Each month, I choose a saint and proceed to read everything I can get my hands on through inter-library loan, because someone needs to request that 1979 out-of-print monograph on a 14th century mystic. I chase footnotes. I pester librarians (shout-out to Catherine). I become temporarily insufferable during family dinners and paint nights.

Then I write to you.

I summarize their life, tell a story or two and reflect on what we might take from their century into ours. I want to grow in compassion, justice, awareness of the presence of Christ, and I am always interested in other’s prayer lives. These are the things I will notice as I read the history tomes with my magnifying glass.

If I am honest, this is a project that I engineered so that I am forced to spend less time doom-scrolling and more time in the company of interesting, faithful, morally complicated dead people who might rub off on me in the best possible way.

The whole package has an institutional aesthetic that can only be described as your grandmother’s stapler from the 1950s. I have a crazy love for vintage office supplies, what can I say? Also, it was funny to me to put our saintly friends in an institutional context. So many of them were subversive sneaky-sneaks, providing the counter-cultural voices of their time. They wrote from the margins, dressed down the powerful, refused to behave. I love the contrast: the quiet authority of an ‘official’ letter paired with a bunch of unruly and holy mischief-makers.

And truly—how much more counter-cultural can you get than an analog handwritten letter?

I’ve always been obsessed with getting things in the mail. There is something about that tactile joy of receiving something with just my name on it. I want to pass on that mailbox joy. Also, when I think about how for centuries, followers of Jesus were formed this way—encouraged, corrected, strengthened—one human hand writing to another. This is our spiritual heritage and I want to lean into it.

What You Receive

Each envelope includes:

1. A three-page letter: A chatty, reflective letter telling the story of a saint—attentive to their humanity, their struggles.

2. A hand-painted prayer card: An original saint icon on one side; on the other, a brief word drawn from their writings or spirit addressed to you.

3. A sticker: A small, visual reminder to place somewhere you will see it often; a quiet nudge that you belong to a long line of ancestors in the faith.

What Do I Mean by “Saint”?

To qualify as a saint for our purposes, there are two requirements. I mean, first you have to be dead. If you’re still alive, you’ll have to wait your turn. Second, you tried to follow Jesus. That’s it. That’s the bar. This project is ecumenical in spirit—drawing from the wide Christian tradition: Catholic, Protestant and everything in between. Some saints you will recognize. Others may be new companions. To belong to a family is to know your ancestors. The same is true in the life of faith.

Why This, Now?

The world is suffering right now. SPU! Post is my small, albeit paper-based attempt to throw some encouragement out there and hope some of it sticks. Saints preserve us! Truly. And if you can’t intervene directly, at least let your stories do some of the heavy lifting.

Our saintly crew have lived through wars, plagues, political upheaval, institutional corruption, and personal failure. They are so good at comforting us when we need balm and challenging us when we need a kick in the ass.  

Who Is Behind This?

Me!
I am a writer and artist living in rural British Columbia. I hold two degrees in history—what my sister affectionally calls my “useless degrees.” I am currently in the business of proving her wrong by starting a mail subscription service. That’ll show her.

More seriously: I am deeply interested in the lives of those who have gone before us. I believe their stories are living witnesses; gravestones worthy of contemplation. And I would like to place one in your mailbox each month.