Photo of a Des Moines, Iowa bridge at night with white text overlaid

June 2022: Holier Than Thou + A Note on Processing

The fireworks in my neighborhood are dying down, so it’s official – it’s time for the June 2022 recap:

Best Book I Read This Month 

If God is holy, He can’t sin against me. If God can’t sin against me, He is the most trustworthy being to exist. Jackie Hill Perry breaks down God’s holiness in a tangible, convicting way in Holier Than Thou: How God’s Holiness Helps Us Trust Him. Get it here. 

Best Article I Read This Month

The concept of Jurassic Park is good, actually. Matthew Yglesias over at Slow Boring explained why. Read it here!

Tip + Trick of the Month

In light of SCOTUS’ concerning decision regarding Miranda rights, this thread from former Libertarian Party vice presidential candidate Spike Cohen is helpful: 

Quote of the Month

“This is the promise of minimalism: to rejoice at the sight of all the things we do not need. And to have our lives finally freed to pursue the things we want to do.” -Joshua Becker, The More of Less

Kelvey’s Thought for the Month

Early in June, an evening walk ended in me witnessing a shooting and the murder of a young woman. To close this edition of the newsletter, I wanted to share some lightly edited thoughts I originally shared a week after the event took place: 

“This week was hard. Lots of lost sleep, prayer, and conversations with dear friends. Thank you for your prayers and messages. Monday night, I was present at the shooting that took the life of Elizabeth Arzola. 

I was out for a walk at my favorite place in Des Moines, a walk I take most nights. I never imagined the night would end in Elizabeth’s murder or that I would bear witness to it. Please keep praying for her family and those who were with her that night – their screams will never leave my head. 

Trying to process this trauma over the past week has left me thinking a lot about safety. I can’t help but think about how fast I was walking, the conversation I was having with a friend, and the geese and skateboarders we stopped to watch. If any of that timing had changed for us (or for anyone else on that hill that night), if we had walked even slightly faster or not stopped at all, we might not be here today. That night was determined by seconds, and I can’t make sense of why Elizabeth is gone and the rest of us are not. The feeling of safety in that place has been shattered, but it was a reminder that safety is an absolute illusion. 

I’ve lived through horrible car accidents, head injuries, illness, threats. But I’ve also lived through waking and sleeping, going about my day, and acting as if my frail humanity is not reliant on God for every breath I take. Life isn’t safe. We pretend it is. But I might go to sleep tonight and not wake up. I might step in front of a bus, hit my head too hard, or catch an incurable disease. 

Removing the illusion of safety is enough to make you cry and stop living, to sit inside your house and panic. Life isn’t safe. The ONLY assurance I have in this life is that it is held by the God who aligns planets and breathes out galaxies, who unbelievably cares for me too. I know that when that day comes when life’s lack of safety catches up to me, I’ll be home with Him. Do you know Him? I pray you do. Life isn’t safe. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Please run to your Creator.”

Have a great July. I’ll see you next month.