Thursday Things #132

Snacks and stories and songs.

Every other Thursday, I share a handful of good things I'm loving, reading, watching, listening to or just discovered. AKA the random good stuff we’d talk about over coffee or text if we had one another’s phone number. I'm glad you're here!

The combo of these two feels right on track for the month of May:

I need you to know that I wrote out “Somehow, though, we are here and doing the next thing in front of us, making it one moment at a time. And that’s plenty. Good job—for real.”

But then I re-read it for typos and burst into sudden laughter at “ma(y)king it one moment at a time” and this is the current state of my brain.

We should probably just get on with the Good Things, yes? 😂

We have an S-theme for this week’s Thursday Things, but before the snacks and stories and songs (sorry not sorry if you need tissues), a quick quiz . . .

Friendship quiz.

Shocking exactly no one, I’m Diana Barry.

image source

You know from previous Thursday Things emails that I’m fully convinced Kristen Strong is one of the very best humans and friends. Her newest book (Desperate Woman Seeks Friends¹) released this week (highly recommend picking up a copy) but I wanted to share her “fictional friend” quiz with you today, since I know I’m not the only one here who appreciates a fun quiz.

Which person did you get?

Dot’s.

You know when you’ve finished dinner and you settle in to watch a show or read a book, and you think “I need just a little something sweet…” but then you have a small treat and suddenly you want something salty or with a little bit of crunch? And you just go back and forth for who knows what reason?

Maybe it’s just me. But—if you’ve found yourself in the same ridiculous loop, this new find is proving to be my current combo-solution to the after dinner snack: Dot’s Homestyle Pretzels Cinnamon Sugar Seasoned Pretzel Twists

Stories x3.

A story from me + two posts from other writers that I immediately saved and keep going back to re-read, each with story woven into the words . . .

katecbowler

A post shared by @katecbowler

(All the slides but especially the last line.)

jenniferdukeslee

A post shared by @jenniferdukeslee

(Full disclosure, I make most of JDL’s graphics so it feels a little funky to share my work here, but I’m pointing you to the words—her words—and I have zero hesitation about that. I gasped when I read the lines that became slide 5. It’s not “new news” but it hit in such a clear and precise way that I can’t stop thinking about it. (If you enjoy reading fiction and losing track of time because you’ve been swept up into a story, it may have the same impact on you.))

Even just from the preview below, you can quickly see this post from yours truly ties in with the message of Kate’s blessing ^ . . .

Did you catch the two black and white photos that bookend a story that’s still being told? ;)

There’s no beautiful bow.

(Yet.)

If my current page of this situation proves to be the final page, there’s no happy ending.

(But: “The story isn’t over if the story isn’t good.”²)

To pull from the post, the “battle” hasn’t ended and the sun is still blazing. In this storyline? It’s been winter for a really, really long time.

(And still, we have a good God who happens to also be a Gardener. And sure, you could say that’s a cliche, but when you’re watching and waiting and watching and waiting for spring, it turns out to be an anchor. A lighthouse. A song in the night and a promise to hold to, words that remain while you wait for the turning of the page.)

Sometimes? While you watch and wait? Winter holds on but so does someone, or maybe two someones, who hold up your hands . . . and then you get to turn around and do the same for them.

And in some small way, maybe you’re welcoming a hint of spring, together.

As sure as the snow and the spring.

On that note, this new lullaby from Christy Nockels subtly goes through the seasons. Maybe one to play on repeat in the background as you fall asleep?

“It’s hard to catch your breath inside a tomb.”

Between the song title and the artist, I should have just automatically assumed I would need Kleenex for this one.

Just—oof. Hands open, tears falling, amen.

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I feel the pull to tie this up nicely, to not end with a song titled “In The Dark”, but I refuse. Instead, for you somewhere in the middle, you who are waiting and watching for spring, you who are praying for the page to turn and begging for beauty in the ashes, you who need a lighthouse in the storm but you’d be grateful for even a small nightlight in the pitch black—I won’t leave you on a lighter note . . . I’ll just say I see you in the dark.

And you are not alone.

“Even when all the lights go out”, until the tomb becomes a womb, you are held and loved.

Spring will come. But until it does, maybe we can pull up a stone for one another, tell the true stories and hum the melodies, our hands holding steady until sunset. 💛

1. I am not an Amazon affiliate, but I do use my Bookshop affiliate link when mentioning a good read!

2. This is a lyric from Cory Asbury’s song The Father’s House.