Happy Monday, Friends. We are all out of sorts here, so my normal newsletter schedule is too. Next week, I have high hopes of getting back to my Q&As, but this week, I’m sharing another free mini-essay. This is both because these thoughts have been rumbling around in my head trying to get out and because two big things are happening right now that are keeping me hopping. (No, not another adoption). I hope to be able to share news of both soon.
As always, these free newsletters are made possible by those who graciously chip in $6 each month and underwrite the time it takes me to type out these thoughts. I am so incredibly grateful for your support, which in addition to keeping these newsletters coming, is currently funding electrical repairs in our bedroom. If you too want to contribute to the “Stop the Chapmans from Burning to Death in Their Sleep” fund, just click the little button below. 😁
P.S. Like when I did this a few weeks back, you’ll want to watch the video first, before reading the essay. Then, after reading, come back to read it again if you are so inclined.
During the late Spring and early Summer of 2020, I took the Instagram app off my phone. I stopped posting. I stopped scrolling. I stopped checking messages. In part, I did that because I had a book to write, and I didn’t need the distraction. I also did that because I didn’t want to think through the complex questions of pandemics, systemic racism, and the proper limits of government with design influencers.
Don’t get me wrong: I did want to think through those questions. But I wanted to do that by reading thoughtful books and listening to interesting podcasts and engaging in charitable conversations, not by reading 300 word posts from people who had a deep knowledge of color theory but zero knowledge of critical race theory.
Moreover, I didn’t want to scroll through an Instagram feed that was all politics all the time. I wanted to see design influencers actually post about design. I also wanted to see mom influencers post about motherhood, faith influencers post about faith, and food influencers post about food. I didn’t need endless reminders from everyone and their brother that the world was fast becoming a Hobbesian hellscape. What I needed was people showing or sharing or making something beautiful, reminding me of the goodness which lies at the very foundation of the world.
But people weren’t doing that. Some because their hearts were consumed by grief, anger, or fear. Others because they couldn’t bring themself to post about a new sofa while people were marching and cities were burning. And more than a few because they had been told, in no uncertain terms, that “Silence was violence.”
Something similar—although not as extreme—is unfolding right now, in the wake of Hamas’ savage attack on Israel and Israel’s subsequent retaliation. Which is why, again, design influencers are weighing in on geopolitical strategy, most having never thought for more than five seconds about the quagmire that is Middle Eastern politics.
I get it. I get all of it. I get why some people feel like they have to say something, and I get why some people are scared to say anything. I get how impossibly hard it is to post a recipe for granola when babies have just been beheaded in their beds. I also get how difficult it is to speak up about an issue when you know very little about it.
But if you’re hesitant to weigh in online about something you’re still struggling to understand, yet feel guilty posting pretty pictures of your fall garden or last night’s pumpkin soup or your cute kids in cute costumes, set the guilt aside and post the pretty pictures. Post the pretty pictures, please. Because the world needs to see that little piece of pretty, too.
Learning in Wartime
Eight-three years ago, in 1939, C.S. Lewis was asked to deliver a lecture to incoming Oxford University students. War was raging across Europe and more than a few people, including many of those incoming students, wondered if maybe they shouldn’t be elsewhere. Were they modern day Nero’s, foolishly studying Latin or Greek or Shakespeare, while the world burned?
Lewis’ response to that worry was simple. The world is always burning.
“We are mistaken,” Lewis said, “when we compare war with ‘normal life.’ Life has never been normal.” When we look around the world or across history, we see that war, not peace, is normal.”
Sometimes, he went on to explain, we see this truth more clearly than others, nevertheless the fires are always raging. They’re raging now. They were raging 1,000 years ago. And, if we are still here, spinning around the sun, they will be raging 1,000 years hence. War and strife, abuse and betrayal, cruelty and callousness are a way of life on this planet. They are not a departure from normal life; they are normal life.
On an even deeper level, Lewis continued, even in times of seeming peace, one war—the war—still rages. This is the war that has been going on since the foundations of the earth were laid and Lucifer balked at God’s great plan.
There is not a moment of human history that has not been darkened by battle. Every day, in every corner of our world, angels and demons are fighting all around us. And they’re not fighting over a piece of land the size of New Jersey. They are fighting over us. The battle is over our souls, and where those souls will go when our bodies die: Heaven or Hell.
When we recognize that, Lewis said, the real question isn’t How can we study literature in wartime? It’s How can we study literature anytime?
“How is it right, or even psychologically possible,” he asked, “for creatures who are every moment, either advancing to Heaven or Hell, to spend any fraction of the little time allowed to them in this world, on such comparative trivialities as literature or art, mathematics or biology?”
The answer, of course, is because that’s what we were made to do. We weren’t made for war. We were made for love. We were made for beauty. We were made for God. And our souls long do what they were made to do. No matter what battles, visible or invisible, are raging around us, our souls long to give love and make beauty and seek God. They long to bring order to the chaos, just like God once did when He spoke into the darkness and said four little words: “Let there be light.”
So that’s what we do. And in doing so, we participate in the battle for our souls. Our refusal to be anything less than who God made us to be is a blow to Satan. When we compose symphonies and write poems and sweep the floors of our house with love, we are imaging God. If we do that in times of peace, that is good. And if we do that in times of war, it is no less good. It is, in some ways, greater. It is an act of defiance against the lord of this world. It is telling him that no matter how he twists other men’s hearts, he will not twist ours. He will not stop us from doing what God made us to do and being who God made us to be.
One Day Like This
And that brings us back to the Elbow video I shared at the beginning of this essay. Yes, the world may seem bleak. It may look no better or even far worse than a dusty, dirty highway, lined with strip malls, and blurred by cars flying past. Our lot in life may seem grim, and we may feel insignificant, trapped, weighed down by the weight of sin, sorrow, and suffering, powerless to change even the slightest bit of it.
But we are not powerless. We are the image of God. And in the midst of this whole broken mess of a world, we can make something beautiful.. We can take whatever mundane task has been entrusted to us in this day and use the talents entrusted to us turn it into a glorious dance for God. We can toss it and twirl it and hurl it into the air, showing Satan that he has no hold on us.
So toss the sign. Never mind the ugliness all around you. Never mind if anyone takes note of what you’re doing. Never mind anyone who says what you’re doing can’t make a dent in the world’s hurt—that’s it’s silly, shallow, or selfish to make beauty while the world burns. Never mind all that. Make beauty anyhow. No matter who you are or what you do, make it defiantly, boldly, joyfully, and do it all in the ordinary, messy, chaos of this day.
Make it by sweeping the floor or tidying your desk or lighting a candle.
Make it by digging in dirt or rolling dough or touching up the paint on your baseboards.
Make it by going out of your way to serve someone or smile at someone or listen to someone with your undivided attention.
Make it by reading, writing, or reciting a poem.
Make it by wearing a cute dress or new boots or red lipstick.
Make it by dancing or singing or writing or drawing or designing or growing or studying or building or organizing or driving or cleaning or whatever it is you have been given to do, and do it with your whole heart, like you’re doing it for God. Because you are.
Then, if you want, tell the world about it on social media. Share the beauty with others who need to see it, too. Tag me in it, and I will rejoice with you. Or not. You don’t have to post anything. It’s fine to keep the beauty you make between you and God. There’s something beautiful in that, too. Just don’t let it be some misplaced sense of guilt that’s holding you back from sharing.
And yes, absolutely, pray for the vulnerable, the mourning, and the needy. Give generously to them from your own poverty, not from your wealth. Learn and serve and act as you can and when you can. That can be a way of making beauty, too.
But through it all, image the God who made you and be the guy, standing in front of a dirty, stinking, dumpster, with a boring job and a flimsy sign on a hazy highway, who turns what could be an absolute soul crushing day into a triumphant dance of grace and light.
Make beauty. And share it. I promise, it matters. It’s worth doing not just despite the bombs dropping, mothers mourning, and tent cities going up along your downtown sidewalks, but because of all that. It’s part of how we were made to live and made to fight. Just as He did. Just as He does.
Five Things I’m Loving
Speaking of doing something beautiful for God, launch day for my newest children’s book with Scott Hahn, The Supper of the Lamb, is this Thursday! Books are in the warehouse and pre-orders are shipping now, so if you want to get one sooner rather than later, pre-order yours today. Then, if you love it even half so much as I do, help me spread the word by sharing it with friends, families, parishes, schools, and on social media.
Today is the last day to snag Beautycounter’s limited edition, Hidden Gem Makeup Set, when you spend $150+. The set includes a travel size Glow First Priming Serum and a full-sized Cheeky Cream Blush in my favorite color of the season: Jewel. (This offer works on first time Beautycounter orders, with the code CLEANFORALL20).
Katie Bogner is releasing a beautiful new book called All About Advent and Christmas: Sharing the Seasons of Hope and Wonder with Children and I was lucky enough to get a sneak peak of it. It is such a lovely and simple way to help little ones understand the deeper meaning of the coming season and celebrate it in your own home (or classroom) with them. You can pre-order your copy now, and books ship later this week.
I bought these cross-back aprons from the Little Rose Shop to thank some friends who are helping me with The Supper of the Lamb launch and ended up keeping one for myself. It is my absolute favorite apron right now—super cute, super easy to get on and off, and super durable.
One of my oldest and dearest friends is coming to stay with us for a few days, and for serious health reasons, she has dozens of foods that are off limits to her. Meal planning is a bit of a challenge for me because of that, but I think I will be using this meatloaf recipe from Chris Loves Julia for our All Saints Day Dinner. I’ve made it before and despite being grain free, dairy free, and egg free, it’s really surprisingly good. Passing the recommendation along for anyone with similar limitations (as eater or chef).
In Case You Missed It
Discerning the Will of God: On Babies and Dreams (full subscribers only)
The Devil and All His Works: On Demons, Deliverance, and Celebrity Exorcists (Full Subscribers Only)
Yoga, Redeeming Satan, and the Desire to Be Desired (free for everyone)
Thank you SO very much for these words of hope in inspiration to our souls!
I am blessed to be a happy person by nature and was exceedingly blessed with a mother who taught me to choose happy.
My Dad who fought in WWII was such an inspiration to me because of "who he was" after being brought up in a home where he was beaten...
...then he helped free Flossenburg Prison Camp, so I know that he saw horrors.
But he only brought us children his love and kindness and stopped the beatings.
My sisters and brother have always said "he is a Savior" for our family by stopping the abuse!
[Not our Savior, Jesus Christ, but nonetheless for our family situation]
Since all of us together have 24 children and over 110 grandchildren, I think that Heavenly Father would be pleased, for the abuse to have stopped.
I always try to look for happy and joy; and with your words in mind I will look for MORE!
When my sweetheart died over 16 months ago after so many good years, I have had many people tell me how strong I am.
Well, I tell them, what choice do I have?
I can choose to mope or I can step up and move forward as I should.
There is much to do, many to love, many to serve and many who can love and serve me in return.