Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

spiritual memoir

Misguided mission: Review of Dangerous Territory by Amy Peterson

I am not, nor have I ever been, a missionary. Not in the travel to far-off places and share the Gospel sense. Still, I have a bit of wanderlust and a desire to do important things. Which must be why I connected with Amy Peterson’s story in her spiritual memoir, Dangerous Territory: My Misguided Quest to Save the World. (To be clear, this is not just a book for missionaries or would-be missionaries or young people because I am none of those things!)

Peterson’s account of her time teaching English in Southeast Asia and events that led to trouble in her host country, as well as her deconstruction of the faith she’d grown up with is relatable and engaging. It is not a hero’s story but a humble retelling of finding God again and learning that all service to Him, no matter where, no matter what, is important and part of the kingdom work of restoration. (Disclaimer: I received a copy of the book from the author. Review reflects my personal and honest opinion.)

That stories like this exist give me hope that future generations will be encouraged to live a spiritual life wherever they are or are called to, whether that is somewhere across the ocean or down the street from their childhood home. Peterson’s struggle to find meaning and purpose in staying instead of going is a much-needed story in a world that continues to value the big and bold steps of faith.

She writes early in the book about her expectations:

Sermons about lives full of dedication to God rarely made daily floor-sweeping an example of dedication. They seldom lauded people who responded to e-mails punctually and thoughtfully. They didn’t praise those who regularly attended conferences for professional development and stayed up-to-date in their fields.

I wanted an extraordinary life, flush with spiritual vitality and adventure, a life fully committed to God. I wanted to be the greatest.

We do a disservice to believers of all ages when we elevate certain expressions of spirituality above others (missionaries and pastors, for example). And Peterson comes to the realization through trials and silence that maybe she had it all wrong.

“What if God didn’t want me to be useful? Could I surrender to that? Was I willing to be useless for God?” (182)

That’s a question I’m sitting with personally. Maybe God doesn’t need me to do, do, do all the time. Maybe I can just “be” and that’s enough.

Her conclusions by the end of the book are ones I’m making as well. I’ll share more about that when I join the author’s blog link-up to celebrate the book’s launch.

Even though it’s applicable to anyone deconstructing their faith or who has ties to missions, I’d call this one a must-read for anyone new to missions or considering missions for longer than a short-term trip. It’s a realistic and honest look at what it’s truly like “on the field” and not the kinds of stories you typically hear from visiting missionaries during a church service.

 

A guide through the messy work of discovering: Review of Out of Sorts by Sarah Bessey

“Sorting” is not a word we the people of the United States use very often and certainly not in the British way. But it’s a perfectly apt description of the process of discovering and re-discovering what I believe and why. And Sarah Bessey guides us through this messy work in her new book Out of Sorts.

It is a record of her own faith journey and a guidebook, in a way, of the path through a process that can be disorienting.

Like all good stories, it begins with a familiar phrase:

beautifully sorted out

And while there’s no tidy ending (because all of our journeys are unique), it’s not a story devoid of “happily ever after.”

The sorting of a person’s beliefs can be a beautiful thing. But it’s not necessarily easy.Out of Sorts cover

Out of Sorts doesn’t offer a how-to approach to finding your once-and-for-all set of beliefs. But it offers encouragement to question, to remember, to grieve losses and hurts, to look back on your life and church experiences and theology and determine what stays and what goes. Bessey’s book is like a friend who sits with us as we sort, but who can’t make the decisions for us. Those are for us alone. She offers her own experiences, her own work of finding a fresh look at Jesus in the Gospels, of discovering ancient practices she’d not been exposed to in her charismatic upbringing.

“Lean into your questions and your doubts until you find that God is out here in the wilderness too. I have good news for you, brokenhearted one: God is here in the wandering.”

It’s the kind of book I want to re-read to soak up the richness. Like a guidebook to a favorite vacation destination, I want to consult it again and again until the landscape is as familiar to me as my own neighborhood.

“You may sit by the trail and cry over the poisonous, lovely things being left behind. You’ll wonder why you’re still holding on this thing or that thing. You’ll find that some things you were ready to toss have become dear, so precious, that you’ll carry them in your lap to keep them safe.”

Encouraging, prophetic and challenging. A must-read if the faith tradition in which you were raised seems in conflict with the faith tradition you have now.