Two are better than one

Let me introduce you to a new name at A Habit Called Faith

Weeks ago, I was detailing the different iterations of these letters over the years, that since 2011, a blog became a monthly newsletter became weekly letters became this learning community, A Habit Called Faith.

Photo by Tom Crew on Unsplash

In the 2017-2021 Miscellany era (Miscellany being the name for the long, unwieldy newsletter that arrived to readers at the end of every month), a wonderful friend and fellow church member helped me with the task of editing those letters. Stephanie Amores also helped me launch several books including Keeping Place and A Habit Called Faith. When she moved to Michigan with her growing family—and I moved to the Substack platform—Stephanie had less time and I had less work. Those were good years together, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for them.

In recent months, I’ve been feeling the nudge toward more collaboration again. Perhaps it was all the times someone would say to me, “If a member of your team wants to . . .” Team? I wanted a team! When I mentioned this to a local friend (and mentioned my ideal candidate, a friend we shared in common), she said, “Why don’t you ask her?”I did—and she said yes!

Abby Murrish is the women’s ministry director at my church. She and I share a devotion to Jesus, to great books, and many other things although what’s equally generative, for both our friendship and working relationship, is the host of our differences. She is a wonderful writer and thinker, and you can read her work at her Substack. I’ve asked Abby to be a creative partner with me in this work, to generate ideas for serving this community of learners together.

One thing that is important to me is to draw your attention to the collaboration that creativity requires. I remember years ago, Andy Crouch wrote an opinion piece regarding the “citation errors” in Mark Driscoll’s work. (The article is now on Andy’s website, and you can read it in full.) Crouch was responding to a much larger issue than citation errors, when he reminded readers how dangerous it could be to ever give the impression that one’s work has been entirely self-generated, especially when that someone is a celebrity figure.

Let me quote the portion that has stuck with me, all these years later—an insight that relates to creativity and collaboration.

“Mark Driscoll is a human being,” Crouch writes, “created in the image of God, with great gifts, real limits, and very likely a genuine calling to ministry. But ‘Pastor Mark Driscoll,’ the author of ‘literally thousands of pages of content a year,’ the purveyor of hundreds of hours of preaching, is in grave danger of becoming a false image. No human being could do what ‘Pastor Mark Driscoll’ does—the celebrity is actually a complex creation of a whole community of people who sustain the illusion of an impossibly productive, knowledgeable, omnicompetent superhuman.

The real danger here is not plagiarism—it is idolatry.”

I certainly don’t produce the volume of work that celebrity pastors and social media influencers do—and still, I want to draw attention to the help I receive along the way to make any of my work possible. Abby is one of those people, and I hope you’ll give her a warm welcome in the comments!

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JM: What does a day in the life of Abby Murrish look like?

AM: Over the past few years, I’ve learned that I thrive on variety that’s constrained by simple routines. Suffice it to say, everyday is different as I hold my different responsibilities as a wife, mom/primary caregiver to my children, women’s ministry director, daughter, sister, friend and neighbor.

Every weekday by 8a (if it’s a preschool day) or 10a (if it’s not a preschool day), my kids and I are dressed and fed. I’ve listened to my morning playlist while drinking my coffee and cleaning out the dishwasher. I’ve hopefully read my Bible, thought about dinner and pulled out anything I need to thaw from the freezer and I’ve checked my email.

From there, it’s different everyday. Staff meetings, meetings or visits to folks in our congregation, making dinner for someone, Bible study, enjoying a new park with my kids, taking an exercise class, etc. 

After my kids and I have lunch, we begin rest time. And as I like to tell my almost 5-year-old daughter, it’s rest time for mommy too, ha! During my rest time, I exercise or take a quick nap (depending on what my body needs that day), have a friend over, work, prep for dinner, and/or tend my home depending on the day. 

Once rest time is over, my kids watch a show or two while I wrap up any work for the day then we try to get outside, play games, etc. 

Once my husband gets home from work, he watches the kids while I finish anything needed for dinner. Then, we attempt some semblance of family dinner. Honestly though, my kids eat quesadillas while watching a TV show so my husband and I can talk.

After dinner, my husband and I tag team bedtime, resetting the house, and kitchen cleanup. Then, we either hang out together and watch a few episodes of a show, I head to a work meeting or an evening with a friend, my husband plays hockey with his league or we host our church Bible study at our home.

Eventually, I wind up in bed every night, and I read for a while, then it’s time to sleep.

On weekends, we loosely follow the approach from “How To Not Hate Your Husband After Kids” by Jacee Dunn. We break Friday evening through Sunday evening into four-ish hour chunks and slot in all of the things we want to do in those times. It’s usually a combination of rest, work or house projects, family time, church and time with friends.

JM: What kinds of writing do you do—and aspire to do?

AM: If I’m perfectly honest, a lot of my writing these days is the very ordinary type. I write emails, send messages on our church communication platform, handwrite notes to folks who visited our church or women walking through hardship, compose texts to family and friends, women I work with and teams I help coordinate, etc. I’m realizing more and more that those are the ways I care for the people God has put in my life. To quote Tish Harrison Warren, “these are the small tasks in which we live out God’s blessing and into which we are sent.”

Two recent writing highlights are helping write and edit two Bible studies and creating a service of lament for women in our church. I also curate a newsletter on Substack called “Martha’s Kitchen Society” where I consider what it looks like to keep company with Jesus while serving my neighbor. 

Looking to what I hope to do, I really enjoy Laura Vanderkam’s approach to writing. She poses a question or considers a problem, then researches a solution through reading scientific literature, conducting personal interviews, and considering her own life. I’d love to apply that approach to a topic I care about.

JM: Tell us a little bit about your experience of writing a rule of life.

AM: A Rule of Life has been an incredible tool to help me respond creatively and faithfully to God’s voice in my “right now” life. There are a lot of voices in my life (including my own) telling me what I ought to do. By taking time to listen to God’s voice through his Word, his people and contemplation, what I’m called to do slowly took shape. As Dr. Tasha Chapman writes, “an ounce of reflective observations leads to a pound of learning.”

For the particulars of writing my rule, I worked through Jen’s course that she created when “In Good Time” released. Then I spent time discerning what God wants me to direct my attention to. So, my rule is organized by what I’m called to “attend to.”

Then, I gathered with two of my friends (who also took the course) for dinner to talk about our rules, discuss pinch points that came up and offer encouragement. We hope to meet again to revisit our rules together too.

My rule has given me confidence to say “yes” and “no” to different asks that are made of me. It’s nudged me toward diligence when I’m inclined to choose sloth. It’s offered a standard to measure faithfulness that is grounded in my relationship with God versus comparison with another person.

JM: What makes you excited to collaborate with me in this learning community?

AM: I’ve richly benefitted from online communities over the past several years. I’ve found them wonderful places to ask questions, bear witness to another’s story, consider perspectives that aren’t my own and offer encouragement. While you can’t (and shouldn’t) replace an embodied community with a virtual community, I do think online communities are unique spaces to learn from others and find encouragement, and that’s why I’m excited to collaborate in this endeavor.