Nothing about now feels ordinary.
Quite the opposite. Every morning it seems we wake up to the world upheaved again, everyone angry or worried, discord and division everywhere.
At best, there’s a simming low-grade anxiety about what comes next or where we go. At worst, abject despair erupts about our survival as a species. I hear wise, intelligent people (from across the political, social, and religious spectrums) discuss in serious terms whether we’re nearing the end of times.
And yet, here we are. Still in Ordinary Time. Still here at all.
I find tremendous reason to hope. Resurrection, sunrises, forgiveness, summer, new babies, work for justice, Scripture, poetry, gardens, books, the abiding presence of Love Incarnate—there are a thousand reasons to get out of bed in the morning and see what God might be up to today.
But I know it’s hard. And lonely. Bewildering at times, to know how to navigate the tensions within these extraordinary ordinary times. To respond to unprecedented news and to make dinner again. To worry what next year’s election will bring and to figure out the kids’ sports schedule. To watch extreme weather destroy people’s lives and to pack for the summer road trip.
What I know is that God is still with us. Always Emmanuel who walked among us, ate and drank with wrecks like us, watched the best and worst of what we could be, loved us anyway.
I can’t give up on us yet, despite all evidence to the contrary. I can’t shake this stubborn faith in the everywhere-and-always presence of the Living God.
Which is exactly what led me to write a book on Ordinary Time in extraordinary times.
//
For years I’ve wanted to dive into the theology of this longest season in the liturgical year. What does it mean that we’re given so much Ordinary Time, especially in a world that feels anything but? How are we called to live into this growing, changing, transforming time?
Over time, especially as a parent, I’ve been drawn to the quieter corners of life over the high feasts. I crave silence and stillness over adventure and excitement. I find more of God in the ordinary and the everyday.
But when I went to my (overstocked) bookshelves of spiritual and theological reads, hungry to learn more, I found not one single book on Ordinary Time. Surprised, I sat and wondered for a long time why we overlook the obvious so often.
We spend most of our lives in Ordinary Time. But we miss its gifts and treasures if we don’t stop to pray and ponder.
So I wrote The Extraordinary Ordinary Time: a short collection of original essays, prayers, poems, and creative ideas to help you pray. My hope is to help all of us enter into the promise and possibility hidden within this holy season.
That our ordinary living matters.
That we can encounter the living God within our everyday lives.
That we need Ordinary Time most when everything feels like the utter opposite.
Today you can learn more about the e-book here and grab your own copy. Because here’s the most important part: The Extraordinary Ordinary Time is a kickstarter fundraiser for a brand-new project I’m launching this fall.
Starting on Labor Day, Mothering Spirit will become a collaborative, ecumenical gathering place for conversations on parenting and spirituality.
The essays, prayers, and resources will now be written by a diverse group of mother-writers, shaped by the liturgical year that we share across Christian traditions, to help parents pray all year long.
I have much more to share with you soon about the new Mothering Spirit. (You can explore the site today and let me know what you think!) But for now, I’m grateful for your support in our kickstarter. All proceeds from The Extraordinary Ordinary Time will go directly to the writers whose words you’ll get to read very soon.
I hope this book will lift you up—in the lingering months of this fleeting season, in the daily bustle of your busy life, and in the troubling times in which we’re living.
If you need to deepen your own prayer these days, I pray that The Extraordinary Ordinary Time will open your eyes to the beauty of this season—and the wonder of God’s presence among us.
Even now, in extraordinary times.