I think many of us have found the last year and a half trying times for our souls. Between lockdowns and Covid guidelines restricting the ways and means we could connect with our church families and dear friends, a turbulent political climate that has exposed some of our loved ones' worst sides and ugliest behaviors, and the currents of fear, uncertainty, and grief flowing through it all, I doubt I was the only one looking for a course correction to the spiritual drift I felt. Christine Caine's book How Did I Get Here? seemed like a timely answer, to the point that my mom, sister, and I all committed to reading it chapter by chapter and discussing it.
Those intentional hours together and the conversations they contained were precious, but they were virtually the only value gained from reading this book.
Caine has good intentions, I'm sure. But her book is first and foremost crippled by the fact that she hasn't experienced what she is writing about. She begins the first chapter with a personal narrative about her desire to "ring the bell" and opt out of the challenging life surrendered to God. Only, as it becomes abundantly clear throughout the book (and most openly crystalized in Chapter 9), what she is really reacting and responding to is ministry burnout. It's quite understandable for someone in several high-intensity ministries like Christine Caine to struggle with, but it's not the same thing as spiritual drift. You don't have to actually walk away from the faith to get to the point where you understand how someone could want to, how it could happen even to someone who seems spiritually grounded and mature, but it's clear that Caine hasn't experienced any level of this, and at times falls over herself to assure the reader that of course she's never actually drifted, that of course she's never doubted God, never had protracted pauses in her spiritual disciplines, never wrestled with bleak spiritual questions only to receive no answers and struggled to hand those questions back to God. Instead, we get self-assured passages like "I am thankful that even though it has never been easy, every time I have recognized a wound might be seeping, I have asked God for healing" (p. 56) or "...I can assure you...I have never been able to walk away...Even when I wanted to ring the bell as badly as I thought I wanted to, I could not." (p. 81)
I believe that Caine thinks she's positioning herself as an encouraging older sister - I did it, so can you! - but instead it reveals the lack of true vulnerability she displays throughout this book. Every chapter begins with a long, extended, drawn-out "personal narrative," some sort of story about Caine's husband, daughters, or family background. There's a lot of information handed over to the reader, but nearly all of the anecdotes put Caine in a good, or at least neutral light while painting someone else in a less flattering light, whether it's a friend, a friend of a friend, her Goldfish-loving daughters (seriously, that chapter was actually triggering to me as a person who struggles with an unhealthy relationship to food), or her wacky Greek family. There's simultaneously a desire to overshare (it's not uncommon for these stories to consume a full half of the chapter's length) and an unwillingness to let any real ugliness to be seen. Any personal struggles she does let slip through are scrubbed free of specifics and framed in nice, neat Sunday School language so they can be hung up on the wall as past victories.
The overemphasis on personal stories that rarely go anywhere constructive helps mask how little actual meat there is to each topic. The flow of each chapter goes roughly like this: a long, rambling story, most likely involving Caine's husband, children, or being Greek, or maybe more than one, followed by Caine awkwardly trying to turn something in that story into a metaphor or analogy. After 10 - 20 pages of that, we will get a shift into the "lesson" portion, where Caine will throw in some Scripture, attempt to analyze it, and then make a stab at application, usually by throwing in some shorter life example. This will all probably be under five pages. The most frustrating part is that while Caine does a serviceable job at correctly diagnosing spiritual problems (prayerlessness, control issues, spiritual wounding, etc.), she offers next to no practical solutions. Sometimes, the solution is self-evident enough - pray more, read the Bible more, etc. - and sometimes she adds enough Scripture that the power of God's Word is effective even when her own words aren't really adding anything. But most of the time, we are left with a sort of awkward exhortation to... not struggle with the thing we might be struggling with.
There are other things I could say, but I don't want to be petty. I choose to believe Caine wrote this book out of good intentions and a desire to encourage others to follow Christ better. That's admirable. But her lack to true to connection to her topic and her choice to perform vulnerability rather than be truly vulnerable strip this book of most of the transformative power it could have had.