In my last letter, I shared a piece of my story that, up until now, I have kept close to home. There has been a time and a purpose for that, but ultimately, I couldn't continue to write with full integrity without giving proper context. I have spent years making sense of my story and seeking counsel. I have a handful of friends and family who know every last detail and have handled my heart with care. I have received both radical grace and necessary truth, which have ultimately led me to a much deeper reverence for God and the words He has left us in the Bible. A least for me, all have been necessary to help me fully reconcile my past with my present. Where the last couple years of my thirties were marked by a painful tearing down of what was not bringing me life, the first couple of years of my forties have been spent rebuilding from the soft foundation of the earth up to something that, all glory and honor to Jesus, feels sturdy. There is freedom in coming to a place where you know it must be torn down, exposed, redrawn, and built bit by bit.
At the same time that was all happening, we were building a physical house. We were there the day the foundation was poured. I knew in my mind that foundation was different. I saw the plans for a completed home, yet I was still shaken from my personal demolition. My heart had not yet caught up with the truth that we could start anew. Over those ten months, as we watched our house being built, I also watched the pieces of my heart be put back together in ways that I never even knew to ask for. My testimony is not one of my strength. That had run out years ago. All that I have to show now a result of has often felt like shaky and feeble trust in a God whose ways are higher than my ways.
In October of 2018, we were nearing the end of the building of our physical home. We moved in with a sense that this would be a place where we could truly rest and hopefully continue to heal. We had no idea what the next two years would bring us, including entering into a global pandemic, but I can say that we flourished as a family in that home. Fast forward one year to October of 2019, I found myself in Colorado at a retreat that became yet another turning point in my life. It was there that I began to catch a glimpse that there may be a purpose in my story. I walked away from that time with a sense that something was stirring. I felt the overwhelming kindness of God in those days. I saw Him in the changing of the aspens, in the sound of a flowing river, in the voice of David who asked me a question that would change the trajectory of my relationship with God as our father.
Fast forward to one year to the almost to the date later, I found myself in the middle of Wisconsin at a place called Sand Valley. It was there when I was given a vision for a book that I have been putting my hands to ever since. It shouldn't go without mentioning that October is a notoriously hard month for me historically, but for the past four years, some of my most painful memories have been slowly and surely replaced by visions and promises from God. He can and does "restore the years that the locusts have eaten" (Joel 2:25); it may not happen in our ways or time.
I tell you all of this because I would like to tell you a little more about my book, what it is and why I am writing it. The few days that had the intended purpose of a golf trip with friends turned into a sacred place where I was given the gift of clarity in a way that I had never had before. Rather than recount the details here, I will share a post that I wrote from my time there.
Undeserving and yet utterly and entirely grateful for surprise after surprise from God. That's grace, and that has been the theme of this past week.
Our friends Jeff and Alise invited us on this trip about six weeks ago. We said yes, with very little details about the trip, but knowing we would be in for a fun adventure with some good friends.
Last week I found myself reading through Isaiah, which happens to be my favorite book in the Bible. Isaiah had no easy task of speaking hope into people who were still in the midst of despair. In poetic and metaphorical fashion he points to creation, using rain and snow, mountains and fields, seeds and trees to point us all to life that is to come.
Having grown up in Oregon, I have always been drawn to evergreens. The last verse of chapter 55 stood out to me. "Where thorn bushes have been growing, pine trees will grow instead. Myrtle bushes will grow where there are weeds now. Those things will show everyone that the Lord is great. It will be a sign to people forever."
The rain and snow will water the earth. The land will sing, seeds will be planted, and once barren land will be filled with evergreen trees. It's a long process with nothing returning void.
When we arrived in Sand Valley this week, I quickly came to learn that the course was built on a pine tree preserve. Thousands of acres of Jack Pines that grow in sand and release their seed in a fire. They play a vital role in our ecosystem and reproduce in the midst of the most intense heat. It was as if those words in Isaiah were being painted right in front of my eyes. I had literally nothing to do with the planning of this trip. I just showed up to surprise after surprise from God. So much of this past year was made clear to me this week. Nothing is wasted. None of it will return void. Not your tears, your questions, your hopeless days. God's ways are higher than our ways. If you are walking on barren land, hold on. Pine Trees Will Grow.
Pine Trees Will Grow. That is the working title of my book. It will be a verse-by-verse look at the 55th chapter of Isaiah, one that starts with an invitation and ends with a promise. But that's not the whole story. A few verses in the middle call us to be sober-minded, to confront the parts of our hearts and our stories that aren't bringing ourselves or the people around us to life. This is the often painfully exposing bridge that connects the beautiful invitations of God to His promises of a life that flourishes. It is my a bit about my journey to discovering the boundary breaking kindness of God that meets us in the most unexpected places.
"Where thorn bushes have been growing, pine trees will grow instead."
So that's it. That is the premise of my book. At the present moment, I have a completed proposal that I have presented to a couple of agents. The feedback has been encouraging enough for me to keep going. The truth is, the whole process of writing this book has been forming me along the way. That will be enough if I get nothing else out of this process. I am motivated to see this through to the end, though. I have a deep desire to leave behind an artifact of sorts. It is my hope that this message is timeless. I hope my daughter can pick it up when she is grown and see her mom just as she is, an image-bearer of Christ who struggled through a thing or two but ultimately came to know in a very real sense that His ways are indeed higher than my ways. Ultimately, this is what I deeply desire for all of us to know.
What are my next steps? Well, I'm glad you asked! Publishing a book is a long, often slow work. As part of the feedback I received, I was encouraged to do things like start this newsletter and hopefully find a group of people who connect with my message. I sat on that for a while because I wanted this place to be somewhere I was excited to show up to, and one that hopefully exchanges a good deal of value for the time you spend reading it. It would mean a great deal to me if you haven't subscribed and like what you are reading to subscribe with your email. I will never, ever spam you! It would also mean a great deal if you would share it with other folks you think may like it. My plan is to start putting words to the chapters I have laid out, while at the same time writing here once or twice a month. My end goal is to see this book through to be published. Finally, and most importantly, I would covet your prayers that I would handle my story and the word of God with a great deal of care.
Thank you for being here. Truly. Your words of encouragement have been one of the biggest reasons I love coming back. May God be with you wherever you find yourself.
Julie- Hope the book project is coming along and that “pine trees will grow” indeed. Colorado is beautiful and there’s so much inspiration!
Beautiful Julie!