Review: The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman

The Next Right Thing: A Simple, Soulful Practice for Making Life Decisions

I haven’t read author Emily P. Freeman’s other books, nor listened to the podcast by the same name for which this book is titled. I have been a longtime subscriber to her monthly e-mail newsletter, though, and I always appreciate the ways she shares her world so generously. I received a copy of her latest book, The Next Right Thing (TNRT) through her publisher, Revell, in exchange for my honest review.

I’m leading purposefully with the most superficial aspect of TNRT because aesthetic matters to me, particularly in the Christian publishing realm where it seems if you’re a female author, your book cover MUST have some picture of a delicate flower with a watercolor script. I adore Freeman’s choice of a monochromatic, sans-serif design for the cover. It’s a refreshing departure from the others in this category lining the shelves, and sets the stage for what is a refreshing read in general.

I am not usually drawn to books about making decisions because I thought, before reading TNRT, that I had no trouble making them. I’m not usually risk-averse and overthinking my next moves is rarely a hindrance to my day. But from the outset of TNRT, I learned that this does not a sound decision maker make. In fact, on page 14, Freeman puts me on blast: “Maybe you have an aversion to making decisions so you either delegate them, avoid them, or make them too quickly just to get them settled.” Bing bing bing. I’ve been hot potato handling my choices my whole life. I hate deliberations, so I just pull a straw and stick with it and hope I can drink out of it for as long as I need. It’s what has worked. Or I thought it had. TNRT showed me a better way. Better ways, to be sure, because what TNRT does best is come alongside the reader to examine the different facets of his/her life and see what areas need the most support and discernment and so much grace.

My favorite chapters were 8, “Know What You Want More” and 10 “Quit Something” because the ideas were the most applicable for me and I thought the writing was strongest. TNRT unpacks ideas in a way that is easy to visualize and understand, often with Freeman confessing her own shortcomings and stumbling blocks to disarm the reader from thinking this is a perfectionist’s formula. There are prayers and practices that bookend each chapter and they are thoughtfully written and I’m sure will be revisited as the ideas trade relevance in years to come.

Now that I think about it, going back to the cover again, the black and white is also unisex, and I think the messaging here is, too. Freeman does a good job of incorporating voices from women and men throughout the book. I’m not sure whether a diversity of voices is represented in terms of culture and race, but Freeman is aware when her own privilege needs to be acknowledged and I find the spirit in which she writes quite equitable. Her advice presumes that a person making big or small decisions already has some measure of agency in his/her life. Being a good steward of one’s privilege — time, resources, connections, talents — is foundational to the message of TNRT. It has definitely impressed upon me that making good decisions is a sort of act of worship in itself.

Review: Love Where You Live by Shauna Pilgreen

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When the Revel Reads program offered this book among its options, I leapt at the chance to read it, largely because I liked the subtitle of the book. “How to Live Sent in the Place You Call Home.” I thought it sounded very charming and it appealed to me as a woman who believes we are all sent with a purpose to different places, whether it be a little visit to a nursing home or a long-term stay in a state where we’ve never lived before. We as a family have entered a season of putting down roots and I was interested in what this book could offer someone like me.

When I received the book and began reading the Introduction, I found the author’s perspective to be refreshing and circumspect. I had become acquainted somewhat with the urban missionary movement in the contemporary American Christian church and some of it really bristled me. Some of it sounds incredibly naive, and other examples have sounded downright entitled. Some call it “new monasticism” and others refer to it as upside-down kingdom living. I wanted to know where this book fit on the spectrum of stories/guides to being missional in one’s own community.

After reading the Introduction, the two chief questions I had in reading the rest of the book were:
Question #1: The author is white but does she recognize her privilege in moving into a community?
Question #2:- As a transplant to a community where she and her husband are trying to church plant, do they work with organizations already on the ground to learn more about their community?

I was sorry the answer to Question #1 was…not really? I am frustrated when I read about one more white woman in the church who doesn’t realize the amazing backpack of privilege she carries. The author talks about the three places she and her family moved to in and around San Francisco. It appears she blithely moved into each home without having concern as to whether or not she would be well-received. In fact, the author speaks about not receiving anything—no welcome or acknowledgment. This actually both struck me as naive and privilege-blind. I’ve lived in the city for 10+ years and I never expect to be acknowledged. It’s part of survival in a densely populated area. You just cannot expend your energy to each and every person passing into your lane. She does not mention worrying about any looks askance or overwhelmingly suspicious surveillance of her family moving in — something plenty of people of color have to worry about each day of their lives as they move through the world. The author talks about adopting their daughter from India during their early years in San Francisco. I’m sure becoming a multi-ethnic family overnight came with its lovely points and challenges, and I would have wanted to hear more about that. Instead, here is a passage from the book that bemused me:

”In my city, I’ve got a lifetime of people to love. The immigrants. The refugees. The under-resourced. The minorities…and I joyfully say, ‘You are welcome here.’”

I could barely read the rest of the book after this passage. It sounded at turns Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, and also incredibly pompous. Really? As a transplant to a city, you still feel entitled to tell others that they’re welcome in a city? There’s nothing wrong with being a welcoming person, but maybe those folks already know they belong. Maybe they don’t need a white woman to validate their being there. Being blind to one’s own privilege is a huge turn-off and I just never found the level of awareness I had hoped to find in this book.

The answer to Question #2 was maybe. As church planters, it appeared that this family and the other planting staff did reach out to others in the trenches who were doing their best to start churches. But I didn’t see much in the way of allying with organizations already on the ground who could provide resources and an invaluable intel into the community. The author prescribes whittling away the shoe leather in walking the blocks that surround her home and meeting the people and praying for the places in which her ministerial circle comprises. I think this is great, but it’s also one of the criticisms of new monasticism: that oftentimes these idealistic ministers seem to get burned out by doing it all from scratch, when they could have sought existing, embedded resources to help them find their path.

There were many redeeming parts about the book, including the early chapters on doubt and discomfort. I loved this: “A fear of missing out is not from God.” The author and her husband offer excellent, tactical strategies for planning a purpose-driven move. The book is also filled with a tremendous diversity of perspectives from luminaries such as C. S. Lewis, Marc Batterson, Maria Goff, and Pete Scazzero whose words enriched the pages.

Overall, there were far too many surefooted explanations for how ministry should be done in a place outside of one’s own comfort zone. The blindness to privilege was a major detractor for me as a reader. However, I think this book would still be a helpful companion for those who are discerning a move for ministry because of the cards the author is willing to show in sharing her spiritual walk through discomfort and toward the unknown.

I received a copy of this book for free in exchange for an honest review.

Review: The Ministry of Ordinary Places

If you read FALLING FREE, Shannan Martin returns with an even more lyrical and soulful memoir of her life as a radical neighbor lover. As a member of her launch team, I received an advance copy.

I was blessed so much by THE MINISTRY OF ORDINARY PLACES and I especially appreciated the very tactical ideas Martin offers for loving our neighbors. The author also takes a necessary and admirable stance against a lot of what I can only refer to as ministry "gimmicks" that churches in the First World have adopted as de rigueur. Examples of this included "pop-up" ministry events, short-term missions that do more harm than good, or just ill-advised donation drives. The love the author has for her neighbors and her neighborhood is so palpable, and the book is an inspiring look at how one family can be a beacon simply by choosing to stay. 

Pairing my own fave coffee mug with this book’s darling cover.

The only aspect of the book with which I really struggled was the lack of discussion of boundaries. Much of the ministry of being embedded in a community was familiar to me, since I have lived at the schools where my husband and/or I worked. It can be very overwhelming at times to field requests at all hours of the day and night from those one has been called to serve. As a mother, I believe my first order of ministry is to my family. Sometimes living in an insular community, one has to set hedges around one's family in order that the family not get exploited. The author makes mention of how her husband sought counseling for anxiety, and I was grateful for that. As a Christian, we can see from Jesus' example that there were times he reserved only for his prayer time, that he disappointed people by being unavailable because of his priorities. I wanted to hear more about that -- that giving freely of ourselves is still something we need to have discretion about so that we're not placing our family as a sacrificial lamb on the altar. The Martins are fully committed to their ministry of being present, and there are certainly instances mentioned where simply being present is hard. Still, I was left to wonder what they did when and if their children just sort of wanted their parents to themselves (?) Projecting here, but my kids help alongside me in ministry but sometimes they have bad attitudes about it and it's usually because I'm not devoting enough time to them. I think this begs the question: Can you live in the upside-down kingdom while still keeping your priorities in order? I don’t have the answer and I think anyone living in close community is looking for guidance about how to do it well.

I think my favorite chapter was about the Jail Ministry house. Martin explains the real disparity for families with an incarcerated person reentering society and the high cost of housing, job hunting that befalls individuals/families because of time served. I was so moved by the story of the Jail Ministry house and feel inspired to explore opportunities to serve inventively in this vein in my own sphere of influence.

I highly recommend this book if you are impressed to live and experience the Gospel in a less abstract and more practiced way, to have your eyes wide open to the biddings and beckonings of Divinity that hasn’t given up on our spinning planet yet.