Farewell, Fare Well
Sharing my favorite things from 2022 with you, dear one. Folks to follow, books to read, processes that saved my soul and more. Let's do this!
I haven't tested this out before, this sharing of favorite things. Yet, it seems like a fun way to bid farewell to one year… to offer up what might support you as you fare well in the new one…
The parting word farewell, which is used as a way of saying goodbye, is based on the verb phrase fare well and literally means “May you fare well”—in other words, “I hope you do well” or “I hope things go well for you.” - Dictionary.com
(Side note - Before college-level French, I was excellent at spelling and grammar. Sometimes, I struggle now. Maybe you do too, and needed to know it is most definitely fare well and not fair well. I hope I saved you a search!)
Onto my favorite things…
My favorite conversations of this year have been with my three favorite people.
My husband, holding my face by candlelight as I told him I couldn't do it anymore (chronic disease) -and his compassionate stance that not only could I do it - but that I was actually doing it. Living with and in. I can’t tell you how badly I needed to hear this, as my strength was absolutely waning. The conversations I had with my son this year were equally as profound, but most interestingly the one I want to share is about how he noticed a music artist's penchant for profanity... "Why do they need it in their songs, mom?" Which birthed both my search for the clean version and a long talk about the various ways in which pain changes us - our hearts, especially. I love having a preteen. And I cannot believe he'll be a teenager in the New Year!
And finally, the very best conversation of the year was had with my daughter. It was sometime in mid-May when we wrapped our arms around one another and grieved the life she was losing to her mind. We spoke of autonomy and miracles and magic - most specifically, the kind of magic that comes in a bottle prescribed by a doctor well-versed in what a unicorn like her might need to thrive. To say that I am proud of her and her journey is an absolute understatement. Without a doubt, this wild child of mine had days of pure joy for the first time since her time at the breast. Which isn't one bit of an exaggeration or stretch.
Can I offer you one more thought on this?
Do not let the most sacred of moments pass you by; do not allow grief to rob your soul of all the beauty that still exists. I love these humans of mine so much. Their ability to grow me always far surpasses my expectations, dear ones.
All of my favorite books this year stretched my capacity to love well.
To love myself well, my children well, and the world well. Learning to Walk in The Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor just about catapulted me into a new relationship with content, friend. Why have we cast such a shadow on all that is dark? Why must everything be light? These are just a few of the questions she broached alongside an absolutely brilliant dialogue on where God is in the midst of it all. Barbara not only saved my faith, but brought me to a place of solid ground in the midst of my early burnout recovery.
In fiction, As Long As The Lemon Trees Grow by Zoulfa Katouh was by far my favorite read. In a whitewashed world, it is downright holy to hear about the very real experience plaguing Brown bodies in our world. I often remind my children of how grateful we must be to live in a country that is mostly-safe. We know it is mostly-safe as war rarely reaches the sacred soil beneath our feet. This isn't the case for Salama, the main character in Katouh's book. Salama is ravaged by war; yet, copes with it in the most horrific and beautiful ways - giving of herself, marking love, and honoring a mind almost-lost to madness. A layer of compassion drips from every page of her story, beloved. I hope you'll read it.
As for children's books, our favorites were Heidi (which you've probably heard of, and yes - it's as wonderful as everyone says!) and Sees Behind Trees. Sees Behind Trees was recommended in our homeschool curriculum - and truly, it was wonderful. Honoring of disability and honoring of Native experience, I'm not one bit surprised that this Michael Dorris book received the accolades of Best Book in multiple reviews when it was originally released in 1996. If I had not read this with my daughter, I would have read it on my own for me. It was that good.
Folks to follow.
This list is one that I tended to with deep reverence, my friends. If the people I followed on social media didn't point me back to the way Christ lived, his teachings on life and light and love, inclusion and togetherness, I checked out. It was the very best decision I could have made for myself and my work.
So, who am I still following and who have I begun to follow in 2022?
Br Frederick-James - personally as an aspiring contemplative for decades, Benedictine monk and podcaster Br Fredrick James points me to peace almost-daily. God in us. God with us. God and us. I’m thankful for this brilliant
Dr. Christy Bauman - while I have “known” Christy since 2020 and her beautiful words on bravery (her son Brave) and the art of lament, as well as her fantastic book Theology of the Womb, this therapist and podcaster continues to brighten my days with her heart for women. I’ll say it to the day I die, a country that does not support it’s mothers, women, nurturers, will not thrive. Period. It’s my hope that by amplifying the value and worth of this community alongside brilliant minds like Dr. Christy’s, we can together edge forward into what is possible for humanity.
Kat Armas - Kat is an author, mother, and Cuban American theologian. See notes above on amplifying value and worth. Insert here.
Elizabeth Berget - A writer focused on how mothers bear the image of God? Yes, please! Elizabeth is a super new find on Instagram. See notes above on amplifying value and worth. Insert here, too.
Sarah Billups - Last but not least, the author of Orphaned Believers (Jan '23) and an inspiring voice for the possibly-doubtful Christian, Sarah’s posts make me think. And they make me smile. Anyone who meets me in the tender space of I don’t know what I know anymore (aka The Mystery), is someone I find worthy of my energy and time right now.
A process (or two) that saved my soul in 2022.
Writing and painting made this year into something it wouldn't otherwise have been. I can't explain it, except also I can. The comparison trap rocked me in high school. (We had some pretty prolific artists in my class.) So, I stopped creating art. By the time I had my first child, I had stopped writing too.
In 2010, I picked writing back up. You may have seen some of it, by now. Which is truly, an act of Divine mercy and grace.
When the pandemic hit, I started painting again too.
Follow your instinct when it comes to what you do with your one precious life, dearest soul. It might just change everything.
New year, more healing.
Now that I’ve chattered on for a bit… Here are a few reflections you might consider pondering as you head into the New Year:
Who are your favorite people? What conversations lit up your soul this year?
What are your core values? Do they align with who you follow on social media? Do the newsletters you subscribe to? The podcasts? Whose voices lift you up and light your way? What would it be like to click unfollow on all the accounts that aren’t serving you? (PSA, you have permission to click unfollow today!) and,
What processes have saved you a time or two in 2022? Time in nature? Writing? Painting? The art of tea or singing Pink’s Never Gonna Not Dance Again in the carpool waiting line? (Remember, if you stop before your kids get in - you get bonus points and remain The Cool Parent.) What brought you joy?
Will you let me know? Let’s talk about it.
I’ll close here…
My prayer for you in 2023 is that you hold close the conversations, stories, people and processes that bring you life. Because you were made to fare well, if not in body (at times) then in soul.
I love you.
Merry Christmas to all who celebrate the 12 days.
And all the wishes for a very Happy New Year.
J. 🌻 @thebarefootpreacher
Feel free to share this message on Farewell, Fare Well. It might just resonate with someone else who’s walked or rolled through a similar season.
If today’s words have been some sort of shining light in dark spaces and places, please feel free to email me back. You can also click subscribe below for weekly emails - most of them just like this.