A fresh start

What I've been meaning to tell you for months

Looks different around here, doesn’t it?

Rare is the life that hasn’t been upheaved in 2020. I console myself with such thoughts when I get overwhelmed. None of us could have imagined the view from here.

I haven’t written a newsletter in two months. Never felt like the time was right. I had a huge announcement to make—set to post on the morning after George Floyd was murdered.

As I watched my beloved Minneapolis burst into flames, I quietly deleted the news. I sat in the silence for a long time. Determined to listen and learn, as I’d been trying to listen and learn for years, but with renewed intensity, clearer eyes, righteous anger.

I wondered what was left for me to say.

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Here is the news: I quit my job. To write full-time.

I loved my work, loved my colleagues, loved spending over a decade of my life dedicated to theology and communities of calling. But for a long time I’ve been wrestling, restless. Knowing I was called in new directions—both to my writing and to my family—yet not knowing how to change.

I needed to shift into work that I could do 100% from home, that didn’t require extensive travel, so that I could prioritize family time and not spend every cent of my salary on child care. (Are you laughing at the pre-pandemic irony yet?)

Most of all, I needed to listen to all the voices (inside and outside) telling me I was called to write. No longer on the margins of my life, but firmly in the center.

For over a year I discerned this change. My patient spouse and closest friends listened to me circle and circle around what to do, where to go, how to leave.

Finally I flung myself flying into the leap. Announced the news to my coworkers in January.

Then birthed a baby prematurely in February.

Then watched the whole world turn upside down in March.

Then had to let go of every single plan I’d made.

I had no idea what to do. Barely sure of what I’d done.

Quarantine was brutal. The preeclampsia that prompted our baby’s premature birth stuck with me for eight long weeks, pulling me in and out of the hospital, taking a heavy toll on my physical and mental health. The postpartum depression that wrenched me for the first time was darker than almost anything I’ve known.

What’s more, the ordinary extraordinary that rocked so many lives to different degrees—quarantine’s isolation, Covid’s anxieties, politics’ polarization, racism’s reckonings—left me shaken.

Breathless and bewildered at how I’d taken the biggest personal and professional leap of my life at the exact moment when life crumbled around us.

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There are no neat and tidy endings to this tiny tale.

I am still plodding through each page. Relearning how to draw strength from Scripture. Remembering how to keep praying even when you feel lost. Rediscovering the wisdom of living one day at a time, no more.

After a long spring and into a hot summer, I am starting to get my bearings.

Now I am doing the work slowly, daily. The work of caring for myself. The work of learning how to live fully into a new calling (without child care, too). The work of letting go of my own expectations and releasing into God’s abiding presence.

I’m working on a new book, one that I never expected to write but one that feels right for now. I’m starting to freelance again (and take on virtual speaking engagements for the coming year). I feel like I’m coming back to life, unfurling leaf by leaf into bright sun.

As I’m finding my footing, I feel new life breathing into shadowed corners. This is long labor, but it doesn’t have to be lonely. I’m deeply grateful that you’re here.

You can see that I’ve changed up the name and look of this newsletter.

The Holy Labor will explore and celebrate callings big and small, the worthy work that fills our days but too often goes unnoticed.

I’ll still be writing about the same subjects as before—family, work, vocation, prayer—but I have some surprises up my sleeve that I can’t wait to share with you. I want to lift up more of what others are doing: good writing, creative ministry, new resources, prophetic work.

Plus I’ve switched to Substack, which is a great platform for writers to support themselves from their labors. My hope is to move more of my writing here and invite you to partner with me to bring it to life.

Next week I’ll share some of the gems I’ve been collecting over the past few months, since The Holy Labor is truly a gift I want to give to you.

For now—thank you. For being here. For supporting my work and sharing my words. For shining light of your own.

I’m finally looking forward to what comes next.

Peace,

Laura

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Find my books here: Everyday Sacrament | Grieving Together | Prayers for Pregnancy & Birth | To Bless Our Callings | Living Your Discipleship