It’s Been a Year (and Two Weeks)

Or, It’s Not Biblical

One year and two weeks ago today, I wrote a resignation letter. 

Though I wouldn’t hand the letter to my boss until the end of January—when the holidays and my boss’s sabbatical were over (I’m not a monster)—it was important to have it done. Though it was time (long past, likely) to leave the job I’d held for over ten years at church, still, I worried that I’d chicken out. That my desire (and need!) for a steady paycheck would overwhelm my desire (and need!) to do the right thing.

So, I wrote the letter as a promise to myself. To steel myself against future doubts. To rid myself of having to write a hard letter when perhaps more felt at stake.

Then, I went into that Advent and Christmas season with my resignation letter ready, but with only my husband, kids, self, God, and Google knowing it would be my last as an employee and as a member of the church that shaped me.

As this following Advent draws to a close, as I’ve reflected on the Peace, Hope, Love, and Joy of the season, I keep thinking, What a year it’s been. What a change.

First, on the church front: Where for the previous decade, I was at church all the time—especially during Christmas and Advent. This year, I don’t go. I tried. Really. But as I’ve told others and as I’ve told Jesus, leaving my church feels like a divorce. I was hurt. I was angry. I was confused and felt betrayed by the turn the church and denomination took. Perhaps we just “grew apart.” But my heart was and remains broken by the decisions that were made. 

Though I’ve worshiped many other places that align well with what I feel the Scriptures and Spirit say about loving others and The Issues that caused me to walk away, I’m ready to offer my heart to another church—not yet.

Things with me and God are good, however. Maybe better than ever. I know plenty scoff at the idea of being a non-church-attending Christian and I do believe corporate worship is important, but lazy Sunday mornings are really healing! So restorative. Especially when there’s an F1 race on. Who knew I’d get into that? But this is what happens when you get extra time to hang with your husband after missing these mornings for a decade. 

I still love the Church. I still love Jesus. I still rejoice in the Incarnation and all Jesus’s being born meant for this lonely world. And I trust one of these days the Spirit will woo-woo me back to church. 

Second, on the work front: While I’m now able to enjoy a slower week before Christmas (hallelujah! This is amazing!), I just signed a contract for a two-book project that I do need to get moving on. This year, my new Frankinschool series launched with Monster Match. Book two, The Cupsnake Escape, comes out in February. And Book three, Gone to the Dogs (gotta get dogs in here!), comes out this summer.  

I wrote an Eastery picture book that I’m currently revising. And I’ve made progress on my slow-moving middle grade novel (poor thing. One day I’ll finish you, Angel!). I remain so grateful to be a working writer. What a gift. 

As are the opportunities I’ve had to edit this year. Lord, have I edited. Book upon book upon book—an absolute abundance of work and clients I never imagined when I left my job. I’m so grateful for the clients who find me through Reedsy (what a fantastic organization) and through the grapevine. 

It’s such a privilege to be trusted with people’s manuscripts and their hearts, minds, and souls. The writer-editor relationship is so vulnerable. So tender. Especially for new writers. (My own editors can tear me to bits. I’ve got deep creative callouses.) 

Something holy happens when an editor and writer click, when we understand one another. And I get to stand on that ground and help not only make a manuscript better—but help writers and their work feel valued and loved. Stragenly, editing turns out to be some of the most pastoral work I’ve ever done.

And this doesn’t only happen when I work with Christian writers. The writers I’ve worked with this year have fallen all over the theological, sociological, and political spectrums. I love that the writers trust me—knowing where I fall on certain issues, knowing that I may disagree with their perspective, but also knowing I seek to help them put out the best book they can.

All this to say, I love this work. 

In fact, I love it so much, I’ve started compiling a list of the editing and writing mistakes I see again and again. In the new year, I think I’ll start sharing some of those. Maybe here. Maybe via social media. We’ll see. 

In the meantime, here’s a quick one, a Christmas gift: 

• Welcoming the stranger is not Biblical. It’s biblical. 

• Loving your neighbor is not Biblical. It’s biblical. 

• Polygamy is not Biblical. It’s biblical.

Adjectives are neither particularly holy nor proper names. So, lowercase them.

Wishing you all the happiest of holy days and a bright new year ahead!

Merry Christmas! ¡Feliz Navidad! God Jul!