Rebuilding the Wall

my farewell essay

Photo by Jonny Gios

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I've written this essay in my head a hundred times.

Should I share the long version or the short version?

The long version involves a Christian hairdresser, a feud over Mr. Rogers on Facebook, a bad case of Mom brain, three shiny cop cars, Covid 19 and a whole world in quarantine, moving to a mountain, having my fourth baby smack in the middle of Covid protocols, and the fact that my friend died last week.

I would dearly love to share the long version with you, but every time I try, it comes out sounding like a Flannery O Connor novel. And if there is one thing I've learned about literature, it's that you're not allowed to write like Flannery O' Connor unless you are Flannery O' Connor.

Otherwise, you're just another mentally unhinged weirdo on the Internet.

And since the short version sounds too much like a cheesy Christian greeting card written in some flowery script that looks nothing like my actual handwriting, I am going to see if I can find a middle way here.

Last weekend I attended a short (three hour) prayer retreat for creatives, during which we listened to talks on the Trinity, creation, and icon-making. We had two sessions of silent, private prayer. During the second session, I was sitting alone in a room with two different sheets of paper spread out on my lap. The first was the beautiful “liturgy for the death of a dream;” the second was a series of prayer prompts regarding desire and bringing one's desires before God.

As soon as I began to pray, this essay (the one I am writing right now) began to write itself in my head.

The essay in which I say “goodbye” to you.

Four years ago—as a tired, old-new mom of small babies sitting in a Christian hairdresser's chair—I had a spiritual breakthrough. A miracle. I was overflowing with joy for days and days. And during that time, God called me—clear as these black words on a white page—to share my faith with you through my writing.

For me, writing these essays has been an act of rebuilding my interior life. I hope also that they have encouraged you and helped to build you in your faith.

But at the retreat last weekend, my sense in prayer was that I have said what I needed to say and that it’s time for me to say goodbye to you (for now?) so that I can focus on a new assignment He has give me.

This realization came to me with many tears; I had actually hoped to continue this publication and to watch it grow. But when the season for something is over, it’s best not to drag it out.

Though I will no longer be writing weekly essays, I plan to keep this publication here for the time being, and I will likely share an update in a month or so if you are interested in hearing about my new undertakings.

I want to thank you so much for taking the time to read my words each week. I know that, as modern people with devices and infinite information available to us, our attention is pulled in many different directions. I don't take yours for granted.

I would like to close with a question and an exhortation. Does God have an assignment for you?

There are so many things you could do with your time. But is there something specific He wants you to do? Is there something He wants to bring into the world through you?

God bless you.