Things That Make Me Cry

Two Dancing Feet

Dear Friends,

The good news is I’m not drowning today. The bad news is that I already drowned. On Monday. When the marketing campaign for my next book began and Beautycounter launched their Holiday sets and their new website had fits and Becket stopped napping and my whole plan for getting work done this month, while my friend who helps babysit my kids is away, went up in flames. Now, I’m just sitting on the ocean floor, admiring what a nice place it is and wondering if I should build a winter home down here.

Anyhow, my drowned self has determined that until Kate gets back, the Q&As just can’t happen. They take an enormous amount of writing time, and that is one thing I definitely don’t have. So, instead, for this week’s newsletter, I spent the morning writing you a little essay about something that I think is beautiful (and hope you do too). Next week and the week after, I’ll come up with something else beautiful to share with you. Despite the current crazy, I promise not to neglect you or drop these weekly newsletters, even though I do need to neglect your questions for a bit.

Now, about the essay below, please watch the video first. Really, do. That’s the only way this essay will make sense. Then, read the essay. It’s short and should only take about 5 minutes. Then, when you can, watch the video again. My hope is that you will see it in a whole new light a second time around. There is so much beauty in this world. And in my current completely drowned state, sharing some of the beauty I see with you seems like the most useful thing I can do, both for my soul and (hopefully) yours.

Blessings,

Emily

P.S. The essay below is free for everyone, but there is no kinder way to thank me for it than by becoming a full subscriber

My dad was once a basketball player. I don’t know how good he was. He went straight into the Navy after high school, then by the time he went to college was married and had me, so he never played beyond twelfth grade. But I still have boxes in my basement filled with black and white photos of my teenage father in his basketball uniform—tall, lanky, ball in hand—and he looks like he was good. He looks strong, quick, and light. More than that, he looks at ease, so confident in himself and his body, so sure that his limbs will obey him, that they will pivot, run, jump, and even fly if that’s what he wants them to do.

I wonder, in his last years, how often he thought about those days. Did he close his eyes and remember the feel of the court beneath his feet or what it was like to leap towards a basket and leave the earth behind? Or maybe he tried not to think about it. Maybe it hurt too much. Maybe the neuromuscular disease, which slowly robbed him of his ability to walk, sapping the strength from his legs and the feeling from his feet, made basketball the last thing he thought about. Maybe it was the simpler memories—carrying his grandkids, wrestling with us as little girls, just walking across a room, hand in hand with my mother—that occupied his thoughts at the end.

I don’t know. My dad wasn’t the type to talk about those things. Even if we had asked him, he wouldn’t have answered. But I think about him running and jumping again all the time now. It helps. I miss my dad. I grieve his absence. But I also feel profound relief. I have great hope that he’s not suffering anymore. And I have even greater hope that on the last day, when all the bodies of the faithful are resurrected and reunited with their souls, my dad will get to race down a basketball court again, hug his grandchildren, and dance with my mom.

That, in a certain sense, is what all who die united to Christ are promised: an “imperishable” body, raised in “glory” and “power” (1 Corinthians 15:42, 44). Just what exactly that means is a mystery, but I like to think Saint Thomas Aquinas comes close to the mark when he talks about the six “properties” of the resurrected body: quality, identity, integrity, impassability, subtlety, and clarity.

Those terms can sound a bit vague, so I’ll quickly define them. “Quality” means our bodies will be resurrected in the peak of their physical strength, health, and attractiveness. “Identity” means the same soul you have now will be united to the same body you have now (albeit resurrected and glorified); basically, it means you will still be you. “Integrity” means no matter what happens to your body in this life, in the next life, it will be whole, with lost limbs restored and injuries healed. “Impassability” means our resurrected bodies will be incorruptible; they will not and cannot grow sick, feel pain, age, or die. “Subtlety” means two things. First, the laws of nature will no longer apply to us; like Jesus after His Resurrection, we’ll be able to walk through walls if we so choose. Second, we’ll be able to perfectly communicate ourselves; all the obstacles to sharing ourselves or understanding others will disappear.

“Agility” is the sixth property Aquinas attributes to the resurrected body. It means our bodies will do whatever we want them to do and do it perfectly. We will have perfect control, perfect coordination, perfect grace. If we want, we’ll be able to fly through the air with total ease. Last of all, comes “clarity,” which not only means that our bodies will be illuminated by holiness, literally glowing from within, but also that our bodies will perfectly express our souls, bearing total witness to the fullness of who we are.

That’s what I hope for my father. I hope that one day, he will get to run again—run and jump and soar, perfectly and completely himself. That’s what I hope for me, too. And for all of us. I hope that these fragile bodies, which age so much faster than we expect, will rise again to dance before the Lord, that they will whirl and twirl and leap with a grace that puts David’s dancing before the Ark to shame. I want lightness for all of us. I want communion. And I want joy.

This why this the Edward Sharpe video above makes me weep. Because it makes visible a shadow of those desires. It gives form not just to my longing—my desire for what C.S. Lewis called “The Great Dance”—but it also shows how that longing abides in every human heart. We’re all longing for the dance for which we were made.

The Great Dance

You and I were not created for this world, with sickness and death, infirmity and old age. We were not created for a life where joints grow stiff, backs ache, and chairs confine us for years on end. We were created for Heaven, for everlasting life spent in perfect joy, peace, and harmony with one another. We were created to fly together, leap together, dance together, and do it all while beholding God’s most loving face.

Deep down, we know this. Deep down, we feel it. Even if we can’t articulate it, we long for Heaven and the life we will lead there. That’s what we’re all striving for, whether we realize it or not. We’re reaching for Heaven all the time, trying to get just a taste of it here and now.

Sometime that striving leads us to make poor choices, to grasp at good things but in the wrong ways or wrong times. But other times, that striving just leads us to dance.

We can’t have Heaven right now. But we can move our bodies in harmony with music. For as long as a song plays, we can feel just a little bit stronger, a little bit lighter, a little bit more full of grace. While we dance, we can feel a little bit more like ourselves—more fully and joyfully alive. So, we do. We dance—all of us, in some way. Poor and privileged, men and women, young and old, all nations, all cultures, all religions—all of us dance or long to dance or can’t quite stop ourselves from dancing. Even those of us who say we don’t dance or hate to dance can’t stop our feet from tapping or head from nodding when certain songs are played. Each of us was made to dance before the Lord. And our bodies will do what they were made to do, even if our earthbound spirit tries to say no.

That’s what I love about this video: the deep humanity of it, the longing to move with beauty, strength and grace in every last person it spotlights, from the admiring little sister and girls doing Double Dutch, to the cheerleaders and step dancers and members of the New York City Ballet. All of them, in the deepest recesses of their heart, long to be who God made them to be and do what God made them to do. Even if some of them have no idea what that means, they are still striving for it in this one little way. They are stomping and jumping, clapping and leaping, shimmying and shaking, whirling and twirling, sometimes doing it badly, but still throwing their beautiful bodies into the air in one glorious act of praise after another.

And it is praise. Whether they know it or not. It’s all beautiful. It’s all joyful. It’s all truly human. So it all gives glory to God. It’s all one stunning human act of praise.

I have watched this video with my children maybe 100 times, and every time we watch it, I find more to love. I love the joy in the cheerleader’s faces. I love the strength in the step troops stomping. I love the confidence of the tumbler’s walk. I love the dreams in the little sister’s face.

I also love the wistfulness in the gaze of the mothers, who know time is a thief. I love the pride in the eyes of the coaches, who know the goodness of what they see. And I love the beauty and freedom of the man and woman dancing together, in that last perfect scene, which comes as close as anything in this life can to showing us the wonder, mystery, and glory of who we are and who we are made to be.

I want to dance like that prima ballerina. I want her grace, her poise, her control, her strength, her lightness of being. I want all that in body and I want all that in soul. Someday, God willing, I will have it… and so much more. Someday, God willing, we all will have so much more. Just not today. Today my back hurts and my torn meniscus is acting up and my hormones are doing some perimenopausal shimmying and shaking of their own. Today all I can do is watch a music video and cry at the beauty of it—the beauty of the human person, the beauty of the body, the beauty of life—and long for the even greater beauty in the life to come.

But that’s good, too. That’s why we have art. It is a window. Through it, God shines His light, illuminating our world and helping us to see all of creation, including ourselves, more clearly. And when we look along that light, back through the window, we catch glimpses of Him and the Great Dance to which He invites us.

I hope I get to that dance someday. And I hope when I get there, I get to dance with you—after, of course, I’ve danced with my dad.

Five Things I’m Loving

1. The toddler gang here is currently obsessed with Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and Honey, I Blew Up the Kid. Yes, the movies from 1989 and 1991. They are clean and funny and simple, and make me feel like I am 14-years-old again, so I don’t mind at all.

2. My forthcoming children’s book with Scott Hahn, The Supper of the Lamb. Yes, I know, it’s terribly gauche to say you love your own book, but I do love this book. I think it’s the best and truest thing I’ve ever written, and I can’t wait to hold the actual book in my hands and read it to my children. If you too want to have a copy in your hands as soon as it’s released, pre-order today.

3. These beautiful photos of some of our family’s favorite saints just arrived from the January Jane Shop, and they are perfect. I am so proud of myself for ordering them well ahead of All Saints Day, and plan on hanging them up in our kitchen all November long.

4. Beautycounter launched its limited edition Holiday sets this week, and while I love them all, I am most excited about the Clean Eau De Parfum Duo (both scents smell amazing and are among the first perfumes to be EWG verified) and the Plump and Polish Trio, which is the single best thing you can buy if you are looking to both clean up and step up your skincare game without a lot of time or fuss. This set contains three of Beautycounter’s all-time best skincare products—the Lotus Cleansing Balm (which can be used as both a cleanser and an overnight mask for dry skin), the Mighty Plump Ceramide Water Cream, and the Reflect Effect AHA Exfoliating Mask. All three products are super gentle, super powerful, and super safe for everyone, including pregnant and nursing moms. Use the code CLEANFORALL20 to save 20 percent on your first order. Buy any two sets before Sunday, and Beautycounter will pay for your shipping. (And if you just want one set, let me know and as long as your purchase is over $50, I will reimburse you.)

5. My newly organized Spice Drawer! I spent several hours last weekend turning my wreck of a spice drawer into something that brings me more peace than a glass of wine. I used these racks (which are 8” each and come in sets of 2) and these bottles. Best use of Amazon points possibly ever.

One Last Thing: If you love joyful families, good friends, great conversations, amazing food, and beautiful churches where the grace is palpable, I would love to have you join my family and me in Italy next summer. We have single women, couples without children, and families with children (from babies to teens) coming with us, so no matter your state in life, you will absolutely fit in and be welcome. There are just a few spots left, so please pray about signing up.  

In Case You Missed It

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 to All Subscribers)

The Greatest and the Least: The Eucharist, The Lord, and The Liturgy Wars (unlocked this week only for all subscribers)