Day 16: Favorite Books

I love to read. I wouldn't say I'm a voracious reader. I'm not consuming a book a day or anything like that, but I do love a good book, particularly a good fiction book when my evening is blank and I have time to curl up in my recliner and read for hours. It's been that way since I was a kid. I remember being on the school bus in elementary school, so engrossed in a book that sometimes I wouldn't hear someone repeatedly calling my name. The bookshelves in my bedroom as a kid were filled with just that - books upon books (and model horses). 

I will confess as an adult, though, I have been less and less inclined to buy my books these days, but rather prefer to simply check them out from the local library. If I think it's good enough to read it again, then I'll buy a copy. If you were to browse my shelves now, you would know that what fills them is generally the cream of the crop of my personal collection (there are a few stragglers, though, I should probably part with). I started winnowing the collection in recent years, mainly because I got tired of boxing them up and moving them from apartment to apartment. So what remains are either a) autographed copies, b) books I've read more than twice, c) theological reference books, or d) books given to me as a gift with an inscription on the inside. Everything else has made its way out the door. 

So what are some of my all-time favorite books? I share the following in no particular order:

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. This book is without question in the top three of my favorite books, regardless of genre. A professor of mine first introduced me to it in college, maybe grad school. It's profoundly powerful and thoughtful. I can't tell you how many times I've read it. And the marked up pages prove it.

The Martian by Andy Weir. Quite possibly one of the funniest books I've ever read. The movie was far more dramatic, so if you've seen the movie, Weir's sense of humor didn't entirely translate. Laugh out loud hysterical. I definitely pick the book over the movie in this instance.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy by JRR Tolkien. This is old news if you've been around this blog, but I love these books. I read them for the first time in grad school and I was incredibly sad when I reached the end of them, I just wanted them to go on forever. Tolkien is a masterful storyteller. 

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell. I remember my first grade teacher reading this book to our class and I absolutely loved it. I'm not even sure why, but I was mesmerized by it as a child. 

The Beast in the Jungle by Henry James. This is a fictional short story, written in 1903. It is all sorts of tragic and sad, but for whatever reason, I find it captivating. I first discovered it in a college American lit class. The language is a bit antiquated and it can be a lot to slog through - there's still some passages where I have no idea what he's saying. But man, such a beautifully heartbreaking story. I re-read it every few years. 

True Devotion by Dee Henderson. This was probably the first book I ever read by Dee. A sappy dramatic romance novel. I love it. I can't tell you the number of times I've read it. We could also add Pretense and A Place Called Home, both by Lori Wick. Again, mindless sappy romance I've read over and over again. 

Knowledge of the Holy by AW Tozer. This one is probably my favorite theology book. I first read it in the summer of 2007 when I was living in North Carolina. I couldn't get enough of it. I felt like my head and my heart were exploding every time I finished chapter. It landed in a season of life where I was learning so much about the character of God, and then this book came along and gave words to everything I had been learning and experiencing.  

The Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp. This is a Christmas devotional, but I read it nearly every Advent and have done so for years. Ann has a very lyrical style of writing that I think is stunning.  

Secretariat by William 'Bill' Nack. It's hard to take a true story, filled with a lot of history and context, and make it read like fiction. Bill Nack pulls it off. Effortless storytelling. 

Any books you would recommend or qualify as your own all-time favorite? Offer 'em up!

Day 15: What Hollows the Mind

We all go a little crazy when someone takes too long to respond to a text, email or phone call, don't we? Or is that just me? We send a message and we have an unspoken expectation about how long it should take someone to respond, and when they don't, our minds start filling in the blanks. Did I offend them? Are they ignoring me? Why aren't they responding? Did they not get the text? Should I follow-up? Or if you're like my mom, you're wondering if your daughter is dead on the side of the road and you should start planning her funeral. (PS: I love you, Mom, and I know it's because you care.) Our insecurities rise with each passing moment and our minds scramble to fill the unknown with the known, making assumptions about why this person is not responding.

My very wise friend, Tim, once told me, "Assumptions are the lowest form of intelligence." 

Don't we do the same with God? When we believe God is a long time in coming - longer than we expected or hoped - in answering our prayers or bringing to pass something specific in our lives, we take matters into our own hands. As humans we do not dwell well in ambiguity and uncertainty, and so we take steps to give definition and shape to that ambiguity, to turn it into something we can touch and feel and know. The unknown is scary, the known is safe. While waiting for the truth to reveal itself, for the facts to be made known as to why the delay, the insecurities, questions, and doubt take root. We begin to second-guess the very nature and character of God. Wait, maybe he can't be trusted like I thought. Maybe his word can't be trusted. Maybe his ways can't be trusted, we think to ourselves. 

The ancient Israelites had the act of making assumptions down to an art form, quite literally giving shape their assumptions. Exodus 32 tells the tale of the golden calf, when the Israelites fashion an idol and bow down to worship it. But prior to that, their leader, Moses, had ascended Mount Sinai to meet with God, and it was there on the mountain that God would deliver the Ten Commandments. For forty days and forty nights, Moses met with God and for all those days and nights, "the cloud covered it, and the glory of the LORD settled on Mount Sinai...To the Israelites the glory of the LORD looked like a consuming fire on top of the mountain" (Exodus 24:15, 16a, 17). 

But down at the foot of the mountain? Assumptions were flooding the minds of the people. Take note of what the opening of chapter 32 conveys:

When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered Aaron and said, 'Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don't know what has happened to him (Exodus 32:1).

As for this fellow Moses, we don't know what's happened to him.

Ambiguity. 

Uncertainty.

Doubt.

Assumptions.

So, what do the people do? They start filling in the blank. Well, we can't see this Moses fellow, so let's make something we can see. We can't see this God he proclaims or really see how he's working, so let's make a god we can hold in our hands. Let's make the unknown, known. So, they give up all their gold earrings, and Moses' brother, Aaron, fashions a golden calf, to which the people offer sacrifices to, indulging in revelry and general shenanigans to boot.

In the new Amazon TV series (which is amazing, by the way), The Rings of Power, Galadriel, one of the main characters, said in the wake of an unexpected turn from the enemy, when all the people were scattered and they weren't sure who was dead or alive, "What cannot be known hollows the mind. Fill it not with guesswork."  

What cannot be known hollows the mind. 

Fill it not with guesswork.

When we start making assumptions about God's or other people's motives, behaviors, or reasonings, which is to say the "unknown," it hollows our minds. And filling it with guesswork doesn't help. It starts to carve out spaces in our brain filled with doubt, fear, worry, and unbelief.  

Ultimately, hollowed minds lead to hollowed hearts.

"Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done" (Romans 1:28).

To avoid hollowed minds, we have to fill them with truth, with what is known, chiefly "the knowledge of God," as Paul wrote in Romans. Minds filled with the weight of who he is are far less likely to be hollowed out, to be filled with guesswork. A.W. Tozer said in his masterful work, Knowledge of the Holy, "The man who comes to a right belief about God is relieved of ten thousand temporal problems at once..." 

To come to a right belief about God - a belief free of assumptions and guesswork - is to come to a mind that is full rather than hollow, and a heart that is likewise. 

But how do we discover what is known about God, to come to a right belief about him? 

Look to his Word and no other source.

Look to his Word, "like gold refined seven times" (Psalm 12:6), gold far superior to that of the golden calf.

While the Israelites danced and sang around the golden calf, they did so with hollow minds. Little did they know, God had come to fill their hollowed minds - and their hollowed hearts. 

"This is the covenant I will establish with the people of Israel after that time, declares the Lord. I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people" (Hebrews 8:10). 

Hollowed minds hollow no more, filled with the truth of God rather than guesswork.

Day 14: January Detox

I told a friend last week that from the outside looking in, people are probably thinking I've outlawed fun for the month. I'm doing Whole30, which means I've cut out a vast majority of foods, living on mainly fruits, veggies and meat. Goodbye donuts, cake, brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and pretty much anything else I love that contains sugar. I'm spending most of my free time writing or working on various home remodeling projects. Goodbye lounging around. And I also decided to cut out all movies and TV for the month. Goodbye being a couch potato and mindlessly watching movies.

Welcome to Courtney's house of fun! 🎉

But why?

Fair question. 

For starters, doing Whole30 at the beginning of the year has become an annual tradition (although I usually do closer to Whole45 or Whole60). I started it in 2019 and saw such dramatic results that I was sold, hook, line and sinker. I usually do a modified form of it at various times throughout the year, but January/February is my all-in version. I get amazing sleep. I have more energy. My skin looks bright. I feel less stressed. It's.so.worth.it. So, yes, I'm willing to give up donuts for nearly two months in exchange for better sleep and all of these other amazing benefits. It's just a good way to start the year fresh. 

Second, we've already discussed the writing situation. I got lazy. I needed a dose of discipline. Hence, the daily writing.

Lastly, the no-movies situation. Toward the end of last year I felt like I was just spending a lot of time mindlessly watching TV and feeling very unmotivated to do anything else. Yes, fall is a busy time for me for work, and it's easy to mentally check out in the evenings when I'm done, but I felt like my time on the couch was getting excessive. I would sit and watch a few hours of a TV show in one sitting (hello, Sweet Magnolias on Netflix) and then just feel gross, like I was wasting my life and being the world's most unproductive citizen. I did a similar form of a media detox once in grad school, only a little more extreme. I cut out all movies, TV, radio, music, and social media (which I had at the time) for three months. IT WAS AMAZING. I read over 30 books that summer, and that was when I read Lord of the Rings for the first time.

Robyn Davidson, the woman who trekked across the Australian desert with her four camels and a dog in 1977, once said, "I believe when you’re stuck in one spot for too long it’s best to throw a grenade where you stand, and jump…and pray."

It's probably been time to throw a grenade for awhile (although it's probably more of a smoke bomb in this instance). I have been feeling stuck in so many areas of life, bored and restless. I have been apathetic, procrastinating on projects I have had on my to-do list for months. I wasn't depressed (I've been that before and this wasn't it), but I had just gotten so complacent.  

Something had to give. 

I think removing the option of watching movies and TV has freed me up to do all this writing. I'm spending my evenings sorting out my thoughts, trying to get them into a coherent framework in order to write instead of just popping on the TV and trying not to think at all. And knowing that I'm eating well and taking care of my body just adds to the snowball. I haven't felt this productive or energized in awhile, and it has been so refreshing in a way that I didn't know I needed.

Who knows what February through December will look like, but January is no doubt a happening time. At least as much of a 'happening time' one can have without donuts or a good movie. 

So, go ahead, throw that grenade.

Day 13: Regrets

Regret is a funny thing. There is no shortage of perspectives on how to deal with it. Some people adopt a no regrets! policy. You live and learn, so don't dwell on what you didn't get right but instead just take the lesson on the chin and move on. Others drown in their regrets, consumed by them, unable to relinquish the vice grip hold they have on all that they didn't get right. 

I'm probably a mix of both of these extremes at times, and only with age and wisdom am I learning to land somewhere in the middle. On one hand, I'm getting better about simply letting go of whatever it is that I thought I got wrong. I'm getting better at just simply owning it. It happened. It's over. Carry on. On the other hand, it's very easy for me to wallow under the weight of self-condemnation, telling myself all the things I should have done differently or better, a lot of which can be chalked up to my perfectionistic tendencies. If I'm not careful, I can dwell in that space for a very long time.  

If only...

I regret not buying a Russian fur hat when I lived in Russia one summer of college. I tried one on at the market in Moscow and then talked myself out of it. Too expensive, I told myself. 

I regret not taking a single photograph with my friend Jonathan while he was alive. This regret is actually a profound one for me. I have pictures of him, but not with him. After he died, I realized this, and it has bothered me ever since. I also regret the moment I decided not to go visit him in the hospital. A winter storm had rolled in, the roads were a mess, I was a mess. I should have gone.

I regret writing a letter to this boy I was crazy about in college. Gah, do I ever regret that letter. I wish it had spontaneously combusted in the mailman's bag. What I would give to take that letter back. It wasn't anything crazy or over the top. I just should have left well enough alone. But I didn't. It was the beginning of the end for that relationship. 

I regret putting so much pressure on myself to perform and be perfect when I showed horses. Perfection never came and it haunted me for years. That self-imposed pressure robbed me of just simply enjoying the thing I loved more than anything else at that time.

(I may regret the carpet I'm currently having installed in my house. Should I have chosen a different color? Should I have picked a different company to install it? Shopped around more? Gotten more quotes? Did I get a good enough deal? What if I hate it? WHAT IF I CHOSE WRONG? #OhTheAngst #FirstWorldProblem)

The list could go on. And it's not confined to just seemingly inconsequential choices, but also over sin and rebellion and words spoken in anger and pride. I'm sure you could draft your own list of both big and small life choices, whether done in sin or not (or maybe you're one of those people who abides by the no regrets! policy?). 

But here's what I'm learning: 

Maybe we need to allow our regrets to shape us rather than hollow us. 

Teach us rather than scar us. 

Soften the edges of who we are rather than leave us jagged. 

Compel us rather than condemn us. 

Move us rather than paralyze us. 

Because ultimately?

I think regret is just grief masquerading.

Regret is grief wrapped in sorrow and sadness and a thousand if only's. And it's grief that we ultimately have to wrestle down, not merely regret. 

Consider the quote from which I pulled the name of my blog:

"There's a trick to the graceful exit. It begins with the vision to recognize when a job, a life stage, a relationship is over — and to let go. It means leaving what's over without denying its validity or its past importance in our lives. It involves a sense of future, a belief that every exit line is an entry, that we are moving on, rather than out. It's hard to learn that we don't leave the best parts of ourselves behind, back in the dugout or the office. We own what we learned back there. The experiences and the growth are grafted onto our lives. And when we exit, we can take ourselves along — quite gracefully."   

Somehow we have to let go of whatever it is that happened, but not so much so that we deny its validity or its past importance in our lives.

I can't go back to that moment in Russia and buy that hat. But my cousin did get one for me as a gift one year for Christmas, knowing I had this lingering regret. 

I can't go back and take a photo with Jonathan. He's gone and there's nothing I can do about that. But is a photo the only way I can remember my friend? No. I talk about him with his parents and I remember him. I listen to songs by the Civil Wars and I remember him. I drive by a Jeni's Ice Cream or a Jason's Deli and I remember him. A photograph - or the lack thereof - didn't define our friendship. It didn't then. It won't now. 

I can't go back and unwrite that letter I wrote to The Boy. It's spilled milk. The good Lord saw fit that it still be delivered, despite my foolishness, so I am going to have to trust in his sovereignty. The Boy has since moved on and gotten married. We've both moved on with life. I have learned to be more judicious in my letter writing efforts, especially to boys.   

I can't go back and relive my horse show career. But those years profoundly shaped me, sharpened me, made me. Yes, I could have done things differently, but the end result of those years was a perfectionist who has been a little more tempered by prolonged failure.

So, allow your regrets to shape you, not hollow you. Teach you, not scar you. Soften you, not harden you. And grieve. Grieve whatever was lost or whatever it is you think you lost. And then take yourself along - quite gracefully.

-------

This recent article by Melissa Urban - co-founder of Whole30 - was also a tremendous help to me. "You could not have done anything different. You could not have done anything better. Do you know how I know that this is true? Because you didn’t."

Day 12: For the Love of Libraries

I am convinced heaven has a spectacular library. How could it not? With God being a God of words and stories and parables, how is that we would get to heaven and find that all of those things have ceased? He's the author of the Book of Life, for crying out loud. And what is it that John says? "Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written" (John 21:25). Yes, I do believe heaven will have books and I do believe we will spend our days reading and re-reading the stories of old and the stories of our lives and the infinite ways that God showed himself all-powerful and all-knowing across the arc of humanity.

But in the meantime, I have earthly libraries.

If I were to discover that you were not a card-carrying member of your local library, I would probably give you a solid raise of the eyebrow. I have a t-shirt that says "I know my library card number by heart." And I do know my library card number by heart. Two, in fact, as I regularly use two library systems. I don't have my credit card number memorized, but I do have my library card numbers memorized.

Libraries to me are essential institutions in the fabric of society. A place where knowledge is shared freely without restriction or limitation. A place where the young and old gather, regardless of race, gender, ability, social standing or level of income. A place where you discover new places, new ideas, new authors, new stories, new music. A friend of mine grew in Lebanon in the Middle East and we were recently talking about books. He isn't much of a bookworm and he said he grew up in a place where they didn't have libraries, so he naturally didn't have access to books with any sort of ease or regularity. I was reminded in that split-second what a gift it is that I have access to such a wonder. Could we find new places, new ideas, and new stories on the internet? Sure. But to walk into a library, to see shelves overflowing with stories begging to be read, to hold these treasures in our hands? It's brought me to tears a time or two.

I remember when I was in college, the local library in town was being remodeled and was in a temporary building for awhile. When they reopened the new space, I remember walking up the stairs to the second floor, turning the corner, and my eyes immediately got misty. It was so beautiful. When I went out to Jackson Hole on one of my first trips, I stopped by the library out there. Tears there, too. Just the way it was designed and how they incorporated cut trees into the layout. I loved it. I love the library in the Biltmore mansion in Asheville, NC. And the library on Ohio State University's campus. And the library in downtown Columbus. I will forever love the scene in the original Disney animated version of Beauty and the Beast when the Beast shows Belle the castle's library, throwing open the doors on the nearly cavernous library. I know what her wonder feels like.

Libraries are the keepers of the history of the world, of our lives, of our days. Who will hold the weight of all that we are as humanity, if not them? 

Do yourself a favor and get yourself a library card, if you haven't already done so. 

Don't make me raise my eyebrow at you. 

Nearly $1,000 saved last year by using my library card!

Day 11: Prayers for a Future Husband

I am 38 and single. 

That is a statement of fact, not of lament. 

As Jason Illian says in his book Undressed, "Being single is not a disease and marriage certainly isn't the cure." I have never believed my singleness to be a disease or a deficit, something to grieve. I have relished it. I have celebrated it. I have taken it to be the gift that it is. I have some friends who have been profoundly bitter about being single, and I do not doubt that for some, singleness has been a source of deep pain. I do not want to diminish the weight of their response. Singleness looks different for everyone. But in the same breath, I have often been utterly bewildered in the face of such bitterness because I cannot relate to it or identify with it. Yes, there have been moments or days when I have been lonely or wished there was a mate by my side, but those moments or days have never lingered long or taken root. This is by God's grace alone. 

I want my single years, however long they may last, to matter. I don't want to be in the business of squandering them. I made a deliberate and conscious decision a long time ago that I would not sit on the sidelines of life while waiting for a husband. Because who is to say that one will ever come along? God has never made such a promise to me. I hold my singleness with open hands. If God should ordain that I go to my grave without a ring on my finger or a different last name, so be it. But if he should ordain that there be a partner along the way, then so be it. I will welcome and celebrate either state. 

Because here's what I ultimately know to be true and what I keep my gaze fixed upon: 

I'll be okay if I never have a husband, but I won't be okay if I don't have Jesus.   

That's not a trade I'm willing to make, to say that I so desperately want to be married that I'll give up my faith. That's an exchange that leads to a certain kind of death. If singleness is what gets me more of Jesus, then that is what I will embrace, but if marriage is what gets me more of Jesus, then I will embrace that equally so. But I won't give Jesus up in order to gain a lesser man.

Even in these days of singleness, however, you better believe I am praying for the man who may be on the other side of these days. Specifically, I pray for three things:

• I pray he is a man of God's Word. This is my chief prayer. I want him to love the Bible. He doesn't need to be a scholar or a theologian. He doesn't need to have memorized the entire book of Colossians or James or Ephesians, but I want him to be a man in love with the Word of God, someone who is familiar with it, well-acquainted with its pages. Early in a dating relationship once, I asked the guy how often he read the Bible and he said maybe once a week. I was so disheartened by this. Look, I'm not saying I'm sitting over here spending hours every day reading my Bible, getting everything perfect in my own pursuit of the Word. But I want to know that the man I'm with is actively moving toward the Word with regularity and intentionality, choosing to wrap his life in its pages.

• I pray he is a man of his word. I want him to be the kind of man who keeps his promises. I want him to be the kind of man who shows up when he says he's going to show up, the kind of man who honors his commitments, whether big or small, come hell or high water. Again, I'm not seeking perfection, but I want someone who is faithful to his promises. 

• I pray he is a man of words. Allow me to state the obvious: I love words. They matter a great deal to me. They are the air I breathe. Words are in my very nature. I have kept journals for the last 26 years. I've had this blog for nearly 15 years. And I haven't been penning all these words because I thought somebody would read them or because I was trying to build a brand or a platform or make a name for myself. I did - and do - these things because I don't have a choice, because I might explode if my thoughts aren't penned. Rainer Maria Rilke's words resonate with me, "This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple 'I must,' then build your life in accordance with this necessity..." And books? How many thousands of books have I probably read in my lifetime? I devoured them, even as a child, and still aim to as an adult. Writing and reading represent some of the deepest parts of my identity. I pray the man I marry would at the very least have an appreciation for words. He doesn't need to be a bookworm or a bibliophile or the world's greatest writer of love letters, although I would certainly relish it if he were. 

Some women pray for a man who is a tall drink of water.

Me? 

Just give me a man who is a tall drink of words. 

Yes, and amen.

_______________

If you want to read some additional pieces that echo my sentiments on singleness and dating, see also Grace Thornton's blog post "I Don't Wait Anymore" and her book by the same title. Every time I read that article - and it has been often over the years - I just want to yell "Preach it, girl!" And Jen Wilkin wrote a piece back in 2014 that realllllyy makes me want to get on a soapbox alongside her and preach some more.

Day 10: Recent Tunes

I do not consider myself to be someone who has a very eclectic taste in music. I tend to regularly hover somewhere around the country/Christian/Top 40 genres and may on occasion stumble onto something else, but usually accidentally.  The most played song in my iTunes is "Confident" by Steffany Gretzinger, probably because I listened to it obsessively through a pretty rough patch of life. Songs ranking second, third, fifth and sixth in line all come from the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe film score by Harry Gregson-Williams. It really is a fabulous score and worth a listen. (And if you're someone like me who naturally gravitates toward melancholy or sad music such as the Narnia film score, give Susan Cain's book Bittersweet a read. You will understand yourself better and you'll find out you're not as odd - or depressed - as you think.)

My latest mix of music hasn't strayed far from my usual tastes, so if you're looking for some new tunes or new-to-you tunes, check out what I've been listening to lately:

• "My Worth is Not in What I Own" by Keith and Kristyn Getty, featuring Darren Mulligan. A friend shared it with me in her Christmas newsletter and it's been on repeat some days.

• Film score from Persuasion by Stuart Earl. Netflix released a new version of the Jane Austen book Persuasion and it is delightful. I immediately noticed the score. It lasts all of 12 minutes, which is the only downside to it. It's too be beautiful to be so short.

• "In Reverence" by David Tolk. This shows up regularly on my Pandora station and it's a fave. And the fact that the album cover is of the Tetons might help. A perfectly sad, melancholy song that I enjoy so much.

• Pretty much anything by Mitchell Tenpenny. This guy has got some great stuff. See also "Truth About You" and "We Got History."

• Adam Doleac. He's up there with Mitchell. See also "Another" or "Coulda Loved You Longer."

• Jordan Davis. I LOVE HIS MUSIC. There are very few songs on any of his albums that I skip over, which is mark of a great album in my opinion. His next album comes out on February 17 and I am thoroughly looking forward to getting my hands on it. See also "Leaving New Orleans," "Detours," "Midnight Crisis," "Next Thing You Know," and "What My World Spins Around." And pretty much anything else he's got.

• "Whakaaria Mai (How Great Thou Art)" by Teeks and Hollie Smith. This is a lovely, lovely, lovely rendition of "How Great Thou Art." I discovered it while watching a documentary on Netflix.

• John Mark Pantana. Where the heck has this guy been hiding? I was at a church event and this guy's songs kept playing in the background. Very mellow, Jack Johnson vibe and I was immediately hooked. See also "Rooftop" and pretty much anything else of his.

Any recommendations of your own? Send 'em my way!

Day 9: What I Love Most About God

When I woke up this morning, I had a lot of things on my mind. My work schedule. Plans for the week. Tasks to get done around the house. Wondering if my outline submission for a separate writing project was any good (I knew it wasn't). Borrowed fears about things that may never come to pass. So many thoughts criss-crossed the labyrinth of my brain, firing one after another.

But do you know what thought didn't cross my mind this morning - or any other moment of the day?

I didn't wake up wondering if God was in a good mood today.

I didn't wake up wondering if today would finally be the day that God would wash his hands of me, fed up with my faltering, small faith, fed up with my lukewarm affection for his word and his presence. 

It's what I love most about him.

If someone were to ask you what you love most about God, what would you say?

It is this unchangingness, this immutability, that endears him most to me.

Because I know what I fickle soul I am. I know I am everything he is not. I know my own moods and my own ability to waver and waffle in my receptivity toward others. Yet God is not like that, never has been, never will be. He is not like me, like us. As Beth Moore once said, "Those who adore you can just as quickly abhor you." God's affections for me do not fluctuate so.

And that is a comfort to me. Because can you imagine if God changed? Can you imagine if he was moody, swinging from highs to lows, like some sort of manic? What chaos. I would never be able to trust a God who changed because how would I ever know when I was on his 'good side' or not? It would be a state of perpetual fear, never at ease, always on edge.  A.W. Tozer said in his book Knowledge of the Holy, one of my favorite pieces of literature I've ever read, 

In this world where men forget us, change their attitude toward us as their private interests dictate, and revise their opinion of us for the slightest cause, is it not a source of wondrous strength to know that the God with whom we have to do changes not? That His attitude toward us now is the same as it was in eternity past and will be in eternity to come?

Indeed, it is a wondrous strength, one I need to draw upon every day. Does the fact that he never changes mean I can do as I please, knowing that no matter what sins I commit, he will still love me? As the apostle Paul says in Romans 6:1-2, "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?" 

By no means do I take advantage of this immutability of God and his grace! It is the source of my peace, but it is not to be abused, to be taken for granted (oh, but how often I do!) to be leveraged for my own selfish gain. Tozer goes on to say, 

What peace it brings to the Christian's heart to realize that our Heavenly Father never differs from Himself. In coming to Him at any time we need not wonder whether we shall find Him in a receptive mood. He is always receptive to misery and need, as well as to love and faith. He does not keep office hours not set aside periods when he will see no one. Neither does he change His mind about anything. Today, this moment, He feels toward His creatures, toward babies, toward the sick, the fallen, the sinful, exactly as He did when He sent His only-begotten Son into the world to die for mankind.

Great is his faithfulness, for there is no shadow of turning with him. That truth will ring true when I wake up tomorrow morning, and the morning after that, and every moment from here through all eternity.

"Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not / As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be."

Day 8: Wyoming 2022 - Greatest Hits

It's no secret how much I love Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I won't bother elaborating on that because you can read about my previous adventures elsewhere. I made the trek out there this past September for the fifth time and it's still as stunning as ever. This trip was a much slower pace and I had less of an itinerary planned. It was just my mom and me, so we were able to wander to and fro to places we had been to before and some we hadn't. So, without further ado, I present to you Wyoming 2022: The Greatest Hits:

• I didn't get mistaken for a boy on this trip! Unlike two out of the four previous trips. This feels like a victory. 

• I discovered the joys of a heated steering wheel. What wizardry is this?! We rented a Chrysler Pacifica, which didn't really jive with the whole rugged mountain terrain vibe I had hoped for, but when you have a heated steering wheel? Who cares! Soccer mom minivan it is!

• We went to Mammoth Hot Springs one day while up in Yellowstone. It felt like a ghost town, which was amazing. Normally I'm not a fan of the place because it always feels like such a cluster, but due to the historic flooding that had occurred earlier in the summer and damaged so much infrastructure,  a lot of lodging and restaurants were closed. 

• On my second trip out to Wyoming with my friend Kristen in 2016, she introduced me to some friends of hers, Donnie and Pat. They quickly became my friends. And then when I was out there again in 2019 with my mom and a family friend, we ran into Donnie and Pat by happenstance, out of the blue while waiting in line at a restaurant up in Mammoth. This time around, we intentionally reached out to them and made plans. Funny, delightful, lovely people.

• We tried to see a few things we hadn't before, one of which was Cody. We were staying in West Yellowstone so we drove allllll the way over to Cody one day, on the opposite side of the park, and poked around there for the day. Driving through Sylvan Pass is a bit of a white-knuckler for me, but we made it.

• After we spent a few days in Yellowstone, we headed south for Jackson. While on the way, we spotted a bald eagle and some other kind of bird duking it out in the skies above. They kept following the same river we were driving along, so we were able to just keep going and watch them as we drove. 

• We stopped at Colter Bay on the northern side of Grand Teton National Park and our eyes nearly popped out of our heads. We couldn't believe what we were seeing. The marina, normally filled with docked boats was completely empty - boats, water and all. It was shocking to witness. 

• We stayed in downtown Jackson, which was a first. Normally we stay out in the Wilson area, but AirBnB prices were getting ridiculous, so we opted for a hotel near the Town Square. So convenient. Loved it.

• Two rainbows marked our trip, one while out in the Buffalo Valley near Turpin Meadow Ranch and another directly at the base of the Tetons. 

• We, of course, milled around town and walked through art galleries, especially since it was the annual Fall Arts Festival. One thing that was a major bummer for us on this trip was that they did not host the Showcase of Homes. We LOVED this when we went in 2019 and had so hoped we could do it again. Alas, it was not to be. 

I don't know that I'll make it back to Wyoming in 2023, as I've got my sights set on somewhere new. We'll see if it captures my heart and imagination like Jackson Hole has, but this new place has a lot to live up to. Time will tell!

This was one of the many terrible selfies I took in 2015. This is also Colter Bay then...

...and Colter Bay in September 2022. I'm standing in almost the exact same spot. 
Now you know why our eyes nearly popped out of our heads.

I mean, c'mon.

While taking the Moose-Wilson Road, we joined the crowds to watch these two for a bit.

Rainbow #1 while driving along Highway 191, just north of Jackson.

Rainbow #2, sunset, driving back from Turpin Meadow Ranch, down along the Buffalo Fork

This was in the opposite direction of the rainbow.
No matter which way we turned, the view was incredible.

What is Yellowstone without bison?

And, of course, a jumping photo.

Day 7: Not Just Good vs. Bad

We were both sitting on the floor, me in tears, him in stunned silence. He never saw the end coming, and I saw no way around it. 

We dated last summer. I'll call him Jake for the sake of this one-sided conversation. Jake was a breath of fresh air and blew through my life like a cool summer breeze. He was the first man in my life ever to ask me out point blank after having just met me. I was stunned. It was disarming, almost disorienting, his boldness. On our first date, he unknowingly picked one of my favorite places to eat, showed up twenty minutes early, and he asked good questions. He was racking up points left and right. I was still feeling bewildered about the fact that a man had looked my way or even knew I existed. It had been a bit of a dating drought prior to him, so I was suffering from the whiplash of his sudden and eager presence in my life. 

We had some hurdles to cross - well, really, I had some hurdles to cross related to his past - but we had some good, long hard conversations about all of that before we decided to move forward with dating. 

Dating him was great. It was easy. It was effortless. It was fun. It was exciting. It was all the things that come with the start of a new relationship. 

And he treated me like gold. I have no doubt that man would have walked through fire for me, even after the short time we knew each other. We often joked, though, how he was a freight train hurtling a hundred miles an hour down the tracks while I was still sitting back at the station with my feet propped up, wondering which way to go. He said I checked every box on his list of things he wanted in a wife, and he was convinced I was everything he had ever prayed for in a woman, while I wasn't convinced of anything. All I knew was that I was willing to give this thing a shot and trust that God would make the way clear. But I was holding loosely to all of it. I desperately prayed for wisdom in those days and weeks surrounding that time (and still do regularly). I had latched onto Proverbs 2:11 just prior to Jake's appearance in my life, and it's a verse that carried me through, "Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you." I deeply desired to have both discretion and understanding, to be able to discern the when's and how's and what's of this relationship and to do it in accordance with God's will. 

So, we dated. Until we didn't.

Probably not even a full fourteen days into dating, I suddenly felt like I hit a brick wall emotionally. Overwhelming doubt and hesitation rose up within me. I couldn't shake the lack of peace that had taken over. I couldn't define it. I couldn't put my finger on it. There were no red flags about his character, his past, his present, nothing. So much about us seemed to line up. But there was still something making me pause, something undeniable. I began to wonder if I was crazy, asking God if this was just the swirling of my emotions or if this was something from the Holy Spirit, a certain kind of restraining that was beginning to hold me back from confidently moving forward. I got to the point where I knew I couldn't allow the relationship to continue, not in good conscience anyway. Yes, it would have been easy to just play along. The boy was so over the moon about me, so why not just ride this wave and enjoy it and take advantage of the feelings he had for me? For one, I'm not that kind of person, and two, I knew that he was in so deep emotionally, even this early on, that there's no way I could have allowed his emotions to grow even more for me. It wouldn't have been fair - or right. 

I thought long and hard, still desperately praying for that discernment, still wondering if I was crazy. Here was a perfectly good man who loved Jesus and was crazy about me. Why can't you just.make.this.work, Courtney? But it didn't matter from what I angle I came from, I was getting a very clear, albeit unexplainable, impression from the Holy Spirit that this relationship had to end.

So, I broke the boy's heart and ended things.   

"Why, Courtney?" he pled with me, tears in his eyes.

With tears in my own eyes, I told him I didn't have an answer to that question, at least not one that was going to make him feel better or make that moment less painful.

But I also told him that I didn't need to know why in order to be obedient to God. I didn't need this tangible, black-and-white, reasonable and rational list of explanations from God about why this relationship should or should not continue in order for me to still follow him. The Holy Spirit was revealing to me that we were not to continue dating - that was reason enough for me. I didn't need any further evidence. I've been in this thing with Jesus for too long and I've followed him down too many roads that didn't make sense before. This wasn't the first time God had asked me to do something that didn't humanly add up. I'm sure it won't be the last, and I'm not about to start demanding he make sense to me now in order for me to continue to be faithful.

In the wake of the break-up, I kept coming back to one central lesson:

Discernment is not merely distinguishing between good and bad, right versus wrong, truth versus error. Sometimes discernment is also about distinguishing between what is good and what is right, what is good and what is best.

Sometimes what is good and what is best is separated only by a hair's breadth, but that hair's breadth still matters. As I kept praying for wisdom in the wake of the break-up, I was led to 1 Chronicles 17. David is now on the throne, Saul long since dead. David is standing in the palace one night and he says to Nathan the prophet, “Here I am, living in a house of cedar, while the ark of the covenant of the Lord is under a tent” (verse 1). David desires to build a temple for God and Nathan tells him to do as he wishes, for God is with him. 

But then that night, the word of God comes to Nathan, telling him to tell David that it's not for David to build God a temple. That dream will be for his son, Solomon, but not for David. 

The day eventually comes when Solomon does, in fact, build the temple, placing the ark of the covenant in it. At the dedication of the temple in 1 Kings 8, he says the following, looking back on his father's life:

My father David had it in his heart to build a temple for the Name of the Lord, the God of Israel. But the Lord said to my father David, ‘You did well to have it in your heart to build a temple for my Name. Nevertheless, you are not the one to build the temple, but your son, your own flesh and blood—he is the one who will build the temple for my Name.’

You did well, David, to have it in your heart this desire to build God a temple. 

Nevertheless, you're not the one. 

David's desire was good. But it wasn't right, it ultimately wasn't what God had in store, even though it made perfect sense to David, even though there was nothing saying otherwise that he shouldn't do it.

A hair's breadth between what is good and what is right.

Jake, you do well to desire marriage. You have it in your heart to pour out all that love you have stored up in that golden heart of yours. That is a good thing. But for reasons known only to God, it is not the right thing that it is with me. Yes, you treated me like a queen. Yes, on paper, everything we had - or dreamed of having - made perfect sense. And if any of my friends came along and asked if they could date you, I'd give my blessing. You're a good man, and what we had was good. 

Nevertheless, it wasn't right, and I'm not the one.

I trust that God in his infinite wisdom knows the reasons why that hair's breadth between what was good and what was right existed in our relationship. 

And that's enough for me.