ISBC 46 - Stay in the Storm
The last chapter of Hope: A User's Manual
This is one of my favorite photos from the last three months.
It was from the same morning that gave the background to the collage of sunrises on August 4. But during that sunrise, Scout was sitting alongside me as we took in that remarkable sight emerging from the horizon. I don’t know what Scout was seeing in that moment or whether she was just sitting next to me because I sat down. But of course there needed to be a photograph. I didn’t plan the framing per se but what resulted was a photo that speaks so much to me.
What stands out to me about this photo is that Scout is not in the already of the emerging light. She’s in the not-yet. Yet she is looking toward the already even in the not yet.
If there’s one theme that stands out from MaryAnn’s book to me it is the truth of the already but not yet. Hope isn’t about being on the other side of the struggles. Hope is how we are living in and moving through all that life can bring.
One of the most well-known passages in the Bible about hope comes from Romans 5:4 which says, “...and not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,” The way that reads, it feels like hope is the end product of afflictions, endurance, and then character. If I was able to have a conversation with Paul, the writer of Romans, I would push back about how my life experience doesn’t feel like these are bullet points (a) to (d) but instead they can all be in there together. Hope can be what we find in the midst of those times. Hope can be what we proclaim in those times. Hope can be what we cling to in those times. Hope can be what sustains us in those times. Hope can be what we long for in those times. Hope can be what we can look back and see in those times.
I use the words, “can be” very deliberately there. It isn’t a guarantee that we will experience hope in those times or that we can look back and see hope in those times and it isn’t a guarantee that we will move from afflictions to endurance to character to hope. But it can be there and often is there when we are intentional about seeking it.
In this final chapter, MaryAnn returns to the trials she shared about throughout the book, especially with their daughter. These sentences especially resonated with me.
During that storm, I realized how much “hope” and “endure” had in common. I would ride out the hurricane, no matter how long it lasted. I would keep turning that doorknob.1.
I have been in moments like that both in my own life and with others. But centering on my own story, I’ve been in the places of the shadow. I’ve been where Scout is in this photo where I see something new and different that is ahead but yet feels impossibly far away.2 In those years, I wanted to get to a new place but it felt so so so so so distant and I wondered whether I would ever get there. I was in the middle of the not yet longing for the already.
In the last decade that has passed,I have come to a new place but it didn’t come without a LOT of hard personal and internal and external work. It didn’t happen fully without many changes, some of which were personal choices and some that came about through the trajectory my life has taken the last 10 years. It also required leaning into the support and love and wisdom of others - a practice of living the truth that I am not alone, which can be very hard for Enneagram 5s to do. I had to realize that there were people right alongside me just like Scout and I taking in that sunrise. There were people who wanted to support, to love, to care, to help, to play, to laugh, to cry, all of it - I just needed to let them in.
But I’m still in the storm. I am not, and I don’t believe ever will be, “fully healed.” I know that if I slip back to old practices, there’s a good chance that I’ll fall back into the places of shadow. I know that when I start pushing others away, I know that the rowing through the storm gets a lot harder, if not impossible. It is why this line from this final chapter speaks so deeply to me.
But we stay with it. We stay in the storm, hard as it is, because that’s where love requires us to be. Riding out the storm together is why we are here.3
We stay with it. We stay in the storm. Where love requires us to be. Riding out the storm together. It is why we are here.
And that’s why, in closing, I go to another image. Back in June as I reflected on 25 years of serving as a pastor, I shared about John August Swanson’s painting, The Storm. A print of it is framed in our living room at home.
My wife chose this painting as her celebration gift when she finished her doctoral program. We love so much about it. We love the colors (the blues, purples, reds, oranges, and greens (many of which are also in the photo of Scout). We love the unique style that is so emblematic of John August Swanson’s other works. But most of all, it reminds us that we’re in the boat together and we need to row together - the two of us, the two of us with our children, and all of us with others. I also love how the painting can be seen as a difficult storm (big waves, wind, etc) but also a scene of great comfort and peace because of the colors chosen and the patterns of the circles and curls. With all of it, it is a painting of hope.4
There’s a lot that has taken place in the last three months since I started these reflections and I don’t need to recount all of them, but wow it has been a lot. And yet, we’re still rowing. Rowing in, with, and toward hope.
Thank you MaryAnn for such an amazing book that has fed my spirit so deeply and I know has fed the spirits and life of many others as well. Thank you for your vulnerability and courage in what you shared. Thank you for helping me see hope in such wider, deeper, and more honest ways.5 As well, if you found her work meaningful as well, head over to her substack page, subscribe, and thank her directly.
Thank you for being on this journey with me as well. I have been richly blessed by the comments both made publicly here as well as the direct messages folks have sent. I am always humbled to hear that the things I put out in the world are somehow, some way resonating with folks. Thank you.
Grace, Peace, Love, and Joy,
Ed
Some Reflections on the Technicals of The Scout Photo
I am not bragging here but this photo feels very much like one of my most perfectly composed photos. In one respect it follows what is known as the “rule of thirds.” The orange light is along the line between the first and second thirds and Scout’s head is on the line between the second and third. At the same time, it centers on Scout as her snoot is not along the thirds but along the center line. It makes it clear that she’s the subject of the photo even as a larger context is present in the photo with the sunrise. It is also focused in such a way that emphasizes Scout as the subject. The background is out of focus in what is known as bokeh, where the background is blurred while the subject is in sharp focus. And finally it is exposed such that the details of Scout’s face and fur are clear but they don’t stand out to take away from the contrast of colors in the sky. Again, I don’t share this like “wow - look at how amazing I am” but instead to share this as an example of several key things in photography composition. And the really cool thing with this is that there was very minimal post-processing to the photo - this is pretty much how it came out. It also somewhat just “happened” - I didn’t spend much time at all getting all this together - it just sort of happened. A beautiful happy accident.
McKibben Dana, MaryAnn. Hope: A User's Manual (p. 190). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition
Just a side note here - one of the things that I experienced on one particular occasion when a new wave of depression came over me was waking up one morning and feeling like all the color had gone out of life - it was a physical experience of the vibrancy of life having disappeared. In that sense, I also think of our understanding of how dogs don’t see colors to the depth that we do. Of course they experience the world in ways (scent and hearing) that are far beyond what we experience as humans.
McKibben Dana, MaryAnn. Hope: A User's Manual (p. 191). Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co.. Kindle Edition.
Here is a beautiful description of the painting and the meaning behind it in Swanson’s words. https://johnaugustswanson.com/catalog/the-storm-2020/
MaryAnn, thank you for all the geeky references too!
I’m so excited for your trip and for what will emerge for you through that pilgrimage!
I have enjoyed your remarks very much. And that photo is dynamite. Yes, you hit all the high points in that one. Truly blessed.