Category Archives: recommendations

To Have and To Hold–A New Book!

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I’m delighted to tell everyone who will listen about a new book that my friend and mentor, Sharon, wrote. It’s out now! To Have and To Hold is written for women who find themselves alone and wondering how to think about themselves and life and God.

Sharon is a gifted teacher and mentor, and writes out of her own experiences and questions. I was privileged to read the manuscript, and what I liked best is how she is brave to ask and wrestle with questions that have no quick, pat answers. It’s a must-read if you are wondering why there are singles in the world, and what is God up to in your aloneness?

You can order the book now from Christian Learning Resource for only $10.99.

Call  800-222-4769       or email clr@fbep.org for your own copy.

And in your spare time, visit her lovely blog at www.tohaveandtoholdbook.com

Beauty and a Blog

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I’m a bit of a blog junkie, but don’t comment often on them. You’re supposed to get your name out there and comment on lots of blogs so that people find your link and discover your blog. My book needs publicity, but I don’t, and I don’t feel a compulsion to get my name out there, so I’m not driven to do lots of commenting.

What I like best is to have friends who blog, and when they post, I like knowing their email address, and being able to connect via email or Google Chat and have this dialogue going behind the scenes. I like that hugely.

That’s what’s happening with me and my friend Shari these days. Years ago, we were in the same writers’ critique group, and I always liked her pieces, plus her input and advice on what others wrote. Now she’s writing again, and I love to see it.

I think she’s brave and compassionate, intelligent and insightful. She blogs for love of words, and in that she’s able to speak for those who don’t write, but who feel the things deeply, and are happy to find someone who is walking with them who understands. Which is, I think, what our blogs are–not publicity so much as a way to communicate and identify with each other and not feel so alone.

A couples weeks ago, Shari wrote a post on beauty that gave me deep things to think about. I know it’s true that every woman wants to know she’s beautiful, and Shari put into words what is true–that our soul reveals itself and make us beautiful or otherwise, and no creams or colors can hide that. It makes me hope that my wrinkles are/will be from smiles and laughter.

As we mature, we find our inside becoming slowly, inexorably etched on our outside. I know this is true. I have seen it over and over. I love reading faces, and have case-studied this as extensively as possible in my small 29 years, particularly in the 28 ¾ in which I’ve been aware of beauty. People start to look more and more like who they are. It scares the willies out of me.

Each of us is given the wonderful opportunity/ terrible responsibility of painting our own faces. Before 30, only a glimpse of our work shows. After 30… oh boy. Then the peace of my heart begins to take a permanent place on my forehead. Then the bitterness of my soul finds a lasting home in the shape of my chin. Then joy begins to cling to the corners of my mouth. Then anger-in-private carves deep lines in public, to be seen by all. Then humility and confidence awaken visibly, like a halo around my face.

At first, it’s apparent only to those with sharp eyes. Soon, any casual observer can read it. (Isn’t it ironic that many of us find spouses before our souls start to show? Oh boys, beware, beware.)

If you like honest women’s blogs, you’ll like Shari’s. You’ll agree sometimes and giggle other times, like a recent post and its ensuing comments amused me.

Proud of you, Shari, and someday we’ll talk in real space and time again over coffee!

How Many Hours in a Mile?

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Last week, for no reason except that it was in front of me,  I picked up Lewis’ A Grief Observed. Douglas Gresham’s introduction took me in and it wasn’t long before I’d read all four chapters of the short book.

But not without being profoundly shaken. It’s a raw, intimate book, like reading someone’s journal, as Lewis walks  through debilitating grief after his wife’s death. Reading it is like watching the writhing of a man in agony. I barely had the emotional fortification to take it in. Parts of it made me cry, and drew me back to re-read them, as a kind of catharsis and soothing.

Living in a broken, groaning world, even without feeling the deep grief of death, I ask God lots of questions. It calms me somehow to know that He hears and understands and cares, and that’s enough, even though the questions don’t have answers.

Am I just sidling back to God because I know that if there’s any road to H. it runs through Him? But then of course I know perfectly well that He can’t be used as a road. If you’re approaching Him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as the means,  you’re not really approaching Him at all.

Lord, are these your real terms? Can I meet H. again only if I learn to love you so much that I don’t care whether I meet her again or not?

When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of  “No answer.” It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, “Peace, child; you don’t understand.”

Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask–half our great theological and metaphysical problems–are like that.

Heaven will solve our problems, but not, I think, by showing us subtle reconciliations between all our apparently contradictory notions. The notions will all be knocked from under our feet. We shall see that there never was any problem.

Comments on “The Jesus I Never Knew”

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I’ve been reading Philip Yancey’s The Jesus I Never Knew and have only several pages left to read. Like always at the end of a good book, I’m sorry to see the end coming.  Yancey’s calm, thorough, careful writing soothed and fed me when I felt restless and hungry for rich words and truth.

He writes about Jesus’ world, what it must have been like to breathe that air, to walk those roads. In many ways, I’m not sure that it was so different from today’s gritty, tentative, restless towns. More than ever to me, Jesus is the hero to follow, the leader to believe in. And the audacity hits me sometimes, that I say I try to live like He did, because of my colossal failures in loving and serving like He did/does.

The best parts of the book are the last two chapters: “Kingdom: Wheat Among Weeds” and “The Difference He Makes.” The words and ideas are full of triumph and purpose, not heady and empty ideas, but solid and real–truer than our present physical surroundings.

I recommend this book, not just because of the easy-to-digest writing style, but because of the content that can lead to the source of Life.

And as an aside: Someone wrote me recently to ask why I’m reading Yancey, because she heard that he left the faith. I sighed, not because of the question, but because of the rumor. Someone has not been doing their homework, and jumped on a victim and spread a lie without reading to the end of the story.  So Yancey did leave the faith in his youth, but the fruit of his life now shows his allegiance to Christ. Who hasn’t done stupid things when they were young?

Please do yourself a favor and when you hear negative things about an author, don’t write him/her off as poison. Ask good questions of people you trust, don’t believe everything you hear or read on the internet, read books with discernment. ALL books are going to be flawed because their authors are flawed. But we can be students and ask good questions and learn the good that people have to teach us and at the same time be honest about the things that aren’t truth.

(The aside turns into a rant so the speaker steps off her soapbox.)

New Hope Singers CD !

Posted in Poland, recommendations by

The latest Hope Singers CD is ready for shipping now. Although we sang mostly in Polish at programs, most of the songs on the recording are in English, and arranged by our conductor, Lloyd Kauffman.  You can order your copies today!

This is the repertoire:

Praise to the Lord
Let All the Nations Praise the Lord
Ghospodi, Pomiluy (Lord, Have Mercy)
Father, I Adore you/Alleluia
Fairest Lord Jesus
In Christ Alone
When Peace Like a River
Tryumfy Królu Niebieskiego (the Triumphs of the Heavenly King)
He’s Got the Whole World
Amen
I Can Tell the World
An Unclouded Day
Królu Niebios (King of Heaven)
O Healing River
Barka (My Boat)
Blest Be the Tie

To order recordings, contact:
The Family Bookshop
4041 St. Rt. 26E
Montezuma, GA 31063
Phone: 478-472-5166
E-mail: elmest@juno.com

 

Joy Like Swords

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I read these assorted words this week, on a theme I keep bumping into:

The Lord our God is One and in Him, all the fragments of life are woven into one piece. In Christ, we’re aren’t ever torn. In Him, all brokenness is made whole, all moments are made holy, all pieces are made one.   —Ann Voskamp

Why must we always insist that the destination is the most important measure of success? We put so many worry hours into our future only to discover that it keeps changing.

My years pursuing and practicing the job of sign language interpreting were not wasted. They brought with them necessary gifts for my life: the gift of listening for the purpose of understanding, the gift of learning how to do the work, the gift of becoming comfortable in my own skin.

That season prepared me for this one. But at the time, I was sure that season was all there would ever be. I was sure I would be a sign language interpreter for the rest of my life.

What you are doing now may not be what you’ll be doing this time next year. Those things you care so deeply for now may seem small a month from now. Might I boldly suggest that the season you are in carries hints of what you’ll be doing next? This season is a kind companion, escorting you to the next one. And then the next. We would be wise to sit back a bit and enjoy today’s adventure, whatever gifts and sufferings they may hold.

Neither the accolades nor the critiques are worth anything. Don’t force something as valuable and sacred as the definition of your life to fit onto the small, flat, earthly paper of a degree or a certificate. They will come and they will go and they are important. But they do not get the final say. For in HIM we live and move and have our being. —Emily Freeman

“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! Is everything sad going to become untrue?”

And the minstrel sang to them… until their hearts, wounded with sweet words, overflowed, and their joy was like swords, and they passed in thought out to regions where pain and delight flow together and tears are the very wine of blessedness.  — Tolkien, The Return of the King

 

 

Sing the Glories

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He came, John wrote, full of grace and truth.

Grace and truth. Truth and grace.

I mull the words, mixing them in a million ways, and always they stay only two words. Two words that dazzle me, words so big that I can’t get my head around them. It’s good I’m not trying to understand ten words.

I am desperate, panting, wanting to absorb what they mean and what they are.

Truth defies darkness, illumines, clarifies. To live with one lie–even half a lie–is too much darkness to endure. What is the truth about this situation? What can dispel the lie I believe here? Living in light is what we were created for, and it is beautiful.

But truth alone can kill, can cut to the bone, can devastate. Truth can be scary, and we unconsciously adopt ways to avoid it.

Grace moves into the cracks that truth opens. Grace soothes and softens. It never refutes truth, never distorts the light. It gives space and understanding and patience. It gives when it could rightfully demand. It forgives when it could justly expose.

Humans, in their finiteness, are prone to the either/or limitations of grace and truth. We try to be balanced, and try to come out with a good average. But Christ, in His fullness and perfection, came FULL of both grace and truth.

The wonder of it catches my breath and makes me hungry for the same fullness, the same richness. I know how my fallible heart harps on truth without the balm of grace, but the next minute slathers grace in the shade, disregarding the full truth.

I see that real change in the world and in me happens at the place where grace is poured onto truth.

The bishop told Jean Valjean who’d stolen the silver:  “You promised to become an honest  man. You no longer belong to evil but to good. With this silver I ransomed your soul, and now I give you back to God.” The truth was that he no longer belonged to evil. Accepting the grace poured onto that made Jean Valjean a changed man .  Javert, though, tried to live his life without breaking a single rule but truth by itself it had no power for lasting change in himself or anyone in his world.

(If you’ve never read Les Miserables go quickly and get a copy to read over Christmas break.)

He who is full of Truth and Grace is my life model, and I love Him, however feebly and childishly. His truth takes away the shadows of untruths, and His grace softens the hard edges of this fallen, tired, broken world.

He rules the world with truth and grace, and makes the nations sing!

Book Giveaway!

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Quick! Run to Michelle’s site to enter her book giveaway. That is, you’ll want to try for it if you’re a bride or need a gift for a bride or even if you were a bride 20 years ago.

Michelle and her sister Christy co-authored this book, and I’m so proud of them. To be honest, I’ve not read it from cover to cover–oh yes, I guess I did when it was still a Word document–because it’s not the kind of material I need in this stage of my life. But women who have read it give it rave reviews. And I’m even one of the guest authors, and slipped in a chapter about brides relating to their single friends. So you could read the book just for that chapter. Ha!

It’s a happy memory: Michelle and I cross-legged on her couch, both with a laptop, editing each other’s manuscripts. So it wasn’t professional editing, but there’s nothing like a friends being honest with each other about how to tune up their words.

I believe in the book’s message, and the way that Michelle and Christy come along-side women, and let them feel that they’re not alone. Writing from the middle of their lives as new brides gave them a voice of understanding and credibility. The book is honest, personal, and articulate. I cheer for their vision and the way I see them pour their lives into their own families.

If you don’t win the book, you can contact Michelle: (434) 760-3853, or visit the website to order a copy for yourself and/or a friend. It makes a wonderful gift, you know.

I Met Philip Yancey in Warsaw

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The tickets were expensive enough that I probably wouldn’t have gone except that my brother-in-law said I really need to: Philip Yancey’s your favourite author–you have to go!

I’m so glad he urged me. I’ve read eleven of Yancey’s books, some of them several times. I read his books because of his honesty, the way he grapples with hard questions, and the way he uses words. His sentences carry a rhythm, a cadence, that takes you along with his thought processes.

His Polish publisher organized the day, and we convened in a small, quaint hotel’s conference room on the 2nd floor. From my seat I looked out the window and saw the pastel row houses of Old Town, Warsaw.  There were maybe 100 people there, which made the sessions feel relaxed and personal.

We were together the whole day. Philip had four sessions where he talked mostly about the subjects he writes about: faith, prayer, grace, and God’s ways of creation and redemption. The last hour was a Q&A session.

Uncharacteristically, I hadn’t let myself hope for much. I didn’t want to go to be in awe of him, because I dislike raving fans of anyone. It’s not fair to be agog at someone. I do respect him hugely, but  I didn’t know if he would be as engaging as his books are.  And I knew it was unfair to take for granted that I knew him as a person. When you read someone’s words, it’s only part of the whole person, and you can’t expect to know them just from that.

As Philip spoke to the group, I got the feeling that this is a common man who thinks uncommon thoughts, and I wished that I could know him casually, like be able to go to his house with my friends to have coffee with him and his wife.  Later, I had a chance to talk with him, and it was most pleasant. He was gracious and interested in whoever was in front of him. I felt like we spoke the same language, and that it transcended our words.

Later I found his website, and read this: “Unlike many websites, this one emphasizes words and de-emphasizes graphics. I am, after all, a writer.” Ah! Someone else who blogs because of words and not photos! It made me happy that I not only met a writing hero, but also came away feeling that we understand each other.

As for recommendations, read his Disappointment with God, as well as Soul Survivor (it’s his favourite, he said), all the ones co-authored with Dr. Paul Brand, and his latest: What Good is God?  which is a collection of his speeches and the context behind them.  I hope that when you read him, you’ll feel understood too.

Even Teachers Need Teachers

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When I attended a weekend seminar on depression, I wondered where the main speaker went for advice. Where does the counselor go for counsel? He had so much wisdom and experience to give, and I respect him so much that I almost put him on an unfair, high pedestal. But of course he’s human, and needs input from other people.

Then when I trained to become a massage therapist, I started wondering where does the therapist go for therapy?

I don’t know how our present generation compares with former ones. I only know that me and my peers tend to think we’re pretty well-informed on every subject, and we can spout off ideas and opinions, and we think the world owes us an audience. I think it’s partially connected to the narcissistic behavior we can adopt on blogs and social media.

That said, we do have good things to learn from each other. We CAN build up each other, inform, teach, advise.  At the same time, I want always to be able to listen, to be taught, to know my own mind but to acknowledge that my perspective is limited and even flawed.

Every counselor needs a counselor. Every therapist needs a therapist. And EVERYone needs a mentor.

My mentor is a wise lady who, several years ago, asked me a pivotal question that changed my life direction.  She’s a gift because I didn’t go out to look for her. She saw me and pursued me and even when she saw how ugly and messed up I was, she didn’t cringe or flinch. I don’t live near her, but at least a couple times a year, I email her with my current questions and issues. She answers with insight and calmness that heals me like little else does. And she keeps me from being dependent on her, because she keeps pointing me to God and what He’s up to.

When I’m afraid that I’m using her, she reminds me that God uses people to help people, and that she wants to hear back from me.

I say this here because EVERYone needs someone like this in their life. You might have to ask someone to be your mentor. You might have to make the first move, and tell someone that you really need them to give you perspective and advice on your big issues. And don’t kid yourself–you’ve got issues. If you don’t think you do, ask yourself why you got so angry the last time someone disappointed you. Or why you heard yourself talking to/thinking about your co-worker or sister or boss in a less-than-loving way.

I’m not talking about slotting into the touchy-feely world where you only think about your feelings and experiences. You can give, and give well, but you can never know so  much or have so much experience that you don’t need others to help you.

My old wrinkly-faced friend Pepita used to tell me, “The day you stop learning, your toes curl up.” She was over 90, so she should’ve known.