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For my daughter, the sponge

Picture this: My 3-year-old daughter and I are in the bathroom of a pizza place. I’m waiting with her while she goes potty. Meanwhile, music plays from a speaker overhead. We hear these words:

“The French are glad to die for love.
They delight in fighting duels.
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels.”

As the words reach my daughter’s ears, she repeats, with a hint of incredulity, “the French?” “expensive jewels?”

I didn’t know the song at the time, but recognized it when the chorus came on. (“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”) I wondered what else would come out of my daughter’s mouth as the song continued. And it scared me a little.

When this happened, and it’s becoming more frequent that she repeats what she hears, I was in the middle of reading the book “Plugged-In Parenting: How to Raise Media-Savvy Kids with Love, Not War” by Bob Waliszewski.

Before reading one page, I adopted a “yeah, I’ve heard this before” attitude. I expected the same sort of “blah, blah, blah” arguments I’ve encountered in Christian circles about movies and television and music. I like all of those things, and the idea of limiting what I view has never sat well with me.

Until now.

Although the book is aimed at parents of teenagers or pre-teens, and my kids are 3 and 1 1/2, the author has convinced me (or was it God convicting me?) that I need to seriously consider what I view and listen to, if not for my sake, but for theirs. As a result of me reading this book, my husband and I have already started talking about what needs to change. While we limitedly practice media discernment for ourselves, we could take it farther.

Mr. Waliszewski’s arguments are loving and not condemning, powerfully convincing and backed by statistics. His is certainly not a popular stance, but God does not call us to popularity. He calls us to obedience and holiness.

Thanks to this book, I’m taking another step toward both.

 

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I received a copy of “Plugged-in Parenting” free from Tyndale House Publishers in exchange for my review.

It’s also on Tyndale’s Summer Reading Program list. Click here to join.

I Review For The Tyndale Blog Network

 

 

Permission control

Week 3 of the My Loss Their Gain Campaign. Pounds lost: 0. Pounds gained: 2.5! Blech. Back on the home scale this morning, and while I wasn’t surprised, I was disappointed.

Yes, I made poor eating choices. My youngest was sick, away from home, thus away from our doctor and didn’t sleep well most of the week. Neither did I. So, I compensated with too much coffee, too much Diet Coke and chocolate whenever I could find it. I was on deadline for a writing assignment, too. With the added child sickness stress, I snacked a lot in the afternoon trying to stimulate my brain to function.

The crowning moment of the week, however, was a haircut.

I thought that would be good for a half-pound of weight lost, at least. It’s good for morale, anyway.

The day that most characterized my eating struggles this week was Saturday. I attended a bridal shower (food+cake+punch=full), then joined my parents for a pizza/baseball game trip, where I added to my gluttony. And paid for it later. (Pizza+breadsticks+Diet Pepsi+ice cream+popcorn=becoming too familiar with the guest bathroom when I should have been sleeping. Enough said.)

A long car trip home capped the week.

So, here I am short on sleep, with leftover road snacks in the house, in desperate need of a trip to the grocery store. We’re home for 2 1/2 weeks before we head back to family and friends in Illinois.

And this is what I need to practice before then: self-control. I’m not always going to be able to eat only what I’ve bought in my house or cook the foods that are best for me. We will go out to eat. We will eat at family member’s homes. And even though one friend made concessions with me in mind (thanks for the wheat tortillas!) I don’t expect everyone to do the same.

I will memorize and apply this verse to my eating habits.

“Everything is permissible”—but not everything is beneficial. “Everything is permissible”—but not everything is constructive. (1 Corinthians 10:23)

Am I free to eat whatever I want? Yes. Does it benefit me to do so? Is it helping me with my goal? No, on both counts.

Let’s end on a positive note so that my whole week doesn’t seem like a downer: I ran 2 miles on night with my cousin’s wife, something I hadn’t planned for my week but really appreciated. And, my grandma is on board to match my pledge for pounds lost. So now, for every pound I lose, $10 will go to help widows and orphans in Liberia. Great news!

Now, I owe it to them to get back on track.

A tough pill to swallow

There’s a scene in “I Called Him Dancer” where the title character, who is homeless at the time, considers suicide by swallowing a handful of sleeping pills. He puts them in his mouth, then hesitates before swallowing. The bitter taste of the pills fills his mouth as he considers his fate: Will he end it or won’t he?

That’s sort of how I felt about the book. 

I liked the idea of this novel: Gifted dancer makes it to Broadway then falls from glory, ending up homeless and in the gutter of life. Former dance partner makes it to Broadway in search of gifted dancer. Can she help him rise again?

But I have to be honest: I really wanted to like this book, but I couldn’t. I cared just enough about the characters to wonder what happened to them, but if I hadn’t committed to reading the book for this blog tour, I wouldn’t have finished it.

I never really felt like I was part of the story. It was more like reading a report. And I found some of the circumstances and plot points unrealistic and hard to believe. I think the author, G. Edward Snipes, would have benefited from a few more editorial eyes on this piece of fiction and more time with the story. If books are like babies, I think this one was born prematurely.

That said, writing a novel is tough work, and I applaud Mr. Snipes for doing the work and believing enough in his story to publish it.

Read on for an interview with the author by Christian Speaker Services. He seems a likeable fellow with a quick wit. I’m sorry that didn’t transfer to the novel.

What made you write I CALLED HIM DANCER? Have you ever danced, taken lessons?

The only dance lesson I’ve received came when I was walking in the woods. A yellow cloud surrounded me and I began swatting yellow jackets like a break-dancer. Upon reflection, I don’t think I had the grace needed to make it big, so I quit after my first lesson. No more bees for me.

The inspiration for I Called Him Dancer came from a song performed by Tralena Walker and co-written by Tom Webster. I attended a meeting at the Atlanta Writers Club. Tralena and Tom were guest speakers. The topic was on how to write a story in lyrics for songs. Not my cup of Formosa Oolong, but at least it was entertaining. After performing the song, “Dancer,” either Tom or Tralena said, “We’ve been looking for someone who will turn the song into a novel. We think it would make a great story.”

Until those words were spoken, I was a passive observer. I looked up and words were swarming around me like those yellow jackets. They attacked my head while I lay screaming on the floor. Okay, maybe I didn’t scream – but my mind did. In an instant, the story unfolded in my mind and I knew this was something I was to write.

I knew nothing about dancing (other than what the bees taught me). Tom and Tralena gave me the lyrics and I started researching and writing. I have to admit that I worried about the dancing scenes, but I knew things took shape when people began asking how I became so knowledgeable about dance.  I thought back to the bees and said, “It’s just something that hit me while walking in the woods.”

Have you always wanted to be a writer?

When I was a child, I got my first book. I flipped through the pages, then tore it apart. I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s exactly what you do when editing a manuscript.

I hated writing when I was younger. I only did what I had to do, and sometimes not even that. Writers block was more like writers dementia. My mind didn’t return to me until after … hmm. What were we talking about?

In 1998, I became active in prison ministry. Many of the men I ministered to were eager to learn. Someone asked me if I had my studies or notes on paper. I agreed to write out the next study and then my writing career was born. The problem wasn’t that I couldn’t write. It was that I didn’t have something to say. Or didn’t realize I had something to say. Over time writing transformed from a task to a passion.

Is I Called Him Dancer your first fictional story?

My first fictional story was written in high school. It wasn’t supposed to be fiction, but hey, the best fiction looks like the real world, right? I’ll tell you the story.

In high school, I had a class that was dedicated to writing a 30 page research paper. I chose the topic, The Arms race between the US and Russia. It was the 1980s when the Cold War was still on everyone’s mind. We spent weeks in the library researching our topic. I say ‘we’ in the general sense. My research was sports and other useless browsing.  At the halfway point, we had to turn in our research note cards. The teacher graded them and as she returned them, she said, “Some of you aren’t going to pass this class.” She paused in front of my desk as she said this, and then dropped my notecards on my desk. She continued, “You cannot write this paper with less than 70 research cards.”

I counted my cards. Seven. A very weak seven. This information must have shocked my brain, for I didn’t even think about this again until the teacher informed the class that the rough draft was due in the morning. “Holy cow! It’s due tomorrow?” I said.

After school, I visited a few friends, ate dinner, and watched TV. It was now nearly bedtime. No more goofing off. I sat down and began to write. The information flowed. I clearly needed more research sources, so I interviewed military experts born mere minutes ago. But hey, Colonial Imagination was still a source. I wrote thirty pages – somehow. And I got a good grade in the class. After all, no one had more expert sources than I did.

I should have known then that writing was in my future, but it would be more than two decades before I discovered a passion for writing.

Tell us a little about your book, I Called Him Dancer.

For a moment, Michael danced on top of the world, but one bad choice turned his life upside down. The once promising Broadway star now washes windows for tips and lives among the homeless. When his former dance partner recognizes him behind the fray of whiskers, shame drives him away from her. Angry at God and the world, the Dancer refuses to allow anyone into his life. When everything is stripped away, three things remain: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love.

I Called Him Dancer is a story about how one woman’s enduring faith and unconditional love drives her to reach out to a homeless friend, who has given up on life.

Who is your favorite character in I Called Him Dancer?

The character that inspired me the most is Kenyon. Many readers have stated the same. He’s human, struggling to do what is right, and lives by a genuine faith. At times he wrestles between what he knows God wants him to do, and what he wants. Kenyon is down to earth, not preachy, yet his life has an impact on others.

In the story I tried to present Christianity in an honest light. Many who claim to be Christians show hypocrisy and drive others (like the Dancer) away from the faith. This is a real problem in the Christian culture. Kenyon shows what sincere faith looks like. He’s far from perfect, but his simple faith impacts those around him. Kenyon’s sincerity is something the Dancer can’t understand and it piques his curiosity.

What would you like your readers to take away from this novel?

I want people to look at the reality of how faith impacts the world around us. Hypocrisy is being pretentious about faith, and there is a difference between failure and hypocritical behavior. Christians shouldn’t feel dejected when they fail. It’s part of this life of reaching upward.

Also, we all know someone who appears hopeless and hostile toward God, but we don’t know what the Lord is doing behind the scenes. Ultimately, hope is what everyone should take away. Hope that readers are not alone in their struggles. Hope that our lives can make an impact – even with our imperfections. Finally, hope that the people we care about are never out of God’s reach.

How can readers get in touch with you?

You can flash a light on the clouds that says, ‘Free chicken fingers,’ and I’ll play Batman music and come running. Some people prefer the simpler route of connecting with me on Twitter @eddiesnipes. My Facebook username is eddiesnipes. It might seem like a strange coincidence, but my LinkedIn name is also eddiesnipes. Even more crazy is my website: http://www.eddiesnipes.com. On each of these, I just closed my eyes and typed out random keys. I might have peeked on a few letters. You can get the book through online bookstores or your local Christian bookstores.
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I was given a complimentary copy of this book from the author in exchange for posting the author’s interview on my blog. This blog tour is managed by Christian Speaker Services (www.ChristianSpeakerServices.com).

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For a chance to win the book “I Called Him Dancer,” visit the Christian Speaker Services blog here. 

How to be a man

I’m not a man (shocking, I know!) but I did once dress like one for a costume party. (The man I dressed as would become my husband. How’s that for a rare pickup line?)

That, in no way, makes me an expert on how to be a man, which is why I’m grateful for Tony Dungy’s recent book “Uncommon.”

When I decided to read it as part of the Tyndale Summer Reading Program, I didn’t realize it was directed at men. Though, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dungy is, after all, a household football name.

I almost stopped reading after the first couple of references to “being a man,” but I decided to stay the course. I’m a mother to a son, who blessedly, has his father in his life. But I thought it might be wise to glean some insights for the future.

Dungy offers a ton of wisdom, not all of it new or profound, but the book is gripping, and Dungy speaks with authority. In a dadless age, he offers a voice of paternal support, blending compassion and a call to discipline and respect with ease. He comes across as the kind of guy who will tell you how things are, good or bad, and you still like him afterward.

I’d consider this book a must-read for teenage boys, whether athletes or not, or young adolescent boys without a father in the picture, and the moms who raise them. Dads, grab this book for a good read, too. Especially if you feel like you’ve messed up and have no earthly advice to offer your sons.

I was surprised by how much I learned from a book aimed at men. It may not have taught me, personally, how to be one, but I’m inspired to raise my son to be the best man he can be.

Great ex-temptations

I’d love to tell you that week 2 was a great success, a triumphant victory, a jumpstart to the My Loss Their Gain campaign.

Not so.

I spent the week at Rock River Bible Camp, one of my favorite places on earth, counseling at a camp for high schoolers. I had the best of intentions to start the week, and actually, I didn’t do too bad. I skipped the chips at the first meal, chose a Rice Krispies treat over a brownie for dessert and ate a 100-calorie fudge bar during snack bar duty instead of one of the dozen or so candy bars that stared me in the face. The next day, I woke up early and ran a mile, then ate two bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios and some fruit for breakfast.

That’s when the week took a turn, both for the better and the worse. By breakfast, we’d lost power and as the day dragged on, it looked like we weren’t going to get it back anytime soon. The kitchen staff got creative with meals. We used buckets of river water to flush the toilets. We improvised chapel times to use the most daylight we could. By day’s end, we had enough generators to power some of the camp, but not all of it. So, we had showers, but no hot water. And no fans for sleeping at night.

It was a great experience for this challenge, in light (pun intended) of the electricity availability in Liberia, which I’ve heard is unpredictable at best. Some of the kids complained about the circumstances, which reminded me again of how little we know and think of the rest of the world.

While at camp, I also began reading “Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger,” a book published the year I was born. Even though its statistics are outdated, its arguments, so far, are compelling. I was particularly struck by this quote from the book, especially on our day without electricity. It’s a quote from another book, “An Inquiry into the Human Prospect” by Robert Heilbroner.

“The world is like an immense train, in which a few passengers, mainly in the advanced capitalist world, ride in first-class coaches, in conditions of comfort unimaginable to the enormously greater numbers crammed into the cattle cars that make up the bulk of the train’s carriages.”

We should have been grateful that we had water, even if it was cold, and that our situation had a forseeable end.

No power meant the ice cream bars in the snack bar freezer were fair game, so we hawked them like a ballpark food vendor. I ate two ice cream bars myself. I’m not proud of that. Over the next couple of days, I ate dessert at both meals, something I had hoped to avoid. Camp food is delicious and abundant and I am sometimes weak.

Tuesday, our electricity was back. I avoided the nacho cheese on taco day and didn’t eat an afternoon snack, but the desserts were again part of my diet and I had popcorn that night.

Wednesday morning I ran 1.6 miles and skipped lunch because my family came to visit.

My notes for the rest of the week only get worse. Desserts, candy bars, second helpings of monkey bread, garlic bread and lasagna. Add to it all small amounts of sleep and massive amounts of coffee and I think, diet wise, this week was a total disaster. Since I’m not at home, I’m not going to weigh myself this week to see the damage because I like the scale to be a controlled factor.

Here’s what I learned, though:

The Bible says, “No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” — 1 Corinthians 10:13.

I was faced with major temptation for food this week. God provided ways out, but I didn’t take them. I knew going in that I would be tempted to overeat, but I didn’t take steps to protect myself from it. I will have a better plan next time.

This week, I face similar challenges. When I’m not in control of the food that’s available for lunch or dinner, I have a hard time eating healthily and in proper portions. It’s also supposed to be scorching hot and I have a lot of places to be and things to do this week that probably won’t allow for much exercise.

I had hoped to give you hope that I’m starting on the right foot.

The journey continues.

First steps

The first week

Starting weight: 186.4

It’s been an exciting and challenging start to the My Loss Their Gain Campaign. Two good friends in the town where I live have pledged to join me on the journey, which is great from an accountability standpoint. Another friend from college has offered her fitness expertise and support. I’ve been humbled and inspired by the shows of support from family and friends and I’m looking forward to the process.
Fitness and nutrition highlights of this week:
  • Ordered a salad and baked potato at Wendy’s instead of a burger and fries and didn’t even miss them.
  • At our favorite Mexican restaurant in our hometown, I cut my burrito in half, saving a portion for lunch the next day, something I don’t think I’ve ever done there. And it was better the next day because I hadn’t stuffed myself the night before. Here’s the proof: 
  • On a make-your-own brownie sundae, I skipped extra chocolate sauce and whipped cream. At the same party, I didn’t have seconds on salads.
  • Ran 1.7 miles with my husband on Saturday morning.

Those were the successes. I had some failures, too. Like extra helpings of delicious food at a wedding reception. And a lot of snacks while driving 18 hours in the car on Thursday.

This week, too, will pose a challenge. I’m counseling at a Bible camp. Famously good food and lots of it. I’m praying for self-control and the chance to run a couple of times while I’m there. I’m looking forward to the challenge.

Until next week, chew on these comparisons: In Liberia, the life expectancy at birth is 57 years. In the U.S. it is 78.37. In Liberia, the median age is 18. In the U.S. it is 36.9. (Source: The CIA World Factbook.)

So much to say

It’s been the kind of day where things are coming together and life is good, and if you could read my thoughts, you’d hear something like this:

  • Meal time in the days leading up to vacation is an adventure. For lunch, yogurt, chips and salsa, raw veggies and ranch dressing. Dinner is shaping up to be “clean out the fridge” night. Wonder what I can make with applesauce, Greek yogurt, green olives and couscous. Hmm …
  • It’s amazing how much Isabelle has learned from just a few weeks of swimming lessons. She water runs through the pool, not really putting strokes and kicking together, but a month ago, she wouldn’t even let go of the teacher to “swim.” And Mommy and Daddy were superimpressed that the teacher grabbed her hand first to jump off the platform in the deep end because no one else wanted to do it. I’m not sure if it was bravery on Isabelle’s part or naiveté.
  • Making friends is fun. I exchanged numbers with another mom at swimming lessons today for a potential park playdate. I’m not the best at making friends. Awkward is a good way to describe it. I’m never sure if people want to be my friend as much as I want to be their friend. Sometimes I’m timid. Today encouraged me.
  • God knows exactly what I need. Illustration:

I’m an easy target for the sun’s rays, and I’m about to spend a week at Bible camp with high schoolers. Outside. In Illinois. In July. Notoriously the hottest week of the year. Baseball caps just don’t cut it for me anymore, so I’ve been keeping my eye out for something more wide-brimmed. My husband cringed when I told him what I wanted. I couldn’t pass up this beauty. $2 at the thrift store. Husband thinks it’s ridiculous. He’s right; ridiculously awesome.

  • I like taking advantage of deals to provide for my family. Bought $35 worth of clothes at  Kohl’s today and didn’t spend a dime of my own money. Then, found a few more things I needed for the fam at Dollar Tree. Spent less than $10. And besides the hat, bought a pair of shorts and two tank tops at the thrift store for less than $15. I’m not an extreme couponer, but I do think I’m a bargain hunter. Going to try to squeeze in one last hunt tomorrow at CVS.
  • Sometimes, there’s a good reason to get lost. On Friday, while following a friend to the park, we took a couple of wrong turns. We were never really lost, but my friend ended up leading us through some unfamiliar parts of town. Today, I needed those parts of town as I was redirected due to an accident and road construction.
  • Being neighborly takes time and effort, but it’s worth both. We’ve spent several of the last days chatting with our neighbors over the fence between our yard and having unplanned and unbusiness related conversations with our landlords (our other neighbors) when we’re all outside. It’s taken us 3 years to develop these relationships to this point, and in a year, we’ll be in a new neighborhood God-only-knows where. And even though I sometimes feel like we’re a bother or wasting their time, something inside of me sings when the kids feel comfortable enough to want these relationships in their lives.

Whew. No wonder I’m tired and sometimes talk to myself. One more day till we head for Illinois, where more adventure awaits.

All the Single Ladies

I’ll spare you my Beyonce impersonation. Besides, this isn’t a music review; it’s a book review.

On to the book: “Every Single Woman’s Battle.”

I’m not single, but I did find value in this book by Shannon Ethridge. I haven’t read any of this series of books but this workbook/guide quotes a lot from “Every Woman’s Battle,” which piques my interest in that title.

I wish I’d known what Ethridge presents when I was single and engaged. I think it would have been helpful for the foundation of my marriage. Of course, it’s never too late to learn about protecting the emotional health of your marriage or creating intimacy, so I appreciate the questions and tools Ethridge presents.

A couple of questions that stood out to me:

“Do you expect marriage to eliminate all your sexual temptations?”

“Do you want to love God more than anything else? How would that look in your life?”

I did not take time to personally answer the questions in this particular book but they did get me thinking about my own relationship with God and my husband. I look forward to using this in ministry to young women sometime in the future and assessing my own history of sexual and emotional compromise.

Ethridge doesn’t hold back, addressing issues that some might see as controversial, especially in the church. But I think her willingness to shed light on darkness is needed in an age when sexual purity makes a girl abnormal.

Click here for a preview of chapter 1.

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In exchange for this review, I received a free copy of this book from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group.

If you appreciated this review, please take a moment to click the link below and rate it on the Blogging For Books site.

Putting money where my mouth is

It’s time for a change.

I’ve been stuck in a rut for a couple of months now, weight-loss wise, and this weekend I found myself back to square one. Any weight I’ve lost in the last year is back on my body, and I’m supremely frustrated and ticked off at myself.

Sometimes, it’s a matter of not getting to the gym often enough and being too sedentary. Summer, after all, is not my ideal time to be outside in the heat and humidity. But that shouldn’t stop me.

© Jay Crihfield | Dreamstime.com

The bigger issue than exercise — because I actually like to exercise — is food, which I also like. Too much.

I have little to no control over how much I eat. Or, more accurately, I don’t exercise control over how much I eat.

Late-night snack craving? How ’bout some ice cream followed by some chips?

Kids making me crazy? I’ll just pop some chocolate in my mouth and everything will be fine.

I’m not extremely disciplined for my own sake, so while wondering how I might change this set of circumstances, I was presented with a reality that I cannot ignore.

Photo taken by Lalrosiem Songate, general director of the EC Church of India, on a visit to Liberia

It is this: Every 30 minutes, 1,000 people die from starvation. Probably that number is higher. I think the statistic might be outdated. Even so, while we sat in our Sunday School class yesterday, eating cheese puffs, cookies and bagels with cream cheese, people somewhere else in the world died because they don’t have enough food to eat. It was enough to make me want to vomit.

These two events have led me to a personal challenge, and I’m asking you to join me in some way over the next 6 months.

Here is the challenge:

Photos by Lalrosiem Songate. These are children in Liberia. I don't know if they are orphans, but they stir my heart.

For the next six months, I will pledge $5 for every pound I lose to help care for widows and orphans in Liberia through the EC Church’s micro-enterprise program. (Click here for more information. It’s No. 8 in the Giving Catalog.)

I will weigh in on Tuesday, July 5 to determine my official starting weight, and I will aim to post weekly about my journey, including what I learn about hunger and poverty in the process. You can follow the posts under the category “my loss their gain challenge.”

I’m making this public because I need accountability. I need your emotional support, and I need to hear your experiences with weight loss and overeating and, let’s face it, food addiction.

Beyond that, I’m asking you to take the journey with me. Do you have weight you want to lose but just can’t seem to take it off? Pick a cause close to your heart and make the same pledge. Or, if you want to live vicariously through me, make a pledge for my weight loss, too. At the end of the year, I’ll be making my donation based on the number of pounds I’ve lost. You can do the same at that time.

Excited. Nervous. Scared. Intimidated. Hopeful. I am these things and more.

And ready for a great adventure.

So worth the late night

I finished reading “Beneath the Night Tree” by Nicole Baart around midnight, knowing the kids would be up early because they’d gone to bed early. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but I had to know how Julia DeSmit’s story ended.

Julia’s story begins in “After the Leaves Fall” and continues in “Summer Snow,” two books I couldn’t get enough of. And because I don’t want to give too much away about the plot, this review will be less about “Beneath the Night Tree” and more about Baart’s writing style and the stories as a whole.

Honestly, there’s too much to say, so I’ll start with a word: Love! Baart’s writing is refreshing, colorful and imaginative. I could read and reread these stories just to enjoy the word pictures she artfully paints. I connected with Julia even though we have little in common. By the end of the series, I wanted to Facebook friend her, at the very least, or meet her for coffee.

The same holds true for the author. If her personality is reflected on the pages of her novels, then I’d love to have coffee with Baart as well and talk about writing, life and ministry. Reading her bio notes, I felt like her words about herself could have described parts of my life.

The journey readers take with Julia from book 1 to book 3 is heartbreaking yet hopeful. It’s also honest and believable. I’ve never been to the part of Iowa where her story is set, but growing up in Illinois, I felt like I knew the places after reading her descriptions of farmland and changing seasons and rural living. It made me long for home.

Do I have to say more? READ THESE BOOKS! They’re a literary treat that will whet your appetite for more from Baart.

“Beneath the Night Tree” is one of the books on the list for Tyndale’s Summer Reading Program. To join, click here. This is the fifth book I’ve read for the program, so I’ll have a free one coming my way soon. If you like to read and like to get free stuff, I recommend joining the program. It’s  introducing me to new authors and new stories and giving me lots of good reading material for the summer.