Sarah Westfall

Jun 19

12 min read ⭑

“We all need to rediscover what it looks like to be home to one another — in our families, our friendships, our neighborhoods and in the wider world. We could all use a little more welcome and a softer way of being with one another, especially in the midst of all that threatens to diminish and divide.”

Sarah E. Westfall describes herself as a writer, perpetual question-asker, and lover of food and good conversation. She spends her professional time writing for her Human Together newsletter, hosting podcasts, thinking up new books, and writing articles for publications like RELEVANT, (in)courage, and FathomMag. There are few like her who can so easily bring a sense of peace, hope, and the presence of God into her writing and speaking. She’s bringing that same spirit to Rapt, too, as she shares a new way Christians could approach belonging, her dependence on regular cycling classes, and her newfound love of a practice called spiritual direction.

QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

There’s much more to food than palate and preference. How does a go-to meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind the web bio?

Oh, goodness. I grew up in a family whose days and conversations revolved around food. In fact, my sisters and I still text each other most days to share something good we’ve cooked or eaten, so I could talk about food for days.

Almost all my favorite places to be and eat are downtown. I love the vibrancy and diversity that seems to be alive in the heart of our small city. I grew up about 20 minutes north of where we live now, and after moving away to Tennessee for several years, it’s been a delight to rediscover a city that was once familiar and enjoy all the ways it has grown and changed.

There’s one place in particular — Union Street Market — where my husband, Ben, and I frequently go to co-work and grab a midday lunch date while our four boys are in school. The space used to be a major industrial building for General Electric, but it’s now a really eclectic gathering space with a wide range of restaurants, retailers, businesses, and open workspaces. It’s also home to my favorite local coffee spot, Conjure Coffee.

I really enjoy the food and the opportunity to support local merchants, but it is more than that. There’s something about the space’s history and what it’s meant for our city that really draws me in and makes me want to be a part of where our community is headed. The whole atmosphere makes my creativity and sense of connectedness come alive.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activity (or activities) do you love engaging in, which also help you find essential spiritual renewal?

In the last year or so, I started taking indoor cycling classes at our local YMCA. I have never, ever been a person who enjoys exercising with others (if I am exercising at all). I like to go at my own pace. I like variety. But these spin classes have been a game-changer for me.

I did not expect how much I would enjoy them and how the whole experience would bring so much wholeness to my overall well-being. My personality tends to cave inward. My mind and emotions can be a really busy place, but when I’m in class, the workouts are so intense and active that I cannot entertain a single thought in my brain other than, “Keep moving.” And while saying that out loud, I realize it might sound pretty horrible. But it’s been really helpful for me in turning off my brain and being a good outlet for anxieties I didn’t always know I was carrying in my body.

Plus, I’m finding a type of community there as well. My friend Kathleen has started coming with me on Mondays, and I’m seeing the same people week after week. We have gotten to know each other like puzzle pieces we’re slowly collecting over time. They know when I’m not there and vice versa, so when I miss a week or two, they ask where I’ve been. And I like that. I like that feeling of being seen and known, even in those small ways.

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness. Every human, too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re broken and in this thing together. So what’s your kryptonite, and how do you hide it?

My mom once told me that, as a kid, I intimidated her because I gave the impression that I did not need her. She didn’t know how to parent me because, as a firstborn high-achiever, I did many things myself and kept her at arm’s length. Looking back, I have always had a fierce independence, and while I know that can be widely celebrated in our culture, that independence has not served me well, especially within relationships with people or even with God. To this day, that impulse to hide behind the appearance of having it all together always seems to be nearby.

But I’ve found that my independence was (and is) rooted in the fear of transparency and intimacy. So often when I try to “go it alone,” that decision is not strong or brave or wise but a means of self-protection against getting hurt. If I look beneath the layers of that independence, what I find is a deep desire for connection — to be safe, seen, respected, and enjoyed for who I really am.

It was not until a season of intense grief, when we lost our second-born son 13 years ago, that I began to see the gift of being held. I discovered the joy of not having to hold it all together but letting God and others witness the raw, unvarnished, and less-than-lovely parts of myself. I learned to be loved by sitting together on couches and saying yes to chicken casseroles.

The inclination toward independence is still there. It’s always a temptation when I feel insecure or unsteady within myself. But I’m getting better at recognizing what is beneath the urge to do it alone. I am getting better at embracing the goodness of being a person in need and saying the questions I carry out loud.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your current obsession? And why should it be ours?

For a long time, I questioned what it really looks like to belong. My personality is inclined to feel out of place before I even enter a room because I wonder if I will be wanted. I perceive my own longing for human connection as lack rather than this beautiful and communal longing placed within us by God himself. I thought maybe I had just not found the right place or the right people.

But a few years ago, in the midst of writing through some of these questions, I read The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen, and in that book, he invites us to consider what it might look like not only to come home to the Father but also to be the home of Father. As I began to contemplate that question, something in me clicked. I began to see belonging not as something I was waiting for others to hand to me but as a way to be in the world.

Out of that writing and wrestling, I wrote a book called The Way of Belonging: Reimagining Who We Are and How We Relate in partnership with the really great team at InterVarsity Press. It’s part personal narrative, part research and part spiritual practice. But what I really hope this book offers is a gentler path for us to approach belonging — not as something to attain, but as a divine welcome that is already ours to embrace and extend in the middle of our everyday lives.

I don’t know about you, but I think we all need to rediscover what it looks like to be home to one another — in our families, our friendships, our neighborhoods and in the wider world. We could all use a little more welcome and a softer way of being with one another, especially in the midst of all that threatens to diminish and divide. I would love to have others enter the conversation with me and consider what it might look like to belong differently — to ourselves, to God and to each other.

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it’s God when it happens?

I think there’s usually a measure of not-knowing in my work because the presence of God is so often subtle and beneath the surface, nudging me more than pushing me along. I’m not always great at paying attention, so I don’t know if I could say I am ever certain about how and when God moves through my words and work. But I am often settled.

When I’m writing, I have this internal barometer somewhere between my heart and my gut that tells me when a chapter, paragraph or sentence isn’t quite right. There’s an unsettledness that taps me incessantly on the shoulder that won’t leave me alone (sometimes for days or weeks) until I have a moment of clarity and words that once seemed jumbled arrive more clearly, more right.

Sometimes clarity comes while I’m writing, but more often, it’s when I’ve taken a break. I walk around a nearby lake or busy my hands chopping onions for dinner, and somehow, in those moments, the fog breaks, the words appear, and my soul whispers, “This.”

And while I know that might sound incredibly hippy-dippy (it probably is), that’s how I think the Holy Spirit works within me. In wrestling with words and clarifying whispers as storms settle in my heart and mind. It’s not formulaic or predictable, but more of a gentle knowing that seems to pass between God and me. And it feels like freedom — a welcoming exhale after I’ve been holding my breath.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied habits that open our hearts to the presence of God. So let us in. Which spiritual practice is working best for you right now?

I have a tendency to get really stuck inside my head, often to the detriment of my body. Because I’m currently in a very busy season of releasing my first book into the world (while also having all four boys home for summer), tending to my physical self is often the first thing to go. I find a hundred excuses as to why I should not go to cycle class, take a walk or take 10 minutes to stretch my back, and as a result, I end up feeling incredibly lopsided in my humanity, and my internal noise becomes very loud.

Moving is a spiritual practice that is so essential for my ability to be present and attentive to God in this season. Movement matters. Even when I don’t want to do it. Even if it doesn’t look the same every day. I think it was Abraham Heschel who wrote about how we who work with our heads need to rest with our hands (and vice versa), and I have found this wisdom to be oh-so-true. So whether I run, go to spin class, take a walk, or simply go outside and pull weeds, I have found that simple, daily movement helps turn down my internal volume and engage my body in the act of living. Plus, it gives me more space to appreciate the goodness and with-ness of God that is already here.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Looking backward, considering the full sweep of your unique faith journey and all you encountered along the way, what top three resources stand out to you? What changed the game and changed your heart? What radically altered your life? What changed your reality?

So many things have played a part in my spiritual and personal formation over the years, but I think that if I had to narrow it down to a few resources that are top of mind right now, here’s what I would say:

Back in 2012, I read Skye Jethani’s book With alongside some co-workers. My husband, Ben, and I were in the wake of our intense season of grief, and having experienced the depth of God’s love in my personal darkness, I was beginning to see a different way of relating to God. With gave me a vision of God and a language for spiritual formation that was not performative and didn’t hinge on my good behavior or right beliefs.

I would love everyone to know and read the words of Lore Ferguson Wilbert. She is truly one of my favorite modern writers who explores humanity, spiritual formation, and what it means to be people of the earth. She has a deep love for Jesus that has weathered many trials and is an incredibly spacious friend. Her most recent book, The Understory, is stunning.

As a writer, I am incredibly inspired by the artistry of musician Jon Batiste. I discovered his music just a couple of years ago and quickly became a fan. Earlier this year, Ben and I — along with our friends Megan and Nathan — went to see Jon in concert for his World Music Radio tour. I do not say this lightly: the whole experience was transcendent. Joy was alive and electric throughout the entire venue. It was an incredible shared experience, and I walked away deeply inspired by what good art can be and what creativity offers our humanity.

We all have things we cling to to survive (or even thrive) in tough times—times like these! Name one resource you’re savoring and/or finding indispensable in this current season, and tell us what it’s doing for you.

Spiritual direction was not a term I heard until I was well into my 30s. While this spiritual practice of co-listening has a long and rich history, it was not on my radar within the particular faith communities I was part of. But a couple of years ago, I agreed to be a guinea pig for a friend who was getting her master’s degree in spiritual formation and needed a directee to practice alongside.

As we sat together, I discovered a welcoming space to encounter God in the presence of another person. In getting still, I was able to see and discern things that were bubbling just beneath the surface. Through her open-ended questions and room for silence, I discovered what it looked like to go to the depths of myself to encounter God and to be witnessed in a way I did not realize my soul craved.

That first experience with spiritual direction had an expiration date from the beginning due to my friend’s program requirements. But I soon began to miss it, so this year, I decided to find a local spiritual director. We are still fairly new to one another, but even so, I feel like I’ve found someone who speaks a common language. Once a month, she sits with me in her living room, and we turn our attention to Jesus right there and right then. And what I find within this co-listening and act of spacious presence is an attentiveness to the nearness of God and sacredness within the now.

I cry a lot. I cry often. Sometimes, I don’t know why. But what’s so beautiful in this spiritual direction relationship is the willingness for one person to be a witness to another as we learn to perceive the manifest presence of God. It’s a gift. Truly.

QUESTION #8: dream

God is continually stirring new things in each of us. So give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

I have always been a perpetual question-asker. I want to know what’s happening beneath the surface of things, and many of my questions these days circle around spiritual formation in the context of community. Many also directly involve the church, so I want to continue to explore what this communal life could really look like, both in my writing and on my podcast Human Together. I hope some of these questions turn into more books somewhere along the way.

My big, big, dare-I-say-it dream is to have and host a retreat center one day. A place where individuals and groups can have a beautiful space for rest and respite, where their weariness and wrestling are welcomed. I imagine a place where people can be fully human, all the way down, and where they find (again and again) how deeply they are loved.

When we ask interviewees about their favorite spiritual practices, many respond with variations of “silence and stillness” or “community.” But it’s not often we hear of a combination of those two.

Why is that? Why do we as humans feel that, to be with other people, we must constantly be talking or laughing or filling the silence? What if, as Sarah described when she spoke of spiritual direction, we instead got comfortable with being still alongside each other, asking and responding to strategic questions, and quietly seeking the presence of God together?

Our recommendation? Try it this week. Find a trusted friend or spiritual advisor and commit to quietly seeking God’s presence together for a specific amount of time. You may discover a new level of fellowship with Jesus. In fact, we know you will.

Sarah E. Westfall is a writer, speaker, and host of the Human Together podcast. She is the author of The Way of Belonging: Reimagining Who We Are and How We Relate. Her previous work includes serving as director of community for online creative spaces and as a student development professional on college campuses. She has been published in RELEVANT, Fathom Mag, and (in)courage. Sarah lives in Indiana with her husband, Ben, and four sons.

Justin Camp