I Blame Wendell Berry and Jesus

A personal update from Christine Chandler Prater

👆This house was my 38th.👆

With all that moving around growing up, you’d think I’d know better than to get attached. But a record-breaking 8-year stretch in a house (+ 18 years in the same neighborhood) means even this gypsy soul put down roots.

Of all the places I have lived, this was the first one that felt like me, like mine, like home. I dreamt of this house for years and designed nearly every detail. I chose every fixture, placed every switch, and assigned every square foot. (Even my plugs had a place and purpose.😉) I formed friendships here, made memories here, and in so many ways, grew in and with God here. And then about 3 months ago, and for reasons I cannot clearly articulate or fully understand, God made it clear that it was time to go.

I’m glad I’m saying yes to God, but I’m not done grieving it.

The new house is…err… very different from what I have now. Older. Smaller. Rougher. Rural-er (go with it). It’s basically “a little rock house on a big hill, looking at another hill,” as the sweet seller put it. It’s in the middle of nowhere and it backs to a creek. I love it to pieces.

I will be posting lots of pics on my personal Instagram account as I remodel and relocate, so follow along there if you’re into that sort of thing. But please note: it needs a lot of love and I need a lot of rest. I’m hankerin’ for (look at me trying out some country vocabulary here) less screentime and more time sitting in the river. I’m betting that a smaller indoor space will lead to greater enjoyment of the outdoors. I’m hoping that the quieter town will mean a slower pace in general, which is much needed in every sphere of my life right now. I’m planning on making that little rock house into a proper sanctuary for myself, my friends/family, and all the wildlife out there. (By the way, please pray that Sister will not start fights she cannot finish. Survival-savvy she is not. More on that in a moment.)

Don’t get me wrong: Austin is still wonderful in a million different ways. But back when I moved here 20 years ago, it was a sweet little laid-back college town with gorgeous views and great music. And when we moved out to this particular neighborhood, we were surrounded by Willie Nelson, a few other old hippies and songwriters, and a whole lotta live oaks and Hill Country. However, over the last several years, I’ve watched developers mow down most of the trees and saw off many of the hilltops, and as the clamor and congestion around me grew, so did the internal disquiet.

I never thought anyone could say this, but I think I’m too much of a hippie for Austin now. 😉

The truth is that the yearning for smaller, slower, sweeter has been growing in me for years, maybe even a decade. I don’t just blame all the growth and progress in the area. I also blame Wendell Berry and Jesus. Through exploring Berry’s writing and observing Jesus’ own personal and ministerial rhythms in Scripture, a voracious hunger for a deeper, quieter, richer life awakened in me, and only a little less shine and a lot more silence can satisfy it. Moreover, while the physical relocation will undoubetdly help, only a spiritual and emotional reallocation of time and energy can completely cure what ails me. So along with the new address must come a new way of living. I’m ready for it. No, scratch that. I’m desperate for it.

It will be completely different but also not all that far away. I’ll be situated smack dab between Austin and San Antonio, which makes my work commute a little longer but expands my ministry reach a little farther. It also gets me much closer to my parents and that delicious little Nephew-nugget.

There’s so much to do and learn in this new place, and I hope that I treat it like a proper adventure. I do worry about my ability to transition, though, as I am ashamed to say that I have become fully cityfied during my stint in ATX. My ranch-living mom has snort-laughed more than once in response to my silly questions about country living. How do I cope with all of this cactus? (Learn to coexist.) Should I be concerned that the neighbor has an alligator? (Not a hypothetical scenario.) Does Sister need a Coyote Coat? (Please pour yourself a glass of wine and google that for a hoot. YOU’RE WELCOME.)

Will you please pray for me as I pack, move, and adjust? It all feels like a lot right now and I was about out of wherewithal to begin with. I’m an Enneagram 4 (which means I have all the feelings) with a 5 wing (which means I need all the information,) plus a total introvert (which means new people/places/things are hard for me). I trust God but I know myself. Or maybe I should reverse that and say, I KNOW MYSELF SO I AM GOING TO HAVE TO TRUST GOD.

It won’t be easy, but the best things never are, so I’ve learned. It’ll be painful to pull up roots and leave this home, but it serves as a great reminder that God is my only true home, anyway.

I will leave you with this short poem by Berry:

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

We love to collaborate with creatives. Connect with us to have your work featured on The Holy Shift.