There's no escaping everyone experiences seasons of pain and despair.
In 2019, when Amber Haines resigned from her position as church curate and walked out the church doors for the last time, she entered her own season of pain and despair. That season taught her--and her husband, Seth Haines--that the journey toward hope starts with recognizing "the deep down things."
In The Deep Down Things, Amber and Seth point to a simple even in the darkest times, there are tangible signs of hope all around us. The authors demonstrate how tasting, touching, feeling, holding, and participating in these tangible acts of hope picks us up, builds our strength, and moves us into beauty, even in times of despair. They invite readers to participate with those signs of hope and thereby experience the divine love of God, even in the struggle of their everyday lives.
A lifeline for those who desperately need it, this book helps readers overcome despair, find hope, and spread that hope to an aching world.
This book met me in a moment when I needed a fresh perspective in a hard spiritual season. While the central story of leadership abuse, leaving the Anglican church, and finding their way to Catholicism wasn't a journey or landing place I could resonate with, I found many of the "practices for growing hope" helped refresh my imagination and reminded me of Goodness once again.
Amber is a poet by trade and it shows in her writing. Both of the authors were a pleasure to read, but I recommend taking time with this book since the language tends to be more poetic and the topics are on the heavy side. I found this to be helpful as I learn how to hope and continue living a good life despite chapters of despair. Grief can coexist with goodness.
These are a few pieces that stood out to me that basically summarize the book:
"The church isn't always the best at protecting its women. Mary magdalene knows."
"The river of grief is a complex moving body where so many things coexist"
"When the amygdala kicks in and sends us in fight, flight, fawn, or freeze mode, our brains don't give us a multiple choice questionnaire to see what response we would like best in the moment"
"We are something beyond the thrashing"
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This reads more like a memoir. Incredible prose, loads of vulnerability.
Last year we left our evangelical, Baptist roots and landed ourselves in a Lutheran church. Our journey has a lot of overlap with Amber and Seth's. Many times I paused, reflecting on our parallel experiences.
Changing church landscapes aside--- the truths included are applicable and impactful, regardless of denominations or worship style.
In a world that is so quick to mark boundaries and put up walls, point out where we differ... I feel this book pushes back and says here is our common ground. We are all humans staring into the darkness, bringing His light.
An extremely biased review of the words of two dearly beloved humans (who sang while I walked down the aisle!), with whom we once shared a church prior to our big move North and the awful circumstances described here. Still, I think even if I didn’t read this through the lens I did, Amber and Seth are both gorgeous writers with *such important stories* to tell. Their particular religious journey is quite different than mine, and I learned and reflected on so much. Love the way the chapters are set up and the practical notes at the end of each.
Though I am not currently in a time of despair, I know that it may come so I hold onto this written witness. I absolutely loved this book. Seth & Amber write beautifully and honestly. I highly recommend the book because the practices at the end of each chapter are pure gold. I savored each chapter, written first by Seth, then Amber. Each author is a storyteller. I’m gripped by the stories woven through. I will read and reread this treasure.
“Yeah, it’s dark…but look here…the light of hope still burns” (Seth, p. 158).
“But here’s what I can tell you: even in the lack, when we were singing, there was great joy, and our songs of joy looked despair in the face and said, “Watch me.” (Amber, p. 160).
I loved Amber Haines’ Wild in the Hollow when I read it during a different season of my life. The beautiful cover and description of Deep Down Things caught my eye and I was excited to revisit her writing. The prose that she and her husband, Seth, bring to the table is poetic and beautiful. They are vulnerable and inviting in the way they share their story. Unfortunately, this was different than I expected and ended up not being for me. Although the Haines do not push their beliefs on the reader, as a Protestant Christian, I was uncomfortable with some of the very Catholic practices (pick a patron saint and receive transubstantiated communion for example). Had this been only a memoir and not a “Christian living” type of book, I think I would have enjoyed it more. I also think someone who is already a practicing Catholic will enjoy this book. Thank you Netgalley and Brazos Press for the advanced review copy. All opinions are my own.
I listened on audio, which is such a treat because Amber and Seth each read their portions of the book and I happen to really like their voices! This is a book about despair (according to Amber) and hope (Seth). The writing was beautiful, thoughtful, and sacramental. I particularly enjoyed the chapter on silence and feel some kinship to Amber in our inner struggles to resist the quiet with busyness.
I loved this book so much! It’s a great book if you’re currently grieving something. Whether it’s a loss of dreams, expectations, a job- this book is the perfect read for hard seasons. The authors mainly speak from personal experience about job loss and being hurt by the church. I really liked that it gave tangible and practice ways to help you focus and find hope in tough times.
Seth and Amber Haines are artful storytellers who manage to present the grime and grit of life while still reverencing being alive. I was refreshed by their realness, touched by their vulnerability, and moved to get off my haunches by their challenges. I’m not the biggest fan of “self-help”-y books, but this feels much more like accompanying a friend through a hard time than it feels like being given the tools to success.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Eat the Flowers > Page 6 · Location 190 In the beginning, there was a song, and the song was God’s, and the song came and dwelt among us, filling up the whole world. It wasn’t a surface song. It vibrated beneath what’s seen, way down, in the “deep down things,” as Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote. 1 This song was as real as my heartbeat, the rhythmic cicada songs, the pulse of the ocean. It was from God, and it was in me and the world around me.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Eat the Flowers > Page 11 · Location 265 Christ sang into the world through all the acts of the church. He was found in the bread and wine, in all the other sacraments too. But his song was also found outside the walls of any structure, in the sacramental energy of earthly things—flowers, birds, friends, feasts, bread, wine, prayers, art, the land, the words of the saints. All these things began pulling her from despair because that’s what happens when we look for Christ’s presence in the world all around us.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Eat the Flowers > Page 11 · Location 269 There are things I wish I could ask him, like: What did you do with the pain that the sacramental energy soothes but can’t erase? When your work was unappreciated? When you were discounted, discredited, or dismissed? What should I do when I feel discarded like a heel of bread? What should any of us do when pandemics rage or marriages fail or loved ones die or church leaders make too much of their own egos or the best laid plans of men bite the dust? Whenever whatever threatens to undo us and our God-given work, where can we find relief? I suspect he’d say to look around and notice all the places where God shows his divine love. Then spend time in those places.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Eat the Flowers > Page 11 · Location 274 In his darkest days, Hopkins found God hidden in the things of earth. He found him in the trout, the flowers, the sea, the bread, the wine, the poems he wrote. And he showed us in that way of finding God, there was something like hope.
2. Tell the Story Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Choose Your Attachments > Page 31 · Location 546 Through this imaginative prayer practice, I began to learn a deep down thing: every moment is an ordained opportunity, even the painful ones. In time and space, we can choose to connect with the Creator of the cosmos instead of the things that fill that cosmos. As I did that very thing, I began to see that created gifts—things like wine, food, sex, or whatever—comprise the good stuff, made good by the goodness of God, and they can be portals of connection to the divine if we order them under his creative love. But if we use these gifts as ends in themselves, as ways of numbing pain, then addiction is the natural result.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Choose Your Attachments > Page 32 · Location 554 And I’ve learned that all the good things of the earth are meant to be enjoyed in proper relation to the Christ who created them.
Highlight(yellow) - Amber: Body Talk > Page 34 · Location 587 Inside one grief were a hundred others.
Highlight(yellow) - Amber: Body Talk > Page 34 · Location 590 The river of grief is a complex moving body where so many things coexist. It can even harbor beauty or level out with some stillness we didn’t know we could find.
3. Find God in the Stuff of Earth Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Go to the River, the Trail, the Chapel > Page 40 · Location 655 And it’s been a season when there’s been so much to make sense of, like, What does it mean to be the one who carries hope?
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Go to the River, the Trail, the Chapel > Page 41 · Location 657 It’s been no easy thing carrying hope, particularly because the world seems hell-bent on burning it all down.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Go to the River, the Trail, the Chapel > Page 46 · Location 735 This is why I run the trails. There, one foot in front of the other, I find truth, beauty, and goodness, which I could sum up this way: God meets us in the most ordinary things, and through them, he drives back the shadows. There are places—real, tangible places—where the God of love meets us, if only for a moment. And when we’re drowning in despair, we go to those places to connect with that love. We go there to attain love, and by attaining it, we push back the despair, even if just a little.
Highlight(yellow) - Amber: Eat the Crackers > Page 47 · Location 752 I did not come from a celebrational people as much as I did a survivalist people. 4. Create Signs
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Cairnal People > Page 60 · Location 931 the Scriptures, we read of the cairnal drive of the faith fathers. Jacob erected a cairn after his bizarre ladder dream in which God promised to multiply his descendants. He set up another on the location where God changed his name from Jacob to Israel. Joshua dragged twelve stones from the riverbed and set them up in the promised land. Samuel set up a stone named Ebenezer after God defeated the Israelites’ mortal enemies, the Philistines. Elijah stacked rocks in his great showdown with the prophets of Baal.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Cairnal People > Page 62 · Location 961 God can be found in even the humblest things, things like birds and sobriety.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Cairnal People > Page 64 · Location 982 Not unlike the stacked stones on the riverbank, these images that line our walls are icons of hope. They remind us of those who suffered their own seasons of despair but somehow managed to find their way through them. If we bend our ears toward them, we can hear them say, “Look up to the hills—where will your help come from?”
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Cairnal People > Page 64 · Location 987 Memorial making is a human eccentricity, I think, something baked into our DNA, and I wonder: Why? Perhaps it’s nothing more than sentimentality, a way of making more out of a moment than it really is. Or maybe it’s because we are the descendants of Adam and Eve, people who set up markers that point us in the direction of home. Perhaps these cairns, these memorials remind us that even as we navigate this valley of deathly shadows, there is a way through, if only we keep our eyes on the markers.
Highlight(yellow) - Amber: Memorials Everywhere in Everyone > Page 69 · Location 1059 “But if you don’t write, even when you feel a little crazy, you’ll land sick in bed.” Because she herself landed sick in bed from not writing, I’m learning to not let myself be away from the deeper, written soul-work for long.
Highlight(yellow) - Amber: Memorials Everywhere in Everyone > Page 70 · Location 1064 We already knew Ashlyn Gagnon and her husband, Jesse, from our Anglican Church days, and we long imagined living near them and the brewery they were opening on their homeplace (Orthodox Farmhouse Brewery). We’d bought land near them in the land of Goshen (Arkansas, that is), and in the fall of 2022, we broke ground on what will be our permanent home. From that little outpost, we intend to trade sugar, share tools, and help tend to the Gagnons’ chickens when they’re out of town. We’ll watch their kids if they ever need it, buy pints to support their brewery, send our boys to help them build or mend fences. I’m sure we’ll share dinners and stories and maybe a song or two over the years. This is all to say that the Gagnons are the kind of people we hope to live life with for a long time, especially after what we’ve endured together in the church. When people meet Ashlyn, they tend to stick around. She has a way about her that’s hard to pin down. Maybe it’s her ability to woo coupled with her cooking skills. Maybe it’s her giant smile and her ability to make people feel at home no matter where they’re from. When a local beef farmer named Emily reached out to Jesse to ask about grains from the brewing process, Ashlyn quickly took up with Emily. As we’ve come to know Emily, Ashlyn and I have started calling her “the salt of the earth.” Want an icon? See Emily. In sunlight, her hair catches fire, and her eyes are seawater blue-green. She’s quiet and funny, and she is strong. At thirty weeks pregnant, she was easily outworking every human I’d ever met. We happened to have bought our land from her dad, who had already told me about her and her big sister, Liz, who lived nearby. Liz is a single mom with a corporate career. She’s also a sheep farmer and has always dreamed of starting a farmers market in Goshen to connect local food with local people. She’s the biggest dreamer I’ve met and sees a world without food insecurity as a doable thing. It was easy for Ashlyn and me to take our cues from Liz. We’d discussed wanting to see a farmers market get off the ground too. Our little beloved town of Goshen is one you can blink and miss if you’re just on your way to the Buffalo River, but for those of us who have lived there, we know the potential. We know the houses by what we see each other growing. When I met Emily and Liz’s dad, he was talking about their mama, Ms. Mary, who is a master gardener and preserver. I said, “Oh! Ms. Mary is the one who grows all those amazing peonies!” We planned our first meeting to discuss the potential for a farmers market and met in Liz’s house surrounded by a hundred house plants, which is how I knew I loved her. We left having decided we could and should and would make the market happen. When we had our first official meeting as the board of directors, Brett came too, a gorgeous soul from the Northeast with experience running a nonprofit and with every ounce of get-up-and-go as the rest of us. Maybe more. She happens to live right up the road, growing sunflowers and cooking gluten-free dishes as much a feast for the eyes as for the mouth. Now every Thursday evening until sunset, we set up market booths for Goshen’s makers and local growers. We usually have musicians playing and a food truck. In the throes of the pandemic, there were evenings when the virus never crossed my mind, because we were outside with plenty of room, kids darting across the lawn. The Arbor Board walks through pointing to their monarch butterflies. Everyone is proud. A few nights of the year, our sponsors provide free food for the entire town, and so many folks come to eat that we always run out. My boys set up the picnic tables for the guests, and people will come and sit with us, listening to the music until we take the tents down. It’s easy to spend every spare second looking at a screen, at the filtered faces on Instagram with ten-step plans for a more click-worthy life, but it seems harder online to stop and look for cairns and memorials, much less make them. It’s easy to find them in the little altars, statues, and icons around my house. It’s even easier to recognize them among our local farmers and the people who want to support them. It’s hard to miss the icons, the magic, and the poetry when you’re close to the earth, when you’re in a field of hay helping load watermelons into an old lady’s trunk. It has been hard for me to not see the Divine Love as I have come to know my neighbors’ names, when one gives my oldest son a bag of quail feathers so he can tie beautiful flies that allow him to catch more rainbow trout. The market is a memorial to me, something that reminds me not just who God is but also who I am. I was made to be an organizer and planner, a starter and dreamer, a grower and connector. I was made to appreciate what it takes to feed a people with nourishing food, which reminds me of what my previous role as curate was supposed to be. Every Thursday is a reminder that my work is sacred. It’s a sort of cairn that reminds me that where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going is sacred. When we make memorials or come across any icon, cairn, or sacramental thing of creation, we name it as sacred, allow it to point to something that is beyond us. There we see a timeless, transcendent, deeper magic—the magic of the Divine Love operating in the world—and it reminds us who we are. There, in that reminder, we feel ourselves becoming a sign. 5. Practice Silence Bookmark - Seth: Flee the World > Page 79 · Location 1181
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Flee the World > Page 79 · Location 1186 In The Power of Silence, Cardinal Robert Sarah writes of the human need to flee from the noisy world and connect with God. This need is memorialized in the monastic tradition through the Latin term fuga mundi, which means “flight from the world.” Of fuga mundi, he writes, “It means an end of the turmoil, the artificial lights, the sad drugs of noise and the hankering to possess more and more goods, so as to look at heaven. A man who enters the monastery seeks silence in order to find God. He wants to love God above all else, as his sole good and his only wealth.” 2
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Flee the World > Page 79 · Location 1195 my natural inclination is to pursue turmoil, the artificial, the drugs of noise and consumption.
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Flee the World > Page 80 · Location 1197 I also think about the ways I’ll fill any silent moment with activity, with scrolling a social media feed or watching a video on YouTube or reading reviews for the perfect replacement backpack. (I am a bit of a bag junkie.) I consider how I fill even my workspaces with background noise. In all this noise, is there room to hear the voice of hope? Is there space to catch the whisper of the Divine Love?
Highlight(yellow) - Seth: Flee the World > Page 80 · Location 1200 In his book Silence: In the Age of Noise, Dutch explorer Erling Kagge writes, “The starry sky ‘is the truest friend in life, when you’ve first become acquainted; it is ever there, it gives ever peace, ever reminds you that your restlessness, your doubt, your pains are passing trivialities.’” 3
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I’m not sure how to rate this book, as rating it seems like a desecration. These writers poured their hearts and souls out onto the page, beautifully. They ultimately weave a powerful story or several stories.
I think what ultimately keeps me from giving this a higher rating is that it is a beautiful memoir bookended by action items, which break up the experience of the text in a jarring way. Maybe there’s a place for them, but if I were the editor, I’d put them in an appendix in the back. They just don’t seem to fit. It’s not that they aren’t good, but they make the book feel like a self-help book, which it isn’t. It just kind of spoiled the experience for me.
All that being said, these folks are kindred spirits, and they should write more memoirs and essays. But without the action item style.
I had a difficult time following the writing style - the going back and forth between both authors, for some reason. I typically love that, but it may just be the season I’m in. I also think someone who understands and lives Catholicism would have an easier time identifying and grasping the concepts here. I ended up glossing over much of the content due to these references. There were a few snippets that encouraged me, but as a whole I really struggled with this book.
In this raw, personal book, Amber C. Haines and Seth Haines reflect on difficult times they have weathered together, sharing insights about how they have found hard-won solace during times of suffering. Amber reflects on her experience of sexual harassment and spiritual abuse in the church, writing about how difficult it was for her to leave her ordination process and face the ways that her church failed to support and affirm her when she spoke out about the abuse. She and Seth also write about his journey overcoming addiction, and about other challenging experiences they have gone through together. They also write about their journey into Catholicism, reflecting on ways that their beliefs have evolved over time.
Amber and Seth are both eloquent writers, and they share heartfelt, personal reflections that many people will relate to. I appreciate their honesty and depth, and they share helpful insights about practices they have found helpful. Some of these are specifically spiritual, such as choosing a patron saint, receiving communion, and visiting a sacred space, while others are more general, such as pursuing forgiveness from others and "naming the knots" of your difficult emotions. This book will appeal to people who are burnt out on typical self-help books, but who still want to anchor themselves with healing practices and grow from other people's wisdom.
The Deep Down Things features nine chapters, and each one starts with Seth's writing and ends with Amber's writing. Instead of trading off chapters or trying to merge their authorial voices into one, they each wrote a self-contained reflection for the same topic. I like this approach, but the book becomes repetitive at times, since some of their stories and explanations overlap, and since they often restate details from previous chapters in later ones. In addition to this, I felt like I was supposed to already "know" Amber and Seth from their previous books or online presence. I appreciated their deeply personal writing, but I frequently felt like I was missing context and was supposed to already be invested in the authors' lives.
This is a thoughtful, unique book. and I would recommend it to people who are interested in reflections on overcoming trauma, finding hope in difficult seasons, and connecting with God through embodied spirituality. Because so much of this book involves the authors' lives and personal experiences, this is much more of a memoir than a Christian living book, and people's mileage with this will vary based on their existing familiarity with the authors and how much they relate to their lives. Nonetheless, this book is full of heartfelt wisdom and encouragement for persevering in faith during times of hardship.
I received a free copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
The Deep Down Things reads as a collection of both memoir and spiritual truths. There is no denying that both Seth and Amber Haines are gifted wordsmiths and storytellers. Their ability to paint images with their text, convey emotions, and lead readers through the details makes this a interesting read.
It was also interesting to read of their journey through trauma, away from their Anglican service and into Roman Catholicism. While not all of the theology is going to line up with the majority of protestant readers, I appreciated the reminders of how many things, such as holy silence, transcend denomination and are just inherent to following Christ.
I also appreciated the honesty present in their stories. I was unfamiliar with the authors prior to this book, but the nature of this story required a vulnerability and openness that can sometimes inspire a glossing over or toxic positivity in contemporary religious books which was refreshingly absent from the Haines' work. Instead, I found their book to be willing not just to face the "deep down things" but open to sit and wrestle with them as each scenario required.
I did find it interesting that their chapter on forgiveness/reconciliation still tended more towards what I've seen in evangelical circles. Perhaps more fresh in my mind as I just finished another book on trauma, I was surprised to see more the traditional focus on the need to forgive, the work on the affected party's side, etc. While they did acknowledge the need of both parties involvement for reconciliation and a small mention of when healthy reconciliation cannot occur, I would have loved to see if there was anything in RC practice about healthy boundaries, recovering from trauma, and so on.
4 out of 5 stars.
Book was provided courtesy of Graf-Martin Communications, Inc. and Baker Publishing Group.
THE DEEP DOWN THINGS: PRACTICES FOR GROWING IN HOPE IN TIMES OF DESPAIR is a timely read that encourages readers to see their hard reality, rest in it, process and heal from it, but also to not give up on the return of hope.
Each chapter is split between reflections from Seth and Amber Haines over a common theme, and "practices" conclude each chapter to guide readers into practical ways to dwell on each theme.
On its surface, this can be viewed as an account of their conversion to Catholicism, but it also wrestles with the pain of being let down by individuals and systems, the grief in a lost vocation. Additionally, there are encouragements to be found in the example of the saints and artists such as Mary Magdalene and Gerard Manley Hopkins, as well as friends who help see you through.
I was particularly intrigued by the chapter on silence and also appreciated the analogy and the ministry of gardening. The Haines are transparent while also not naming individuals who have harmed them; this will be a welcome addition to books for individuals who have struggled through flawed religious systems and yet still find something to cling to.
(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)
“The Deep Down Things: Practice of Growing Hope in a Time of Despair” delves into the significance of nurturing hope amid adversity. The authors illustrates how hope can be cultivated through intentional practices, reflection, and community support, emphasizing that even in times of despair, individuals can find resilience and purpose.
In addition, their journey from Anglicanism to Catholic faith is was characterized by a search for deeper spiritual fulfillment and a desire for the sacraments and traditions unique to Catholicism. This transition involved a deepening understanding of theological principles, an appreciation for the history and rituals of the Catholic Church, and a personal quest for belonging within a faith community.
The undertones of challenge that revealed themselves through a process of healing in different expressions of this book, where unique conversation form the authors perspective.
Together, these themes highlight the interplay between personal faith journeys and the broader practice of cultivating hope in challenging times, illustrating how spiritual exploration can lead to renewed hope and purpose.
Written with depth, vulnerability, honesty, and poetic prose, this book holds resonance to our human journey- especially when we can indeed discover the deep down things amid the surface of grief and trauma- something I have been going through personally for too long. I did think the book was a bit too "religious-y" for my taste, but the authors do state clearly their own thought on what's meaningful for them in their beliefs, and understanding if the reader does not resonate. I was also a bit turned off by the jab to vegans, being a vegan myself, and the jab itself actually has nothing to do with being vegan. Many non-vegans do make misinformed comments like this one. No, what Amber was describing is not "terrible news for the vegans". Vegans, arguably more than others, understand deeply the ecosystems of life. One small ignorant comment in the whole book, but bothersome and unnecessary nonetheless. I also got lost a little in the readings, found it a bit dry at times. But overall, good.
The Deep Down Things: Practices for Growing Hope in Times of Despair by Amber C. Haines and Seth Haines is a memoir about betrayal, despair, grief, healing, and forgiveness. It’s a vulnerable and tender, personal story about leaving church due to abuse, betrayal, and gaslighting and finding God in the middle of all the loss and pain. Of finding a new path to walk as believers, of finding a new home in a different expression of the Body of Christ. Of discovering new ways to be in “the river of grief” and not despair. I really appreciated their vulnerability and honesty. They told their stories and it wasn’t a gossip fest or a badmouthing of church or Christians. They wrote with grace and I found it inspiring to read that more people are having their stories about the church’s dark side published. Not with the intent to destroy any church but to say these things happen. And that there are still things to love about church, still places of healing and restoration. I highly recommend this book!
Thanks to Brazos Press and NetGalley for the e-galley in exchange for an honest review.
Part memoir, part exposition, Amber and Seth take the reader by the hand and lead them gently down the path of grief and loss with equal parts vulnerability, honesty, and even humor. Their words are tender and true. I found myself resonating with so much of what they said, even though I haven't experienced the same type of sorrow. The prose is beautiful, the words profound. Even though I am not Catholic, I felt a deep appreciation for the healing they found in the walls of that faith, and even found many of the practices they suggested to be helpful, even if they weren't the same bent as my denomination. True, there are places where perhaps we differ on the theology of a topic, but they make much of Jesus and reveal the beauty in the differences of our faiths. Their tone is generous, allowing the reader to disagree while also asking them to consider how a catholic practice might just benefit them after all.
What you will find in these pages is resilience and hope.
I am finishing up reading The Deep Down Things: Practices for Growing Hope in Times of Despair by Amber and Seth Haines (husband and wife). This is a book that would benefit those most that have dealt with suffering or are going through suffering, and who hasn’t!? So really it is a book for all of us!
They share their story and how they learn to deal with suffering by the daily focus and practice of turning to hope in their Christian beliefs. It was interesting reading the two perspectives of dealing with suffering. One was going through hard times, and the other was there to help support the process. It would be great for a husband and wife to read together and be encouraged and learn from. It is part memoir and part teaching. Now, I won’t agree with everything, as I have different beliefs, but I am familiar with Catholicism. They were previous Protestant, but changed to Catholics.
The Haines write for those who want to reach into the marrow of things, not those content on the surface. They encourage us to reach down deep, especially in those moments that seem impossible to bear, and give us some practices to live in hope, to defy the darkness. As they shared their stories of deep pain and redemption, it reminded me of those places where my own wounds reside--where I still need to do the soul-work of opening them up to the Lord and allowing a posture of hope, rather than sealing them off while allowing the darkness to continue to fester. I loved the sacramentality of this book. There is so much more to this material world than is seen at first glance. But we must have the eyes to see and the courage to face that which lies beneath the surface. They remind us that richness we will encounter is immeasurable.
From the moment I heard the title, I knew I needed to read this book. Having gone through my own dark periods, I was interested in reading what Amber and Seth have to say…and I have not been disappointed. This is not a checklist, one and done, self-help book, but a vulnerable and gentle dialogue of how each of them experienced and worked through some of the toughest seasons of their lives. I am grateful that books like this exist-not a “everything happened for a reason and now things are great” approach. But an honest, relatable narrative of what it is like to wrestle with despair and discover that our stories are not yet finished.
I pre-ordered The Deep Down Things seven months ahead of the release date because I knew how much I needed this message of hope in seasons of despair. Amber and Seth are some of the most honest and trustworthy writers I know (I love Amber's book "Wild in the Hollows" and Seth's books "Coming Clean" and "The Book of Waking Up.") Instead of offering quick fixes or formulas or hacks, Amber and Seth offer simple yet meaningful practices that have been tried and tested through their own experiences. I want everyone I know to read this book. I know it is one that I will come back to again and again.
There are moments of great writing, but this book did not work for me on so many levels. The format of two very different voices, while potentially more balancing for representing a male and female perspective, was confusing, especially since each chapter stood alone for the idea it was trying to convey. While I understand personally the loss of thinking you would go into a professional Christian calling and then have the plan thwarted, I didn’t think that theme stuck throughout the book and so overall this is a very forgettable book and the encouraged practices at the end of each chapter felt like unnecessary ads-one.
First things: this is a beautiful book. The writing is poetic and the storytelling draws you in. The part that I perhaps didn’t expect so it just didn’t sit well with me was how this read very much like a memoir of the hurt from certain people and it seemed like the hurt was still too recent and raw. It reminded me at times of Prince Harry’s memoir, in which I felt like it was sharing the pain and hurt in a still processing way. The book also had a lot to do with this couple’s transition from the Protestant church to the Catholic Church, which I wasn’t aware would be part of the story. Interesting read and I especially loved the last chapter about fighting despair with hope and joy.
I loved this honest, funny, and yes, deep book by Amber and Seth Haines. Much more reverent than irreverent, but often both. And full of good ideas for spiritual practice and recovery, as well as experienced insights and reflections on a life of faith in the real world of pains and challenges, losses and abuse, and the effects of it all. My wife and I both read it, separately, but over roughly the same period, and it has provided much fodder for deep conversations. Thank you, Seth and Amber. Another great book by you both.
I was a fan of Seth’s book “The book of waking up”. It was fun to “check in on him” after the events in that book. The journey is continuing as we all know and to hear the deeper longings and struggles of him and Amber was profound. This book is just them, in all the nuance of pain and beauty. I enjoyed the rawness of them sharing and also in particular their losing/finding their religion. Bottom line if you can get raw, you’ll love this book. If that type of vulnerability challenges you, you should still give it a whirl.
Such a beautiful book! Seth and Amber share deeply and vulnerably about their journey of life and faith, both within the structures of church and outside them also. The writing is rich and layered and their stories are authentic and deeply relatable. While they are honest about the ugliness and pain they have experienced, the book is full of hope and wisdom- the kind of writing and reflection that is so very needed in the times we are living!
A raw, honest book, full of light and wisdom. Seth and Amber are gifted storytellers and salt-of-the-earth people. I myself am not Catholic, but was nonetheless inspired and encouraged greatly by their stories. I love how they teach us to find hope through simple, practical practices—whether it be through receiving communion or visiting places that are special to us. I have found deep comfort and hope for my own life in the beautiful pages of this book.
4.5 stars and I listened on audio, and highly recommend that experience as it is read by the authors.
This book met me at a point where I needed to be in the company of those who knew grief but were fighting for hope. I appreciated the stories, practices and truth of their experiences. The way they found Jesus was a comfort and encouragement for me. I will be purchasing a hard copy to return to later on and take slower.