writing round-up 3: return of the round-up
yeehaw from an (almost) 30-year-old
Howdy friends,
It is time for another monthly-ish round-up. If you are a new subscriber—first, welcome, and thank you for being here! Second, know that instead of sending each published piece as its own email, I prefer to send these buffet-style newsletters that recap what I’ve been writing as well as what I’ve been enjoying from others.
As I’ve noodled more on my why behind this method, I’ve realized that it is not only because I want your life to be filled with less notifications (I do), but also because a lot of what I write is heavy. Maybe I’m overthinking, but it feels like ~a lot~ to hit you with an unprompted thousand words on death, grief, or eugenics (or a combination of the three) on a Tuesday afternoon.
When I started this Substack late last year, I knew I wanted to get back into writing, that wrestling out words is how I connect more deeply to myself and to God. I didn’t realize how much I wanted, needed to write about grief and loss and hope, about resurrection and redemption, about goodbyes and hellos and motherhood without my mother. Now we’re over half a year in, and I’m sensing a theme.
Really, when I write about death I am writing about life. That it is a beautiful, messy gift. That it is hard, and there in the hard flows an eternal spring of hope. I am writing about the ultimate of ultimate truths: that in Christ, death is defeated and love never ends. So, if an archive of death-grief-hope-motherhood-suffering-and the occasional Kermit the Frog photo speaks to you, I hope you’ll stick around.
Lastly, I turn 30 this week. My baby and I share the same birthday, so there will be much celebrating—including a karaoke party (because I truly think I was meant to be a pop star in another life.) Those of you who are real-life friends and will be there, start warming up your vocal chords now. To the rest of you, “I don't know half of you half as well as I should like,” but I like you all and wish you could be there too. Please let me know if you have a go-to karaoke song.
If you feel so moved to throw me a bone on my birthday week, it would mean a lot if you commented, shared, or liked a piece below that connects with you. (But know that no comment will mean as much as this text I received this summer, reviewing my debut at the church “hoop group”:)
Thank you for reading. As always, I pray the words you find here would draw you further up & further in to the true home you were made for.
Gratefully,
Han
two nights in Baylor Hospital, nine years apart
The story of what I thought would be my last night with my mom, mirrored in the story of welcoming my baby girl.
Dear Mallory
I wrote my daughter a book about my mom. I don’t want her to experience my mom as an idea, an outline, or someone to be whispered about. I want her to have a book to hold, to have pictures to look at, to have stories of my mother that fill her imagination with color.
When you sing a silly song or play with your pup,
When you eat spicy food or choose not to give up,
When you have fun outside or like shooting a ball,
Your Big Sandy’s there in a part of it all.
She was brave, kind, fun, spunky, silly and loud,
I see those things in you, and I know she’d be proud.
But the most important thing that she’d want you to know,
Is that she trusted Jesus, and He was her hope.
I'm glad Noor Siddiqui’s mom exists
I got a little worked up about embryo screening. It is infuriating to live in a world where people’s worth and dignity is determined through a utilitarian lens of how productive of a life they might live, or how much suffering they might face.
As we hurtle farther and faster into a dark new frontier, we are in desperate need of a strong ethical and moral framework to put limits around the possibilities of new biotechnology. The pressing question of our time is not “what is possible?” but “what is right?”
What is good? What honors and dignifies humans—from embryos to the elderly, sick, and dying, and everyone in between?
love without parting
Thoughts on goodbye from Tim Keller, John Donne, Paul, and Kermit the Frog. This one’s about losing my mom, losing my kids, and the deep-down things that somehow, gloriously endure.
We are not forever severed. There is a golden thread of love that ties us to each other, even now. She continues to be my mother. I continue to be her daughter.
Through Christ, and in Christ, love has no end.
Rachel weeping for her children
After the horrific flooding in my home state of Texas, I shared a note with some reflections. It seemed to strike a chord, so I expanded on what it means to lament in a society embarrassed to grieve.
The American can-do spirit says we can take any tragedy and give it a positive spin. We are overcomers! A shallow, hollowed-out version of the Christian worldview takes our very real hope and distorts it, forming Jesus into a warped Uno-Skip-Card that we can slap over grief. No need to get too upset. God is good! All will be well.
But Scripture paints another picture: a mother who refuses to be comforted. Pages and pages of brokenhearted souls crying out, wailing, questioning. God in the flesh weeping at the death of his friend Lazarus.
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!
“O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?” by
. It has been sweet to connect with this brother and see God’s faithfulness in our lives as we reflect on cancer from different perspectives. “I think about death quite often. Not because I want to die, but because I want to live. In my years wrestling with cancer and the twelve years of meditating and ruminating on what I’ve experienced, I have come to the conclusion: embrace death, find life.”These two folk poems by
about her dad and mom were a gift to read. The specificity of sharing her own parents lays beautiful groundwork to consider our own cherished memories.This series by
on “Tolkien’s Guide to Defiant Joy” was so deeply encouraging to me. I am excited to hear that he is writing a book (aimed at young men but I may just have to check it out myself)!If you liked my piece about embyro screening, please read these beautiful pieces: “Optimizing Suffering Out of Existence” by
, “Parenting an Autistic Child in 2025” by , and looking at the opposite end of life, “Let's Agree to Be Burdens to One Another” by .- is not only an incredibly talented and creative writer, but he is one of the kindest cheerleaders of other’s work. He published “Golden Hour,” a cosmic mystery short story that had me on the edge of my seat and coming up with some wild (and wrong) theories.
“Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” by
(a real-life friend, and fellow Aggie English grad!). I loved this reflection, and am so excited to hear the news that she is finishing her first novel. We truly love to hear it.
Thank you for being here! Now, go outside and smell a flower, or pet your pet, or hug a friend, or kiss your baby, and be free!
