really are. A pandemic reminds us how quickly our goals, plans, and hard work turn to ash.

Isolated at home, we are living in kairos time. The children astound me with their creativity as they make costumes from the recycling bin, re-create the beach indoors, or act out elaborate stories. We watch movies together and I rub their soft, chubby arms as they curl up in my lap. They must sense my unease, because they are listening more willingly and offering more hugs than usual. Chronos has lost its grip on us; every day is flooded with kairos moments.

Some scholars use the book of Esther as an example of kairos time. The queen—an Israelite in hiding—is perfectly situated to save her people when the king agrees to exterminate them. Only she can save them—if she dares. She was placed in the palace at that particular time in history “for such a time as this.”

Earlier this year, instead of seeking “my calling,” I started seeking God. Each day that I remembered, I prayed: “God, what are you calling me to do today?” And when I remember to pray that prayer, a word or phrase usually comes to mind: “Be with your family.” “Write.” “Rest.” God doesn’t often invite us to big things. Usually, our daily call seems miniscule and insignificant. Right now we are called to embrace small moments. Moments like snuggles and funny questions (last night my five year old daughter asked before bed, “Mommy, why is quick sand so quick?”), small gifts like toilet paper, coffee, and fresh produce, and even the inconveniences that challenge us to adapt, grow, and learn new things.

10 Days Later (March 30)

The worldwide death toll is now over 35,000.

Today begins our third week of isolation. Last night the president issued a stay-at-home order for the entire country until April 30th. My optimism is wavering.

Last week my husband complained that we’re busier now than before all this began. A novel way of interacting a couple weeks ago, many of us now have Zoom Call Fatigue. But we’re desperate for social interaction—even if it means laughing together from boxes on a screen and talking about what we’ll do first after this is all over.

Now, the only way to stay hopeful is to mentally slide a frame over Today and focus on one day at a time instead of an entire month (or months) of boxes in a calendar. I’ve been keeping a running mental tally of simple gifts: our backyard, hints of spring peeking out from the dead garden soil, the mysteries and hopes of Easter shrouded in clouds of fear and uncertainty. I scratch my kids’ backs as I pray for them at night, listing off our many gifts in our bedtime prayers: “God thank you for health, our home, our family, food, meeting our basic needs, spring coming, God’s love and presence with us at all times … “

A few nights ago I dreamed of hugging someone other than my family member. Seconds later, I panicked because I had touched someone. On a hike at a local open space this past weekend, I bent down to pick up a small, unopened package of fishing lures someone had dropped. “You should wipe that off before you touch it!” my seven year old son said. Before my kids’ show on Amazon Prime, the usual advertisement has been replaced by the Baby Shark song singing to kids about washing their hands.

How is this time altering our brain chemistry and our natural ways of moving in the world? And how permanent will the changes be? Will my children carry some latent fear of physical touch or proximity to people into their adulthood? As a mother, I am afraid for them.

We are spending as much time outdoors as possible. Nature is nurturing and distracting us. Homeschool looks more like Natureschool or Backyardschool. Social distancing is forcing my kids to play together. In their fantasies, my children enter a state of oblivion to the deadly Covid Monster. Last week they pretended four huge boulders at the top of the rust-colored hogbacks at a state park were the toes of a giant sleeping upside down (which was very concerning for my three year old, who kept asking me if the giant was real.) Watching children play is therapeutic for me. Perhaps it’s saving them, too.

Psalm 46 has been a constant comfort. The repetition of God being “with us” reminds us we’re not alone. Western society is always in need of the nudge to “be still and know that he is God.” Americans hate silence and being static. We’re afraid of what we’ll hear in the stillness when we can no longer numb with movement and noise. But it’s through stillness that we begin to know God. I need courage to push through the discomfort, awkwardness and boredom of isolation to enter into a greater awareness of God.

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Writing During a Pandemic

All my writing projects now feel inconsequential in light of this global pandemic. I opened my Scrivener document and scrolled through chapters yesterday, wondering how to write when there feels like a Before and After—a hinge in history that didn’t exist before.

I feel full of words, but they’re suspended in air like confetti and I’m waiting for them to shuffle into some kind of pattern that will help make sense of the world. But just as I’ve learned that I need to get outside and jog for my mental health, I know I also need to write. Writing is not a want; it’s a need.

This past week one of my favorite podcasters, Ann Kroeker, encouraged writers to journal and document the days. Although it seems hard to imagine, we will forget what this is all like. People may never see our wrestling and wrangling of words during this strange season, but writing will help us work out the kinks in our own souls. If you are a writer, carve out time and space in your day to write.

I once told a friend that I wasn’t a verbal or internal processor. “I need to write things down to make sense of them,” I told her. “What does that make me?”

“A writer,” she said.

I’ve always been more of a tortoise than a hare when it comes to making sense of things. I was never the first kid in class to raise my hand because I need time to process. I know this about myself. For a recent essay I published, I had mulled over those ideas for nearly a year before I wrote it. Madeleine L’Engle always encouraged her writing students to spend lots of time thinking, then to write without thinking. Often our ideas must be seeds hidden in the damp ground long before they become flowers.

Just two months ago I added an extra morning of preschool for two of my kids so that I would have nine hours a week to pursue freelance writing. But then the world closed its doors and we are living on top of one another in our house. Now that I am home full-time with my kids, aged 3, 5, and 7, that time to write evaporated.

My husband already works from home, so we rejiggered our schedule so that instead of working from 9 to 5, he now works from 10 to 6 and he gives me the morning hours to hide out in his office and fight with words on the screen. Can you enlist your spouse and get creative with your time? Perhaps there’s more fluidity to our schedules than we thought.

Making space for creative work will help sustain us through the next weeks and months of isolation. Writing will give us an outlet for expression and perhaps open portals into truth and beauty we might have missed otherwise.

Keep writing.

Keep writing, painting, creating. At times, invite your children into your creative endeavors. Perhaps they too will catch the passion. Don’t apologize for carving out time and space to create—even if no one buys your words or even reads them. Writing will keep us afloat. And it may buoy others as well.

***

How are you getting creative with your time so you can write?

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Look for the Eagles

I grew up in Florida, with jasmine clinging to our fences and alligators in our backyards. I woke up each morning expecting the sun to shine. Apart from tempestuous storms raging in the afternoons with their jet-black clouds, thunder, lightning, and violent rain, the storms would often leave just as suddenly as they came.

Life up to age 18 didn’t prepare me for the near constant sheet of grey that settles over the Midwest for weeks and months at a time. Living in Chicago, I suffered from yearly Seasonal Affective Disorder, which eventually drove us west in search of sunshine even in the winter months.

Although we now live in Colorado, which supposedly has 300 days of sunshine a year, I still hate winter. I hate wearing multiple layers of clothing (and having to put those layers on three children). I despise not being able to sit outside for any length of time. And I abhor the way it confines us to our homes for months on end.

When I watch movies that take place in the summer months in places like Ireland and England, I realize how hungry I am for lush green fields, vibrant flowers, and billowing oak trees. I ache for spring—and usually get very emotional at the first sign of life.

Despite the cold and ice, I still run outdoors in wintertime. It’s more for my mental health than my physical health. I have a four-mile loop I jog through a residential area. My route eventually curves around a reservoir with a quarter mile stretch of gravel path hugging the edge of the water with a stunning view of the Rocky Mountains.

I don’t know how many times I ran that route this winter before I first noticed the eagles.

I happened to glance up and notice a bald eagle perched on bare tree limbs silhouetted against a blue sky. He craned his yellow beak down toward me and watched me pass right below him. On my next run, I noticed more. Had they been here the whole time? I cut down along the frozen bank of the reservoir and into a small wooded area of naked trees painted golden by the morning sun and counted 10 more eagles.

Like most people, our family is isolated and practicing “social distancing” right now. School, church, the gym, restaurants, libraries (sob), many stores, and all my plans for speaking and attending conferences were cancelled in less than a week.

Although we are on the cusp of spring, our world is re-entering a winter season of isolation and chill. And I’m trying not to hate it.

Today, I find hope in remembering that this is a season. It may be a long, chilling season and just as our gardens do not always recover from ice, wind, and snow, we will suffer real and invisible deaths. Many of our plans have already turned to ash. But although much in our life is going dormant, returning to “normal” life will bring a joy we’ve never known. In the meantime, we can look for the eagles.

This winter, my children enjoyed listening to a Sesame Street CD we checked out from the library. One song called “Nearly Missed” caught my attention and replayed itself in my head. It’s a reminder to me, to us, as we try to stay awake to the joy, the life, the small mercies:

“While lookin’ at my feet, at a crack in the sidewalk

An old tin can by the side of the road

I nearly missed a rainbow

I nearly missed a sunset

I nearly missed a shooting star going by”

On my run this morning I didn’t see a single eagle, though when I ran two days ago I spotted two bald eagles perched side-by-side. The eagles were only here for winter. And I nearly missed them.

Although I know I’ll burst into tears at the first daffodil signaling this season’s end, I’m trying to keep my head up and notice the beauties and mercies of this season of isolation.

***

Unrelated, but if you are stuck at home with littles, check out these great resources (some winter eagles?):

Lunch Doodles with Mo Willems (author of Don’t Let the Pigeon Ride the Bus) is doing a video each day showing kids how to draw and how he creates his books.

Enrichment Materials and Activities This has some great resources related to some more creative activities for kids.

Educational Companies Offering Free Resources There’s a ton here–I haven’t even delved into most of it.

Making the Most of “Extra Time” A great place to start if you really have no idea what to do with your kiddos at home.

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Do you need a spiritual awakening? (I do.) I have an idea …

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been spiritually asleep for too long now. A friend recommended a book recently called In the End–The Beginning by the German theologian Jurgen Moltmann and one particular chapter re-energized me and gave me some ideas for Lent. He says:

“In prayer we wake up to the world as it is spread out before God in all its heights and depths … the person who prays, lives more attentively. Pray wakefully.” (p. 83)

And I asked myself: What if I started praying again–actually praying? For a set amount of time… And how would it transform my life to pray “wakefully”?

He continues:

“When we wake up in the morning we expect the new day; and in the same way, the waking which springs from prayer to God also leads to the expectation of God in the life we experience. I wake up, and open all my senses for life–for the fulfillments and for the disappointments, for what is painful as well as for what gives joy. I expect the presence of God in everything I meet and everything I do … People who know that there is someone who is waiting for them and expecting them never give themselves up. And we are expected.” (p. 85)

Do I wake up expecting the presence of God in everything I do? Expecting God? And finally, this quote:

“To go through life with open eyes, to discern Christ in unimportant people, and, alert, to do the right thing at the right time: that is what praying and watching is about. We believe so that we can see–and withstand what we see.” (p. 86)

I’ve found this to be true. It reminds me of the Chinese friend I talk about in my book who encouraged me to pray for the pang bien de ren–the “right next to you people,” then watch for how God answers your prayer.

Would you consider joining me in praying for a set amount of time every day during Lent?

I tried this once before when I was single and living in China and it transformed me. That year, I read a psalm aloud and then spent an hour praying aloud every morning during Lent. Now that I am married with three small children, I’m thinking thirty minutes might be all that I can carve out, but I’m desperate for a spiritual reawakening.

We’ll begin this Wednesday with Ash Wednesday and end on Easter Sunday, but I hope this sparks a new habit of being spiritually awake to the work of God all around me.

If you’re interested, drop a comment here, email via my contact form, or send me a dm via social media to tell me you’re in and I’ll email the small group of us a couple times over the next few weeks just to see how things are going. Let me know your goal in the form of time. Personally, I’ll attempt to pray every morning from 5:15-5:45 am (which will mean going to bed super early…), but you can pick the time frame that works for you and your season of life.

If you can’t commit to this, but would like another challenge, you could also consider doing a digital detox/fast during Lent. You can read my post here for ideas on how to do that. Highly recommend. 

Feel free to share this with a friend and invite them to join you.

Blessings to you as you seek to live purposefully and wakefully right where you are.

xo
Leslie

I don't know about you, but I've been spiritually asleep for too long now. Would you consider joining me in praying for a set amount of time every day during Lent? #Lent #Lent2020 #prayandwatch #prayer #Lentidea #Lentgoal #mindfulness
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Advice for Writing a Book


[In the style of Verlyn Klinkenborg, one of my favorite authors on writing. I wrote this after writing and publishing my first book so I wouldn’t forget–just in case a next book wants to be written.]

1. Your book proposal is the blueprint of your book, but it will change.

2. Save at least 15 percent of your advance to use for marketing your book later.

3. Your final draft should bear little resemblance to your first draft. Tell (lie to) yourself: “It’s okay to write terribly. No one ever has to read this.”

4. You’ll be tempted to quote people smarter and more eloquent than you. Don’t let this become a crutch. Say it your way (and ignore all The Voices telling you why you can’t or shouldn’t do this work).

5. When you revise, print out your pages and mark them up. Highlight your verbs and nouns—are they vibrant, active, and concrete?

6. Schedule days (and maybe even weeks) to rest and let your manuscript sit, like dough rising.

7. Carve out space for solitude and listening. Go on long walks, runs, or bike rides alone. Pay attention.

8. Build up a support network years before you publish.

9. Count the cost of writing a book.

10. Print out your entire manuscript and bind it like a book. Do this after every major revision. Read your entire manuscript aloud several times over many months.

11. Use scissors to revise. Sometimes cutting, rearranging, and retyping the entire thing will help smooth out the wrinkles in your transitions.

12. Spend 80 percent of your social media real estate promoting others, 20 percent promoting yourself.

13. Save the stories you cut to use for articles and essays later.

14. Don’t apologize for writing, selling, or marketing your book. If you’re not excited about it, no one else will be.

15. Figure out how to use Scrivener. It will save you tons of time in the end.

16. Social media is not writing.

17. Platform building is not writing.

18. Reading books about writing is not writing.

19. Fans aren’t doing you a favor by buying your book. You did them a favor by writing it.

20. For inspiration, read books about writing or listen to podcasts about writing. (But remember: this is not writing.)

21. To tame anxiety, read poetry.

22. Be a generous writer, reader, reviewer, and fan of others.

23. Be yourself. Trust you have wisdom, words, or wit to add to the conversation.

24. A book launch doesn’t end the day the book releases. This is not a finish line, just another starting line.

25. Your book is not you. Let it go out into the world to be what it will be, then write what’s next.

26. Stay rooted in love.

Have you written a book before? What advice would you add?

Photo by Jonas Jacobsson on Unsplash

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