A round up of January

from exercise and Catholicism, to hugging more and sharing clothes

Quite a few writers I follow have end of the month reflections and I always enjoy reading them. Writing them myself however, it does feel a little self-indulgent as I sit here wondering, why share these lists and who really cares?? I suppose no one cares very much per se, but the enjoyment comes in the same way that it does in talking with a friend when I learn what they are thinking, reading, struggling with, or laughing about. So here goes:

Something I’m reading: I need a good novel, that is true. I finished Persuasion and enjoyed the Close Read’s discussion of it (particularly Heidi’s insights—especially the Q&A episode where they addressed the question, do men need to read literature written from a woman’s POV?).

Other than that, of late it’s been more philosophy/culture/theology and nighttime reading with the kids. Again, I am limited to what I can pull off my actual shelves, but I am really loving a dive back into some old goodies like:

• He is There and He is Not Silent by Francis Schaeffer. I could have been a philosophy major if I was smarter than I am. Also if I could, I would be Edith Schaeffer, and my house would be L’Abri.

• Simply Jesus by N.T. Wright. I read it in the mornings, alongside the gospels and allll my questions.

• Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (with Quinn— and I have more questions. Do people still read this? How do they handle the derogatory language? I do not read certain words out loud, but I’m wondering how to handle this book and is it an important part of the literature canon?)

• Treasures in the Snow, by Patricia St. John (with Margot) . I love this simple, sweet story of transformation and forgiveness in the best setting— the Swiss Alps. No questions from me. Just snow and wise grandmothers.

• Notes of a Native Son, by James Baldwin (listening to this one on Libby as I clean). I am not asking anything here, just listening and trying to wrap my head around his the thoughts of this beautiful mind and the experience of our black brothers and sisters.

Something I’m exploring: Month-long fasts. I was inspired to try this by Tsh Oxenreider, who shared her plan for doing an entire year of trying something for a month at a time. A month feels more do-able, especially in a year where upheaval and change is looming and trying to keep routines or commitments for long periods of time seems like setting myself up for failure. I am also historically bad at fasting. So 30-day stints are what I’m trying. Intermittent fasting in January, a bread-free February. Next month, no sugar.

I’m also doing a slightly deeper dive into Roman Catholic theology. This is in no way an exploration for the sake of wanting to convert, but more wanting to learn and have a better understanding of it both historically and theologically. I have long appreciated writers and thinkers across the theological spectrum (especially the Catholics!), and lately have been intrigued and sometimes irritated by either the condescending criticism of Roman Catholicism by people in my theological camp, or the conversion to RC by people I respect. So, I just want to be more informed. And of course, as soon as that happens, I seem to see conversations popping up everywhere. A couple I found interesting were this one with the NY Times writer Ross Douthat, and this one by a thoughtful young theologian who is asking a lot of good questions.

Something that is bringing me joy: Sharing clothes as a family. I’m not sure all of why this happened— maybe the fact that we (the five of us who are adult-sized) are all struggling for clothes right now, or that some maturity has happened and there is less possessiveness, but it is all making me smile. Ari and Sadie switching coats, the wild and constant rotation of hoodies, the boys finding old basketball shoes for their sister, the boys borrowing their dad’s suit-coat and ties, Sadie wearing my jeans, me wearing her sweaters, the boys wearing Sadie’s necklace, me wearing theirs. Pants, shoes, socks, shirts, you name it. It is all free game. And our style is probably completely shot.

Something I’m preparing for: Moving. And with moving comes sorting, and selling, and clearing out. I’ve been working through every room in our home making lists and paring down and it feels like it is making me both prayerful over all the change, and also allowing me to look ahead with anticipation of the good.

Something I’m saying goodbye to: Nursing—the baby that is. She is almost two, and it is time. My two day retreat was helpful and she is getting more independent. While this is a goodbye that I’m not ambivalent about, it is one that I’m ready for and I think she also needs.

Something I’m doing more of: Physical affection. I was thinking the other day how with the range of kids we have, it is especially easy to see the difference in how much physical affection we give them when they are little, as compared to when they are big and less cuddly. But I know the big one’s need it just as much, if not a little differently. So I’m trying to be more conscious of that. Hopefully without being weird.

Something I’ve missed: Exercise. The winter months have been hard. I haven’t gone for a run since November. But this week I said enough, I have to do what I can, even if it’s jumping rope and doing lunges in the laundry room.

Something I’m looking forward to: Libraries. And bookshelves. Part of leaving is naming the things you will miss and the loss that is a part of that. But part of leaving is also naming what you are looking forward to, and that feels especially true for someone like me who can sit in the loss and the sadness a little too easily. Josh and I have both said a big thing we look forward to is access to books. Sadie has said her “one joy” right now is thinking about the bookshelf in her room (her inspiration pic below). The other night we looked up libraries in the area where we’ll be living and just sat in the wonder of what it will be like to enjoy them once again.

The month has gone by so fast, and yet these movements of body and soul and mind and heart are things that take time, and that change slowly over time. I’m grateful to look back over these short weeks and think on the slower movements of growth that are taking place. It’s a reminder that the good work of making our lives is something we both see God doing, and learn to do ourselves with care. I think of Psalm 90 that says in one place, Teach us to number our days but also, Let your work be shown to your servants.

That’s a monthly prayer right there: teach me to number my days, and show me the work of Your hands.

Until next week.