Tag: essay

Whatever is Pure and Lovely | Story Warren

So. I spent a year writing two different articles—two very different articles. I spent a year tinkering with one of them, altering this sentence and then that one, cutting passages and pasting them elsewhere or—in a burst of spontaneity—deleting them altogether.

The other arrived half-complete: in a single morning, I wrote a promising opening, but no ending. Nothing for months, no matter how many times I opened my draft, stared at the blinking cursor and thought my thoughts.

And then I grew a baby, which meant I spent a lot of time sleeping. I had the baby, which meant I spent a lot of time not sleeping but not writing either.

But a few months ago, I opened the one article, dusted it off, cut or rearranged a few more lines.

I opened the other and, in a sudden gust, wrote the missing last half. In a single morning, they were both done. I sent them off, washing my hands of them in two clicks of the Send button, and did not see them again until this week, when they appeared on separate sites within days of each other.

Of course that makes me happy. It always does, when the words I shuffle around each morning go off into the world to connect with readers. But this piece, the second article, is especially dear to me. It’s a quirky one, a story that seemed just right. I don’t entirely understand it myself and there’s something about that that seems fitting. I hope you enjoy it too:

At 9:30, my daughter comes downstairs—she can’t sleep. She’ll be seven next month and the world is expanding around her, I can see it. She’s more aware of other people now, more aware of adult conversation, more aware, in this instance, of volcanoes.

“Volcanoes?” I repeat, settling down next to her on the couch. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m just worried about them. I read about them in class today and I . . . “. I know that she sees it clearly, whatever she read that day, as real to her as I am. A definite fear shapes the set of her mouth and she gives into it for a moment before drawing away and finishing lamely, “I’m just worried about them.”

I want to offer her comfort—immediate, tangible comfort—in the shape of a promise. They’re far away. We don’t have to worry about that here. Things like that don’t happen anymore. Or the great silence-killing assurance, “It’s okay.”

But I can’t say any of that.

You can read the rest of the article here.


Whatever is Pure and Lovely
Théa Rosenburg, Story Warren

Deeply Rooted Magazine, Issue 7: Legacy

Long before we had children, I stayed up late, dragged my husband and guitar into seedy downtown venues, and serenaded strangers over their pints of beer. The story of what music meant to me then, as a mildly professional musician, and what it means to me now, as a mother and a Christian, is one of my favorite ones to tell, and I had the privilege of telling it in the newest issue of Deeply Rooted magazine.

Thea Rosenburg | Little Book, Big Story

Photo: Gabriel Boone Photography (2007)

Writing that article inspired me to organize and upload what recordings I have and make them available for free download through Bandcamp. Consider it a multi-media experience: you can read the article in Deeply Rooted, listen to my studio EP from 2007, and listen to the live recording of a show played in 2013. It is a pleasure to share both the songs and the story behind them with you.

But, of course, that’s not all you’ll find in the new issue of Deeply Rooted. You’ll also find an article by William Farley, author of Gospel-Powered Parenting (we had the good fortune to hear him speak recently and it was richly rewarding), as well as “Trusting God With Your Child’s Education,” by Lindsay Cournia, and a beautiful essay on David’s legacy through Psalm 51 by Yasmin Sarai Robinson. Also, some recipes worth making now.

Like its predecessors, this issue is filled with the sort of riches you can spend all at once (that is, read piecemeal while waiting to pick up kids and so on) or savor and draw on slowly (i.e. read on a sunny porch while the kids sleep). You can order a copy here.

Deeply Rooted Magazine, Issue 7: Legacy | Little Book, Big Story

(But wait—this isn’t a children’s book! Why am I writing about Deeply Rooted?)


Deeply Rooted Magazine
Issue 7: Legacy (Fall 2015)

How I Learned to Love Love Stories | Deeply Rooted Magazine

It used to be that mysteries and love stories were my two least favorite forms of fiction. But Flavia de Luce and Sherlock Holmes won me over to mysteries, just as—well. If you’d like to read about the authors and characters that won me over to love stories, you can read my new piece, “How I Learned to Love Love Stories,” on the Deeply Rooted blog.

"How I Learned to Love Love Stories," on the Deeply Rooted blog | Little Book, Big Story

And while I’m sending you off to other sites, have you listened to Sarah McKenzie’s podcast, Read Aloud Revival? If you connect with anything on my blog at all, you’ll love it!

Deeply Rooted Magazine, Issue 4: Root

I have an aversion to reading birth stories on the internet. It’s not that I don’t care about birth stories—quite the opposite, in fact. I love hearing them told in person, when I can watch a new mother gesture with her hands as she tries to wrestle those first moments into words. I love laughing with her over the things people said, the things she said, during labor, and over how far away it all seems now, as though she has crossed a great chasm and we’re standing there together, looking back at the bridge that brought her to safety.

Birth stories are personal stories, and not just because they have to do with bodily functions: their power lies not in the litany of details—minutes, centimeters, hours—but in the fact that each story is truly unique to the woman who lived it. No one else can share your story with you—not fully, anyway. And while the rest of us can enjoy your story and be moved by it, we eventually have to back away and leave the experience with you, where it is meant to stay. Telling these stories on the internet, then, feels to me like shouting from a platform what ought to be treasured among close friends.

Yes, I have an aversion to reading birth stories on the internet. And so it is fitting (and just this side of hypocritical) that my first full essay for Deeply Rooted opens on a scene from the night of Phoebe’s birth. It seemed right, as I was writing, to include that moment, and so I did. That took me down a peg.

Deeply Rooted, Issue 4: Root | Little Book, Big Story

From there the essay moves into a consideration of the birth of Christ—what we know happened that night in the stable, what might have happened, and what it might have meant to Mary. But the essay isn’t a birth story: it’s mostly about Mary. And it’s in the newest issue of Deeply Rooted. (You can purchase a copy here.)

Deeply Rooted, Issue 4: Root | Little Book, Big Story


Deeply Rooted Magazine
Issue 04, Winter: Root