Whatever is good.

Burning up guilt + passing around some goodness.

Hello! Helloooo! Do you hear that echo? It’s me. In an editing cave.

I am deep into major developmental edits on my next book for you, and this email is me, coming out of the cave to start a little campfire in which to burn my guilt for not writing to you much this month.

This month I’ve been trying to rebuild my strength after Aseptic Meningitis, rebuild my IVIG dose because of that setback (read: unpleasant and inconvenient, but it’s going well!), stay grounded in the midst of some truly unsettling circumstances, and do the hardest edit of my life on my very first memoir. Over the weekend, I wrote the foreword to my friend Joy Prouty’s beautiful new book and came home to tell Ryan how I really really need to write a substack post for you too.

His response? “You are only one person. You can’t do it all.”¹

Per the usual, the man was right. So, instead of pushing myself beyond my body’s limits this week, I am sharing some of the good things that have been filling my soul lately. This isn’t the kind of essay I—for some unknown and shadowed reason—normally feel is worthy of substack, but you know what? It’s the real stuff of my life right now that is actually giving me room to dwell in hope.

Let’s consider this a practical passing of the peace.

Here are a few good things that have been filling up my soul this month. In no particular order. 🔥🔥 Let’s burn up some guilt and pass around some goodness, shall we?

🎬 The Penguin Lessons

This true story set in Argentina in the early days of a military dictatorship absolutely wrecked me with hope. Not only is it beautifully shot—every frame could be a painting—it holds exactly the kind of reversal that I long to see in myself and those around me. The shift from self-focused shut-down to others-centered action. A penguin changes an English teacher’s whole interior world and an entire community, and I know that sounds cheesy AF. But it’s not. Warning, both Ryan and I did cry in the movie theater. Bring tissues for this one or maybe don’t go with a date you don’t want to bear your soul to. This is the most beautiful film I’ve seen this year so far.

📕🌱 Good Soil: The Education of an Accidental Farmhand by

Jeff Chu 朱天慧

You know a book is great when you reach the final page and find yourself holding it to your chest for a good minute straight. This was the right book at the right time for me, in a remarkably powerful way.

I read this on the recommendation of my editor at Convergent, who worked on the book. She thought it would be a helpful memoir to read while I edit my own. But it was so much more than an inspiration for my craft. It was a gentle force of care to my bruised spirit.

Jeff writes of God and the spiritual life in a way that I could receive as good and true. Many of you know, I don’t resonate with almost any “Christian living” books anymore. This is not that. This is a story, told exquisitely, of spirituality and soil that was tender enough to reach some of the most tender places in me. I’m not exaggerating; I’m just not sharing details, because my experience reading this was that personal, that raw, that real. I feel the need to hold the experience closely for now. I don’t say things like this almost ever, but I think God met me in Jeff Chu’s book.

Some stunning quotes:

“Calvin thought he was condemning humankind by describing man as ‘a five-foot worm,’ but here is the truth, which offers a richer and worthier reading of the metaphor: God empowered worms to take refuse and transform it into redemption.”

“I hate this body, which can’t even complete a one-person job—closing a barn door at the end of a workday—without another body’s help.

Love your enemies, Jesus said.”

“This body is housing—enclosure and infrastructure. Sometimes I wonder, Can this body also be my home?”

Get a copy via Bookshop.²