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On Gold Mountain (Vintage)

by Lisa See

Getting through this book felt laborious - and I'm a Lisa See fan. I felt burdened by the facts - all the relatives and who came when. Then the main character, patriarch of the See clan, kept changing his name. I got lost. The story didn't call to me.

Let me quickly add that this work has received numerous accolades and that it is a deeply personal work by the author chronicling the history of her family. For Chinese Americans, it must be deeply moving. I respect that.

I read it for entertainment and felt let down. That's the facts for me.
City of Tranquil Light: A Novel

by Bo Caldwell

City of Tranquil Light is the story of a missionary couple to China and spans from 1906 to 1966. The story alternates the voices of Will and Katherine. Hearing two viewpoints adds depth and dimension to the tale. Their faith and the country and people they love are strong characters in the book as well. The love the two share reaches out from the pages and enlarges the reader's heart to love more, better, bigger.

"When you leave a place you love, you leave a piece of your heart. But you take with you the hearts of your beloved." This quote is from Mo Yun to Katherine as she is departing China. This story touched mine as I have also loved a country and a people and had to leave them. I appreciate how Ms. Caldwell paints a vast and rich landscape of the questions and the mysteries of faith.
Katherine writes in her journal:
"Then I ask where my faith is. I decide I'm being selfish and that fear rather than faith is leading me, and I scold myself for my lapse; I buck up and work harder and turn my back on this yearning for calm. But it will not be silenced, and once again I am asking God: Would You give me a desire You do not plan to fulfill? I don't receive an answer but the Silence that greets me is somehow gentle, and I stop battering myself for my lack of faith and accept my desires as a mystery, to be felt rather than solved."
Reading this book and letting these characters speak to your soul will enrich your life.
The Distant Land of My Father (Harvest Book)

by Bo Caldwell

Few books stirred my soul like this one. Ms. Caldwell took me to Shanghai and I fell in love with the culture, the people, and the small family at the center. Anna narrates the story of her parents love for each other that spans wars, continents and betrayal. We track with her from 5 to 50. Through grief, war, heartache & illness, Anna's words lent me an emotional connection to my own.

I miss these lovely people so I was thrilled to find that Ms. Caldwell has written a prequel.

Few books stirred my soul like this one. Ms. Caldwell took me to Shanghai and I fell in love with the culture, the people, and the small family at the center. Anna narrates the story of her parents love for each other that spans wars, continents and betrayal. We track with her from 5 to 50. Through grief, war, heartache & illness, Anna's words lent me an emotional connection to my own.
I miss these lovely people so I was thrilled to find that Ms. Caldwell has written a prequel.
Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy

by Eric Metaxas

"To renounce a full life & it's real joys in order to avoid pain is neither Christian nor human," says Bonhoeffer.

I developed tendinitis reading this burdensome book. I've never before experienced a reading injury. It was worth the pain. Trudging thought hindered of pages with discipline and diligence acquainted me with a man who lived for eternal gain and who enjoyed life. Metaxas stuck to the facts of Bonhoeffer's life. At times the facts built up like so much silt on a riverbed. But in the end, I can appreciate his devotion to truth and to letting is know the man. He is inspiring.

I recommend Bonhoeffer to bone up on WWII, to get to know a human who led an uncompromised life, to be challenged in your faith, and to build some muscles.

"To renounce a full life & it's real joys in order to avoid pain is neither Christian nor human," says Bonhoeffer.
I developed tendinitis reading this burdensome book. I've never before experienced a reading injury. It was worth the pain. Trudging thought hindered of pages with discipline and diligence acquainted me with a man who lived for eternal gain and who enjoyed life. Metaxas stuck to the facts of Bonhoeffer's life. At times the facts built up like so much silt on a riverbed. But in the end, I can appreciate his devotion to truth and to letting is know the man. He is inspiring.
I recommend Bonhoeffer to bone up on WWII, to get to know a human who led an uncompromised life, to be challenged in your faith, and to build some muscles.
Fall of Giants: Book One of the Century Trilogy

by Ken Follett

I didn't think Ken Follett could top his other series, Pillars of the Earth and World Without End, but he did. This master storyteller weaves a story of several nations and the complex beginnings of World War I. It's worth the read for the sheer genius involved in connecting their stories in a believable way. But more than that, his characters are likable and multi-dimensional. He accomplished all this and managed to share differing political views without an obvious personal agenda.

I recommend Fall of Giants. I cannot wait a full year for the sequel.
A Stolen Life: A Memoir

by Jaycee Dugard

This story piques my curiosity and expands my understanding of a human soul in so many ways. This young lady was abducted and remained captive for 18 years yet no bitterness resides in her. To me this is astounding. She speaks with amazing guile about her captors and their shame not being hers. She loves her daughters with her whole being... daughters born to her and her captor.

Of course, I remember when she went missing last seen at her bus stop. I must have intuitively known that it could have been me kidnapped at the bus stop. And now as I read, I get that I could have lost my life like that. She says that she doesn't want to give her captor one more day. She will not live in bitterness and be imprisoned by that like she was in life in the backyard as she eked out an existence in tent.

I salute you, Jaycee Dugard. Thank you for generously sharing your story and your courage with us.
Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption

by Laura Hillenbrand

I wish I could meet Louie Zamperini, the main character of Unbroken. He is a hero although he would not like that label. Hillenbrand eloquently narrates truly a life of unbelievable talent, luck mixed with some terribly unlucky twists, the nooks and crannies of WWII, and a tormented soul post POW experience. The noble, humble life of Zamperini will stick with me and inspire me for years to come. I highly recommend this amazing roller-coaster ride of a tale.
The Pillars of the Earth [Mass Market Paperback]

by Ken Follett (Author)

I blazed through this book announcing when I finished it in a booming voice from the balcony of our condo in Florida: "IT IS FINISHED!" I did this mainly because no one could reach me that is communicate with me or engage me because my nose was three to four inches in this book. It is a page-turner with a satisfying ending. The characters got into your heart and under your skin. They are perfectly flawed and passionate. The Bad Guy is one of the most hatable characters I have ever read. My meanest Bad Guy is the Dude from Gladiator (the movie). This one takes a close second.

I feel like the last person on the planet to read this book. Matt read this one first and just handed me the sequel as he said, "See you in a few thousand pages."
Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation

by Ruth Haley Barton

Sacred Rhythms is a book I sipped like a warm tasty cup of tea on a cold afternoon. I read this book over almost a year. And I will re-read it. Barton hit me where I live right now: I want to build my life around loving God and being loved by Him. For me, every chapter boosted me farther down that path. Some things I had already begun to implement like lectio divina and intentional Sabbath rest. Others are new to me. I especially savored the chapter on listening to our bodies. I tend to push my body beyond its limits and get frustrated when it "betrays" me. I desire to learn to listen better with my body as an antenna to what God is doing. Barton's book will be a reference for me for years to come.
Trials of the Earth: The Autobiography of Mary Hamilton

by Mary Hamilton

Trials of the Earth is a true account of one of the first settlers of the Mississippi Delta. Mary Hamilton says she thinks she is the first white woman to cross the Sunflower River. Her recollections of this difficult yet fascinating period of history are as detailed as they are honest. If you enjoyed These Is My Words, you will love a nonfiction version of that book.

I grew up in the Delta and often played along the banks of the Sunflower River even though I was forbidden to do so. Reading Hamilton's account took me back to my childhood games and added dimension to stories my imagination had long conjured up. Even if you didn't enjoy playing pioneer as a child, you will love Mary's common sense approach to life and her indomitable spirit.

One warning the book gives is the inclusion of Mary's original wording in regards to race at that time. Her words have not been edited and sometimes the use of words common to that period cause us today to gulp for air. Rightly so. We have little by little, albeit too slowly, been weaned of hatred and racism. In that period, black people were still considered property and a different class. I caution readers of this because it was the one problem I had with the book. Can I recommend a book that includes such language? I settled on recommending it primarily because of the authenticity. I can no more edit that period than I could edit her language. We grow by looking at the warts of our culture straight on and not sugar-coating or spinning them.

I appreciate Hamilton's candor and her willingness to put her story out there for the next generations.
The Road (Movie Tie-in Edition 2009) (Vintage International)

by Cormac McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy's genius is in creating depth of emotion with so few words. How did he manage to convey hope in such a hellish setting? This story is moving, disturbing, instructive to the soul.

I felt that everything McCarthy wrote was with intention. The repetition of small and seemingly inane details, the lack of punctuation, the descriptors of each place they stopped, the lack of names: all add to the feel of the book and painted a picture of a bare landscape where hope is elusive. I read some other reviews of folks who made a point but were irritated by these things. For me, it made the book unique and I think the author to be genius.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

by Mary Ann Shaffer, Annie Barrows

Guernsey is written as a series of letters between the main character, Juliet, and others. The format proved difficult for me to follow. I had trouble connecting the letter to the character. Therefore the characters while rich were not as developed in my mind as I would have desired. The setting is post WWII in the Channel Islands off England.

I'd recommend this book because it gave me more insight into WWII, a topic I enjoy. Like a watercolorist carefully layering in colors, Shaffer and Barrows layer the letters and build their tale through the postmaster.
The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook: A Tale of Sex, Money, Genius and Betrayal

by Ben Mezrich

I have never cared before about how Facebook was founded. Something drew me in about this book. After finishing the account of how Mark Zuckerberg obsessively wrote the code and robbed ideas from colleagues and betrayed his best, his only, friend; I almost canceled my account. I am not given to crusades, however, so I have kept my facebook. Over a few days as I have processed the account, I have softened. Loneliness inspired the genius to create a way for people to connect. And our court system doled out some form of justice to those robbed and betrayed.

More importantly, God tells us in Genesis, the first book of the Bible, that what man intends for evil, God can use for good. I don't know what Zuckerberg intended. And I guess it doesn't really matter. Facebook has been used for evil and good.

I like having some insight in an idea that changed the face of social networking.
Cutting for Stone

by Abraham Verghese

Never have I taken a highlighter to a work of fiction. Until now. Abraham Verghese captures the human soul in words as well as any author I have read. I found myself wanting to mark the times that he pierced mine so I could come back and read them again in wonder. I am always a little sad when I end a book. But with this one, I grieved. I miss the characters. Please, Mr. Verghese, keep writing. Your gift makes the world a better place.
Under the Tuscan Sun

by Frances Mayes

Matt and I will be visiting Italy in just 15 days. Did I just write that? Somebody slap me. This trip is a dream come true and a celebration of our 20th year of marriage.

With that in mind, I picked up this memoir to whet my appetite for all things Italy. By the middle of the book, I felt numbed by all the food and wine. The small towns ran together. I thought to myself, "how many more fabulous bottles of wine can I read about?"

I'm glad I stuck with it. I needed the closure. Mayes and her husband bought a house an renovated it. I enjoyed the descriptors of the final product and seeing the journey to the end. For me, I ended up falling in love with Italy. A little foretaste of what is to come, I hope!
A Change in Altitude: A Novel

by Anita Shreve

Anita Shreve hooked me within a few pages. The characters are well-defined and intriguing. The plot is a page-turner. A nice change from the lumbering book I just finished: Under the Tuscan Sun.

Sunday

Oct102010

Church at the Soccer Field

10.10.2010

Today I had church at the soccer field. Not to be glib, but as I yelled, kicked and jumped around for my son’s team; I met another side of me. The contemptuous soccer mom needs the grace of Jesus. Let me explain...

Our team started the game with a record 1:1 on Sunday at 8:00 a.m. Yes. I said 8:00 a.m. How we are on a team that has a game at 8:00 a.m. on Sunday is yet another post for another day. The tournament began on Saturday with a game at 8:00 a.m. Yes. All this is to say that we were tired. Fried may be another word to describe it.

Joshua scored the first goal with a slider that buzzed past the goalie. Later Luke booted one in. Number 15 on the other team, Mr. Happy Feet, got around John and let one fly past Jake, our goalie. Not long after that our Blake scored in a break-away. We entered the half 3-1. A mom from the other team took the field and did a few dribbling drills her short blonde hair bouncing like David Bowie’s. In a pair of black yoga pants and a bright pink sports shirt, she led the cheering section in some chants. I’m not kidding. I turned away and walked down to the other end of the field. My chair sat right next to the other team since I parked on the 50 yard line.(What is that called in soccer?) I had noticed the mom when she went down the sideline and gave each mother a high five after they had scored their ONLY goal of the first half. She stopped at my chair. Graciously

Second half: In a series of unfortunate events, the other team scored two goals on our Jake who had the sun directly in his eyes. This factor along with the conspicuous slope of the field toward the goal aided their team to tie us 3:3. We went into double over time. No score. As the parents postured and pontificated on the sidelines, the refs called an end to the game through penalty kicks aka PKs.

With every bit of drama as the World Cup, several (I am still learning the rules of soccer and don’t remember exactly how many) team members stepped up and went one to one with the goalie. One from our team, then one from the other team. It all came down to the final kick by the other team. He kept the ball low on the ground and whizzed it into the left corner past Gannon, our brave and very able goalie. A bitter end to a bitter battle on the field.

David Bowie-hair lead the roar from the other sideline. I watched with shock and the alchemy of adrenaline and caffeine with no food churned my stomach. The other team lined up for a high-five parade past Mrs. David Bowie. Our brave warriors deflated slowly left the field not without a few tears.

Coach Graham came over and said our players fought hard. We all agreed it could have gone either way. Hard way to lose, we murmured the comfort of exhausted, frazzled soccer parents. We gathered up our children and chairs and exited the field with dignity.

As I waited in line for the ladies' bathroom, Mrs. Pink Shirt David Bowie bounces in and assumes the place right behind me. “I just love watching penalty kicks,” she beams. “Our team just played an overtime...”

“We played you,” I interrupted her unable to endure more of her glee.

“OH!” she shot back. “You have a great team... that number 1 has an amazing foot.” Thankfully by this time I entered the stall. She was safe from my dagger-eyes. I did not have to interact with her again.

As I reflected on this morning, after we had the long ride home and engaged Joshua on the “what if’s” and the “if only’s” of the game; I realized that I had met a side of myself I did not so much like. A disdainful soccer mom. No hiding it.

I’m aware that soccer games make me question whether I even LIKE people or not. Yelling parents coaching their kids from the sidelines make me cringe. Yet I turn into some version of that as soon as we fall behind after leading 3:1 at the half.

So what does this have to do with CHURCH?

At least one paradigm of church could be to worship God and in so doing meet the empty, orphaned parts of ourselves.

Granted one missing element in this story, so far, is meeting God; yet on the way we beheld the sunrise. We marveled at the fire bouncing off the Batman Building in the downtown skyline. At least part of our souls had turned toward Our Creator - the One who wakes up the Sun. And so when the contemptuous part of me rose up, I knew where to take her. Worship looks like acknowledging the fallen, broken parts of me and depending on my Father to provide the grace.

Sue Monk Kidd writes, “The life of the spirit is never static. We’re born on one level, only to find some new struggle toward wholeness gestating within. That’s the sacred intent of life, of God – to move us continuously toward growth, toward recovering all that is lost and orphaned within us and restoring the divine image imprinted on our soul.”

Meanwhile, back at my REAL CHURCH, Lloyd preached on dying to live and what it looks like to be a disciple. Technology makes it easy for me to hear the message. So later I dialed it up. What does it look like to die in order that I may live, really live? Lloyd said, “In any and every circumstance recognizing: It’s not about me. I don’t have to be right. I don’t have to get my way. When we live that way, the gospel expresses itself.”

This week I am left to ponder the contempt residing in my heart. Confess it. Repent of it. Ask Jesus to blow a fresh wind through this stale heart and wait to see what He does.

gigi |

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Holding dear the fragile, precious promise of life... one moment at a time.

To muse is to be engaged in the present moment, observe something noteworthy, and to say so. I'm a southern girl who notices beauty in every day life and endeavors put that into words.

Church at the Soccer Field

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