writing round-up 2: electric boogaloo
yeehaw, again!
Howdy!
We’re back for another round-up. As I touched on last time, when I consider sending out an email for every post, a tiny Andy Crouch pops up on my shoulder and slowly shakes his head, giving me pause.
It may be a me problem, but I don’t want to add multiple notifications to your life each month, and have chosen instead to give you just one: a monthly-ish roundup that highlights the words I’ve brought forth lately. Let’s call it a smorgasbord, where you to dig into what you want and skip the rest. And for dessert, I’ll end with a few links to pieces I’ve been enjoying from other writers.
I pray the words you find here would draw you further up & further in to the true home you were made for.
Gratefully,
Han
love & other drugs
My favorite piece of the month. It’s about my mom—before me, with me. It’s about me—with her, losing her, missing her. It’s about my daughter, and all I wish to tell her in the case of my untimely death. It’s about cocaine and questions. But most of all, it’s about love.
On the day you find out that your dead mom did cocaine, you might start to wonder why, despite knowing that her end was near, she did not try to leave you a magnum opus explaining everything she ever learned and wanted you to know.
unanswered prayers
My new friend Abigail generously shared that “reading this essay is like breathing a poem, saying a prayer, finding myself in the words of a friend who understands the pain of unanswered prayers and still believes he is worthy.”
My unanswered prayers hurt. The ache is real, and deep. And, somehow, there are deeper things at work. I don’t know what God is doing. And, somehow, God is here. I feel like he is holding out. And, somehow, he has already freely, lovingly, painfully, given all for me.
motherhood and the machine
Sometimes you just gotta write a quick 4,000-word manifesto that could be summarized with the boomer bumper sticker, “Let go and let God.”
The Machine has conditioned us to think that everything can be optimized, frictionless, controllable, tidy. This might work for your budgeting app or the Webkinz account you had in fifth grade, but it doesn’t translate to a human infant.
normal people
This piece is a mash-up of Bilbo, George Eliot, the new phrase going around that “you can just do things,” and this exchange from
and .
We all know some people who truly are extraordinary. But I reckon that many of the world’s extraordinary acts are done by ordinary people, who are open to an extraordinary God.
a pruning parable
The dramatic destruction of our beautiful, old oak tree requires a dramatic personification-filled parable on pruning.
Avoiding the precise, purposeful cuts of a careful arborist may have felt like freedom at first. She sidestepped pain, trial, taming. She grew large and loud, beautiful but untenable. And in the end, this faux freedom led to death.
to conclude: cowboys like me
We’ll end the round-up with a rapid-fire rodeo of some fellow writers whose words have encouraged me, made me think, or if I’m lucky, both. These people feel like kindred spirits—cowboys like me!
“all my friends and I talk about is getting rid of our phones” by Quirine Brouwer. I sent this to my friend Rachel and she texted back, excrutiatingly true. That about sums it up.
“Lament to the King of Homonyms” by
. A beautiful, honest, and creative poem from a kind and thoughtful soul.“Darkness Is My Closest Friend” by
. This feels like a sibling to my post about unanswered prayers. We stand in awe, indeed.“Making the Best Use of the Time” by
. I am grateful to find another foster mom writing and wrestling and leaning on the Lord. I’ve thought about the torture chamber metaphor in this piece nearly every day.“Living in the age of plastic” by
. Seeing women push back against the normalization of plastic surgery makes me stand up and cheer! The final few paragraphs especially are so good. Let’s all just accept our faces <3
Thanks for reading. Now, go outside, or pet your pet, or hug a friend, or kiss your baby, and be free!
Thank you, Hannah! I’m so encouraged by how God uses our words to resonate with each other. I appreciate your round-ups!
Hannah, I love your roundups and am thrilled to have my poem included here. Your kind words bless me, friend!