Setting Our Sail

More than once recently I’ve heard people refer to my blog posts as “newsletters.” Which makes me both chuckle and cringe. Duly noted: I did start blogging as a way to process our adoption journey in real time. Also acknowledged: there’s a definite overlap between my stories of faith and family. That said. I am humbly acceding to the “newsy” aspect of these blog posts, while holding out hope they will also inspire. 

So. This week’s news headline: All is Relatively Quite on the Homefront. 

Which is to say, despite regular showings and encouraging feedback, our lake house is still on the market, and we are still waiting. And we are weirdly okay with all of that. 

Rewinding the story to the spring of 2025. This would have been the season of whispers and wondering. We’d known for a while about the potential opportunity to move to our son’s neighborhood. And our curiosity had been piqued about a church in the metro. At this time both Kyle and I were reading Tyler Staton’s Familiar Stranger with three different Bible studies, and it was Tyler who introduced us to 

The Prayer of Indifference. 

I’m remembering especially an interview between Staton and Pastor Rich Villodas, where they discussed the Holy Spirit’s role in “discernment.” Villodas described a practice they use with their church staff when a decision needs to be made. Let’s say the decision is between two good choices. The first step is for all participants to give an honest rating of their current attachment to choice A or choice B. The second step is willing surrender. Acknowledging bias, each person does their best to open hands and open hearts to the very good will of the Father. They pray the prayer of indifference. “God, we trust you to lead.” 

For obvious reasons this posture has been especially helpful as Kyle and I have wondered and prayed about a potential move. We have two great options. God knows our future. And we defer to Him. 

Earlier this summer, in response to a post I’d written about caring for my mom, my dear friend and former neighbor, Laurie Keller, sent an encouraging message:

“What a challenging time… I hear in your writing that you’re wanting to be docile to the Holy Spirit.”

She went on to recommend a book she’d been reading. 

I promptly placed an order through a Mom & Pop bookseller; several weeks passed and the book arrived. By now I was in the unexpected whirlwind of staging my house for its initial showing, and in an effort to declutter, I placed my new arrival on an obscure shelf in my library closet. 

Fast forward.

A few days ago I was doing some journaling in the form of confession. Increasingly aware of some “red flags” regarding the state of my heart, I’d been asking God to refine me. Specifically I was thinking of this lump of putty I’d been given by a physical therapist years ago after wrist surgery. Inside the putty were all these little beads, and my therapy was to squeeze them to the surface. (I promise, this is all connected.)

So I had been asking God to do THAT for me, and He had been. 

Back to my journal. 

This particular morning I was grappling especially with a particular weakness, and I was asking the Spirit to show me the solution. I listened for a while. Not in hurry. Just trusting He’d show me, which He did. 

He showed me a little book, waiting in my closet, and He told me to go and get it. It was Laurie’s gift, and the Spirit’s too, and it was exactly what I needed: 

We cannot receive the motions of the Holy Spirit if we are rigidly attached to our possessions, our ideas, or our point of view. To allow ourselves to be led by the Spirit of God, we need great compliance and adaptability, and we can acquire these little by little by practicing detachment. (From In the School of the Holy Spirit, by Jacques Philippe)

Well then. Did you hear it? 

Detachment. Indifference. 

Weeks ago our pastor used a sermon illustration, and it’s one Kyle and I have returned to often. We are sailboats, and the Spirit is wind. 

We trust the Wind. 

One of my all-time favorite songwriters also uses this image in a song that’s been playing in my head on repeat. I’ll close today’s newsletter with a selection of lyrics: 

It's Your love that we adore

It's like a sea without a shore

Don't be afraid

Don't be afraid

Just set your sail

And risk the ocean

Let's risk the ocean

It's only grace…

And where You go, we will follow

I'm on my knees

Where You go, we will follow

Oh, God, send me

(Sometimes by David Crowder)