Welcome to The Paradox Paper, a monthly newsletter that honors paradox in the every day. If a friend forwarded you this email, click here to subscribe:
I am always glad to step away from this work for the month of December. It’s a relief to let Christmas come and go without scrambling to get a newsletter together. It’s an equal relief to get back to it in January, and a bit surprised that you’re all still here and ready to read it!
The Paradox Paper has moved from a 1st of the month release to a last-Friday-of-the-month release to make room for The Good Nonsense Community which launched earlier this month. Here we make room for questions and pain alongside joy. I believe that’s good and necessary, but if you get a hankerin for a bit more silliness in your life, I invite you to rub elbows in the comment section of GNC threads. You will not be disappointed.
This edition of the Play section brought to you by streaming services and the Brits.
The Repair Shop, Netflix
Sometimes, perhaps especially now, you need to be reminded that all will be well. You need to see things put in order. You need to scrub your bathroom until it shines or clear all the random files off your desktop. The Repair Shop is that pure, calm feeling of reassurance wrapped up in a show.
The premise is simple. Cute, non-emotive British people bring a broken family heirloom—a chair, a teddy bear, a painting—to a shop filled with expert craftspeople. The appropriate expert restores the item to it’s original glory and returns it to the owners. It will make you feel warm and hopeful and cozy.
Gogglebox, Youtube
Gogglebox is a reality show about British people watching TV. You know the snarky remarks your brother makes while you’re trying to watch The Bachelor? Or how you always criticize that news anchor’s hair? Or the annoying/hilarious way your aunt will not stop asking questions during the movie? It turns out British families have those same TV-watching-ticks. Gogglebox takes you inside their homes as they watch their favorite shows. My favorites are sisters Ellie and Izzy (though good luck understanding them) and married couple Giles and Mary. There’s no way I can make it sound as interesting and hilarious as it is, you’ll just have to see for yourself.*
*It’s worth mentioning that the Brits have a different scale of what’s considered strong profanity, so there is the occasional sweet old lady dropping the F bomb as she watches a dance competition.
Perhaps you’ve heard, but I am roughly 8 weeks away from having our third (and totally unexpected*) boy child. His crib is up, his clothes are washed and folded, he has a name. We are excited to meet him. And I am sometimes very fearful.
We didn’t plan on a third kid, largely because the second one was so difficult for so long. He was not a good sleeper and constantly clingy, but it wasn’t just his fault. He came at an upside down time in our lives.
I know it won’t be the same this time around. As a family unit we are more healthy and happy and safe than we were before. But somehow I can’t shake the comparison. My body remembers, even if my mind says it’s not the same.
I remember the way giving birth felt like something I just had to get done and over with, like everyone was waiting on me. I remember how, when the time finally came, it was fast and I felt afraid and out of control.
I remember how isolating the next 9 months felt. The insanity-inducing exhaustion of waking up 7-8 times every night with a baby who screamed and screamed and screamed, only to face another marathon day of solo-parenting an infant and young toddler.
I know the third need not be like the second, just as the second was so different from the first. I know there’s such joy and tenderness in the early days. I know that even if darkness creeps in, light returns. Still, I’m anxious. I wish the excitement I feel when I see the crib or the neatly stacked baby clothes was how I felt all the time. I wish that his birth didn’t feel simultaneously like an event that can’t come soon enough and one I’ll never be ready for.
Know this (I’m tell you and me both): however complex or simplistic your emotions are around this whole tangle of babies and waiting and what makes a family, Jesus loves you. He will be enough.
*The thing about the third kid is that you have no need for a baby registry. Unless you were very much Only Having Two Kids, and just *happened* to get rid of several essential items mere *weeks* before finding out you would indeed be having a third. 2020, amiright? If you’d like to help us welcome Boy #3 you can access our registry here.
If you or someone you love is welcoming a baby into already close-quarters, that’s what I wrote about on the blog this month.
I am roughly half way through Jesus And John Wayne by Kristen Kobes Du Mez and… wow. It is a history of how white evangelicals have engaged with American culture and politics over the last 75 years, and it is truly fascinating. It had been on my “books that sound interesting” radar for a while, so when Beth Moore referred to it as THE book she read in 2020 that she wished everyone would read, I ordered that very day.
This is the best way I can think to describe it:
Imagine you’re in bed and all the lights are out. You start to hear skittering, scratching noises around the room. These sounds persist for long enough that you become convinced your bedroom is infested with rats. With dread in your throat, you turn on the lights and see the rats skitter into the shadows. You don’t know how they got in or where they are coming from, but there they are, and now you know you need to call an exterminator.
This book is like the bedroom light. I am equal parts shocked, disgusted, and relieved while reading it. Highly recommend.
A prayer based on Ezra 3:10-11
It is a true joy to write for you each month, and I always love to hear about shows that you watched, products you tried, and anything that stirred your heart. Simply reply to this email or leave a comment to let me know.
Until next time, hold the paradox and don’t panic. Love you.
-Steph
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