Begin Again: The Brave Practice of Releasing Hurt and Receiving Rest by Leeana Tankersley
Read: 4/7/18-4/24/18
Last week I started to tell how I found this book, and about my grief with my mother in the late stages of dementia.
I left off with listening to The Next Right Thing podcast, the episode Be a Beginner.
I'd just been told, by multiple people, that I didn't know how to do this, how to proceed, because I'd never done it before.
So this week, if you're in your own grief, anxiety, or transition, I invite you in with these words from the transcript:
"If you are newly engaged or newly pregnant or if you are a new step-parent or just moved into a new house, you are grateful for the new role that you have and maybe excited about the future. But there’s a lot you don’t yet know and there isn’t a handbook to teach you.
"Maybe you are newly single or just divorced. You could be a recent empty nester or newly widowed. To say these things are hard is a massive understatement, an insult to the reality of your current situation. On top of that, the truth is, you don’t know what you’re doing and there isn’t a handbook to teach you.
"All of these are new beginnings some joyful and some heartbreaking. But in all of these, you are a beginner. You have not been here before, with this particular set of circumstances, with these particular people, at this particular time in your one life.
"All beginnings hold elements of both joy and heartbreak. When we enter a new beginning, we have generally also experienced some kind of ending which comes with layered emotions and experiences of grief, transition, and letting go.
"And so I say all of this just to get us here: don’t be afraid to be a beginner. Be relentlessly kind to yourself.
"What if this is your next right step?"
And,
"Remember Jesus, your King and your friend, your Savior and your Shepherd. You know what else he is? He is the smartest man who ever lived.
"You may not know how to navigate this new beginning, but He does. With him by your side, you have everything you need."
And then, well,
"In closing, I have two resources I wanted to share with you as you embrace your status as a beginner.
"One is a brand new book out TODAY by one of my favorite authors.
"Her name is Leeana Tankersley and her book is called fittingly “Begin Again”. I got my hands on an early copy last year, gladly endorsed it, and now I recommend it to you. As we talk about starting over this month I’m certain I’ll be quoting her beautiful words more than once."
So yes, of course, I downloaded a sample of the book quickly. And then I bought it and read it all. It was ridiculously perfect for me personally -- "Even as I wait for faraway things, I must attend to what is right in front of me. Namely, a home and three kids, and all the flotsam and jetsam that comes in the door behind them every day. Requests, solicitations, invitations, forms... these tend not to be my forte." "Who wants to be awake? I mean, we say we do, but awake is vulnerable and exposed and perhaps more honest than I can tolerate."
But if it's not amazingly right for you, even if you don't write down on your calendar to read it again at the end of the year, like I did, or immediately go out to look for everything else she's ever written, you'll probably still enjoy it. It should still be good, even if it doesn't reach the ridiculously good level for you. Don't worry.
If you're a parent, I'm pretty sure you'll definitely want to read at least chapter 3, "Donations for Those Less Fortunate." Because it's a hilarious story, but with so much heart in it, too.
"The kids got their shoes on and I began to herd the cats, herd the cats, herd the cats down to the driveway. I put the bags down, and as I was reaching to open the back of the van, a child screamed from the house as if her arm had spontaneously detached. I ran to the house, found the child and the arm, reattached the arm, and now the other two were back in the house, wanting to see what all the blood and gore was about.
"So, again, I began to herd the cats, herd the cats, herd the cats back down to the van. Finally, everyone is buckled and we are on our way!"
You'll have to get your hands on a copy to read how that turns out, but I'll give you this:
"You will wake up one morning with absolutely every good intention. You will be armed with momentum and desire and you will have spent some time listening to God. You will feel centered and rooted and you will feel connected to God and to your own soul, but that will not protect you from yourself entirely. And it certainly won't protect you from your children. Your serenity will never insulate you from the chaos that is always lurking.
"This is how we come to learn, in the absolute trenches, the power of the words 'begin' and 'again' right up next to each other. We will need them thirty times in the next ten minutes, maybe more. This is how we hang in there, present and accounted for, in our own lives. We open up, again, when all we want to do is slam shut."
Listen. Listen to this.
"God's story is a narrative of emancipation. Here's the heart of it: What we thought was an ending may very well be a beginning. When the hissing in our ear tells us it's over, God whispers an opportunity. Here's a place we could start from, he says. Here's a rock bottom. Hooray. Let's see this for what it is: a possibility.
"And we get the gift of being able to seek resurrection instead of annihilation, even though things might feel so very bleak. How is it possible that this is the start of freedom? I don't know, exactly. But I believe it could be.
"Whether you are huddled in your closet right now, hiding from your children, or you are navigating the dissolution of an important relationship, or you are embarking on new work that is requiring more from you than you imagined--whether your life feels impossibly small or overwhelmingly enormous--just think of this book as my way of sliding a note to you on a scrap of paper. When you open it, you will find my message to you:
"Breathe and begin again."
I know I've quoted a lot of words here. But if you don't mind, I have one more chunk. Please let me pray this prayer of Emily Freeman's, also from Be a Beginner:
"Oh God,
We confess our longing to be the smartest person in the room.
Reveal to us the true fear hiding beneath the surface.
We are afraid of not having the answer.
We are afraid of looking like a fool.
We are afraid that perhaps they were right and we aren’t cut out for this after all.
We are afraid of being a beginner.
As we fall from the crumbling wall of our own reputation, status, and ability, we trust You are the solid ground beneath our tired feet.
As we face those who have doubted us the most, remind us how You stand in front of us, behind us, beside us, and within us.
When we look for courage elsewhere, remind us to turn to You instead.
You have all the gumption and moxie we could possibly need.
We accept our smallness in Your presence.
Replace our shame with laughter and our doubt with love.
Teach us to begin again with joy."
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