spark.

Along the way, I’ve collected more questions than 

answers, but I’ve fought for a few ideas that have formed 

a bed I can rest on, a life I can make peace with, a dream I 

can cling to. I’m not a doctrinarian, mostly because for me, 

doctrine is not the thing that God has used to change my 

life. I’m a reader and a storyteller, and God chose literature 

and story and poetry as the languages of my spiritual text. 

To me, the Bible is a manifesto, a guide, a love letter, a story. 

To me, life with God is prismatic, shocking, demanding, 

freeing. It’s the deepest stream, the blood in my veins, the 

stories and words of my dreams and my middle-of-the-night 

prayers. I am still surprised on a regular basis at the love I feel 

for the spirit of God, the deep respect and emotion that I 

experience when I see an expanse of water or a new baby or 

the kindness of strangers. 

I’m immeasurably thankful to have been born into 

a community of faith. And I’m even more thankful that my 

community of faith allowed me the space and freedom to 

travel my own distances around and through the questions 

I needed to answer. I’m thankful for the patience and grace 

I was given, for the forgiveness I was extended, and the 

guidance I needed. 

I’m thankful for God’s constant fl ickering and sparking 

fl ame inside me, planted in me years ago and fi ghting to 

keep burning. For a season, I didn’t think it mattered much, 

but now I know that tiny fl ame is the most precious thing I 

have, and that it can ignite a forest fi re inside any heart and 

can burn away a lifetime of apathy and regret and distance.

excerpt of Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. 

(tasting her words and identifying with the essence of her memoir)