Hi friends! It is with glad tidings of great joy that today is the day the I’ve Got Questions Guided Journal makes her way into the world.
It’s also very exciting because after this, you don’t have to hear me yap about my books for a minute. A respite we all can look forward to.
The best way I can tell you about the guided journal and about my heart for it is to give you a sneak peek of the introduction. I know people usually skip introductions (I am people 🙋🏻♀️), but if you’re wondering whether the guided journal is for you, it might help you make that decision. I also annotated it to give you a director’s cut version, as a little behind-the-scenes treatsie.
Excerpt from I’ve Got Questions Guided Journal: Prompts and Practices for Rewilding Your Faith © 2025 Baker Publishing
Out of all the things we manage in our daily lives, our faith is easily putdownable1.
That’s not a judgment statement; it’s the truth. Our lives are full of bills, group texts, kids, calendars, work, meetings, and all the things that sit at the very top of our to-do list in bright red letters.
Maybe you want to untangle your faith, but every time you consider it, a sense of overwhelm befalls you. Perhaps you want to ponder the questions of the universe, but you barely have time to take a shower2.
Doesn’t it always seem like there’s not enough caffeine stimulant in the universe to keep you awake long enough to think around matters of God, faith, church, and spirituality before you fall asleep?
Faith is one of those things we can put on the back burner, stick to the side, and put a pin in for later. It feels too big, too much, too unwieldy, and we simply do not have the margin, the enthusiasm, or the time. We know it’s important. Of course, it’s important. Working out our faith and articulating our beliefs is crucial to navigating life. It’s how we discern our priorities, choose political candidates, decide where our money should be spent, and how we orient ourselves in the world.
So yeah—faith is important, but it’s not “You forgot to pay the water bill again and we’re turning it off at midnight unless you do3” important.
In an ideal world, I’d whisk you away from the myriad of responsibilities, tasks, and alarms that make up most of life. I’d pull you away from “real life” and we’d abscond to some beautiful countryside villa4, where a rosy-cheeked woman named Ramona would feed us homemade granola with fresh berries5. Tears would be shed, hearts would be mended, sourdough would be started, our connection with God would be restored.
Sounds great, doesn’t it? Personally, I would not mind a hall pass from life with its flat tires and termite inspections6 and panic-inducing news cycles. But escaping from real life is not always feasible. So, we’re going to do what I believe is the next best thing.
I wrote the bones of this guided journal in 2021 and led a small cohort of diverse humans through it together online7. Single, married, queer, straight, with kids, child-free, old, young. Every participant had one thing in common: they wanted to untangle the knots of their faith.
If you’ve read my book, I’ve Got Questions: The Spiritual Practice of Having It Out with God8, you might know that a controlled burn is a low-intensity fire started intentionally to clear out an overgrowth that might otherwise spark an out-of-control fire. In other words, “it’s not a fire set toward destruction, but toward purposeful renewal.”9
This journal is for anyone who wants to do a controlled burn on the little plot of land of their faith. Together, we will strike the match and watch it burn. We will sift through what remains. We will toss out the detritus10. We will leech the soil of its poisons. We will forage for new growth. We will rewild our land and commit ourselves to taking an active role in an active faith with an active God.
There are a million ways you can use this journal (keep reading for more of that). These pages certainly don’t contain the answers of the universe or 152 insights into your soul11, but they will give you tools to begin the process of asking and working through your questions.
I don’t know where you’re at in your faith right now. You may not either. Still, you deserve to offer yourself the gift of trying to figure it out. During my own deconstruction, I didn’t want a checklist or a rule book. I wanted a friend, someone to help me think through what was churning around inside me.
This is me, offering myself as a friend to you12.
Let’s pick up the faith we so easily put down.
Let’s ask our questions together,
— Erin
Today is launch day, and if you pre-ordered, guess what? You’re eligible to join our private cohort, where we’ll start walking through the guided journal together on September 1. If you’ve not signed up for your pre-order bonuses, you can do that here AND as a Lil Prezzie for my Lil Swipes, if you order today, I’ll let you sneak in for being a newsletter subscriber. Come join a couple hundred of your internet besties as we walk through our religious trauma in the most fun way possible.
If you have any questions about the guided journal or the cohort or something unrelated, please throw them in the comments and I will be happy to answer them.
The reason publishers let me write books is, and this is not hyperbolic, because of you. Because you show up here, you are so kind to me, and you let me invade your inbox. So thank you. I really left it all on the field for I’ve Got Questions and the guided journal, and I’m really grateful for the ways you’ve shown up for me this year. I wish I could buy every single one of you an Edible Arrangement, but for now, an earnest, hand-over-my-heart “thank you” will have to suffice.
This is not a real word, as evidenced by Microsoft Word trying to change it to punting.
The story of my actual life.
She says, with authority.
Italian, I think?
I once went to Andrew Peterson’s Hutchmoot retreat, and a beautiful woman there named Evie made the absolute best yogurt parfait I’ve ever had in my life. She told me the secret was that she added vanilla bean and fresh-squeezed orange juice to the yogurt, and I STILL make my yogurt parfaits like that. An absolute gamechanger. Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about when I wrote this.
NOTHING gives me more adult anxiety than the termite inspection.
Some of you were in that little cohort, and I hope you know I literally dedicated this journal to you.
When you write a book, they let you reference yourself, which truly should be illegal. Go to smug jail.
And quote yourself like an a-hole!
For years, I pronounced “detritus” as “detrius.” Not important, but I felt the need to confess.
NY152!
As cornball as this is, I really do mean it.
I literally walked out to my mailbox in the pitch dark of 530 in the forest this morning to see if Baker had gotten mine to me despite my last minute address change last week. They did! I really think this will be a great recommendation for people wanting to literally work through their former faith possibly finding a new one in a unique way from the beautiful original book. Thank you Erin and all!
N-Y-1-5-2... 152...He's 152 years old...
Now, I have to watch You've Got Mail again. Lol