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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Jen Hatmaker
Started reading
February 12, 2018
It can be difficult to envision a new start but impossible to deny one.
It is incredibly tempting to disparage people who didn’t “change” with us. I have criticized the words of others when the same words came out of my own mouth just two years earlier, which is incredibly un-self-aware. Human insecurity wants everyone right where we are, in
What is right for us may not be right for everyone, and we don’t have to burn down the house simply because we’ve moved our things out.
At what point parents began accepting the disgruntlements of seventh graders as a factual State of the Union,
I cannot think of a greater burden than imagining God’s perpetual disappointment.
The thing is, God absolutely created us and His world with tastes and sights and sounds and connections designed to thrill. He thought up humor and laughter and delicious flavors coaxed from the earth. He gave us beautiful colors and dance and music and the gift of language. He invented apples and beaches and sex and baby lambs.
making sure our grossest, basest selves don’t overtake our character. A life spent entirely on pleasure is the emptiest of containers.
A Christian in tune with God’s whole character neither regards herself as too important or too unworthy to enjoy this
Each home we visited had at least one beautiful piece of fabric hanging on the wall. Even the most humble hosts offered coffee in lovely cups. Kids, really vulnerable kids, screeched and laughed as they played soccer up and down the streets. The whole town vibrated with Ethiopian music, Teddy Afro, the national favorite, aggressive and blaring and always too loud. The town square practically sizzled with the spicy smells of berbere and tibs and doro wat. In other words, they were also into beauty, food, fun, and music. Of course they were.
from Jesus. It will, choice by choice, take us further from the sound mind and place of power God carved out for us.
was so terrified that I forgot for a minute, but I remembered. It was such a comfort that I cried from relief. God is faithful. He can be trusted.
Isolation concentrates every struggle. The longer we keep our heartaches tucked away in the dark, the more menacing they become. Pulling them into the light among trusted people who love you is, I swear, 50 percent of the recovery process.
bought the lie of hyper-controlled parenting for a while, but all it produced was despair every time my kids fought or went off the script.
Women love always: when earth slips from them, they take refuge in heaven.
The redeemed would tell this love story with their lives because they’ve been told over and over that love is supreme, the most excellent way, the language of their tribe, the way of their God. They’ll know for sure to default to love. At least that part will remain clear through seismic changes across centuries and cultures.
If understood, believed, and lived out, God’s plan would naturally place Christians at the epicenter of their communities, like hope magnets, like soft places to fall, like living sanctuaries. We’d be coveted neighbors and trusted advocates, friends to all and enemies of none. Our reputation would precede us, and we would be such a joy to the world.
God did not order the Code Red, so we should not have this much blood on our hands.
is difficult for human beings to accept unearned mercy. It flies in the face of our merit-based system. We want to earn our goodwill; therefore, we want others to earn theirs.
Loved people love people. Forgiven people forgive people. Adored people adore people. Freed people free people. But when we are still locked in our own prisons, it is impossible to crave the liberation of others. Misery prefers company.
We need not fear that He will say, “You loved too greatly, too liberally, too generously, too shockingly.”
People may hate us because of Jesus, but they should never hate Jesus because of us. The way we treat others should lead them to only one conclusion: “If this is how Jesus loves, then I’m in.”
Two selfish people joining together for life is a miracle every time.
What we need here is words. Lots of words. Millions of words immediately. We will speak whatever words are in our heads, however half-baked, and eventually they will lead us to the end.
for him talking is the only way through conflict; silence or space isn’t time to sort things out—it is simply an unresolved black hole. The speaking part is essential to his process.
his urgency and expediency is wrapped in intensity. According to him, it is proactive; according to me, aggressive. His tone is intense, posture intense, language intense, emotions intense, volume of words intense.
never prioritize marriage over the healthy souls of the two individuals inside it; abuse, neglect, betrayal, violence—there are good and right reasons to leave sometimes. Not for one second do I think God would sacrifice your health, safety, or dignity on the altar of marriage. He did not create this beautiful mystery to protect an abuse of power.
Sometimes, I feel discriminated against, but it does not make me angry. It merely astonishes me. How can any deny themselves the pleasure of my company? It’s beyond me.
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. . . . Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies
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We want to win the Bicep Contest like her, not the Front Butt Contest we are currently winning in our pants.
The Peanut Butter and Banana One Again, you’ll get around four smoothies out of these quantities. Halve the recipe if you aren’t raising a small army. 4 cups coconut milk, almond milk, or cow’s milk 2 cups baby spinach 3 to 4 frozen bananas (we let bunches go brown every week, peel and halve them, and bag them in the freezer) 1 cup unsweetened plain Greek yogurt (or regular yogurt; Greek is just nice and thick) ½ cup peanut butter 2 tablespoons Nutella Blend the milk and spinach until smooth. Add the bananas and blend.
This also makes around three or four smoothies. We maybe pour a lot. Maybe this makes six where you live. I can’t know. Four of my five kids are teenagers right now, and it is like living with Olympic swimmers who have to eat 12,000 calories a day. 1 cup frozen unsweetened raspberries 1 cup frozen unsweetened strawberries 1½ cups unsweetened pineapple juice 2 cups vanilla yogurt Put it all in your blender and give it a whirl. If this is too tart for you, add a drizzle of honey. Yum.
Salad 2 tablespoons butter 1 package ramen noodles (like the $.13 package) ½ cup or so of chopped almonds Handful of sunflower seeds 4 to 6 cups sturdy lettuce (I like romaine) 2 cups or so of chopped broccoli Some chopped green onions You can add any crunchy thing: carrots, radishes, snap peas, cabbage Melt the butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add
the uncooked ramen noodles (break them all up), almonds, and sunflower seeds, and saute until toasted light brown. Maybe 3 to 4 minutes. Let cool. Pour the dressing (recipe below) into the bottom of your salad bowl. Add the lettuce, broccoli, green onions, and toasted crunch mix. Toss when ready to serve. Vinaigrette 4 tablespoons brown sugar 1 teaspoon salt 6 tablespoons rice wine vinegar 2 to 3 drops Tabasco ½ cup oil (olive, sunflower, walnut, whatever oil you like. Aunt Carol uses canola oil, so no need to get trendy) Mix all the vinaigrette
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1 (8-ounce) block cream cheese, softened 3 cups cooked, shredded chicken (I always buy the grocery store rotisserie bird) 1 cup buffalo wing sauce (any kind you like) 1 cup blue cheese dressing* 1 (8-ounce) tub blue cheese crumbles (if you’re scared, use Cheddar, but COME ON, BRO) Options for dippers: chips, crackers, celery sticks, crostini, slider rolls, whatever man. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spread the softened cream cheese in the bottom of a square baking dish. In a bowl, mix the shredded chicken with the wing sauce and blue cheese dressing
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BACON-WRAPPED STUFFED DATES I cannot even with these. I cannot even, and I cannot odd. I actually think these are a sin. I’m sorry, Lord, but I need these in my mouth. And may I bless with heavenly blessings the first pioneer who decided to make cheese out of a mama goat’s lactation. The following quantities make about a pan full, but by all means, double this bad boy if you’re feeding a big crew. 1-pound tub pitted dates 1-pound package bacon, cut in half or thirds (not thick-cut bacon)
4-ounce log fresh goat cheese or cream cheese 6 ounces roasted almonds Balsamic reduction*
“This is the God of the gospel of grace. A God who, out of love for us, sent the only Son He ever had wrapped in our skin. He learned how to walk, stumbled and fell, cried for His milk, sweated blood in the night, was lashed with a whip and showered with spit, was fixed to a cross, and died whispering forgiveness on us all.”1 Jesus walked this sacred road first; we cannot claim His mercies without also claiming His practices. We mustn’t expect a resurrected life when we skip over the cost, the commission, the cross.
While forgiveness might feel like abandoning justice, it actually sets us free. It liberates us from the crushing responsibility to oversee the resolution, which may or may not ever come.
It is holy and hard work that says to God: Here is this sad thing. It is all Yours to fix or mend or redeem or simply bear witness. I am prying my hands off and freeing them up for other work.
“Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family.”2
we hand off much more than labor to the food industry, not the least of which is nutrition, but perhaps the greater loss is the beautiful farm-to-table system God devised down here.
Honey Dijonnaise Sauce 1 cup mayo 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard 2 tablespoons honey Pinch of salt Fried Chicken: Peanut oil (about an inch in your skillet) 2 cups milk 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar 1 egg 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon pepper 1 teaspoon cayenne 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup panko bread crumbs 1 tablespoon each: salt, garlic powder, paprika 6 thin-cut chicken breasts, cut in half for 12 sliders (Or as many as you want to make. I literally make 20.) Sliders:
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I have always said that if you don’t love Jesus, you just don’t know Him. He is the full and complete jam, and we would all be fighting to sit by Him at dinner if He was here now (and you know He would sit by the most wretched, broken-down person there and give everyone else FOMO).
Then fangirl the flesh and blood people around you, the ones you live by, live with, live for. Go gaga over your own people; that is well-placed loyalty. Overvalue them, over-love them, over-encourage them.
Fangirl the people who never get fangirled. You know the ones: the underdog, the quiet hero, the little guy. They are shy or behind the scenes or difficult or loners. It’s boring when the same old obvious people get all the enthusiasm;
If you want to make good friends, be a good friend. Send kindness out in big, generous waves, send it near and far, send it through texts and e-mails and calls and words and hugs, send it by showing up, send it by proximity, send it in casseroles, send it with a well-timed “me too,” send it with abandon. Put out exactly what you hope to draw in, and expect it back in kind and in equal measure. I am so convinced we reap what we sow here; sow seeds of
You cannot love others genuinely and generously and have it return void for long.
Psalms tells us that “deep calls to deep,” and similarly, grace calls to grace, joy calls to joy, laughter calls to laughter, sincerity calls to sincerity.
One of the lamest things about raising kids is how they don’t fully appreciate you until they are grown. What a chore to suffer the self-righteousness, exasperated sighs, and sassy mouths, and you endured all that and then some.
I am no longer afraid of spiritual investigation. I’m confident in the end game, which is that God is good and He loves us and He could not possibly be unfair, arbitrary, cold, or abusive. He couldn’t be. It is outside the possibility of His character. It isn’t just that God is loving but that He is love itself. I am so certain of that. I possess full confidence in God but a healthy skepticism of the human understanding of God. (I used to be the opposite, and I miss the days when I knew everything.)
