Dear Readers,
Happy Fourth Day of Christmas to those who celebrate!
Twenty years ago, I finally gave in and admitted to myself that I like country music. I still remember the moment of defeat: I was driving home from a chaplain internship at a hospital, about a twenty-minute drive, and couldn’t find anything I wanted to listen to on my Honda’s pre-set radio stations so was seeking stations manually. I found one with a country music song, and kept it there for that song, and then another, and then another; and finally made that country music station one of my pre-sets.
I had complained about country music for years. My parents and siblings all loved the genre, and such music was a backdrop to my childhood, but I would vociferously point out that country music was often misogynist and grammatically bankrupt. My parents and siblings, all educated professionals, just laughed. At least, I told myself that day in the car, driving home from the hospital: at least country music songs made sense. They had clear narrative. I never had to wonder what the artist was singing about.
Not long after this epiphany, a hit came out called “Live Like You Were Dying” by Tim McGraw. A man in his 40s who learned of a terminal diagnosis changed the way he lived and told his friend that he hoped the friend could also someday learn to live like he was dying. (Of course, being country music, that last g was dropped, so it’s actually dyin’.)
I liked the song, and even quoted it in a sermon once; but that was before I contracted cancer. I don’t like it quite as much now, even as I realize the lyricist got many things right. Brushes with death help us prioritize, and I am happier and more fulfilled now than I have ever been. I love being an Episcopal priest and every time I celebrate the Eucharist is a gift. I finally wrote a book, and have another coming out this year, as well as contracts for two others. I’ve said things I wanted to say and achieved things I desperately wanted, like watching my five-year-old niece see a firefly for the first time. I’m so grateful. But now what?
Last month I wrote about living in the present, which seems like another take on living like we are dying—because of course every day brings each of us closer to our own deaths, not just those of us with incurable diseases. But since becoming “NED” (No Evidence of Disease) last month, which is also sometimes called remission for those of us with incurable cancer, I am trying to figure out how to live like I plan to… keep living. I found out my cancer had recurred one year ago, and first I spent all my time obsessed with trying to get a pneumonectomy completion: that is, getting the rest of my infected lung OUT, which was my best chance for a cure. I had to get all kinds of tests and jump through various hoops to convince a surgeon to do that, and it happened last January. I’m now officially a one-lunger. But when they removed the rest of that lung, the surgeon discovered that the cancer had spread to my aorta, so they could not remove it all surgically, which led to radiation and targeted therapy and many miserable months. Something was always on the horizon: the end of radiation. The next surgery. The next test. Returning to work. Getting to Arizona again (making more memories with those precious babies, wondering if they will remember me). Christmas Eve service.
Now I’ve done all of those things, and my next scan isn’t scheduled yet, and I don’t quite know what to do. I know from past experience that something will try to knock me over again, probably soon; but until then, instead of “living like I’m dying,” I want to just live. I’ll let you know if I figure out how to do that.
In the meantime, below you’ll find some links to what I’m reading and writing and where you can listen to me. Deep thanks for reading, and I hope you will leave a comment (weigh in on your feelings about country music!) and subscribe.
Blessings,
Elizabeth
What I’m Reading:
The House of Doors by Tan Twan Eng: A novel about W. Somerset Maugham, a writer I used to love when I sold first editions years and years ago.
Absolution by Alice McDermott: Epistolary novel from two perspectives.
A couple of thrillers I had on hold at the library for a while became available at once:
Night Will Find You by Julia Heaberlin
None of This Is True by Lisa Jewell
Now I’ve started a new memoir which is great so far, Bill Eville’s Washed Ashore: Family, Fatherhood, and Finding Home on Martha’s Vineyard by the male spouse of a pastor.
For ideas on how to celebrate all twelve days of Christmas, check out this essay by my writing soulmate Dana VanderLugt
Finally, I somehow missed this review when it came out last month. I love that the reviewer said about me, “She has an un-preacher-like and somewhat jarring habit, though, of scolding God when he doesn’t behave according to her standards!”
What I’m Writing:
All sermons this month:
Where You Can Hear or See Me:
Small Churches Big Impact: Dual Career Clergy. This is the fourth episode of the third season for this podcast, which has fed me and brought me so much joy. I’d met most of these clergy at a Bivocational Conference last year and was honored to speak with them about our experiences. I pray that many others in the Episcopal Church will listen to this and lift up dual-career clergy in their own contexts.
Next month, January 18th at 6 PM, I will be offering a presentation at my local library, the North Courthouse Road location. I’m concerned that no one will come, so would be grateful to see any of you who happen to be local! Seeing my book in the library catalogue has been a joy, and seeing it checked out sent me into ecstasy. I LOVE LIBRARIES.
Book News:
Last month I was honored to join St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church via Zoom to speak with their book club. Deep thanks to the Rev. Julia Messer-Croteau for the invitation! I’d be happy to speak with any church book club via Zoom: it’s an easy way for me to participate without exhausting myself, so please let me know if you’d like to set something up.
The eBook version of Unexpected Abundance is on sale through the end of this month. As usual, I would prefer any purchases happen through your local bookshop or Bookshop.org, but it’s pretty hard to argue against a $2.99 eBook. And I’d be deeply grateful for reviews on Amazon, as I have not yet hit that magical number of 50: I seem stuck at 19. Unfortunately, I can’t offer to reciprocally review books on Amazon, because they have decided I am sketchy, so I’m no longer allowed to review books on there. Served on too many launch teams, maybe? Harrumph. More reason to buy local!
This is beautiful, Elizabeth. I loved reading it but feel your uncertainty, too, and how strangely disorienting it must be. I am also always glad to see what you are reading.
I like this post! You gave me a flash back! When I moved to college in NC, I never listened to country. However…I came to love it and still do!!
Prayers for you and your continued ability to live in the present!! 🙏 🙏 🙏
(Ginger from Manakin Episcopal)