Why I Love Living In China :: A Book. A New Year

I just finished reading The City of Tranquil Light by Bo Caldwell. It’s a novel about an American couple serving as missionaries in inland China during the early 20^th century. It’s a somewhat prosaic story about their love, longevity, loss, and the lessons they learned as well as the difficult things that still remained a mystery for them at the end of their lives. In many ways the story is far removed from the China of today and the way we experience life here. But there was a spirit about it that was compelling, or at least had hints of a camaraderie in it to me… like that red silk thread that adoption families talk about, an invisible connection that ties them to their son or daughter in an inexplicable but very real way.

It made me think about the powerful influence of Time in our lives. How it can bind you in a slow, rhythmic way over days and months and years to a place, or a people. To many people, there may be very little on the face of living in China that is attractive. To the naked eye, comparing it to other places in the world, this city is dirty, polluted, frustrating and difficult. In many ways the stories and lives around us are maddening, sometimes horrifying, or just plain depressing. For all appearances, it's not a great place to raise kids. And I read all of this in The City of Tranquil Light too, though to a much greater degree. Life was so different back then, far harder, far more isolating and much more physically demanding. The sacrifices were incredible and seemed never to let up.  Yet in time, as the years swept over them like the dust storms that covered the land, this ordinary couple was molded by those long stretches of time, and the shape of those years gave form to love. The hardships and people, the relationships and experiences shaped their growing love like a baby that forms slowly in the womb and one day you look upon it’s face, seeing with your eyes what has all these months been blossoming by it’s taking from your own flesh and blood.

Time gives birth to love it seems. As does hardship. And weaving in and out of these two is every relationship, great and small that you make along the way. Relationships on every level are the ribbon of light that brings a wonder of luminescence to the fabric of time and hardship. It’s the part of life that keeps you keeping on, and that sometimes makes you feel as though all the world is breaking apart. In the book, it’s the relationships that make it hardest to leave China in the end. And though my family is not leaving, as I read it I felt the pull that is always there for us, the tension that rides under the surface of emotions almost all the time: the people we love and “lose” every day in a sense because we are not a part of their lives anymore, living way over on the other side of the world, but at the same time growing ever more grateful and attached to the people we have the gift of knowing here.

Sometimes I wonder if it makes any sense that we give up knowing cousins and aunties and uncles and grandparents, so that we can instead share life with the young woman, the student, the couple. These are things I can’t weigh in the balance. I can’t see what the worth of anything really is. And I have to put it all in the hands of my Lord who feels the weight of things correctly, and simply asks me to keep seeing with eyes of faith.

It is the start of another Lunar New Year today, chu yi the first day of the first month, and the most important holiday of the year. Everywhere are fireworks and families gathering. Red chinese lanterns are strung along the streets and in windows. The doors are covered with traditional banners declaring good fortune and well wishes over the household for the coming year. It is another mysterious sort of gift to me, this sharing in a tradition that is not ours by birth or rite. We are foreign to it and at most take part in a surface sort of way. But this too was something that struck me as I read, how joining in these festivities ties you to a place as well.  And without making too much of it, I think in some small but perhaps important ways, our family has been graced with good things that we otherwise may have missed were we not able to every year celebrate the Chinese New Year.

As is the tradition, on the Eve of the New Year, we made jiaozi, meat filled dumplings representing abundance and good fortune. As I sat with all four of my children and husband at our table, the plate heaped full with steaming, crunchy jiaozi that we all love with an almost improper ferocity, I did indeed feel fortunate. I knew and know that we are blessed.

It is perhaps easiest to look around and see the physical blessings, but as I have been pondering lately from the words of Jesus, as we work not for food that spoils but for food that endures to eternal life, our eyes are ever opened more and more to the unseen realities that our ours in Christ. He who gives the food and the rain and the house and the clothes also gives the joy and faith and love. You can have joy and faith and love without house or clothes. But to have house or clothes without joy and faith and love is no life at all. This is the life that is worth living… and it is a life that is learned over time, through hardship, in the midst of relationship. This is the essence of the good life that the couple in The City of Tranquil Light knew. And in this, and their love for China,  and the slow years that grew them, I feel I too one day may, in some distant way know a part of their story.

A Few Good Books for the New Year

The beginning again. Here we are. 

Even though the rush to lament over how we fail at our yearly resolve to better ourselves begins just as soon as the new year dawns,  I am still grateful for the freshness of it. The cycle of being given the opportunity to begin again, or to at least look out on the vista of days before you and hope. For transformation, for change, for growth.

My current state of resolutions is a bit hodgepodge. I relish the idea of self-reflection, but I also get pretty gun-shy and worry that I don't see myself clearly enough to know what needs working on and what doesn't. So I go about this tender-footed dance between what I have been thinking, feeling, sensing in my spirit, and an all out begging/searching/throw-myself at the the feet of Jesus session where I hope for a divine encounter with This is What We'll Work on This Year My Dear.

Aside from that, I do believe we are what we read (or quite a bit of it) and that what you soak in is what you exude in word and deed and thought, which means I have eagerly started on my current fare of book fodder and am hoping as it goes in, the coming out will bring with it a humbler, more aware, more gracious me than I was in 2013.

It is pretty obvious that there is a similar theme running through these books. I am okay with that, though it means the content is not as varied as I sometimes like my reading to be. Themes can be good for percolating and meditation, for a time. There are some things that need thinking on, and it strikes me how at times a book pile will gather that I did not purposely arrange, but seems suited to the current need of my soul. I love how a few good books can feed your spirit like that.

The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert: an English professor's journey into the Christian Faith
by Rosaria Butterfield.

Home: a Novel
by Marilynne Robinson

When I Was a Child I Read Books
by Marilynne Robinson

Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith
by Anne Lamott

City of Tranquil Light: a novel
by Bo Caldwell

The Shaping of a Christian Family
by Elisabeth Elliot

{book}worm wednesday :: cry the beloved country

A repost from the archives... one year ago today.

I want to share about books tonight because it's been awhile since I've been able to do that, but also because I've been reading some good ones. I am so thankful for the books we have here, the old friends that have followed us from place to place and even over oceans. And the children's books, the ones that the grandparents have blessed us with time and time again, they are priceless. Many an early morning, long afternoon, sick in bed day, or be quiet while I put the baby to bed, has been saved by these precious books. I love that in all her clambering, the Busy One has started to sit and look intently through her books. She's clearly catching on to what is expected of her. Her little board books may be discussing belly buttons or runaway rabbits, but she is getting the idea.

The books tonight are some of my old favorites. I have also been weeping openly nearly every day now as I've fingered their pages and held their words in my mouth. I have got to stop crying over these coon hound pups. So, as a form of thanks, I offer up this short list-- of books.

Where The Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls

As you can tell from anything I've mentioned about the coon hounds in the past few posts, this story has left me a soppy mess of tears nearly every time I try to read it. This week its just me and the boys, waiting for Daddy to return home and needing an "interim" story. So because the oldest has been talking every day about wanting two puppies, and has already named them, as well as planned out an entire training regimen for when they arrive (which will be when we live on a large farm in the country), I thought this was a fitting story to begin. They are loving it, and I am too- when I can speak without my voice quivering and tears welling up in my eyes. Billy is just so darned determined, and sweetly passionate, and burning up with dog-love. His grandpa is so moved and bewildered by the coins dumped out on the store counter, his parents so torn up about the lack of money and the heartsick dreams of their young boy. Then there's the way he loves his family, and that he buys his sisters candy so their eyes will light up, and his mother material for a new dress. The names carved in the tree, the generous fishermen. I could go on and on. 

I also love that the mother and father are highly concerned about living in the country, at the foothills of the mountains, far from town. "It's no place to raise a family," the father says. And they want to move to town so their children can get an education... "more to an education than reading, writing, and arithmetic." I love this because it is so ironic to me, who worries that living in the city is no place to raise a family. "More to an education than reading, writing, and learning a language..." Like throwing rocks and splitting wood and romping through streams and feeling dirt between your fingers and seeing where the food you eat comes from.  Not sure all of why, but I am thankful for this sweet story right now. 

Cry The Beloved Country by Alan Paton

If I had to give a list of my all-time favorite books, I believe this one would top the list. Maybe at some point in my life this will change. For now, it reigns secure.

The story is tragic. An old minister who is from the hill country in South Africa, where the "lovely little road that runs to Ixopo" lies, goes to Johannesburg in search of his wayward son who has been missing for some time. What he finds brings deep suffering. The road he travels in the city is full of humbling moments, of finding grace through the love of God's people, of temptation and failure, of grief and mercy, of great joy in simple acts of love, of uncertainty and provision. 

Some of the things that stood out to me this time were things I didn't notice the first couple times through. At several points, a friend who sacrifices much to help the suffering minister is thanked, and he with some chagrin states, "I am a weak and sinful man. But God laid his hands on me. That is all." It is no small statement, and has come to my often as I think through all that I am that is not of me, and all that I am not that is not counted against me. All of him... his hands on me and that is all.

I love how it ends. I love how it begins. I cry for South Africa, for all that happened there and all the crying out for humanity and a country torn and fearful. I am humbled by how much this man who wrote these words loved his country, and the people, and knew that what was needed when the hating had turned to loving was forgiveness. I love how he lifts up the way God meets us in our need with mercy and grace, but also questions why some people receive the healing of their suffering and some never see an end (because I too ask these questions), and answers that it is a mystery, but not in a way that makes you question God's goodness, just how much we are able to understand.

I hope you read it. I hope you like it. Given my infatuation, maybe just pretend or say something vague and polite if you don't.

One Morning in Maine by Robert McCloskey

For some reason we've been picking this one up frequently these days. I think the Middle One likes the pictures. He will sit and slowly leaf through them for long periods of time. A simple story of a little girl, Sal and her Saturday morning on the coast of Maine, where she helps her father dig for clams, and loses her first tooth, takes a boat ride to town, and gets ice cream with her sister. The wildlife, the townspeople, the new spark plug, it's all very Maine-ish and delightful.

The Prodigal God by Tim Keller

A friend gave this to me for my birthday and I'm just getting around to it. A quick, but insightful read into the real issues of the Prodigal Son story. Perhaps it's not the younger brother who really has the more serious problem. And if you've grown up religious, or with your moral ducks in a row... it's likely you'll find yourself in the hot seat. 

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

My faithful husband is still plugging away at this monstrosity of a book. He is loving it and often reads sections to me aloud (sweet, but not recommended in a house with several children under 5, who are not sedated with television or benadryl). 

I Can't Believe I'm Knitting (no author)

I feel like I'm reading this book only because I constantly have my nose buried in it, trying to figure out the directions. I am sooo thankful for it and the simple directions which are guiding me through my baby steps as a knitter. And I am pleased to say that I am halfway through my first simple sweater!! I can't believe it... hopefully I will be proud enough of the finished product to be able to share pictures soon. 

There you have it, a short but important list and one that I truly am thankful for and all the joy it has brought me these past few days and weeks. If you want to share, I'd love to hear what you are reading. Of course that means you'd have to leave a comment... which I know is like public speaking or something awful like that.

Days of Gray :: 19 {a good read is hard to find}

Flannery O'Connor. She is, unparallelled. Like jumping off a cliff into the netherworld of dark reality. It's heartbreaking and ugly. But somehow magnetic and cleansing in a way that the being impaled by a white hot sword of righteousness might feel. Seriously, she's crazy. I didn't really like her much at first, but I think reading her letters has helped me see a little better into her mind and stories. They are not for the faint of heart (and I do think I have a faint heart... most of the time).

So somehow, sitting with her in the afternoon seems like the most wonderful way to spend a couple kid- napping hours. In a twisted and horrifically wonderful kind of way.

I'm off my head!

{book}worm wednesday :: Freaks, Prayer, and Relatives

I hear my boy's voice coming from the door that sits ajar to the bedroom, reading steadily and with increasing ease through a small stack of books he has deemed "learning books" that now sit on his desk. He has recently re-organized it, taking away whatever he think makes it look too juvenile and trying to give it more an appearance "like Daddy's desk." Which apparently means important looking books.

Watching the transformation of a little boy from memorizing these strange looking characters called the alphabet, into an avid and excited reader has to be one of the more understated and exhilirating experiences in life. It is like watching them crack open a door into a parallel universe, and do it without you narrating the way. It's a bit unnerving too though, as you notice your new transparency now that everything is fair game... notes on the fridge, on the table, words on the computer, on signs, in a letter. Everything beckons to be discovered, uncoded, read. A small price to pay, this transparency. The world awaits you my son!

On to the list. And as always, I love to hear what you are reading these days as well!

What He's Reading:
Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything
by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner
It may be one of the more interesting ways to read about economics, which is really "the study of choices people make to satisfy their needs and wants." All I know is, this man sits and reads this book like it's the latest crime novel or something, so it must be interesting. It is perhaps similar to Malcolm Gladwell's style of using the data to explain all sorts of everyday phenomenon.

What I'm Reading:
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy
Still working on it... and I have to say it gets better the further on I get. A certain "too small" sweater I was itching to finish sort of got in the way of my evening reading these last few days, so I'm anxious to get back on track.

A Praying Life by Paul Miller
From the perspective of a person who has struggled to really pray, to believe in and not become cynical about prayer, I think this book is an excellent help and antidote to those struggles. I am walking a hopeful journey in this area and I found Paul Miller's belief in the reality of prayer (and particularly in a loving and able God who listens to our prayers) coupled with his honest grappling through the doubts and questions and practical struggles we face as people to be refreshing, insightful, and hard hitting in a Life building kind of way.

What the Kids are Reading:
Tsunami! by Kimiko Kajikawa
This author has a poetic way of retelling Japanese folklore. This story is a bit dark in its subject matter, but ultimately it is the story of how an old man named Ojisan saves his village from the disaster of a looming Tsunami. The illustrations are abstract and interesting, and the story compelling.

The Relatives Came by Cynthia Rylant (Caldecott Honor Book)
A charming story of a large family coming together for a summer reunion. The illustrations are fabulous... quirky and fun and hilarious. My kids looked at each one for ages, and we would each pick out our favorite character on each page. It's a theme that hits close to home too... a long journey to visit the relatives and all the "breathing together" in a tight space in the middle of a hot summer. Delightful, if not a little early as far as seasons go.

Snow by Uri Shulevitz
It's very likely I have posted this book before, but I do love me some Uri Shulevitz and unlike the Relatives book, it is a perfect story for this season... even if we are somewhat snowless for most of the winter. I love to read it with my best Russian accent, and the little ones love finding the snowflakes on each page. Simple, sweet, mesmerizing tale.

{book}worm wednesday :: committed

The books currently on our nightstands (because honestly, that's really the only place the reading is happening these days) all seem to be long ones for some reason. That means the list today will be short, and most (or all) of these are not finished yet either. They are good books though, I tell you, which is why we are reading them.

The Kids:
The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White
This book is charming and sweet in it's own E.B.White sort of way, who made us love a rather dull and conscientious pig, and a spider for crying out loud, and it's amazing how he can make you feel the same for a funny family of trumpeter swans. Louis can't "talk" like the rest of his kind, and it's disturbing and perplexing to his parents, and to him... until he learns to read and write which creates a whole new set of problems and adventures. I personally find the Cob (the father swan) the most hilarious of the bunch. He doesn't talk, he pontificates. But his wife just rolls her eyes and says what's what. They make me laugh.

The Husband:
Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas
I think I mentioned before that he was obsessively reading this book... and he still is.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was one of the most infuential writers and theologians of the 20th century. Most people know him as the author of The Cost of Discipleship and Life Together, but his life was absolutely remarkable in his academic abilities coupled with a prophetic and strikingly counter-(church)cultural understanding of the community of believers. And it plays out in the startling, gripping tale of his life as it goes from academia and pastoral pursuits, to life as an undercover SS agent in Hitler's regime. A very challenging  and inspirational read.

Me:
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy (abridged and edited by Manuel Komroff)
I have an old paperback edition, with 621 pages of the thinnest (as in, lick your fingers and crinkle the pages each time to make sure you aren't skipping one), tissue-like paper with small, close together type. This alone has created it's own challenge. But there is something about those Russian authors that makes you feel you ought to read them. I've read some of Dostoyevsky and needed lots of additional materials to make it come alive for me. Yet I find myself often thinking back to The Grand Inquisitor passage in The Brother's Karamazov when I am struggling through the question of suffering in this life. I guess that means it was worth reading... and that the others will be as well.

I don't know if I'll find a similar passage that forever sticks with me in War and Peace, but I am pleasantly surprised to find I am enjoying and following along the story itself, after tackling and hurdling over the first few somewhat dry chapters. I'm starting to feel a sympathetic liking for Prince Andre and dear Pierre, for Natasha and Rostov. Only half way through at this point but happily determined to keep going.

Committed:: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage by Elizabeth Gilbert
This one has been a great conversation starter, if in no other place than the insides of my very own head.

So far in the reading of this book, I have appreciated several points she brings out concerning the way we currently view marriage and have treated it throughout history, but I also have questions about they way she handles these views. Understanding history is a tricky thing. It's an interpretive thing. A historian will (hopefully) examine primary documents and then begin to piece together an interpretation of events or ideas of that time. So when Gilbert claims that marriage has not always been treated as sacred or that it is evolving over time, I would probably interpret the information a bit differently.

Marriage has always been mistreated, and perverted in certain aspects ever since the Fall. But I would venture to say that it has also always been upheld and treated as sacred to some degree( by the grace of God) during those times as well. I have always appreciated how C.S. Lewis put it: that each era has its own strengths, and its own weaknesses, and it's easy to point those out in an era already dead and gone. But sometimes looking into the world of another time, can lead you to see the pitfalls in your own. I wonder this about the way we criticize marriage in past eras. Or the way we understand the historical treatment of women. It is easy to see the atrocities, because they are there in plain and awful sight... and to think we have attained so much good in the present. I wonder what those women (or men) would say if they were able to comment on our present day marriages and views on/treatment of women. Would they point out things we have lost, or are damaging, even within all our gains?

Another important bit to chew on...marriage as a moral issue: the author doesn't agree that it is one, which I understand. It's a trend these days to take it off the moral list. But everything is on the moral list. You can't say morality has no jurisdiction over some things (like the union of marriage), but then claim morality for the issues you still want it for (like the treatment of homosexuals, which I agreed with her sentiment on). In her argument for the goodness of same sex marriage, Gilbert cites the Greeks as being a culture that accepted it (and because they produced men like Aristotle and Socrates, and the framework for modern day democracy, we tend to get a bit woozy when we talk about the Greeks)... but failed to mention their acceptance of boy-love, also known as pedophilia. We still claim that as a moral issue today that is unacceptable. So without going into a huge diatribe on philosophy here, suffice it to say that I appreciated some of the points she brought out that deserve our careful attention, but with a different starting point for moral, ethical, and epistemological outworkings, I would disagree with many of her conclusions.

One of the things I have appreciated most thus far in the book however, was her musing on whether or not we put too much expectiation on our spouse and all that our marital union holds for us. I think this is true everywhere, and no less in the Christian community. If anything is now in danger of becoming simultaneously destroyed and made into a ridiculous icon of idolatry it is marriage and even the family. I think this is where her quote of the Apostle Paul is also a bit off. Taken in isolation, his statement about wishing everyone were "as he is", may have appeared to make the claim that marriage was bad or lesser than a solitary life wholly devoted to God... but closer inspection would reveal that his whole point was that it shouldn't be the all in all. It can't be. And most of us figure that out in the day to day life of marriage but somehow at the same time still expect that it should be the quintissential completion of our being. It won't be.

I believe in marriage, in the goodness of it, not because I think we're evolving and figuring out better and better ways to make it work for us, or because of it's utilitarian purposes, but because I believe it was formed within the good and perfect plan of God. Right now, in this fallen state of things, that means it is fraught with problems and abuses, failures and perversions, but the grace of God has not left us, and even though it is "not the way it's supposed to be," he is working in spite of it all. That is why there is the possibility of hope... in broken marriages, failed marriages, abandoned marriages, empty marriages, even good and healthy marriages. I'm committed because of this hope.

Days of December 15 {Books}

It's been quite a long time since a book{worm} wednesday. Just recently a friend let me borrow Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage, and at the same time, I started Tolstoy's War and Peace. This seems a strange and ill-planned reading list for the last couple weeks of Advent and I'm not sure what I was thinking. So, both of those may go on hold until the New Year and in the meantime I have been gathering a few of our favorite Christmas reads for the kids. There are a few new finds as well, thanks to a well stocked and thoughtful supply at our school's Elementary Library.

But beyond a short book list, I also want to share a place I've begun to visit regularly. Some of you may remember my timid raving about a new author I was introduced to and her book, Velma Still Cooks in Leeway. Well, my interest has hardly waned and since that time I've been sent a few more of her novels, both of which my husband and I have mused slowly over, and fully enjoyed.

She is not flashy, she is not overly original. She is not poetic like an Alan Paton or profound like a Chaim Potok. But she is exquisitely real, and an observer of the grave realities of life and the presence of God's grace. She writes about small towns, and small lives, people who are very much like ourselves and with all the wonders and flaws we too possess. I love her stories.

So anyway, Mrs. Wright also has a website where she somewhat regularly posts writings: poems, prompts, or some of her own short fiction stories. Right now she is doing a four part Advent Fiction about an old farmer. You can read along here.

Now, onto our list. Merry Christmas reading everyone!

Treasures of the Snow by Patricia St. John.

I have wonderful memories of my mother reading this book to our family growing up. There is so much to love about it, it's set in the Alps for goodness sake, at Christmas-time. But dear Annette has much to learn about friendship, loyalty, and ultimately forgiveness.

The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree by Gloria Houston (picture book)

This is a new read for us this year. It has beautiful, magical illustrations and a lovely story about a young girl in the Appalachians during one of the World Wars.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

Hilarious story told from the eyes of a young girl about the misfit family in town that takes over the Church Christmas Pageant. Endearing and fun at the same time.

The Wild Christmas Reindeer by Jan Brett (picture book)

I really enjoy this author and the beautiful, unique illustrations. This particular story is a new one this year... haven't even read it yet.

The Christmas Stories of George MacDonald
George MacDonald. That's all I need to say. These stories are a bit old for my children, so they mainly look at the pictures. But I enjoy reading them, and I'm hopeful they will too in the years to come.

{book}worm wednesday :: Neighborly Giveaway

It is the loveliest of fall days today. Even the gusty wind is welcome, bringing the familiar sound of leaves rustling in the cool breeze, the warm sun sending afternoon shadows, while the rise and fall of children's voices wafts in through windows and doors flung wide.

It's the kind of day that makes you cook down a pot of apples for sauce making, or reach for a light sweater, the kind of day that makes the thought of a new novel or a knit hat, even a mid week holiday from school a welcome idea. Today has held all of those things and more, at least for those of us who are here, in this corner of the world.

Today is also Zhong Qiu Jie, or the Mid Autumn Festival, one of the most important holidays in China, when the moon is at its fullest and the Chinese celebrate the bounty of harvest, of togetherness, of family unity and wholeness. On this fittingly crisp day the kids are running about happily, enjoying the freedom and companionship of this neighborhood, while the country all around us does so on a grander scale, with families coming together to celebrate the blessings of both the earth and generations.

It is with these thoughts and scenes in my mind that I happily bring you today's event for this week's {My Neighborhood} theme: a book giveaway... the novel, Velma Still Cooks in Leeway by Vinita Hampton Wright.

Several weeks ago I listed this novel as a new read in {book}worm wednesday, and said I would let you know how it went. It turns out I absolutely loved it, and immediately decided I wanted to give one away for free (how neighborly of me). Aside from simply wanting to put good books into the hands of willing readers, this particular book and author is slightly less well known (than say, Cry the Beloved Country or Grapes of Wrath) and yet its themes are just as timeless and important.

Velma is a middle aged woman, living in a small, mid-western town where knowing your neighbor and the streets that they live and die on is a way of life, and essential to it. It's complicated though, and Velma begins to feel that the weight of the town's griefs and burdens are becoming to heavy for her to bear. She wrestles with the hurts and disappointments she experiences with and through her neighbors, and with God. There are no cookie cutter answers or easy formulas here, just Velma and her story, within which we are made to grapple with our own questions and struggles with suffering, forgiveness, the hope of redemption, and the way life holds all of these but is not crushed under the weight of them, bearing mercy and grace in spite of it all.

Among other themes, some that struck me were the importance of place, physical place-- the memories they hold and they way they tie and unite, comfort or even instruct life in a way. I felt like I had a deeper appreciation or understanding for people in my own life who are deeply attached to places, to memorabilia that holds significance because of its connection to people. Forgiveness is without question a theme... even more so it seemed to me was the power of healing that human forgiveness brings to another soul. It is something Dietrich Bonhoeffer talks about in Life Together, the way we minister God's forgiveness to others by the way we ourselves forgive. It made me ponder the transforming acts of human forgiveness that I have seen, as well as the the ramifications of when it is withheld. 

Last week I handed this book off to a friend, an English Lit teacher, to see if my zeal over it as a piece of honest and transformational work was off or not, and she wrote me the next day to say she couldn't get it off her mind-- the story had already gripped her, and the the themes seemed to be resonating with those in her own life.

Of course, we each have books that hit us, and sometimes especially so at particular times in our lives. Yet, even with that in mind, I think this story has enough merit to stand on its own. And now, I'd love for one of you to have it in your hands-- but hopefully you will ALL read it!

To enter the giveaway, please leave a comment below telling me what book you are currently reading or would like to read. For an additional entry, post a link to this blog on your facebook page or twitter and then say you did so in a separate comment below.

Comments will be closed on

USA time: Friday, Sept. 24th 12:00 am

China time: Friday, Sept. 24th 12:00 noon

Congratulations Sam! You are the (randomly selected) winner of a new copy of Velma Still Cooks in Leeway. Although the odds were in everyone's favor:)

Please email me your address so I can get it sent to you right away.