broken open

in which a book begins its stirring . . .

this book, its cover now seen for the very first time, is a love letter: to life, and to everyone and everything that colors my world, and draws me closer to the palpable presence i know as the Holy.

curiously, it came in the wake of an uncommon cancer found deep in my lung back in the spring of 2023. it took form in the months after surgery, when the subsequent scans—every three to six months—bracketed time and brought ballast, but more so a spiritual epiphany as old as, well, time.

in the sixth century, the great monastic benedict of nursia, in his precept known as The Rule, taught his followers to “keep death daily” before their eyes. he understood, as did the sages whose wisdom threads through the millennia, that to keep our death before our eyes is to be fully, fully awake and alive. to not give short shrift to the sheer improbability of our existence. to love exuberantly. and to reach for the holiness we were all meant to be.

Broken Open is my meditation on that truth, a narrative that courses through the first two years, from surgery to scans, when i found myself living in what i came to know as Scan Time, time reframed, abbreviated, doled out in six-month measures. it’s a span of time riveted by fear and becalmed by those things that save us: a whiff of hope in the form of a doctor’s few words, a great laugh, a good friend showing up at the door, a quiet hour alone—in a pew or the woods or the nook where we turn a fine page.

its title tells its story: it’s a book about being not broken, but broken open. discovering the beauties and wisdoms within. if you can get past the brokenness, and into the opening.

it’s a scary, scary thing to put my story out there—i’m not so big on baring my medical foibles and frailties.

but here’s what slays that fear: my hope, my prayer that this book finds its way to any someone who sits alone, afraid, and desperately seeking even a sliver of light.

this book is my hand reaching for yours.

undying thanks to the great folks at Brazos Press for bringing it to the page; to Katelyn Beaty, my editor, for prodding me into the depths, and drawing light out of the murk. to all the great and glorious souls who have kept me upright (mostly) these past couple years.

Broken Open: How Our Most Fragile Seasons Invite Us to Extravagant Love will be in bookstores in early february and, as is the way of the publishing world these days, you can pre-order it now:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Broken-Open-Fragile-Seasons-Extravagant/dp/1587437112

Baker Book House: https://bakerbookhouse.com/products/9781587437113_broken-open

for all my beloved friends of the chair, this is the first missive dispatched from substack, and i sure as heck hope this finds you. the behind-the-curtain wizardry is mostly beyond my comprehension, so i’ll just cross my fingers and hope. i’ll be back friday, our regularly scheduled programming, for another round of the chair. but this special announcement just begged to be told now. (and clearly i am finding my way here, because i have no idea how to make all these little buttons below line up in a neat little row…)