About Me

Hey there! Thanks for stopping by. I’m Lucy, an editor by trade and a writer at heart. (If you’ve got a freelance project that needs some prose or a proofread, email me. Let’s chat a little and see if we’d be a good fit!)

I’m a proud (and sometimes silly) aunt, the friend who takes way too long to answer texts but more than makes up for it in person, the sister who insists you wait to see the new Power Rangers movie with her, and the favorite daughter (OK, fine, the only daughter). I’m a great sinner who has a great Savior, and some days I can barely wrap my head around that. I write so I can think, and I think a lot about Jesus.

To Live Quietly was mainly inspired by 1 Thessalonians 4:9-12:

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.

I am drawn to this rather novel concept of the quiet life. I am the classic sinner in that my instinct is to make much of my own self, to Be Somebody and Accomplish Much. My default is to say, Look at me. And yet the gospel turns everything on its head, so that the quiet life is the holy life, the still, small voice that proclaims, Look at Jesus.

I am hard of hearing, and there is always this weird tension of not really being hearing, not really being Deaf. (Deaf spelled with a big “D” means something entirely different than deaf spelled with a little “d,” so to avoid confusion, I prefer to say I am hard of hearing.) And so To Live Quietly becomes something of an inside joke, a sly wink to my hearing aids. Make no mistake, though — I can carry on a conversation, listen to music, and put my vocal cords to good use. But without my hearing aids in, there is only silence. It’s like having my own built-in mute button, and I am A-OK with that.

And finally, I’ve found myself calling this little space TLQ, because it’s faster to type, but also because it looks like it could be pronounced “talk.” So, let’s talk, you and I, of what great things God has done, of who He is, of when He will be with us again.

And sneak bits of Nutella here and there.

Amen.