When I look back on 2013, it feels surprisingly full, and I am so thankful for that. But I am also feeling the need to rest. I see the ‘one word’ exercise as a conversation between this year and the last, which is why this year’s word is ‘retreat’.
We sing our songs, and we think of a gentle mist, but the way that God’s righteousness comes is through a storm, through the sharp smacking of water and air onto a shocked and complacent earth.
I was too ill to speak to anyone, so they could not love through words or presence.
Our church loved us with food and ironed clothes.
Waiting for Jesus is something we do as we go about our daily lives. It is not an airport lounge. It’s a very long third trimester.
We too are refugees. We travel and pass through this world, but it is not our home (1 Pet 1). Even our bodies, they are not permanent, they are our temporary, make-shift accommodation (2 Cor 5).
We wait for Christ’s return, living in the in-between, without knowing when it will be. To wait is to surrender our control. To wait is to trust in God.
We were at the back of the hall, both of us, huddled up, our backs against the wall. Her coat smelt faintly of the secret cigarette she’d smoked before she came in.
This is a book for the lonely, for the cynic, for the weary and burnt-out Christian. When We Were on Fire is a memoir about Addie Zierman’s spiritual journey from being ‘on fire’ to becoming burnt out, and the subsequent restoration of her faith and identity.