This past December, I led an Advent workshop at my church, and one week we discussed Luke 1, where both Mary and Zechariah were told they would become parents against some pretty solid biological circumstances.
“How can this be?” they both asked. Zechariah was told to be quiet. Actually, he was made quiet. “No words for you for a li’l bit,” is what I imagine Gabriel saying.
But Mary, who asked the exact same question, did not have the same outcome. Quite the opposite, actually. She ends Luke 1 singing a song praise for what God has done.
“How can this be?” the question was asked again, this time from one of us sitting around the table on a December Sunday where the clouds outside hung heavy and gray but would not relent any snow; only press on our shoulders and neck with what could be but not yet is. “How come Zechariah lost his words but Mary could keep talking?” We all wondered.
I go to a church that is nearing 200 years old. It is majestic and mysterious and it is easy for me to both imagine and freak myself out thinking about the ghosts from Bible stories past roaming the nooks and crannies, sailing around the hallways after the candles have been snuffed out, and the notes from the organ and the bells have ceased. So it was easy for me to think that Gabriel was in the room with us, listening as we considered the two different outcomes of the same act. And since I picture Gabriel as some kind of All-Star football player who doesn’t ask questions, but instead does whatever it is that is asked of him (and hoping for a tackle), I half expected to hear, “Look, we don’t ask questions. We just do what Coach says - HUT HUT HUT!”
One of us thought it was a matter of heart. That is, God knew the subtext from which the question was asked. Zechariah’s “How can this be” might’ve been asked in a tone interpreted as - “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about, or whom you’re talking to, you crazy angel.” While Mary’s might’ve come from a place of fear and curiosity; confusion and wonder.
Understanding the ways of the Lord is beyond my skill set, so I’m not going to attempt that (I can barely understand the ways of my teenage daughters). What I will focus on is this: Mary spoke.
I was pregnant and then I was told I was not one Wednesday afternoon in November of 2005. I do not remember what I said, but I know sounds left my mouth and while they weren’t coherent, their sentiment was the same as Zechariah and Mary’s: Why? How? When?
I did not have an answer (would an answer have made it better?), but I did and I do have a willingness to talk about the baby I’ll never know and I know I am now joined with an infinite amount of women who’ve also heard the most tragic of words: “no heartbeat” but who also are willing to join in the chorus of lament with me.
In 2007, I met a blogger—a mommy blogger—and I am sure I sounded a lot like Zechariah when I said, “Why would you do that?” Thank goodness she was a friend. Thank goodness she didn’t smack me over the head at my rudeness because underneath my disrespect was me saying, “I want to do that too, but I am afraid.”
She told me she blogs in order to make something from her days, and I think now this was her way of asking, “How can this be?” and not finding an answer, but instead, using the question to create a story.
I am serving on Session at my church, and to say my navigation in this role has been smooth is like saying that Taylor Swift tickets were a breeze to get and also affordable. About six months into my term (I have three years, God be with me and Gabriel, too), a pastor took me out for a beer to, what I assumed, listen to me vent. And he did listen. He understood what I was saying, too. But he also told me it’s time to use my voice. “Speak up,” he said. Then he said there’ve been times when he could tell I was going to say something in our meetings, but then I never did. “Cut that out,” he told me.
“You were called,” he said, lifting his glass and taking a swallow. “Use your words.”
Maybe it wasn’t so much a punishment that Zechariah received as it was individualized instruction. He needed loss of language for his faith to grow, while Mary needed the use of language to grow hers.
I think this is similar to the work we do at Coffee + Crumbs. We find stories from our “How can this be?” We find them, and we craft them, and we share them. We share them with the other Marys of the world, in the hopes they’ll find themselves at home in the questions, and have the courage not only to keep asking, but to share a story, too.
We do it for the Zechariahs, as well. Because eventually they will pick up their pens. They will name what couldn’t possibly be, but what is. They will write a new story.
Love,
Callie
Recipe you most definitely want to make this month: Sarah’s peppermint scones
C+C Faves
This “Passive Aggressive Roommate Email From My Child's Immune System to His Preschool Class” made us LOL.
Books on our (collective) nightstands: Screaming on the Inside: The Unsustainability of American Motherhood, 100 Things We’ve Lost to the Internet, Nora Goes Off Script, and The Measure.
“We don’t have a big fancy tree or a fireplace to adorn with garlands and stockings. We don’t have the freedom to think, dream, or plan. We only have this ordinary tree—and the three of us under one roof. It isn’t Instagram-worthy, but it represents something more than just the snarled mess of a dream not yet come true.” // The Longest Night and the Smallest Tree
Are you in the market for some new kitchen towels? These are our new faves.
This interview on screen time is one of the best we’ve read on the topic, via
.“But I’ve never doubted that I’m a writer because I don’t doubt that I am a mother, and so it’s always been a matter of how for me. Because I must mother, so I must write, too. It’s who I am.” // Real Moms Creating in the Margins: An Interview with Callie Feyen via
The best gifts our kids received for Christmas: kid-sized binoculars, this cool geode kit, adorable personalized books, no-spill paint cups, this clay dinosaur kit, a Tonies storytime box, an art set with an included easel, and this fun tool to keep your kids from losing marker caps.
The best gifts we received for Christmas: Rumpl blankets, slip-on slippers, a new yoga mat, some simple gold earrings, these super soft pajama pants, and this gnocchi board set for date night in.
“Faith is an active wager that order will arise out of disorder. Or a decision to trust that, eventually, we will see the way God sees: that where we see a shapeless mass, he sees a deeper pattern. Where we find a void, a mess, he offers the space and raw materials to create something new and maybe better.” // Two Inches from Van Gogh
Are you looking for some new recipes to kick start your new year? We are loving this make-ahead breakfast casserole, Mexican beef soup, and Joanna Gaines’ take on chicken pot pie.
“Isn’t this why we read—for our world to be opened wide? Isn’t this what compels us to underline sentences—because they have awoken something in us?” // How To Wake Up Your Writing via
A simple pleasure: this cooling and brightening eye balm.
“Disappointment can be sad, frustrating, and even heartbreaking, but there is no way to avoid it. Even when we’ve tried to avoid feeling hopeful, or getting excited, when the outcome isn’t the one we wanted, we still feel upset, whether we’re willing to admit it or not. We haven’t actually extinguished our feelings, we just haven’t acknowledged them.” // It’s Okay To Get Your Hopes Up via
Podcast Recs
We appreciated this gentle nudge into the new year from The Lazy Genius Collective.
The “Your Undivided Attention” podcast explores the power of technology, and we found this episode—which is centered around listener questions—fascinating.
Exhale is Open to New Members!
Are you looking for inspiration, accountability, and a community of hype girls to support you in your creative endeavors this year? Exhale is open for enrollment from January 2-13, and we have room for you at our table! Learn more here.
Upcoming Workshops:
A Year of Content: Guiding Planning Session with Callie Feyen // January 9th
Slow Writing & Accountability with Sonya Spillmann // starts January 11th
Writing Motherhood with Adrienne Garrison // January 28th
Reading Well, Writing Well II: Building an Author’s Toolbox with Callie and Sonya // starts February 6th
Impact:
I have read so many essays, bought your book, listened to the podcast, and have truly felt safe, known, encouraged, and loved. I have cried and laughed. I have shared these words with other women who have also fallen in love with them. The image that each and every one of you paints is what my soul needs. And from your words, I have grown in my spiritual walk with God, my walk as a wife, and my walk as a mother. I hope that you all continue this work. You have renewed my spirit, and for that I am so thankful. - Megan, C+C reader
FYI:
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"We share them with the other Marys of the world, in the hopes they’ll find themselves at home in the questions, and have the courage not only to keep asking, but to share a story, too." Just beautiful, Callie.
Loved these words by Callie ❤️