In October of 2013, I completed my book proposal and let it loose into publisher’s hands. I woke in the night, as is usual for me, and I prayed:

that it be not a beloved book if its beloved-ness were meant to tidy me or make my britches too small. […] that my book would be as good and true as any honest writer could make [it].[…] that when the character tangles with desire, I would write it. When she tangles with the God who makes her limp, I will let her mouth whisper the words of holy tongue, [that]  I would never not miss home, that my homesickness would make me worse and worse of a machine-molded Christian.

I prayed to be wild.

Then a year ago, I signed with Revell, a division of Baker publishing group that feels like family, and I began to pour it out. I indeed wrestled with God and desire. I became more sick for home. And while I was writing it, life was shaping me in ways that may take decades for me to share.

I wrote in my story-letter earlier this week that when I finally saved that document for the last time, I literally said out loud, “I can die now.” Everything I had to say up to that point (especially to my children) was in that manuscript. All my poetry was right there. I finished it and felt as small as ever.

When I go back to read it now, I sink into it like a woman in a glorious flashback. I can’t change that story or the voice that blew over me as I wrote it. This was the story it was meant to be during the time it was written. If I were to tell it to you now, if I were to rewrite it, already my perspective would be different. I would be learning different lessons from it. A different detail would rise out of the scene and it would speak.

I saved the final document in November, and when I read back on the woman who wrote that book, I spill with gratitude. I can’t believe this story belongs to me. A story with a book jacket on, it is a gift that I did not make. I wrote it for you, but God gave the twists and resolves therein. He has pulled the tensions, and I can hold them in my hand, even darkest days, and be so grateful.

This, friends, is my book: Wild in the Hollow, On Chasing Desire and Finding the Broken Way Home. I love the title because it is true.

Also, I love the cover, and dear gracious, I hope you do, too.

I can’t wait to tell you more about it, but I’ll wait until August 4th gets a little closer. Just save a reading spot in your schedule for me, and thank you for sharing and cheering and being here with me.