Thin Places has moved again!

Thin Places is now hosted by Patheos. Please join the conversation at http://www.patheos.com/community/thinplaces/

New blog home

Please find Thin Places at its new home: http://blog.beliefnet.com/thinplaces/

More Info About the New Blog...

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Blog Move and New Website

A few months back, I received an email from an editor at beliefnet.com asking me if I would like to move my blog to their site. After a long conversation and a lot of back and forth, both of us decided that the move would be a good thing. So, as of tomorrow, this blog has a new home. It will still be called Thin Places. You'll see a few new features, including a weekly reflection disability called "Perfectly Human" (more on that soon), and you'll have to wade through some advertisements. But hopefully you'll be connected to more like-minded people thinking and talking about these topics and questions, and hopefully you'll find other sites on beliefnet that are worth your time. Thanks so much for being a part of this conversation so far. I'm not sure when the link will go live, but by tomorrow (Thursday) morning, you should be able to click here and get to the new site.

I am also excited to announce that I have a completely new website! It includes information about my upcoming book. It also offers a Recommended Reading list, new photos, new audio clips of me reading from Penelope Ayers, and a new "About" section. Check it out at www.amyjuliabecker.com. I'd love to know what you think!

LOST and the Christian Faith

I have a new post on her.meneutics about the finale to LOST. It begins:

I Once Was 'LOST' But Now Am Found

Despite all its syncretistic symbols, the show's finale depicted one aspect of Christian theology superbly.

Amy Julia Becker

My husband and I consciously choose to watch only one television show at a time, which we watch, well, religiously. For the past few years, our show has been Lost. Its dramatic plot and love stories and perpetual mysteries all piqued my interest, but the show, written by a Catholic and a Jew, also played with philosophical and theological themes that kept me coming back for more. Sunday night’s series finale was no exception.

Judeo-Christian language and imagery show up repeatedly. There’s Jacob, who, to pass the mantel of leadership of the island to Jack Shepherd, dips a cup into water and says, “Drink this.” The scene is laden with references to the Last Supper. There’s Jack’s father, Christian Shepherd, who dies and comes to life again, as one of a handful of resurrected characters. Light is the source of all goodness. Miraculous healings abound.

To keep reading, click here.

William the Strong

When William was two months old, I took him to the pediatrician for a checkup. "He's really tight," our doctor said.

"Yep," I nodded. "It's hard for me to get him dressed. His arms are so strong I can hardly pull them away from his body."

He frowned. "He has extremely high muscle tone."

I've watched enough doctors express concern that I knew to ask, "Are you thinking this could be a problem?"

"Well..." He looked at me. "Well, it could indicate a neurological problem. We'll know better in a few months."

As it turns out, William's brain is fine. He simply has extremely high muscle tone. In other words, the kid is very strong.

I see it as he climbs into his high chair, or when he loses his balance but doesn't fall, or when he drags an object from one room to another. William is also (and has always been) very intense. Intensely happy most of the time, but over the course of most days he expresses the full range of human emotions. He burst into tears, for instance, when I took away his yogurt (which had become an opportunity to paint the placemat) this morning. He stomps his feet when he doesn't get his way. He spends most of the day running, but when tiredness hits, he tugs on my leg, "Tired, Mommy. Need a nap." Strong and capable and intense.

This morning, I was praying for our family. I have a notecard with specific requests for William. Things like, "good mentors later on in life" and "good preschool next fall" and "sleep longer in the morning!" At the top of the card is the verse from the Bible that our pastor chose for William when he was dedicated at our church at five-months old: "You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus" (2 Timothy 2:1). Our pastor knew nothing of William's unusual strength, and yet he gave me a way to pray for my son, that his strength would be the strength that comes, not from power and self-will, but the strength that comes from grace.

Be strong in grace, my son. Amen.

The Sweetness of God: Thoughts on Graduation, Book Deals, and Answered Prayer

I graduated from Seminary on Saturday. It was seven years in the making, to finish the three year degree (at least seven is a Biblical number). I now have what is called a "Masters of Divinity," a rather unfortunate title. By my reckoning, one of the goals of a Seminary education is to teach us that we can never "master" the subject of "divinity," that God, who is infinite, eternal, and inscrutable, cannot be pinned down or summed up in pithy phrases. Nonetheless, I have the diploma. I made it.

As much as Seminary taught me to be careful of ever thinking I can control or predict God, the fact that I graduated speaks to God's sweetness, God's intimacy, God's personal care in my life, in all of our lives.

Two years ago, I would have said I would never graduate. I had finished a little more than two years of courses and was taking a leave of absence after William's birth. It had been years since I was a full-time student. And I had a chance, I thought, to write a second book. Seminary would have to wait. Or, rather, it would have to be indefinitely incomplete.

But then the Seminary changed their graduation requirements so I only needed four courses in order to graduate. And then, a year ago, every editor who was interested in my second book was unable to convince their team of editors/marketing people that it was worth publishing. So I found myself last summer without a book contract and with finishing up school in a year a real possibility.

I started posting regularly to this blog in August of 2009. I thought it was an exercise in "building a platform" for writing. But it turned into a blessing, a space for me to work out my thoughts about all sorts of things, a space to connect with people far and wide, a space to be challenged and to challenge others, a space to be encouraged and to share encouragement. I figured I would finish classes and see what happened with writing.

Five days before my final assignment at the Seminary was due (my thesis), I received an offer from a publishing house to work on my second book. The day after that, I received an offer from beliefnet.com to move this blog onto their site. Looking back on it, all I can say is that God cares about me. It's a simple statement, but it would be a terribly self-absorbed one if I didn't think the same is true for every individual on this planet.

Over the past seven years I have learned a lot about God. In school, I learned that God is grand and worthy of our worship and so great that I cannot comprehend Him. But in my personal life, I learned that God is intimate and personal and so humble that I can pour out my silliest requests, my anger and fear and doubts, my heart. And I can trust that He will listen.

So this post is an announcement--in addition to the new website at www.amyjuliabecker.com, which offers some details about the new book--"Thin Places" will be moving to beliefnet.com this week. I hope you'll stay with me, and I hope the move will simply mean we've added many more people to our conversation.

But in addition to announcing these changes, this post is a thank you letter, to my Lord and my God, who cares for me. And for you.