Perhaps you thought the self-checkout lane at Lowe’s was the quick route from your purchase of squirrel repellent to your car, but you were wrong. Minutes later the scanner is not working properly and you have to wait on an attendant to fix the problem. Waiting. Everyone has to wait: for events, weddings, promotions, graduations, and groceries. In his new book The In-Between, author Jeff Goins examines waiting, the in-between time between what’s past and what’s next.

Goins captures the longing of our own hearts as we eagerly wait for the next big thing but miss the opportunity for what’s right in front of us. He writes, “We all want a great story to tell our grandchildren. But many of us fail to recognize that the best moments are the ones happening right now” (p. 17). Written with a moving narrative about early memories of waiting, discovering that slowing down in Seville was better for his life, and fondly appreciating the full wisdom of two elderly church members, this book is sure to open your eyes wide if you are willing to slow down to take it all in.

Goins immediately confronts the tension of searching for the big story but missing what’s in front of our noses in the first chapter by relaying a story about an exchange trip to Seville. Early on we meet Loli, a Spanish woman who bakes amazing tostado, takes her time with Our Daily Bread in the morning, and offers her entire house to two boys (Goins and his roommate Daniel). The frenetic pace of seeking to squeeze out every minute in Seville left Goins tired. For this reason, he writes, “Life’s mundane moments—ordinary times of TV-watching (with Loli) and breakfast-eating—can be embraced as a slow, deliberate, beautiful way of life if we pay attention and see what’s really there” (p. 39). In all his striving for adventure, staying at home with his host family brought more dividends than any jaunt to the nearby club for Goins. And this—the beauty in the ordinary, grace in the mundane—is at the heart of the book’s message. Often, we get the picture that life is only fully lived with our necks straining toward the finish line and our last gasp of energy exerted. Yet this bewildering pace leaves us weary of seeing the in-between moments whether they be enjoying a slice of baked bread or enjoying our child’s smile after a game of Chutes and Ladders.

Brimming with hope, Goins weaves together the story of when he was playing in a band and, having a few days off in NYC, visited St. Paul’s Cathedral. This church “had miraculously survived the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2011—despite the fact that it was in the heart of Ground Zero” (p. 69). Hope in an unlikely place was St. Paul’s Cathedral smack dab in the middle of the rubble. For Jeff, this reminder of hope between the big concerts and travel was where God was working in his life. For “God cared more about who I was becoming than what I was doing at the time” (p. 69). The realization in the seemingly quiet moments between the roaring of life’s powerful engine that God is molding us in profound ways is earth-shattering for many. Goins helps us see that there is a reorientation of our entire person, from our passions to our mindful meanderings when we slow down to relish the times in-between. Yet this happens to us through small seemingly insignificant moments.

My only main critique of the book is related to the theme of waiting in the larger stories we believe. I resonate with the author’s struggle between waiting and the thing that comes next. Yet I also wonder how larger narratives like the story of Israel sojourning in the wilderness, waiting in expectation, often grumbling, relate to this major theme of seeking wisdom in the moments in between.

Throughout the book are short snippets of the lives of many people who are battling with the hopes for the future and relishing the time in-between. With wisdom and storytelling that makes you want to read it again, The In-Between is a wise and strengthening read.

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