I always have a yearly goal to read one month a book. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail (it usually depends on whether or not I had a baby in that calendar year). Along with my reading goal, I planned to blog twice a year about the past six months' books. However, I've finally realized I can never keep track of what I've read, and I should give up on such grand organizational schemes. I constantly text one of my best friends (a voracious reader who recommends much of what I read) and ask her "Do you remember what I've read this year?" She usually remembers better than I can. But to save her from another one of those texts, I am just going to share a brief list of some of the books I've read in the past year and half. I think (hope!) I've read more than this, but here are reviews for a few books that stick out in my mind. The Rosie Project and The Rosie Effect - These are definitely worth reading. And in a strange turn of events, I actually liked the sequel even more than the first. The second book is more focused on the main character, Don, rather than his love interest, and he is hilarious. I would shake with laughter in bed while reading these and then read random sections out loud to Micah, so he could understand the hilarity. The Good Girl - A thriller about a kidnapping/murder gone wrong. I read it fairly quickly, which is always a sign that a book is good. Station Eleven - This is one of those dark, melancholy stories with bittersweet moments throughout. If you are in to post-apocalyptic literature, this one is for you. The author wove the stories of multiple different characters together brilliantly, so even though the story is sad, the narrative is worth the read. Flowers for Algernon - A modern classic I had never read. So sad, so good. Extra interesting if you are into science, brain development, or psychology, but also appreciate a good novel. Bird By Bird - Loved reading Anne Lamott's classic book on writing (especially since I was working on my dissertation at the time). If you are a writer of any sort, this book is uplifting and practical. Don't Make Me Count to Three - I finally buckled down and read my first parenting book (other than Babywise, which I love). I thought this book was practical and Biblical. Some of the stories about her own children (now grown up) were kind of cheesy, but once I got past that issue, I found her instruction to be very wise. She spent time explaining why we discipline in certain ways according to Scripture and how to probe your child's heart to uncover their sin in order to share the Gospel in every disciplining moment. Allegiant - So I finally finished the Divergent series. This is one of those trilogies that goes downhill with each book (I thought Hunger Games was the same way). The first book is the best, but you are so tied to the characters and the overarching storyline, you keep reading the series even though the follow-up books are pretty mediocre. I will say, I actually liked the ending on this one though. Next up: The Martian and All the Light We Cannot See ... Read more
The Tapestry
Here are my most vivid memories from childhood... Kaiser rolls and animal crackers at the grocery store. Burger King crowns. Popcorn for dinner and Murder She Wrote. I remember few of the details of my birthday parties, except for my surprise party in second grade, only because I cried when everyone jumped out and scared me. I don't remember the details of our vacations. I don't remember spending the night at friends' houses. I remember the simple things. The rituals of our ordinary life made sweet by my parents' love for us kids. Each week my mom would take us to the grocery store. Upon arriving, my sister and I would each get a fluffy kaiser roll from the bakery bin to eat while we shopped. On special days, we would also get a box of animal crackers as we approached the checkout line, and we clutched our little red boxes with eager fingers. It's one of my favorite memories from my youth. Bakery bread and circus crackers. When we were little, my dad didn't have to work on Fridays, so he would often take us with him on his errands. At some point, we would always stop at Burger King, my dad's favorite place to grab lunch. My sister and I would get chicken nuggets and wear our Burger King crowns with pride as we made the most mundane stops to the post office and the hardware store. Another of my favorite memories. And boring weekend nights at home are forever etched in my mind. I remember eating Little Caesar's pizza while watching Full House on Friday nights. And making a giant bowl of popcorn every Sunday night to munch on during my mom's favorite show, Murder She Wrote. It wasn't even a show for kids, but if you had asked me then, Sunday nights were my favorite. I still have a special fondness for Angela Lansbury after all these years. But you know what I don't really remember? I don't really remember Saturdays. The days we did all the big, fun stuff like birthday parties and trips to the museums and parks. We had a few yearly traditions, like going to the state fair, that remain fond memories, but the "big stuff" during the week... the parties, the picnics, the Girl Scout meetings, the dance recitals, Vacation Bible School... those are all a blur to me. Instead, I remember watching popcorn seeds dance in the hot oil on Sunday nights. I remember the taste of my chicken nuggets and the paper crown digging into my forehead. I remember the shopping cart and the fluffy rolls. That's my childhood. The fancy stuff never stood out to me. It's not that I didn't appreciate it, but it wasn't the fabric of our lives. The tiny threads of love and simplicity that made up our Monday shopping and our Friday errands, those are the tapestry of my youth. Parents who took me out and about with them. Parents who made a ritual out of eating popcorn for dinner. I want to weave the same type of tapestry for my own children. They won't remember the details of their birthday parties or splurging at the fancy donut shop or taking tumbling lessons. Those are all great things, but they won't be the memories forever etched on their hearts. This is what I hope they remember... 6pm dance parties every night when dad got home from work. Eating waffles for breakfast and going grocery shopping with mom. Eating bread out of the bakery bins. Fro-yo dates. Reading the Bible every night before bed. And may I always remember it's the rituals of every day life they will recall the most. The little things, not the big, will make the most profound impact on their minds and hearts. So may I embrace hectic trips to the grocery store and loud music as I fix dinner. In those moments, I am building the tapestry of my children's youth. ... Read more
I don’t have the right…
It started out like most marital fights do... over something incredibly insignificant. This time it was an Instagram photo. It was "dress up" night at camp. Micah wasn't in the mood for a family picture, I demanded one, our kids cried, and I went to the nightly worship session irritated. But, really, it was more than that. The first few nights of camp I didn't sleep at all. I was running on about six hours of sleep spread over two nights. I was exhausted. Easily irritated. It was my last week of summer vacation before I started my new job, and I wanted it to be perfect. I was hoping camp would be incredibly restful or in some way spiritually transformative or deeply restorative before I began this new, exciting school year. Instead, I was incredibly tired, hardly able to focus on the Bible teaching, and annoyed with my husband for not smiling with the correct amount of enthusiasm. The worship music started and I felt my heart harden. I wasn't in the mood to sing. Clearly, God could understand why. Why would I lift my arms or raise my voice when I was going on three hours of sleep? But the music continued to swell. I didn't slowly melt into a soft, joyful, heap. Instead, the Spirit convicted me with this thought... "I don't have the right to withhold my worship." I don't have the right to withhold my worship. Lack of sleep. Whiny kids. An imperfect family photo. Although these issues were amplified in my mind, my heart knew they were no excuse. My mood should not dictate my actions before the Lord. He is still good, even when my attitude or my circumstances are not. I have no right to cross my arms or close my lips when I should be singing out to the Living God. And with that my lips parted and I began to sing. I was still tired. I didn't sing loud. But my heart was humbled before the Lord, and I acknowledged that I have no right to hold anything back from him. He deserves my worship always. And then I thought about how this applies to all areas of my life. Rough day with the kids? I don't have a right to withhold my worship. Conflict with a friend. Job loss. Devastating diagnosis. Plans gone awry. Vacation ruined. Disappointing news. A dream delayed. I don't have a right to withhold my worship from the Lord. And that worship might not always be literal singing. We know from the Bible we are to worship God with our whole lives - with our words, our thoughts, and our actions in day to day life. Didn't get the promotion you were hoping for? We worship God with our first fruits no matter how much (or how little) our paycheck (Deut 26:10). Want to lash out out your disobedient kids or your irksome neighbor? We worship God by showing the same kindness and mercy to others that He has shown to us (Zech 7:9). The car may break down. The kids will fight. Taxes will increase. My friends will let me down. My job may be uncertain. I will often be hungry or tired. I don't have a right to withhold my worship. Though my circumstances will change, God remains the same. He loves me. His Son lived and died for me. His grace covers me. I may want to shake my fists, but God deserves my hands raised in reverence and awe. I may purse my lips, but God deserves hymns of devotion and praise. I may be tired, but He is my strength. I may be irritated, but He is my joy. No matter the day, no matter the trial, He is worthy of my praise. ... Read more
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