Sarahbeth Caplin's Blog, page 48

This is the story I will wrestle with forever

I think I have, as blogger Libby Anne put it so succinctly, salvation anxiety.

I think about all the people growing up in isolated religious bubbles being taught that this way is the only way to faith (yes, I’m using “faith” as a verb). Meanwhile, 90% of all the other Christian denominations are insisting they’re doing it wrong.

And the most tragic thing is that those people won’t find out they did it wrong until after they die, and then it’s too late to change anything.

Maybe I’m doing it all wrong, too.

I just reread Still: Notes on a Mid-faith Crisis by Lauren Winner. She’s one of those authors whose books tell me new things each time I read them, and this re-reading was no different. She writes, “The reason I still continue calling myself a Christian is because this narrative of faith says more of who I am than anything else.”

I sat in my library chair turning those words over and over in my mind. Who I am, who I am…what does that mean, exactly?

I thought about how I wish, just once, I could go off on somebody who gleefully exclaims, “God made my cancer disappear!” It says something about the depth of my own wickedness that I have literally had to walk away to keep from doing this, because my own father’s death is still so raw. On one hand, maybe I would be justified in doing so, as I’m still in that first-year grieving period, and you can get away with all kinds of things by blaming your actions on grief. On the other hand, I couldn’t do that to someone who has received the best possible news, because remission is no small thing, and I don’t want to be that person who enjoys pissing in other people’s Cheerios.

But the temptation is still there, which makes me think, Woman, you really do need Jesus.

And so I stay. It’s not in my nature to just walk away from something that invokes all kinds of questions. I’m that plucky little person to keep on pressing, keep on challenging, because simple, pat answers do not placate me, and only when I have the raw truth will I give up, no matter how unpleasant it might be.

To paraphrase Winner, when I was baptized, I was not promising to believe this story forever. Rather, I was promising that this is the story I will wrestle with forever.

***

If you liked this post, check out my memoir, Confessions of a Prodigal Daughter.

Filed under: Religion, Writing & Publishing Tagged: Author Sarahbeth Caplin, cancer, Christian culture, Christianity, Confessions of a Prodigal Daughter, evangelicals, grief

When agenda writes your novel

I firmly believe that writing is a vital part of healing from trauma, but not all writing that heals is meant to be published. At least not right away.

Despite being accepted by Booktrope for re-publication, I’ve decided that my first novel, Someone You Already Know, is no longer a story I feel passionate about. Told from the perspective of two teenage girls who experienced different forms of rape – one from a boyfriend, the other from a stranger – the girls struggle to understand what the other went through, albeit through biased lenses. While there is no such thing as a universal True Victim, I have met rape survivors who think if it didn’t happen to someone else exactly as it happened to them, it wasn’t really rape.

And then there’s the problem of not being taken seriously by the police, by family and friends, by the public at large. The book was written to address misconceptions and outright lies that even intelligent and otherwise “good” people believe about rape and assault.

It may sound compelling, and sure enough, the majority of reviews on Amazon seem to agree. The problem is what I see when I read it – to me, it’s driven more by agenda than plot. The majority of the book takes place in the girls’ heads, or in their interactions with each other, but not with many of their peers. The character John, the abusive boyfriend, is rather one-dimensional. His motives remain unclear throughout, which is not how the best “villain” characters are written.

The best villains, I think, are the ones with pasts and fleshed-out personalities. They are not evil for evil’s sake. At times, you might even empathize with them, and then find yourself wondering what the hell is wrong with you. Such was the case when I read Gone Girl and watched Breaking Bad. Those had villains that made me think.

Education and empathy with survivors were goals in writing this book, but if I’m completely honest, I also wanted the chance to vilify the real John – the one who will never, ever be arrested for what he did. The one who will never see a day in court, never be forced to come to terms with what he did by law enforcement.

I wanted to tell the world what he did without actually telling the world what he did, and fiction seemed like the perfect way to do it. The book is scattered with details that wouldn’t crucify his public image, but would be familiar to him if he ever read it (which I know he never would; that would require actually caring, which he no longer does): the gift he brought back for me from a vacation to Europe. His major in college. His black dog. None of which really served any purpose to the story as a whole.

Many chapters read like that of a recently traumatized, beyond furious, deeply depressed woman, and that’s not the reputation I want as an author. That is not how stories should be written. Good stories have depth, and this one, after re-reading it this week, just doesn’t. I can’t look at the Amazon reviews and believe otherwise, because as the author, this book has to something that I am proud of.

It was a good first attempt, but as far as rape stories go, I am far prouder of my next novel from Booktrope. A Stunning Accusation is, in my opinion, more maturely written, and says more about who I am as a writer and what I can do with words. There is mystery, suspense, and the accused villain has a backstory and appealing qualities that should make the reader feel drawn to him and ask questions the whole way through, as his girlfriend Adelaide does. It’s a book that raises points without beating the reader over the head with them. It’s a book I am proud to call mine.

Someone You Already Know has been removed from Createspace, but there are still third-party copies sold on Amazon if anyone is still curious to check it out. And I am so thrilled to announce that the rest of my book babies got interior makeovers from JT Formatting and are so beautiful. I hope you take the time to check them out.

Filed under: Rape Culture, Writing & Publishing Tagged: Author Sarahbeth Caplin, Controversy, depression, grief, rape culture, self-publishing, Writing

Why I don’t fit in, and why that’s a good thing

I’m blogging over at Patheos today. I was more than a little surprised that my friend Neil at Godless in Dixie would ask me, a Christian, to write a guest post for his blog about being atheist in the South, but I seized the opportunity because interfaith discussions are vital to the future of all faiths (as well as the safety and understanding of those who don’t adhere to any religious faith). It pains me that even mentioning the word “Christian” can conjure up false assumptions and even trigger bad memories for many people. I hope to change some of those assumptions with this post.

***

Despite the shiny, new toy appeal of faith when I became a Christian in college, I was reluctant to ever wear a cross around my neck like so many of my friends did. Doing so meant that certain assumptions would be made: that I was probably raised a Christian, that the cultural components of Christianity were as ingrained in my daily life as breathing, and sadly, that my view of the world at large and of those who believed differently than I did was ignorant and narrow.

Most importantly, a cross around my neck would conceal one aspect of my identity that I don’t share with most people I know: that I was raised Jewish.

When I meet atheists today (or non-religious people in general), they often doubt me when I say I understand what it’s like to be a minority. I completely understand their confusion: Christianity in the United States is everywhere from the Pledge of Allegiance, imprints on our currency, sale of alcohol on Sundays in some places, and so much more. I can barely wrap my head around it. From where they sit, it seems like American cultural norms were catered specifically for my ilk, and they are absolutely right.

Read the rest here.

Filed under: Religion Tagged: Campus Crusade for Christ, Christian culture, Christianity, evangelicals, grief, Judaism

How to be the kind of woman I approve of, because that’s the only kind there is

I doubt I’ll ever have the chutzpah to write a how-to book on anything, even if peddling myself as an expert on something might earn me better sales. Clearly, the all-knowing title How to be a Woman by Caitlin Moran is meant to grab people’s attention, and sure enough, it worked. But if it were honest, it would have been called “How to be Caitlin Moran, Who Also Happens to be a Woman.”

It’s a book I’m glad I read, but can’t say I’d ever want to read again. I’m glad I read it because I occasionally like to buy books from authors I already know I’ll disagree with on a number of issues. Regardless of your views on abortion, too many people form their opinion without personally experiencing it for themselves or talking to anyone who has, so the chapter about Moran’s abortion was eye-opening (though it did grieve me that it was easier for her to decide on having an abortion than how to remodel her kitchen. Maybe I was wrong in assuming that most women don’t decide on abortion lightly? Hey – I learned something).

But it also occurred to me just how un-feminist it is to tell other women how to be feminist, which is not an easy thing for me to admit. I wish more women saw pornography as degrading and unhealthy; I wish more women would stop using their looks as a means to get ahead. But that’s me assuming that women who think differently didn’t come to those viewpoints using their own free agency. I’ve been prone to thinking, She must have been abused – that’s why she thinks she can find worth in porn. She must have had shallow parents – that’s why she thinks her body is her greatest asset. What a shock it was to me that some people can disagree simply because they disagree.

So it was with some annoyance that I plodded through Moran’s book, feeling forced to swallow the notions that being feminist = being pro pornography (as long as no one is being coerced or trafficked), having strict guidelines on maintaining pubic hair, tasting my own menstrual blood (full-on judging for that one: who does that?!), eschewing high heels, naming your vagina, believing that stripping is bad, but somehow burlesque dancing is the Pinnacle of Empowerment. That doesn’t make her much different than The Patriarchy telling women they were designed for certain roles. A little more emphasis on a woman’s right to free agency over her own life choices would have been nice.

I get that, for posterity’s sake, feminism has to have some kind of definition that is more or less stagnant; mine is “believing in the inherent worth and dignity of all women, and that they should have the same rights and privileges afforded to men.” But even as general and non-specific as I think that answer is, it’s going to sound like preaching to somebody, which puts me in an awkward place between making the label my own and saying “screw it” to anyone who doesn’t like it, or calling myself something else altogether, because the original label has become too tainted.

Filed under: Feminism, Writing & Publishing Tagged: Abortion, Caitlin Moran, Controversy, Feminism, How to be a Woman

Weekly #BeWow challenge: my best writing friends live in my laptop

Next for #BeWow Wednesday, a weekly blogshare of positive posts, I’m thinking about my best accomplishments since my first book was published. I’d love to say I’ve been on a best-seller’s list since the first edition in 2012, but reality demands I set my sights on smaller goals.

Really, though, I always tell people what a mistake it is to write solely for money. If that’s what you’re after, I’d suggest ghost-writing for a celebrity (as long as you’re okay with not getting any credit). When it comes down to it, what I’m most grateful for in my publishing journey are the relationships I’ve made along the way. If money was my only goal, I’d be sorely disappointed.

Through writing (and Twitter, blogging, Google-plusing) I’ve made friends here in Colorado and as far away as the UK and Australia. I don’t know if I’m ever going to meet half of these people in real life, but I did meet one Colorado writing friend after emailing and texting for several months. It was at a Halloween party, of all things, for which my husband and I were dressed as Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. He kept asking me during the three-hour drive, “So you mean you’ve never met this person before? Are you sure she’s not a serial killer?”

Needless to say, she was not a serial killer, and we hit it off at the party like we’d been friends for years, which was so incredible (disclaimer: I wouldn’t advise meeting online friends for the first time in their homes – I only did so that time because we happened to have a mutual friend. I typically meet online friends for the first time in public places, like coffee shops, and I never get into strangers’ cars – just throwing that out there. The friend who officiated at my wedding is someone I met through blogging, so the internet really is a valuable source for meaningful relationships!).

Many newbie writers think the best way to sell books is to keep slamming people with buy links on every social media platform in existence, and I used to be one of those people. I only stopped when I realized how damn annoying it was when other writers did it to me. You get a direct message from somebody on Twitter and think, “Oooh! A message just for me!” only to find it’s a canned, generic “Thanks for following! Check out this link to all my books!” It’s impersonal, and makes me think of preachers going door-to-door with tracts, acting like they want to be your friend, but if you neglect to show an interest in their church, they don’t want anything to do with you.

It sounds like a Catch-22: relationships are the key to selling books, but you never want to form relationships just to sell more books. There is a Golden Rule of Networking that we’ve all heard before: give to others, and they will give back to you. Writers, I’ve found, are a genuinely caring group of people who want to see each other succeed. Thankfully, publishing is an industry in which many people can thrive at the top, so we’re not competing against each other; there’s no reason to. I still get those auto-DMs on Twitter, but annoying as they are, the senders will figure out eventually that that’s not the way to go. Numbers and sales figures aren’t everything, but they do talk. And mine are telling me that I owe the success I’ve achieved to my growing online community.

So that’s what I’m thankful for this week. And since this is a touchy-feely-warm-and-fuzzy post, here’s a picture of a sleeping kitten:

Filed under: Writing & Publishing Tagged: #BeWow, Author Sarahbeth Caplin, cats, Indie Author Life, self-publishing, Writing

Ugly actions, ugly selves?

Most of the time, one incident does not define a person’s entire character. And then there are times when an incident can say a lot about a person’s character.

I’ve been thinking about this dichotomy ever since the above video started trending on social media, where sports reporter Britt McHenry berates an employee as she pays for her impounded vehicle. The insults are horrifyingly racist, classist, and degrading.

Bad moment, or example of true character? It’s one thing to be annoyed by the inconvenience of having your car towed. But for those kinds of insults to come out so easily…maybe that does indicate a superiority complex.

And then there are times when one bad day can bring out the worst in us, and no one wants to be remembered for that.

I remember sweeping the floor at Panera while a co-worker helped a customer who ordered a dozen bagels. She wanted each one sliced, but complained that they weren’t sliced right. So we sliced her some new bagels, which still weren’t good enough. The old ones would be wasted, which pissed me off too.

That lady was one of those customers where nothing we did was good enough – the kind that makes me want to never work any kind of customer service job ever again. But after paying, she sighed and said, “Look, I know I was rude. I shouldn’t have acted like that. But my husband just died, I have a house full of relatives, and I need to bring them breakfast before the calling hours.” And then she started to cry.

And in less than five seconds I went from wanting to punch her in the face to wanting to reach across the counter to hug her. If it were up to me, I would have given her the bagels for free. It takes humility to own up to bad behavior, and I respected her for that.

And then there are my own less-than-courteous moments, like that one time I intimidated another couple at a piano bar. Or at the doctor’s office eight months ago, when Dad was weeks away from death, and I knew that was the time to get back on anxiety pills. One of the techs was someone I went to high school with, and when she asked about the purpose of my visit, I panicked and snapped, “I want to talk to someone else.” But in a small town like mine, when I’d been going to the same doctor since I was eight and my dad was on a first-name basis with the entire staff, I guess my behavior was understood. But I couldn’t let myself go home without finding that woman to apologize for being an ass.

Maybe that’s the ultimate distinction between a bad moment and a sign of a major character flaw: the willingness to own up to it and choke down humble pie. Maybe, in the wake of the social media shit-storm, Britt McHenry will issue an apology. But there will be some who will see it as a PR stunt to save face, and in the end, no amount of kinder words will be enough to make up for it. I understand the temptation to sweep a stupid episode under a rug and pretend it never happened, because it’s easier. And we’ve all done it at some point.

The pressure only increases when you claim to be a Christian (or any religion that espouses compassion, which I suppose is all of them). It’s one reason why I’ll never have one of those fish decals on my car – not that I don’t try to be a courteous driver, but for the times I’m not, I don’t want any charges of hypocrisy thrown at me.

Filed under: Other stuff Tagged: Christian culture, Christianity, Controversy, customer service, depression, grief

The things that terrify me

I’ve had a phobia of trains since I was little. I grew up in a house near train tracks, and when the horn went off late at night, it scared me enough to wet the bed. But subways are worse – they’re underground (so no easy escape), there are no bathrooms, they can be filled with creepy people (I watch a lot of Law and Order), they make me claustrophobic.

Which brings me, naturally, to claustrophobia: I hate elevators, airplanes (actually, claustrophobia is the least of my issues with airplanes), being sandwiched in large crowds, being hugged tightly by strangers. Not having enough personal space reminds me of being trapped under the weight of a person who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

Which brings me to yet another fear: people who make sexist, racist, and other discriminatory jokes and comments, and don’t understand why they are hurtful. I fear the casualties of willful ignorance.

But the kinds of people who terrify me most are extremists of any kind: liberal, conservative, religious fundamentalist, anti-theist, whatever. In a way, I envy the certainty they have; their confidence that the world functions exactly the way they think it does, and anyone who doesn’t see it that way is stupid.

Granted, I can be that way too: I think it’s painfully obvious that women can be gifted with leadership and might just be better at it than some men. I think it’s painfully apparent that no one “asks” to get raped; that legalizing gay marriage is not the gateway to legalizing relationships with children, cats, or anyone/anything incapable of consenting. Among many other things.

Experiences have the power to shape us more than anything else – I firmly believe this. Some experiences can’t help but influence you: ask any solider, teacher, medical professional, or crime victim. And no amount of research and head knowledge can make you understand if you haven’t experienced it yourself – whatever “it” may be.

I know, because I used to judge women who stayed in abusive relationships until I became one of those women.

I know, because I thought all Christians had bigoted agendas until I became one.

I am terrified of people who are completely closed off to learning anything new; who are afraid of being challenged, and will never admit that it’s because their beliefs are too shallow to handle the slightest amount of dissention. So they lobby to pass laws that could force everyone to act their way – it’s easier than trying to understand the unfamiliar. I find it inconceivable that someone who thinks for themselves can be so intimidating to some people.

I am terrified of those whose certainty closes their minds so tightly that no amount of compassion or empathy can slip through.

I fear that once you lose that, you lose everything.

Filed under: Feminism, Other stuff, Rape Culture, Religion Tagged: censorship, Christian culture, Christianity, Controversy, evangelicals, Feminism

I judge people by their books

Most people, if they’re honest, will admit they judge others for something, even if they aren’t “supposed” to. Whether it’s a particular kind of haircut, poor grammar, or collection of bumper stickers, we all have something that fills our heads with potentially false, though not necessarily baseless assumptions.

I judge people by their books – especially if they don’t have them. I’m that person you’ll find at house parties squatting by the living room bookshelf (because introducing myself and making small talk are not my spiritual gifts), looking for titles I’m familiar with, or titles that say something about the owner’s view of the world and personal identity.

Not too long ago I made a post on my Facebook page asking people to share a handful of titles that say something about their personalities. These were mine:

You may notice that most homes have a Bible, whether they are religious or not. I wonder if this is to say something about the cultural importance of faith: it’s one thing to not believe in it, but it’s essential to make people think that you do. Or maybe some families have heirloom Bibles. I’ve seen shelves containing heirloom classics and first editions, but in most cases, they are intended for display, not to actually be read.

Of course, I’m well aware that people will judge me for my books, too. I wholeheartedly welcome this; I have read every single book I own, and am prepared to justify owning a few that serve no purpose except to mindlessly entertain (we all have those – it’s okay). I won’t judge people for owning the entire Twilight series, but if those are the only books they own…well, then maybe a little.

I’m aware that some titles in my shelves seem a little contradictory. What assumptions can you make about a person who owns two books about women’s reproductive rights that completely oppose each other?

 

Truthfully, I enjoyed reading both kinds of books. I have agreements and disagreements with both, but I am a firm believer in being educated about both sides of an issue. Both books were helpful in eliminating ignorance about the values of each side. But I’m still somewhere in between.

And then there’s my collection of Jewish and Christian books, with shelves right on top of each other. I guess it’s safe to assume I’m just really into religion, or have a spiritual identity crisis (and both would be correct).

Then there are shelves of YA and Adult fiction titles, which could indicate I’m still an awkward teenage girl trapped in an adult’s body (that still looks like it belongs to a teenage girl). Or maybe it is evident that I write this genre, since there’s another shelf of books about writing both kinds of fiction.

Whatever assumptions people might make, it’s always good fodder for conversation.

But I must confess…when I see shelves filled with blockbuster “It Book” titles – think Gossip Girl, Divergent, or basically any book that is made into a TV show or movie – I get the impression that the owner isn’t really a devout reader, but likes to stay on top of what’s current. Which isn’t bad, but it doesn’t tell me this person loves reading for reading’s sake.

If a shelf has blockbuster titles with a smattering of classics like Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, or Great Gatsby, I wonder if this person wants to be seen as fun and intellectual, but those classic titles don’t fool me. We all read those in high school, otherwise they likely never would have been bought. And if the person’s name is scrawled on the inside, that’s a dead giveaway.

So I know I can’t be the only one who does this. What assumptions do YOU make about people based on their books (or other things)?

Filed under: Feminism, Other stuff, Religion, Writing & Publishing Tagged: Author Sarahbeth Caplin, banned books, Facebook, Feminism, Writing

Moving memoirs and renewing my love of YA

To celebrate the completion of editing my first book for Booktrope, I treated myself to an afternoon of reading. Actually, since it was Easter, I pretty much read the entire weekend. And it was glorious.

Plenty of people buy books out of boredom, as a way to pass the time – particularly while meandering through airports. I tend to only purchase books I plan on reading over and over again; the kind that tell me different things each time. Ever read a book like that?

One of those books for me is Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther. One reason I find this book so compelling is because our upbringings could not be any more opposite: to be raised in a cult by parents who were utterly obsessed with preparing for the End Times is so unfathomable to me, having been raised by liberal Jewish parents who considered rooting against the New York Yankees to be the only unforgivable sin.

I love this book because it’s relevant for anyone with degrees of “Spiritual PTSD.” For me, it conjured up memories of the bible study girls in college who told me that my parents’ souls were my responsibility: God put them in my life so I could share the gospel with them. If I failed, it would be my burden to answer for on Judgment Day. To this day, when I hear similar teachings on this uncomfortable subject, I get queasy. I wouldn’t say I was ever brainwashed in the cult-like way that Esther was, but I was definitely peer-pressured, and more emphasis was put on evangelism than personal growth in my early days as a Christian. Esther’s book is a reminder that healing and healthy spirituality is possible, even if it takes work.

Attachments by Rainbow Rowell: Every now and then I take breaks from YA fiction in exchange for Adult Fiction – the kind of books I feel I should be reading, for some odd reason. But it takes a book like this to remind myself of why I prefer YA, and probably always will: it’s just so fun. I loved the quirkiness of all the characters in this book, and the twist of telling a “chick lit” story from a male perspective. It was well done, though I had my doubts after Eleanor and Park, which I liked, but didn’t love. Also, one main character’s name is Beth. She has some stalkerish tendencies that made me think, That is not okay, but overall I liked her.

Wearing God by Lauren Winner: I’m only halfway through with this one, and I’m already thinking of rating it three stars. I hate to give anything less than four stars to a Lauren Winner book, because I love her writing, her insights, and her unabashed book nerdiness. I reread Girl Meets God every year because we have almost the same ‘testimony,’ and I can easily imagine us bonding over coffee at an indie coffee shop.

But sadly, this book is just not doing anything for me. There are occasional insights that make me think – there can’t not be, because it’s Lauren Winner after all – but this is just, for lack of a better word, a very odd book. Of all the topics she could write about, I’m not sure why she chose relating to God over smell and taste, with pages and pages devoted to the history of bread-making and different kinds of wine used for communion. It’s an interesting approach to spirituality, but if anyone other than Winner wrote this, I never would have purchased it.

Up next: How to Save a Life by Sara Zarr

Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist

To re-read: The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

What books are speaking to you lately? What books do you like to read over and over again? And do you have needy pets who complain you read too much? If a fuzzy critter wanders into my library, she will get read to. I think this is Zoey’s way of telling me she’s had enough.

Filed under: Other stuff, Religion, Writing & Publishing Tagged: cats, Christian culture, Christianity

A redemption story just in time for Easter weekend

A funny thing happened last night. When I finally got home after sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for two hours, I found a letter on the kitchen table announcing that I got into grad school.

It’s not the first time I’ve received a letter like this, but I quit after a year once I realized both the school and the concentration I picked were not for me. $30,000 flushed down the drain. I not only felt like a failure, I also had no idea what I was going to do with my life if I was no longer earning a counseling degree.

It was Dad’s idea to give grad school another chance, this time with a concentration I know I’m passionate about – and reasonably good at. Though let’s face it, a self-employed writer doesn’t really need a master’s degree. It’s a worthwhile endeavor to me because it will help me become a better writer. And better writers tend to sell more books, which is never a bad thing.

But with a debt $30,000 deep, there was no way I could afford to even dream about it. It’s only because Dad requested to help me pay that loan with his life insurance money that I was able to give grad school another chance.

He believed in me, that crazy man.

So coincidentally (or not?), I found out about my acceptance on Maundy Thursday, and today – Good Friday – is a day when everything seemed hopeless, and the suffering too deep to comprehend. The weekend will end with Easter, a day for contemplating the beautiful things that can come out of deep suffering. That seems to be a recurring theme in my life, and as I continue grappling with the pieces of my broken faith and try to seek answers, things like this keep happening. And not just to me.

Because of the complications with cancer, Dad retired much earlier than planned, which opened the opportunity to coach high school track on a volunteer basis: his real dream job.

Only because of my brief but painful time spent at a school that challenged me in all the wrong ways did I meet the woman who is one of my closest friends in Colorado.

Similarly, during my time spent in a ministry that I learned too late was not an ideal place for “baby believers” like myself, I met the man who is now my husband.

I have plenty more examples, but you get the point.

I go back and forth about whether there’s such a thing as a coincidence, and if prayers can be answered in tangible ways. But in the midst of events like these, I’m convinced a little more that redemption is a real and powerful thing.

Filed under: Other stuff, Religion, Writing & Publishing Tagged: Author Sarahbeth Caplin, cancer, Christian culture, Christianity, grief, Writing