In the flurry of activity that was Holy Week (Arthurs & Wasingers temporarily gave up trying to slow down, get ourselves out of the way, take the long view–which is probably what the disciples themselves felt like at that point in the story, anyway…), we have been nonetheless excited to spread the word about some upcoming author events.
Tuesday, April 25th – 7 PM Author event at Potterville Public Library in Potterville, MI. We can’t wait to join some of our favorite friends in our new favorite small town for a FREE author talk & book signing! We’ll do a drawing for a free book too (choose from any of Sarah’s titles or The Year of Small Things). NOTE: Please call the library to reserve your spot: (517) 645-2989. 150 Library Ln, Potterville, MI 48876.
Thursday, April 27th – 7 PM Book signing at Baker Book House in Grand Rapids, MI. We’re hitting one of our all-time favorite bookstores in West Michigan for a fun author talk & signing — and yes, our signature drawing for a $10 store gift card is in your future! Let us know you’re coming/interested on the Facebook event page. This event is FREE, so bring your friends & family. (P.S. The children’s section is FANTASTIC.)
Some other Year of Small Things goodness:
Don’t miss Erin’s Think Christian article on radical finances. Do you let your covenantal friends review your bank account? Why not?
The full text of SOJOURNER’S review of The Year of Small Things (from the print mag) is available online for a limited time. Many thanks to poet Abigail Carroll for her kind, thoughtful reflections.
Welcome to the world, The Year of Small Things: Radical Faith for the Rest of Us!
Sarah Arthur and Erin F. Wasinger are proud to announce that The Year of Small Things (Brazos Press) is in stores/ online today! The bundle of new monastic, love-your-neighbor, follow-Jesus-right-where-you-are joy could be in your hands now.
It’s hard to believe we’re in the home stretch! Our official book release is just around the corner (Jan 31, 2017), and here are some FREE things to help you party:
1) Book giveaways! Yep, we’re giving away free copies of The Year of Small Things, both here on our blog and on Goodreads (more info soon, Goodreads fans). Here’s how:
Subscribe to our blog between now and Feb. 15 by entering your email address in the handy little subscription button on the right of this page. Scroll down the page–see that cute little button? Right there. That’s where the magic happens.
The winning email address will be selected at random by someone small & illiterate so you know we’re not playing favorites.
The winner will be notified Feb. 16. Even if you’ve already preordered a copy, you can give the extra one to a friend, your local library, your state reps–heck, even the new president*!
2) Time is running out to get your free downloadable Year of Small Things calendar from our publisher! Once you preorder from your favorite online retailer (a great list is here) be sure to hang onto your receipt number, then fill out & submit the form you’ll find on our preorder page.
3) Special book-related eventsTHIS Sunday, Jan 29 in the Lansing, MI area, including:
9:30 & 11 AM – Sarah preaching to kick off the same series at Sycamore Creek Church in Lansing (1919 S. Pennsylvania), joined by special guest Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove.
12:30 – 3 PM – Free workshop on New Monasticism with Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove at Sycamore Creek Church (freewill offering will help cover expenses). Free lunch & childcare. Book-signing proceeds will help kids go to camp for free.
6:30 PM – Teen Fuel Cafe for 6th-12th graders meets at SCC, where Sarah will be bringing the YOST-related thought for the day. FREE pizza, snacks, & activities!
SO MUCH FREE-NESS!!
Stay tuned for other updates via our Year of Small Things Facebook group, which–yes, you guessed it–is also free.
Consider this our thanks for being such supportive fans!
*suggested inscriptions include Lev. 19:34, Deut. 24:17-18, and/or Matt. 25:43.
I (Sarah) pitched an idea to our two families: what if we all took some of the “radical” Christian practices touted by folks like Shane Claiborne and his community The Simple Way and spent a year growing into them? Can downward mobility for Jesus actually happen with debt and diapers and dishes–in suburbia?
During my husband Tom’s final year (my first) in seminary at Duke Divinity School, he sent out an email to our ethics class. We knew that once I graduated we would be leaving Isaiah House of Hospitality and everything we had learned in community; Tom would become a United Methodist pastor in Michigan, where we came from. Within Methodism’s appointment system, we would not get to choose our zip code, much less our community. And we could be moved annually thereafter.
So Tom’s email was both a question and an invitation.
The question: How do we live out a vision for community, downward mobility, and radical hospitality within the itinerant (and sometimes subtly upwardly mobile) system of mainline denominations?
Innocuous enough, and yet life-changing for the Arthurs. I won’t go into how we fell in love with not only the household but the vision, how we prayed, and talked, and came over for more meals. Suffice it to say, by fall semester we did not renew our lease on the one-bedroom near Duke.
We moved into the ‘hood–and stayed. For three years we shared a household with other community members committed to simplicity, hospitality, sustainability, and reconciliation—as well as with women and children in transition out of homelessness.
You know that feeling of regional vertigo, when you’ve been traveling so long that when you climb out of the car or step off the plane you can barely remember your own name, much less what state or country you’re in?
Maybe you’re hungry, and you think, “I’ll just grab a burrito from Cosmic Cantina on the way to the hotel,” and then you realize that Cosmic Cantina is roughly 867 miles away, and you haven’t a clue where to get food around here. Yeah, that. In addition to the bodily weirdness of traveling so far, there’s now a mini existential crisis, a spiritual displacement, as if your very identity, including the God you worship, is now up for grabs.
All because you walk on unfamiliar ground. Which is another way of saying that place matters.
“I think we’re almost there,” I (Sarah) said, hands at ten and two on the wheel of the moving truck we had called home for the past thirty hours. As we eased down the suburban-country road south of Lansing, Michigan that Memorial Day morning seven years ago, our rusty Subaru trailering behind us, Tom and I gazed with interest out the truck windows. A newish subdivision, a church or two. Two farm stands (hooray!), followed by a barn with pygmy goats, and then more subdivisions. Garage sale signs by the dozens. Bus stops. Most properties well-manicured, even picturesque. And then–unexpectedly–a trailer park, across from which we read the sign for yet another subdivision, “English Meadows.”