*This is part of the synchroblog on waiting, to celebrate the release of Those Who Wait: Finding God in Disappointment, Doubt and Delay by Tanya Marlow – out now. See more here and link up to the synchroblog here.*

I had another bad migraine on Friday. I’d felt it coming on and off, the weird way they do for me, on my way to pick up the boys I nanny from school, but some caffeine seemed to stave it off. The eleven year old had homework, but his parents had given us an hour to stop at the park on the way home, and I was as excited as the kids were at the prospect of fresh air and fun on a gorgeous fall day. I grabbed my sidewalk chalk from the car and we drew for a while, then the boys did parkour on the playground equipment while I cheered them on. And then we played tickle monster, which of course was me. This required a lot of running.

It was probably the running around that made the migraine worse again. It got bad when we were back at their house, making the game of Twister I played with the seven year old while his brother did homework more challenging, especially since we play with heads and knees as well as feet and hands.

“Head on blue, Jessica!”

“Hahaha…owww…”

By the ride home my head was throbbing and waves of nausea were hitting me with every lurch of the car. I realized I’d left the chalk at the park, which was on the way home, so I pulled my car into the parking lot, grateful for the rest from the car movement. I got out of the car slowly, ever mindful of head rushes which lately have been migraine triggers for me, and walked back to the playground, where I saw that kids had made use of the chalk while I’d been gone. There were drawings in rainbow pastels all around the walkway that circled the playground, and I waited till one small girl was done with her picture before I gathered the chalk up. She spoke Arabic, I think, which I don’t except for hello and thank you, but we communicated in gestures, nodding and smiling.

The sun was setting, and the playground part of the park was at the bottom of a steep hill that leads up to one of the best views of Boston. My head hurt, but the fresh air felt good, and I decided to see if I could make it up partway at least, to see a little bit of the sunset. I used to be able to step out on either of my two porches for sunset views, but in my new house the views are more elusive.

It was hard going up the hill. I have a few chronic injuries that have been acting up lately, and the pain in my feet, and back, and shoulder has been making ordinary things more challenging. The hill was steep, but I took it slowly, heading toward a patch of light in the grass that I thought would mean a good view of the light’s source. I sat down there and leaned back on my hands, glad of the small elevation I’d attained. The sunset wasn’t spectacular, just a small patch of red and orange, but it was something at least. I didn’t feel the deep happiness or joy that sunsets often bring on, but I tried to be quietly appreciative, for the little bit of color, for the fresh air, for the break before I’d have to drive through a couple more miles of Boston traffic before I got home. I took deep breaths and took the sunset in as best I could.

There weren’t many people there, and when a man walked close by I became wary of sitting alone in the increasing dark. The sunset faded, and I stood up, carefully, checking for head rushes. I turned and looked up the hill, and realized that even though I was only about halfway up I’d already climbed the steepest part. It would be much easier to ascend the second half. Standing up had revealed that there were actually several more people around, including a group that was doing a photo shoot of a pregnant woman in a dramatic white dress.

I had only taken a few more steps when I turned around and saw the sunset was much broader and more multicolored than I’d been able to see from where I was seated. As I walked to the crest of the hill the light increased, and the full 360 degrees of sky became visible, glowing purple, red, orange, and blue in the west with a subtler reflection of those colors on the clouds in the east, with the silvery grey Boston skyline to the north. Many people were up there, as it turned out, snapping photos of each other and the sky. My isolation had been an illusion. I turned, slowly, taking it all in, still not fully happy or joyful, but glad for the chance to see a more impressive sunset, to breathe under a more spacious sky.

On the way home I discussed my health and finances with God. I’ve been discouraged lately at how expensive life is, and how much harder it is to work as much as I have to work with all the various health issues acting up. I offered God several suggestions for how to help with this: An large anonymous check in the mail, an unexpected job with a hefty salary, a cure for the foot problems, or back problems, or shoulder problems, or the migraines. I promised to do everything I could on my part if there was something on my part that God wanted me to do. Then, after I’d mentioned every other solution I could think of, I prayed for the one that God was giving me already: Give me the patience to keep doing the next thing, to put one foot in front of the other, and make one dollar at a time until the bills are paid. Give me the wisdom to keep going, to climb the hill just a little bit further, then rest, climb, then rest, till I get to a place where I can breathe under a more spacious sky.

***

Today is the official launch of Tanya Marlow’s new book! Tanya is one of my personal heroes. I met her when we were on the launch team of Sarah Bessey’s book Out of Sorts. Tanya is a writer and activist who has myalgic encephelomyelitis, commonly (and deceptively) know as chronic fatigue syndrome. Because of some setbacks and some bad treatment by doctors, Tanya is bedridden for much of the time, leaving the house only once every two weeks or so. Despite this she writes, does advocacy work for ME education and treatment in the United Kingdom, and takes photos of the sky from her bed, seeing God in the small changes of her rarely-changing view.

Her new book is about waiting. In Those Who Wait, Tanya Marlow takes four characters from the Bible and tells their story with imagination and compassion. The question she asks of those characters, and of her readers, is: What is it like to wait for God? For Tanya herself this is not a theoretical question. Neither she nor her doctors knows whether she will recover from this severe stage of ME. She does not, however, write either from a place of bitterness or of false hope; rather she faces her own questions honestly and creates space for her readers to be honest about theirs.

Those Who Wait carries us inside the lives of Sarah, Isaiah, John the Baptist, and Jesus’ mother, Mary, imagining how each of them coped with the long periods of waiting in their lives. The reflection questions at the end of the chapter invite us to ponder what we may have in common with these ancient God-seekers, and how their stories may speak to ours.

Tanya’s writing is evocative and vivid, and her pacing is gentle and patient, embodying the years, decades, and centuries that pass before God’s purpose in the lives of these four people. The book is a quick read, but it can also be used as a longer daily devotional, reading a chapter every day and writing, pondering, or praying through the questions.

You can order Those Who Wait on AmazonUS or Amazon UK, and I hope you do! (The US site is showing the release date as November 1st, but that should be fixed soon.) You can read more about Tanya at her website.

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Two other books I’m looking forward to reading:

Glory Happening by Kaitlin B. Curticle, coming on November 7th. From her website:

Here’s what people are saying about Glory Happening:

“Kaitlin B. Curtice is a young, Native American Christian mystic who portrays the sacredness of the human condition in everyday language through her writing. Her use of poetic prayers and stories in Glory Happening inspires us to find the divine in every aspect of life, and gifts us with the opportunity to embrace and mirror the gracious reality of God and glory in our midst.”

–Fr. Richard Rohr, Founder, Center for Action and Contemplation, Author, THE NAKED NOW and FALLING UPWARD

“Kaitlin B. Curtice writes with a deep, sweet, reflectiveness about the odd places she encounters ‘glory,’ that is, Jesus. This first book by an exciting young Christian mystic is a must-read. Kaitlin helps us look for Jesus again, and helps us meet him in some surprising places. Strongly recommended!”

–David P. Gushee, Distinguished University Professor of Christian Ethics, Vice President, the American Academy of Religion, Author, KINGDOM ETHICS

 

Shalom Sistas by Osheta Moore.

SH ·l m’ / sis ta: A woman who loves people, follows the Prince of Peace, and never gives up her sass. Shalom, the Hebrew word often translated as “peace,” was a far cry from blogger and podcaster Osheta Moore’s crazy life. Like a lot of women, she loved God’s dream for a world that is whole, vibrant, and flourishing. But honestly: who’s got the time? So one night she whispered a dangerous prayer: God, show me the things that make for peace. In Shalom Sistas, Moore shares what she learned when she challenged herself to study peace in the Bible for forty days. Taking readers through the twelve points of the Shalom Sistas’ Manifesto, Moore experiments with practices of everyday peacemaking and invites readers to do the same. From dropping “love bombs” on a family vacation, to talking to the coach who called her son the n-word, to spreading shalom with a Swiffer, Moore offers bold steps for crossing lines between black and white, suburban and urban, rich and poor. What if a bunch of Jesus-following women catch a vision of a vibrant, whole, flourishing world? What happens when Shalom Sistas unite?

You can order Shalom Sistas here.

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Speaking of books, ubooknerd won the giveaway last month! Ubooknerd, please email me your address so I can get you copies of Love Warrior and Hunger! tenthousandplacesblog@gmail.com