The Wonder Report: October 18, 2024

Finding a Way Back

Oct 18, 2024

Hello again (or for the first time to new subscribers)! Happy Friday!

It’s been a long while since you last heard from me. I took a lengthy hiatus while I worked full-time and went to grad school full-time. I certainly missed this space to share and think together, and once I turned in the last class assignment, I turned my sights toward writing here again. But I’ve struggled to know where to start. So, based on the good advice of my spiritual director, I decided to start where I left off … and to write a little bit about how I’ve gotten to this new place in life.

So for now, we’ll just jump back in and sort out the particulars later. Here we go!

Planned Detours

During the summer construction season here in central Indiana, we often found that even our normal driving routes were disrupted with orange cones and white- and orange-striped barriers. A road on the way to Dad’s was closed as we headed to his 4th of July pool party. The road we take to the pharmacy and our favorite Mexican restaurant was barricaded for weeks. Recently, even the back way to work that I drive most days was suddenly closed, and instead of a right turn, I was forced to go left, hoping that my sense of direction would serve me well in getting to work on time. Thankfully, it did.

The last couple of years of my life have felt a little like summer road construction season. Shortly after my mom died in August 2021, I sensed God calling me to a new vocation, even after decades of working toward the professional writing career I was finally enjoying. As many of you will remember, after months of discernment, I enrolled in graduate school to pursue my Master’s of Information and Library Science degree, and I began a new job as a marketing assistant at my local public library. All after moving to a new home in a new town and seeing our youngest son leave the nest. It felt a lot like setting up orange cones and “Under Construction” signs all around my life, saying “no” and “not now” to everyone who braved this detour around my life.

Now, on the other side of earning my degree, which I finished in June, and beginning a position as a children’s librarian, which I began in January, the signs are down and the cones are gone, but the way forward doesn’t feel the same as it used to. Somehow, I thought that after working full-time and going to school full-time for two years, I’d just drop back into my old ways of doing things. The Saturday after I turned in my last graduate school project, I got out of bed early and made breakfast for my husband, Steve. When he came into the kitchen, I kissed him and said, “Hi, remember me?” as if I’d just returned from a long trip.

It’s not that I thought everything would be the same, especially since many of the circumstances of my life had changed. Before, I worked at home full-time, mostly by myself, with lots of focus and quiet. Now, I work 40 hours a week away from home in a very busy and bustling library. Before, if I forgot to pull something out of the freezer for dinner, I could just pop down from my upstairs home office and grab what I needed. Now, I’m often scrambling to figure out what to cook after being at the library all day. Before, I could start and end work whenever I wanted to, spending long leisurely mornings reading and praying. Now, I rush in to work early to get things ready for storytime or to feed the fish before my shift at the reference desk.

No, I knew things would be different.

But I guess I thought I’d be the same.

And I’m not.

Over the past two years, I’ve learned things and experienced things and suffered things and delighted in things that have changed me. I've developed new habits and made new friends and gone to new places that have formed me into someone different than I once was. I care about things I never used to care about. I use words the didn’t used to be part of my vocabulary. And God has used all of it to help me grow and change into someone new, someone different — maybe even someone better — just like the newly paved road with the reinforced shoulders that I drive to work on most days. The pain and inconvenience of construction season really paid off there, but growth and change always come at a price. Yes, what’s ahead is good and welcome, but what’s left behind needs to be grieved before I can move on, before I can find my way back.

So in a season where life has opened up a little, and there’s suddenly room at the end of most days, I’m still pressing pause and continuing to say “no” to a lot of things for a while. But here’s what I am doing: I’m taking more naps and walks. I’m reengaging in some better eating and exercise habits. I’m reconnecting with friends, going on hikes, and reading lots of great books — none of which have been assigned to me! In a phrase, I’m chasing wonder again. If anything will help me find my way back, it’s wonder.

Mostly, I’m asking God again and again: Who have you formed me to be in this new season? And quietly and slowly, he’s beginning to answer.

I wonder … what has happened in your life the past couple of years, both the big and little things? How have they changed you? Who has God formed you to be in this new season?

A Blessing for When You’re Different Now

I love this blessing from Kate Bowler for when you’re different now than you used to be. It came into my inbox at just the right time as I’ve been sorting through all that’s changed and all the ways I’ve changed. I hope you can receive this blessing at the place you are now.

How to Show Up for Your Grieving Friend

I didn’t stopped writing entirely over the past couple of years. In fact, an article I worked on for InTouch Ministries was recently published. It’s called, How to Show Up for Your Grieving Friend, and I wrote this one straight from my heart and my experiences, both as a griever and one who wants to help. I hope this might be a helpful resource for you, too.

What to Expect from The Wonder Report

I’ll admit that I’m wading back into public writing with a little trepidation. I’m not sure how much time I’ll be able to commit to it. I’m concerned about keeping my writing life separate from my day job. I’m uneasy with the way online writing can be twisted and weaponized.

Would it surprise you to know that I actually wrote most of this newsletter two months ago and then nearly hyperventilated at the thought of sending it out? It’s true. I’ve spent the past couple of months trying to discern where to go next. To be sending this out now is the result of a lot of prayer and listening.

Not to mention: Not only am I different after the past two years, Substack has changed considerably since I was a regular user here back in 2022. When I first started using this app, it was mostly a way to send out a few thoughts by email, have a conversation about them, and keep an archive of it all. Now it’s a full-fledged social platform, with functions and features I’m not even sure how to use. As someone who’s found my way off most social media the past two years … and lived to tell about it … the changes here feel overwhelming and unwieldy. And in some ways, unwelcome. So I’m not promising to jump in wholesale to this “new economic engine for culture.” I’m just here to chase wonder … with you. The more you can take what you find here offline, into your homes, communities, and in-person conversations, the more I’ll feel like my work here is succeeding. I hope we can talk more about this in the days to come.

Well, you’ve come to the end of another Wonder Report. Thanks again for joining me. It’s a privilege to share this space with you and to enter into these conversations together.

As always, if you’d like to send me a note or ask a question, you can hit reply and end up in my inbox. You can also leave a comment over on the Substack app. I can’t always respond quickly, but I try to always respond.