Lore Ferguson Wilbert's writing style is beautiful, as she walked through the wet woodland I could smell the damp air and picture vividly every footstep and fungi. This is a book to take in slowly, to read and then spend some time pondering and applying. I appreciated the authors honesty and vulnerability.

Thank you to the Author, Publisher and NetGalley UK for a free ebook in exchange for an honest review.

I am an orphaned believer. I was raised in the American evangelical church and I am a queer person living in a body in the world as it is right now. I have my own history and traumas associated with that. In my adult life, I find god more in the quiet and subtle moments as opposed to searching out the profound divine happenstance that exists in the stories of the Bible. I talk to god while I’m in the shower. Or while I’m driving. But probably especially when I’m in nature. I feel god most closely when I’m in the silent solitude of his greatest creation.

Lore puts to words some of the most beautiful thoughts that intermingle my experiences of the divine and the natural world that we live in. The Understory is all at once a memoir and a spiritual experience and a call to action to protect all that god entrusted to us. You can tell, deeply, that she did her homework before putting her pen to paper. Not only was this a discussion and a commentary and a criticism, it was also a teaching moment. I learned so much. And I felt so much. And I felt seen and held and understood in all of my messy moments that I work through best when I’m walking in the woods. I would love to go hiking with Lore someday. To ponder the wonder all around us. To ponder god and his creation. To bask in the glory and wonder of it all.

I loved every second of this experience. And, having read all of Lore’s published long form work, she is an autobuy author for me. We are so lucky that she is here and that she is willing to walk with us.

Taught by the beauty and death that coexist on the forest floor, The Understory is Lore Wilbert’s weaving of her own experiences during the pandemic and her response to the political unrest and church-based angst that followed. Her beautifully written accounts of resilience, rootedness, and malleability in the natural world serve readers with both comfort and challenge.

Whether we’ve moved geographically, changed church affiliations, experienced loss, or are simply navigating very personal upheaval, our hearts long for stability. The understory of a forest, the growth that lives beneath the canopy, and even the soil, litter, and compost hold messages of “health and wisdom and indwelling light”

Fortunately, Wilbert resists the urge to derive “ten easy lessons for abundant living” from her observations on old-growth forests and whatever might be happening under the shadow of a gorse bush. Instead, she shares the record of her own grief, pain, and regret and, having done the research, is qualified to report that “pain is a part of development” and “however awful and terrible our pain is, God redeems pain.”

I really enjoyed this book, though I do not think I was the I tended audience! As someone not big into nature, I could still appreciate the theological connections to trees.

Thank you to the author and to NetGalley for a free advanced copy in exchange for my feedback!

I adore Lore's writing, and her reflections on creation in this book felt very grounding. There's a tie to God's earth, its creatures, its plants and trees, that we've largely lost touch with. I read this book one chapter at a time, praying it would help me remember.

This book is not one to read through quickly. It is a book to read some, ponder much and go back through again and again. Much like taking a walk through a cool forest, the author writes observing and analyzing what she is seeing and experiencing particularly with grief. It does not feel like a heavy book though. She handles it with compassion and without a push to take action. She nudges and questions and you're in the process before you realize you've began.

One of my favorite quotes: "Solivitur ambulando. It is solved by walking."

Ecce adsum. “Behold, here I am.” Present, rooted, at peace, in place. Growing. Alive. When darkness and difficulty surround us, what does it look or feel like to be alive in its midst?

This was a beautiful read. It’s a slow stroll through the deep woods, a mindful meditation of the forest floor. It’s part nerdy science (which I love), part contemplative practice, and part personal journey, which somehow feels like my own. It's an invitation to saunter slowly through our own wilderness, ever present to and aware of the life teeming around us, most of all in the presence of death and decay.

Skillfully directing our attention to both the macro and micro, Wilbert weaves stories of life, death, and resurrection over hundreds of years through the life of old growth trees, the nourishing work of underground networks of fungi carefully feeding the forest floor, and details the beauty and alchemy of lichen growth.

Her mindfulness of humble dirt and its making through decomposition is a reminder of our inherent interconnectedness and interdependence. In observing the hidden life in rich soil, we are provided a glimpse of resurrection at work in the aftermath of death and deconstruction. In understanding the detrimental effects of a monoculture, we gain the openness, wildness, and benefits of true diversity.

By carefully examining the understory, Wilbert reveals what Thomas Merton calls “a hidden wholeness” not just in a ll things, but in death. She wrestles with complexity and nuance around ideas like grief, loss, death, decay, deconstruction, and belonging.

This book felt spacious. Inviting. Refreshing. Restful. Like a well-earned panoramic view from the summit. If you’re looking for a fresh look at faith, deconstruction, and the possibility of new life, take a slow stroll through The Understory.

In this beautiful book, Lore invites the reader to come alongside her as she processes her grief and explores what is means to grow back again after. My grief looks different than hers, but this book was no less poignant. I found this little tome so encouraging and hopeful, and it is one I will surely be coming back to again and again. 100% recommend!

This book was not what I thought it was going to be. Somehow I hadn't realized the extent of the musing about nature, trees etc. It is thoughtful and insightful. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it for I did. I doubt I would read this author again though. I might peruse her work though a bit.
Thanks you to Net Galley for allowing me to read this book. The opinions are entirely my own.

In 2019, I walked through what most would call a church split. More accurately, I walked through a me-split, as the fallout from that one singular event split me wide open. This split would see me spending years fighting deep woundings and wrestling out my disenchantment with organized religion and the church at large. I even questioned if I still had faith. And then 2020 came. And with it came more shifting, more shaking, more falling apart. Any semblance of normalcy was shredded, and more fuel was added to the fire of questions and disbelief and uncertainty. In just about every way possible, I lost myself. Lore’s words were a constant, gentle companion through it all for me. (I actually find it rather uncanny how each of her books met me in my journey through this time, but that’s a story for a different day, I guess. If you haven’t read them, they’re all worthy of your time and attention.) Back to The Understory. This beautiful guide has brought me to tears more times than I can count as it has wrapped words around the human experience (my experience) of loss and the life that springs forth from those losses. If you’ve felt side swept by our cultural landscape, this book is for you. If you’ve been hurt, this book is for you. If you wonder if anything good can come from what you’ve deemed bad or unredeemable, this book is for you. Lore’s voice is wise counsel, and she can be trusted. Don’t hesitate to pick up this beautiful companion.

My Thoughts:
I admire people who are willing and courageous to write about the hard parts of their lives. No person has a perfect life. But a writer who publishes a book revealing the underlayer of their lives, and this includes traumatic events, is courageous and it must feel exposing. This is the first reason why I love The Understory, Lore Ferguson Wilbert is willing to be transparent about her life, especially in regard to her feelings about the current culture and politics in the Church, because the Church is not in unity about all issues.

Who is the audience?
1. People who are eclectic in reading and don’t mind opinions outside their own about politics.
2. People who lean towards moderate or liberal views.

What I love about The Understory:

1. The quotes shared in the book by different authors and poets. Some examples are St. John of Damascus, John Muir, Madeleine L’Engle, Mary Oliver, Wendell Berry, Walt Whitman, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Henry David Thoreau, William Bradford, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and Richard Powers.
I collect quotes. I love reading quotes in books. I feel Wilbert is well-read and an exploratory reader because of the lengthy list of people she includes in the book. I love this.
2. Wilbert is transparent in her writing. Her writing style is relaxed and personable. She is in conversation with the reader. At times it comes across as stream of consciousness writing.
3. The narrative writing style pauses for teachings on the ecosystem of the forest, or a hiking and kayak experience. This gives a break or pause from the serious.
4. Wilbert during the writing of this book is wrestling with some things in her life. The reader journeys with her.
5. I agree with her about telling the truth. As a writer it is important to tell the truth.
6. The Understory is a book of kindness and compassion for those who have experienced Church trauma (Post Traumatic Church Disorder), an abusive childhood, and the ending of friendships.

This book is poetry. Lore packs so much goodness into a small number of words. I loved the reflections on grief and longing and the connections that Lore drew to nature. A beautiful, contemplative journey that left me with a sense of wonder and appreciation for my own smallness- similar to how I feel when I walk through a forest.

Though hard to find, as it reads in so many fits and starts, the understory of the understory is good food for thought. That's definitely intentional, and in many ways makes sense for it being a book of field notes, more likes short blurbs or captions/reflections placed one after another... but unlike a book of essays (which I love to read), for me that particular style is a struggle.

I love (!!!) reading Lore's reflections on so many topics, as it's clear that she is thoughtful and intentional, but was very surprised and bummed to find SO many quotes in every single chapter. I wanted more of Lore's words, not three sentences and then another from someone else (etc). For me it felt like a ping pong ball going back and forth fifteen times (most chapters had 15 quotes, though the chapters themselves are short) when I picked up Lore's book to read more from Lore. This seems to be a common frustration among other reviewers, too, as they also felt distracted or confused to be reading so much of other people, particularly in a smaller book.

All that said, Lore is a thoughtful companion, inviting the reader to consider even if their views do not align, and there were multiple underlines by the end.

While reading this book, I felt like the author was speaking my language. Through reflections on personal life events, botany, and the current, divisive political landscape, I was drawn to the depth of compassion in seeking understanding despite vastly differing viewpoints. Using nature, the forest floor in particular, as a metaphor for unity, Lore invites the reader to have a seat at her table for a conversation. While this book had more discussion on politics than I expected or liked, it was still an engaging read, and I have recommended it to friends. Lore's writing is thought-provoking and vulnerable in a way that doesn't shut down discourse, which is something I appreciate.

A Good Mix of Nature, Memoir, and Thoughtfulness (Also posted on amazon.com - https://www.amazon.com/review/R191PY9OMWZLUN )

Lore Wilbert has such a good way of writing. She thinks well and deeply and then writes clearly. In this book she learns of the death of an ancient large tree in the Adirondacks and looks at "now that it is no longer vertical" what happens in the soil and the understory of the forest. What changes happen in the soil and understory, and eventually, what new life grows out of that dead tree? She then relates these nature observations to the death and loss that she has seen and felt in recent years in so many areas in her own life. New life of some sort will eventually come, but there is a process that happens before that comes. What are the parts of the process, and how has this happened in her life? Such good observations, good comparisons, and good remembrances. A good mix!

Lore Ferguson Wilbert has written something utterly and beautifully wonderful. A meditation on grief and growth and the forest and human nature. It is unlike anything I've ever read and I truly want everyone to read this book. These words are gentle and kind and strong and true. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

4.5 stars—minus .5 star because I felt the book leaned too heavily on quotations from other writers. Probably could have summarized more while still giving credit

As someone who has followed Lore’s writing for years (primarily on her original blog), walking with her through this book as she remembers and reflects upon the winding road of life and grief and growth is particularly special. I love how she draws lessons from nature, namely the forest floor, that lend wisdom for navigating life and relationships, especially in some of the most difficult and uncomfortable circumstances.

I’ll always be thankful for Lore’s writing and how her thoughtfulness and care have influenced my own thinking and spiritual journey.

Better Sipped Than Shot, Intense Political "Flavor" Means Taste Will Vary With Reader. There are times when you're drinking (even non-alcoholic beverages) where you just plow through them. Maybe it is your first coffee of the day and you need that caffeine NOW! Maybe it is a hot summer day and that glass of lemonade disappeared *real* quick. Or maybe you just broke up with your significant other, and yeah, that tequila hit the spot.

A lot of books are like this. Action thrillers where reading at a frenetic pace to match the action being shown is part of the fun, for example.

This... is not that book.

This, instead, is one of those fine bourbons where you're going to lose a lot of the nuance if you shoot it down too fast. One of those women's fiction tales that feels like it is taking forever to have any real plot at all, but feels so *immersive* in the tale even still. One of those quasi-memoir/ quasi-religious pondering books (exactly what this is) where you really need to, as Wilbert did in taking inspiration for the overall narrative here, sit at your window and ponder the forest outside.

Read in such a manner, Wilbert's struggles are more understandable and even relatable, as you consider your own similar struggles - and here, the things Wilbert struggles with really are things most all of us do at some level. The overarching forest narrative is a genuinely good guide for such contemplation, at least as Wilbert has written it here.

But what could ruin the taste - or make it truly exquisite - is the intense politics that are never far from the narrative, to the point that if there isn't a political comment on *every* page, it certainly feels like at least some comment is made on at least the *majority* of pages. And yes, Wilbert's politics are, to put it mildly, "left of center". So know that going in.

This noted, where Wilbert eventually arrives... is a place we all probably need to, even if, again depending on your own political tastes, perhaps she arrives there a bit condesceningly.

Overall an intriguing read that truly urges us to slow down in this hectic world, it is one that we should all likely ponder - though I suppose few enough actually will.

Very much recommended.

I simultaneously hated and loved this book. I wanted to throw it away; I wanted to gift it to everyone I know. I want no one to read it. And I want everyone to read it. I argued with it. I got mad. I was both frustrated and encouraged. I realized my own need for "mutualism." I was deeply offended and also deeply touched. Ultimately, I grew from it. Maybe, I, too, am a tiny sapling on the floor of this forest.
Lore Ferguson Wilbert, with her wonderful use of the written word, challenged me in ways I still don't appreciate. I'm still resentful about the challenge. And I am thankful more than I can say.
Prepare to be challenged spiritually, politically, and emotionally.

"I am here and I am loved by I Am."

Content that may be triggering or concerning for some readers: liberal political viewpoint with some loaded language, pro-life/anti-abortion perspective

At some time in my journey following Jesus, I sometimes feel alone and alienated in community, even in the church that consists of so many people inside. Sometimes, I want to surrender my faith and just leave. This book reminds me to have root in our fundamental belief and have hope.