OUR LIFE EXISTS both in solitude and in community, and I was able to lean into this work because of the spaces and the people who have supported me along the way.
First, I give thanks to the land I currently live on, home to the Muscogee Creek and Cherokee people. I acknowledge that I am a guest here and that the history of this place, history of resilience and trauma, helps me understand my own story better. Migwetch.
I give thanks for the house that we moved into one year ago, thanks to generous friends who offered it to us so that I could write my books and my partner could do his research in a place of peace. I wrote so much of this book from my attic office, on long mornings with lots of coffee and a candle or two to light my way. The hawks above us reminded me to keep going no matter what. Dan and Kristin, you have given us so much here and your generosity is humbling. Migwetch.
Though writing this book has been difficult at times, I have known the safety of my family, that Travis, Eliot, Isaiah, and our dogs, Sam and Jupiter, will always hold space with me and remind me that I am beloved and I belong.
My family stories have made me who I am, and for that, I hold gratitude. To Mom, Steve, Tiff, Tyler, and Dad, thank you for loving me along the way.
My Indigenous kin, my Anishinaabe friends and family, have so generously supported me along the way, even as these conversations are difficult to have. I am so grateful that I get to learn from all of you and that we get to journey together as we consider what decolonization might look like for us. Migwetch.
Publishing a book on Indigenous spirituality and tension within the church is an intense endeavor in the world of Christian publishing. When I began this journey with Brazos, I was nervous that I wouldn’t be understood or heard, and that hasn’t been the case. My words and ideas and experiences have been welcomed and held with such care. To the team at Brazos, I am so grateful to work with you. Thank you for believing in this book and in my voice so that, together, we can have a difficult but necessary conversation.
In a world that is loud with Twitter chatter and Facebook rants, the quiet moments of texting with a friend or receiving and giving encouragement are rare and precious. To the friends in my writing community, thank you for holding this space with me, for grieving with me in the loss of Rachel, for reminding me that my voice matters. Jeff, Tuhina, Rachel, Nadia, Sarah, Jess, Amena, Nick, Mirabai, Mickey, Rob, Kate, Jen, Andre, Ashley, Mike, Wil, Osheta, Theresa, Meredith, Garreth, Gabes, Daniel, Prop, Brian, Wil, Audrey, Addye, Diana, Rachael, Lisa, Richard, Darryl, Melaney, Danya, Carolina, Sandra, and so many others, migwetch.
The moments of receiving endorsements for a book you pour yourself into can be so stressful, and yet I have been overwhelmed with gratitude again and again for the people who chose to read my words early and give their own thoughts and support. You are my partners in this work.
Self-care in the writing process of this book has been so necessary and essential. To my therapist, who reminded me along the way that I can do this and that my voice matters, your support means so much to me. I will forever be grateful for people who pour into others and encourage us to face our grief, name it, and let it work its way out in us. You are teaching us how to be brave and how to come to terms with our beautiful, sometimes terribly painful, humanity. Migwetch.
As I began a writing career, I had no idea how it would work. I jumped in by myself, published a book, and slowly began to find people along the way who would help me figure out what’s next. To my agents, Rachelle and Jim, thank you for continuing to propel my career forward, for looking ahead to what might be on the horizon and for trusting me as I figure this out for myself as well. I am so grateful to have you on my team.
Someone recently asked me on Twitter how we are to know which parts of our life to publicly share and which parts to hold privately for ourselves and for the people we love. I answered that, often, we have a sort of gut feeling that lets us know what to share and how to set boundaries around what is public and what is private. This book is full of my life experiences, my stories, but I know they aren’t just for me. They are for you, my readers, to take with you, to help you ask questions of your own stories. They are my gift to you so that you know you aren’t journeying alone. Thank you for reading my words and supporting my journey.
And finally, to the continual, cyclical, complicated but precious journey of asking questions, migwetch. We do this because we are human, because we are dust-to-dust, and since there is no way to ask a question wrong, let us lean in and hold space with ourselves and one another.