called to be more than we are.

We have to be braver than we think we can be, because God is constantly calling us to be more than we are, to see through plastic sham to living, breathing reality, and to break down our defenses of self-protection in order to be free to receive and give love. – Madeleine L’Engle

I have given two years of my body to Atticus, nine months of growing him and thirteen months of breastfeeding. We’re going to round those extra two months and call it an even two years, okay? While I was growing a person, both in and out of my body, I felt a marked lack of creativity. I expected it; I was told that it’s not possible to grow more than one thing at a time. But I didn’t know how draining it would be. Now that I am feeling more like myself (an extra tired version of myself), I pulled out one of my favorites to remind me what creativity feels and sounds like again.

When it comes to Madeleine L’Engle, I am the worst kind of hipster. I don’t get excited that you have also started reading her. I get mad because she is mine and, to be honest, I would rather not share her. Please go away and find someone else. There are so many other authors for you to choose from. I have seen a lot of people mention Walking on Water in the past year, and it made me squinch up my nose, because that is a book that meant a lot to me when I read it almost 15 years ago. A book that, eventually, helped me decide that I did want to open myself to parenthood. I don’t know how to share it, or to put into words my feelings about it. I simply know that it helps remind me what it means to be human, how so much of this dance of life is about co-creation with God.

So I re-read it, and I can’t point out any deep revelations. Instead, it simply reflected back to me so many truths I believe deep down that I needed to hear again. If I weren’t such a hipster, I’d tell you to read it yourself. Instead, I want you to know that it was part of me before all the cool kids were talking about it. Oh, and by the way, I listen to bands that don’t even exist yet.

My impression is that I tend to read a lot of non-fiction in January, but I went and looked at my reading lists, and it’s not true. I did read a lot of non-fiction last January, out of desperation: Now I have a baby and I don’t know what one does with a baby. But I didn’t write down what I read last year, so I can’t prove that to you all. This January, I have already read three non-fiction books, and I’m in the middle of another one (with several on my bedside table). Perhaps this will be the year of non-fiction.

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