I started writing The Holy Labor in 2020, as I transitioned from theological work on vocation at the Collegeville Institute to full-time self-employment as a writer and speaker. I never imagined that this weekly newsletter would become part of my freelance work, but the creation of paid subscriptions allowed me to dedicate more time and energy to writing here.
I want to develop and deepen my writing here in 2023, so I’d love to invite your feedback with this quick survey: 5 short questions—all multiple-choice!
In particular I’m curious about the balance between essays and link round-ups. Are they of equal interest to you as a reader? Would you prefer more of one or the other? Would you be willing to become a paid subscriber to get more of what you like?
Here’s the survey for your feedback.
As a thank-you for helping me plan the next year, I’ve rounded up the most popular posts on The Holy Labor in case you missed any or just joined us. (I will read any year-end round-up, so I love these.) I’m especially grateful for the paid subscribers who’ve made it possible for me to invest in my own work here. All of you who read and share my words make a huge difference, so thank you for being here and reading along!
Top 5 Posts of 2022
To Live Close to the Bone: “Lately I’ve been thinking about how Jesus was poor. Not in a romantic way, but in a brutal way. He likely knew hunger, thread-bare clothing, and hard work for scarce pay. He lived close to the bone, like most humans who have ever lived. We cannot romanticize poverty; it is as deforming as wealth. Yet what do we do with the troubling truth that less was the side of the equation on which God chose to dwell: with the have-nots? What might be the consequences of our own opposite choices: the desire for comfort, ease, security, abundance—even enough?”
On Big Families & (Un)Chosen Callings: “Looking back now, could I have glimpsed in them a hint of possibility I couldn’t see in myself? A capacity to love and give and stretch. A willingness to let life’s demands smooth down rough edges like sandpaper. The humility to embrace a calling the world calls crazy. We cannot see the full truth of our lives within our own skin. This is why callings need conversation partners. Why vocational discernment is a life-long process for everyone. Why we need to be less certain of our ability to grasp the whole truth—and more willing to listen to the wisdom of others.”
Yearn the Heart: “I have never forgotten how that felt, to be made small for what I loved. To be stabbed in the back for yearning the heart forward…If you love too, if you yearn the heart forward, if you keep going when wounded people wound you, if you keep your eyes and hands fixed on the point and purpose of being a human and seeking the divine, you will wind up with a heart like that. Broken and bleeding but still beating.”
Never Enough Time: “We mortals are forever trying to control kairos within chronos, wanting to wedge God’s holy time within our earthly own, wrestling the coming of God into calendar countdowns. But Incarnation is inbreaking, brought forth by interruptions from the God of surprises, working in ways no one expected.”
The Clearing: “A clearing brings deep breaths: a wiped windshield or an unclogged interstate, a field after forests or a meadow open and inviting. The same word brings optimistic announcements, too: the weather or traffic or snow is clearing, thank God. What relief when we can see a way forward where there once was none.”
Top 3 Posts for Paid Subscribers
An Advent Encounter: “And the mother says, Amen, and I do, too, which makes no sense since I have already gotten my chance to take and eat the bread that is Christ, but in truth I could keep saying Amen every time I see another receive it, and I still would not reach the fitting end of praise or wonder or stupefying belief-help-my-unbelief (which is why watching people in the communion line stands among my favorite spiritual practices of all time).”
In Gratitude: “I spent many of my ambling hours in churches wondering about the people who didn’t leave their thanks. The prayers that weren’t answered. The sons who died in war. The babies never born. The healings that didn’t happen. The conversions that never came. Not a single marble plaque, chiseled in permanence and plated in gold, reads I didn’t get what I wanted. Yet you and I and every human we know could tell this story, too. These are the mysteries of faith: how grace is not a money-back guarantee, how saints aren’t slot machines, how God’s ways are not our ways.”
Why It’s Impossible to Practice Resurrection: “I’m called to deepen my wonder at the mystery of an empty tomb, of a walking talking fish-eating bread-breaking Risen Christ reappearing with wounds in his hands…But ultimately I feel called to sink to my knees or fall flat on my face, like the silent ritual of surrender made by priests on Good Friday, to humble myself in front of what I cannot do. Which is resurrection. Which is saving people myself. Which is bringing back those who are gone. Which is turning every real and symbolic death into new life.”
After you take the survey here, I’d love to hear more about your favorite newsletters–on Substack or elsewhere. Feel free to share your own in comments, too!
I cannot choose a favorite. I am trying to be more mindful and live my life now in grace. I live on a busy farm in the middle of nowhere. Agribusiness is king in my part of the world. I was a Medical Practitioner with a specialty in pain control for patients at the end of their lives. I felt useful and I fully lived to comfort others. I raised 10 children, and now I face the horrific loss of purpose because of the awful sin of growing old. Your writings are like CPR to my soul. I find depth, meaning and joy in your words. Please continue to write memes. I love your perspective and insight. Your writing is a blessing to me each and every time. Even my husband is a fan. We often herd cattle and speak of your latest writing and marvel at your diversity of thought. Sending blessings from California!