Awake: A Memoir
By Jen Hatmaker
A Review by Dwight A. Moody
I had never heard of Jen Hatmaker, in the same sense I was unfamiliar with Charlie Kirk. Both were stars in the Evangelical firmament, but I have long since left that universe, even though I live in one of the most religiously conservative cities in America—Greenville, South Carolina. Both could have, and perhaps did, come here to speak and I would not have known about it.
That probably is an overstatement, because both names might have been vaguely familiar, but I don’t recall. One thing is for certain: I had never listened to a single Kirk podcast and had never read a single Hatmaker sentence.
Until my sister contacted me with this recommendation: “I think you would like this.” She was referring to an interview with Hatmaker. I could never manage the technology to access that recording, so I opted for the old fashion kind: a book. Her new book, Awake: A Memoir, was published just a month ago, to great fanfare. I ordered it off Amazon and dug right in.
The opening pages are gripping, how she awoke one night to the sound of her husband’s voice speaking to his girlfriend. They were in year 27 of their Christian marriage and Christian ministry. It had been pretty much a fairy tale: everything done just the way Christian parents wanted it to be done. Except something went wrong, and that is the part Hatmaker never explores. Why would such a marriage implode? What happened in the relationship, in her, in him, around them? The book offers very little self-reflection about these things.
About purity culture, there is plenty of commentary, all of it critical. About her ignorance about household finances, there is plenty of commentary, all of it rather comical. In fact, there is a great deal of humor in the book, and a good bit of judicious use of four-letter words. A lot of things came loose when the marriage (and the ministry) fell apart.
Hatmaker writes at some length about the spiritual journey that the breakup inaugurated, including the confession that this embarrassing disaster motivated her to stay home from church, from church of any kind. This is a place that called for more reflection: what is it about church life that makes attendance and participation hard for people dealing with failure and shame and loss. That is a question pressing upon all of us who are leading Christian community.
Hatmaker does give eloquent testimony to the importance of friends, something many people do not have, at least, not enough of the close friends needed to survive and thrive during a major marital meltdown. She writes wonderfully about her girlfriends (although, in the end, there is a friend of another kind). What stands out is not the religious side of their friendship but the silly side, the crazy, even goofy things those friends did to, well, be friends, be present, be the source of the strength and distraction Hatmaker needed. This entire book is a testament to friendship, and that makes the book worth any price.
The best part, though, is the single chapter of 190 words titled “Young Me.” I have read it a half dozen times, including on my own Sunday morning podcast. It is an appeal for all of us to be merciful to the earlier versions of ourselves, those people who thought things, did things, and said things that today cause us embarrassment, even shame. But those people, those earlier versions of who we are today were doing the best they could do, and by doing so, helped us get where we are today. This is a great lesson, perhaps the most valuable lesson to be learned in this narrative of fall and redemption. Have mercy on the person you were 30 years ago!
Thank you, Jen Hatmaker. I know who you are now, and if (and when) you come to Greenville SC, I hope I know about it so I can make your acquaintance and hear about the next chapter in your remarkable life. God bless you, real good!
