Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

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A new African folk tale: Review of A Chameleon, a Boy and a Quest by J.A. Myhre

Because I can’t get enough of Africa and Africa-themed reading, I took a chance on this book, a children’s tale set in East Africa, written by a missionary mom for her children while they lived there. With a to-read pile that is about to bury me, A Chameleon, a Boy and a Quest isn’t the kind of book I would usually agree to review (I received a copy from the publisher through Litfuse Publicity Group). But I’m glad I did.

Think of it as a Lord-of-the-Rings style adventure–shorter, for sure, and not as well developed–but if your kids are into adventure stories that illustrate spiritual truths and point to redemption, then add it to your library.

Watch this video teaser of the book to get an idea of the author’s intent and the scope of the story.

By a few chapters in, I was hooked on Mu’s quest, the choices he had to make to survive, and the challenges he faced as this unexpected quest grew longer.

At its heart, the book is a story of identity, and I’m a big fan of stories that help children see themselves as unique and valuable, created by God for a purpose. One of my favorite exchanges in the book between Mu and the chameleon is this:

Mu, the boy, says, “Forgive my questioning, but I do not see how I could possibly have enemies interested in my whereabouts. … I cannot imagine who would be looking for me.”

The chameleon replies, “That is because you cannot imagine  who you truly are.” (p. 77) chameleon boy quest

A Chameleon, a Boy and a Quest is a story that will engage kids’ imaginations and open conversations about home, identity and how choices bring consequences. But it’s also a story that addresses some of the harsh realities African children face: some chapters include themes of trafficking and the actions of child soldiers. These aren’t to be avoided in a realistic conversation about Africa but should be approached with caution and open discussion depending on the ages and personalities of the children reading.

Mu’s quest made me miss the beautiful landscapes of Kenya I saw earlier this summer, and it reminded me that for many children in Africa, Mu’s story isn’t fiction.

You can learn more about the book and the author here.

Wait for it

“Stay to the right.”

I would repeat these instructions a thousand times over the course of the day. We were on our first family bicycle ride, sharing a well-used trail on a school holiday, practicing with our youngest, especially, how to ride confidently without training wheels and with respect to others on the trail.

It was emotionally exhausting for me, the parent assigned to him. I followed him at his pace, offering encouragement and correction when necessary. Occasionally freaking out when he tried to pass his sister and run her off the trail into the woods or, God forbid, the river. (It wasn’t really that close, but they come by their drama honestly.)

Before this day, it had been eight years since I’d ridden my own bike for any amount of time. I remember one trail ride Phil and I took just after we were married, but not long after that I was pregnant and then there was a baby and another pregnancy and two little ones and well, bicycle riding seemed like a thing of the past.

Then they got bikes and mastered riding them with training wheels and then we parents decided that the day before school started this year was the day the training wheels would come off. The kids learned quickly and practiced well and we saw the possibility of family bike rides become more than just a dream.

The actual bike riding trip was less romantic than I imagined because of the constant instruction and correction. But I remembered that this was a day I had long been waiting for.

In those early years of parenting, I thought I wouldn’t survive it. Seasoned parents told me to make it through the first five years and things would get better. I thought they were lying. Five years seemed so long. My son’s next birthday, he’ll be 6, so “five” will no longer be in our birthday vocabulary.

We’re in a season now that is better in some ways and not in others. There’s no more potty training or changing diapers or constant night waking, but there is homework and spicy personalities to manage, more grown-up things to come.  (Adolescence and puberty scare the you-know-what out of me.)

This bike ride, I’d been waiting for it, the days when we could go on an outdoor family adventure together. We passed other families with older children on rides that day, and I took note: this constant instruction will prepare us for further family adventures when we will all be fully capable of riding our own bikes in our own space.

That’s the way I envision it, anyway.

—

The World Series starts tonight. (That’s baseball, if you’re not aware.) And the Cubs won’t be in it, which is not news except that this year there was a better chance than they’ve had in a long time.

Cubs fans are long-suffering and know well the waiting game. I won’t bore you with sports statistics but let’s just say that a lifetime is a long time to wait for your team to reach the ultimate success.

We will keep waiting, this time with more hope than despair.

—

What if you don’t know what you’re waiting for?

By Lukasz Saczek | Hanoi, Vietnam | via Unsplash

)By Lukasz Saczek | Hanoi, Vietnam | via Unsplash

It was a question I hadn’t considered until recently. I was talking with my therapist about change and my difficulty adjusting to change. She asked me to illustrate it using her sand table (more on this in another post).

So I did.

wpid-20151020_110304.jpgI told her that for me, change or a dream or whatever is like a seed you can see in your hand and then you cover it up with dirt (or in this case sand) and you wait for it to grow. Eventually, you see what you’ve planted.

With our garden this year, we knew which plants were tomatoes and which were peppers and we had to wait to see what would come from each one. We planted some flower seeds that we didn’t know what they would look like when they popped up through the dirt and bloomed, but we knew they were flowers.

But right now in our life, we’re not sure what’s been planted or what’s going to grow or bloom. That’s vague, I know, but if I could explain it more to you then I’d have some clarity myself.

Phil and I have dreams, a vision for our life, but it’s kind of hazy. It’s like we have a pile of puzzle pieces but we don’t know what the picture is supposed to be when it’s done, and some of the pieces might not even belong to this puzzle. Frustrating. Immensely.

So, we’re waiting. But we don’t know what we’re waiting for. (Maybe it’s not that important, but I still want to know.)  Or how long we’ll have to wait. When I see people standing in groups along the bus routes in town, I know that they’re expecting the bus and probably soon. They’ve read the schedule or have been this way before. They know what’s coming and when.

Me? I’m not certain of the what or the when. Sometimes I don’t even know why.

Except that I know that some of the best things in life take time. Home-cooked food is always better than fast food. A Sunday drive on the backroads to see the changing colors is more fulfilling than zipping down the highway at 75. The things I think about over a couple of days are better composed than the tweets I post in the heat of the moment.

As we talked about the waiting in my therapist’s office, I remembered that waiting is an active process. While our vegetables grew in the garden, we still had to weed and water. Farmers fertilize and prepare the soil when the crops aren’t growing. I don’t know exactly what it means to weed and water and fertilize in the waiting season of life, but I know that there’s hard work involved. (And fertilizing is a stinky job.)

There’s work to do in the waiting.

What are you waiting for? And if you don’t know, what are you doing while you wait?

Take a hike: Review of A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson

Years ago, when my husband and I were on our honeymoon, we hiked a mountain and stayed at a lodge in the Smokies. It was close to, or maybe part of, the Appalachian Trail, and it was a beautifully challenging experience to spend most of a day hiking to where you were going to sleep and being without running water for short time. A few years later we discovered a few access points to the Appalachian Trail near where we lived in Pennsylvania, and we did a short day hike.

a walk in the woodsThough I don’t have any plans to ever hike the whole AT, I am impressed with and awed by people who do it. A friend’s son recently got back from hiking half the trail, so his experience was fresh in my mind as I picked up Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for my review through the Blogging for Books program.)

I had never read anything by Bryson before, but I learned quickly that he’s funny as well as observant. The book is full of not only thought-provoking musings about nature but hysterical anecdotes about the trouble he and his friend, Stephen, find themselves in as they hike the trail.

Bryson’s book is part memoir, part travelogue, part research paper as he includes historical information about the trail and the things that have happened on the trail along with facts about the park service. I learned a few things, was entertained and inspired. Reading this book made me want to take a hike–literally.

“Woods are not like other spaces. To begin with, they are cubic. Their trees surround you, loom over you, press in from all sides. Woods choke off views and leave you muddled and without bearings. They make you feel small and confused and vulnerable, like a small child lost in a crowd of strange legs. Stand in a desert or prairie and you know you are in a big space. Stand in a woods and you only sense it. They are a vast, featureless nowhere. And they are alive.” — A Walk in the Woods, p. 44

And although (spoiler alert) Bryson doesn’t hike the entire AT (and now that I think about it, that wasn’t the promise of the book), he does hike significant portions of it and discovers some beautiful areas of the eastern part of the United States. I’ve got a few places added to my must-visit list.

I’ll be adding more of Bryson’s books to my to-read list also.

I’ve heard the movie is not as good as the book (is it ever?) but I’d be interested to see it anyway. If you like the outdoors, even the occasional walk in the woods, check this one out.

This post contains affiliate links, which simply means I get a small return on anything you might buy through those links.

Rooted in reality: Review of Promise to Keep by Elizabeth Byler Younts

I’ve made it no secret that I have a like-dislike relationship with Amish fiction. It is not my favorite genre in general, except when I find a series or an author that changes my mind about the genre as a whole.

And the books Elizabeth Byler Younts has written fit that latter description. Her three-book series, The Promise of Sunrise, has a unique slant–it is Amish fiction set during World War 2 and addresses the tension of a country at war and a community committed to peace.

promise to keepThe final book, Promise to Keep, released this week, and its story centers on a young unmarried Amish woman who has been raising the deaf daughter of an active-duty soldier. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for my review.) Esther Detweiler has been raising Daisy, the daughter of her shunned cousin, since the girl’s mother died. When Esther’s grandmother dies, she and Daisy are all they have left of family. Until Daisy’s father returns.

Joe Garrison is home from war, but the war haunts him, especially at night. He wants to be a father to his daughter, but she has no initial connection to him. As Joe and Esther work to bring father and daughter back together, their feelings for each other grow beyond the love they both have for Daisy.

Though the story started a little slow for me–which isn’t unusual for Amish fiction; I find the pace is often slower, a reflection, I think, of the lifestyle being portrayed–by the middle I was turning page after page, wondering how this was going to work out for everyone. I so appreciate the perspective of someone like Younts, who does not tell a rosy, all-is-well story without conflict or realism, and who has the family heritage–she was Amish as a child–to lend credibility to the setting and culture. Both of those characteristics are what keep me coming back to her Amish stories. I hope we have more to look forward to.

The other books in the series are Promise  to Return and Promise to Cherish but they do not have to be read in order. (Book #2, Promise to Cherish, was my favorite of the three.)

When there's no place to hide

At the risk of causing a popular Disney song to be stuck in your head for months, I have to say this:

“Conceal. Don’t feel. Don’t let them know.”

Of course, the movie Frozen is popular in our house. We have a 7-year-old daughter, and while “Let It Go” is overplayed and overused, its words are rich in meaning and application for life. This particular line, if you’re one of the seven people on the planet who haven’t seen the movie, stems from a girl’s years of protecting herself from her sister and the world at large so she doesn’t hurt anyone with her powers. She hides herself away until it’s unavoidable, and then, she gives in to the power, further shutting people out of her life. When she finally “lets it go,” she’s a destructive version of herself.

Fortunately for her, her sister is relentless in pursuing her and loving her, and it all ends well.

This story reminds me of myself sometimes, how easy it is for me to hide myself from others when I don’t want to hurt them, how I want to give in to the destructive nature inside of me and further push people away, especially if I feel I’ve been hurt or isolated or rejected.

spooky trees

But there is hope for those who want to hide.

—

“My poop stinks, too.”

We were having one of those conversations that happen when you’re living communally for a few weeks with people you aren’t related to. Bathroom habits become public knowledge when you’re sharing dorm-like bathrooms. My husband and I were in Kenya for 10 days this summer with a team of 15 from our church, and the bathroom arrangements were some of the most anxiety-inducing of the entire trip. I am not comfortable sharing bathrooms. I’m often embarrassed by the necessary work that takes place inside the stall. And I don’t like talking about it.

Read the rest over at Putting on the New, where I blog on the 12th of every month.

Where the work of God happens

If you want to see God at work, or the best humanity has to offer, just scroll through the campaigns on GoFundMe’s site.

I have watched in recent days as friends and family and sometimes strangers rally around families in great need, donating thousands of dollars in a matter of hours to help in times of trial.

There is this family, whom I know only from the Internet, but whose story is unfolding in challenging and inspiring ways. Praying for their son has taught me again how to pray for what seems impossible. Has reconnected me to the Spirit, whom I have accused of being absent and silent. Has restored something in me that I didn’t know was lost. And as I watch the dollar number grow I think of the love they are receiving, the assurance that though they are the weary ones in the NICU, they are not alone or forgotten.

And there is another family I do not know–friends of friends–facing cancer, needing financial security during the hardest days of chemo and radiation so the woman/wife/mother does not have to fight alone. Their community, also, stepped in immediately, raising thousands of dollars in a single day.

You are not alone. We are with you. Let us hold you up when you are weary.

This is what the numbers following the dollar sign say to me.

—

Crafting a fundraising letter of any kind is tricky work. How do you convince people that your cause is worthy and important, especially when some people might not agree with you? We learned this when raising money to go to Kenya earlier this year. You can oversell the need with unnecessary drama or you can tell the truth and trust beyond yourself that the funds will come in.

Few people would argue against families facing health crises being a worthy cause. I’m grateful our immediate family hasn’t had to face that yet. Still, I wonder about the kind of words people would use to describe us if we were in need. In the midst of suffering, and often at death, we focus on all the good qualities of the person or people we want to help or remember, even magnifying them beyond the truth. (I’m not saying we’re lying. We just overemphasize the good and overlook the bad.) It’s not bad in and of itself.

But it makes me wonder if we’re creating a system that puts people in categories: deserving of help and not deserving of help. Maybe even those deserving of life and those not deserving of life.

Christopher Campbell | via unsplash

Christopher Campbell | via unsplash

—

Part of me doesn’t even want to suggest this because in my own mind, I’m a compassionate and loving person with a big heart, etc. (Feel free to make a gagging sound right now.) I am moved by the needs of people who are suffering and I want to do something to help.

But what if the person needing help was someone I didn’t like? Or, worse, someone I hated? Or, who had hurt people? What about that? Can you imagine if someone started a GoFundMe page for a horrible person? (Maybe there are some. It might be worth investigating.) Would you give money to help someone you felt was rotten or had been mean to you? If they were dying and needed your help to live, would you give it?

I’m asking myself the same questions.

—

I hear from people that Syrian refugees aren’t worth helping. They don’t say that outright, but their Facebook rants are laced with the truth. Sometimes I want to believe them, but then I read the stories that people like Brandon from Humans of New York are telling and I remember that just because a person is from Iraq or Iran or anywhere not here does not disqualify them from help. Their stories are not so different from mine.

—

Paul, to the Romans: “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” –Romans 5:6-8

Jesus, to His followers and anyone who could hear: “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?” –Matthew 5:44-46

—

I don’t know why good things happen to bad people or bad things happen to good people. I’m also not sure why we say it that way. I like to think I’m a good person, but I know better. I also know that I’m not all bad either.

The Doctor (Doctor Who, in case you’re confused) says it best: “We’re all just stories in the end.” If I walk into the middle of your story and it’s the part where you’re in trouble, I don’t want to have to read all the previous chapters and determine your worthiness before I offer my help.

We can sort that out later.

Let me be like the Good Samaritan who sees a need and acts on it, who gives beyond what is “deserving,” when his enemy is in trouble.

This is God at work.

The book of Acts for today's Jesus followers: Review of Into the Fray by Matt Mikalatos

Earlier this year, NBC produced a TV show about the book of Acts, called A.D.: The Bible Continues, and it was an eye-opening and enlightening look at what following Jesus looked like in the early days of Christianity.

I thought I would never look at the book of Acts the same way again. And I haven’t. mikalatos_IntoTheFray_wSpine.indd

And with this new book by Matt Mikalatos, Into the Fray, I have another whole new way of looking at. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for my review.)

In  Into the Fray, Mikalatos retells some of the stories found in the book of Acts as if they were happening today. Because let’s be honest, how many of us encounter eunuchs today? (This was a particularly enlightening observation for me.) And how easy is it for us to read through these stories set in an ancient culture and walk away unchanged because they don’t seem to apply to us?

Mikalatos is one of the best storytellers around. I’ve recommended his books My Imaginary Jesus and Night of the Living-Dead Christian more times than I can count. He has a way of creatively telling a familiar story in a way that offers fresh challenges.

This book about the book of Acts clears any confusion Jesus followers might have about what the good news actually is and how to tell others about it. But it’s not a book about evangelism or outreach or preaching. It’s a book about transformation and how changed lives can turn the world upside down.

“We never expected our greatest lesson. It was a simple realization: we cannot change the world without being changed ourselves.”

Into the Fray pulls the book of Acts into contemporary culture, and each chapter includes commentary from Mikalatos about context and application of the passage from Acts on which the stories are based.

Fresh insights and relevant stories make this book a valuable study tool and resource for anyone who is engaging with the world around him.

The book of Acts will look new to you like never before.

The day I thought I might never read another book

Two months now, we’ve been back from Kenya. It’s October, and late July/early August seem so far in the past. I can hardly remember what was happening B.K. (Before Kenya) and life after Kenya has certainly been a shock. Life has changed in some ways and in other ways not at all. I’m over the initial feelings of not knowing what to say, though I still find it hard to express all the experiences and feelings into words that make sense if you’ve never been to Africa. If you have been to Africa, I find it easier to talk to you. (Or if you ask really good questions beyond, “So how was Africa?”)

Short of selling everything we own and moving to Kenya (that’s not our path; not yet), I’m trying to find a way to hold on to something that is slipping away. And maybe the truth is that it’s not slipping away, not exactly, but burrowing deeper into my soul. You can hold a seed in your hand and admire its unique beauty, but unless you put it in the ground and cover it with dirt, you’ll never see its fruit or flower.

This is how it is with Kenya.

Our experience is like a seed that is buried now, but I’m watering it and giving it light. The only way I know to do this is with books and television.

In the weeks that followed our return from Kenya, Phil and I watched the documentary “Long Way Down,” the journey Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman took from the top of Scotland to the tip of South Africa on their motorcycles.  They spent two entire episodes in Kenya, and we watched the whole series. We fell in love with Africa all over again, and not just the pretty parts. The series showed Ewan and Charley visiting humanitarian aid projects and war memorials. It was not a vacation, though they stayed in some beautiful areas.

We also watched an animated movie about zebras, called “Khumba,” with the kids. It was a little bit scary for our sensitive child, but it’s fun to see them take an interest in Kenya now, too. When we go to the library or a book sale, they will often pick out books that have an Africa theme. (And I checked out three books about Kenya and Swahili from the kids’ section of the library on our first visit after we got home.)

I tried to read books during this time. In fact, I had packed my suitcase full of books for all the travel and “down time” (har har–we had almost none). I’m not sure I finished more than one book. And when we returned, I couldn’t bring myself to read. I often read for distraction and I was either a) too tired or b) unwilling to be distracted, and I worried that maybe I would never read another book again.

Even now, fiction has been difficult for me. I’ve read six novels in the past two months, and three of them were set in Kenya. I’ve been more choosy than normal about the stories I read, which is a bit of a curse when you have a stack of books to review on your desk. I’m suspecting that when the new year hits, I’m going to have to scale back on the books I say “yes” to.

If you’re interested in the three novels I read that were set in Kenya, they were:

  • A Change in Altitude by Anita Shreve. (It was okay. Mostly about a newlywed couple who decide to climb Mt. Kenya and whose relationship changes after a tragedy. I’ve never read Shreve, and I’m not sure I will again.)
  • Angel of Mercy by Lurlene McDaniel. (Horrible. A young adult pick when I was in a pinch at a library and needed something to read in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. No offense to any McDaniel fans out there, but I found this totally unrealistic.) circling the sun
  • Circling the Sun by Paula McLain. (Excellent. A fictional look at the life of Beryl Markham, whose name I would not even have known if I hadn’t taken an obsessive interest in Kenya. I will read anything McLain writes.)

I love novels, but lately I’m finding that I need to read non-fiction. The first book I picked at the library after we returned was Out of Africa by Karen Blixen. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen the movie, but I was moved by her descriptions of Africa and the surrounding land. It dragged on a bit toward the end.out of africa

And I finished reading Half the Sky by Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn. I started this book months ago but didn’t think I could finish it. Hard stories of what life is like for women in some of the poorest areas of the world, but when we got back from Kenya, I needed to read it and discover how women are finding opportunities to change their circumstances and the lives of women around them. It was more inspiring than depressing.

I also read Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis. I’m late to this party, but I loved reading about she was called to Uganda as a young woman and began adopting girls who needed a home. Her story was a picture of what amazing things God can do when someone says “yes” wholeheartedly.

And I’ve barely scratched the surface of the list of Africa/poverty-related reading I want to do. Maybe I’ll post some updates like this one occasionally. I never knew there was so much to read and watch about Africa.

What books would you recommend? You can leave them in the comments or meet me over on Goodreads and send your thoughts my way.

Let's talk about this running thing

This morning, cold rain falls from the sky and the air has its first real nip. A true fall day if there ever was one. I lingered under the covers longer than I should have, so we scrambled through our morning routine to get the kids to the bus on time.

I ought to be out there now, walking and jogging, listening to some upbeat tunes to lead me through my workout. Instead, I’m huddled under another blanket with a cup of coffee and words to keep me company.

For five of the last six weeks, since my kids have been in school, I’ve reintroduced regular times of exercise to my life. I began, again, a couch to 5k program, and it’s been slow going. After five weeks, I’ve officially completed three of the program’s weeks and I’m not sure yet I’m ready to move on to week 4.

But I’m trying not to be sad about this. I’m a task-oriented person and many times I just want to check the boxes and get it done, but I’m learning to listen to my body and my life and take it as it comes.

Besides the rain and chill this morning, I had a bit of a sore throat. I could go out there running but I might come home having weakened my immune system and be sick for days to come. There will be more running days next week.

This is, in a way, grace.

—

I have a lot of “shoulds” in my life, some valid, some not. Exercise brings this out in me, sometimes, as I run against traffic and imagine the criticisms of passing motorists. (Why I think they think of me at all is another problem altogether.)

That girl should not be running, I think. My weight is more than what I would like, and I am not fast or elegant. My first time out this fall I spent more time adjusting my T-shirt and trying to keep the headphones in my ears and focusing on not dropping my water bottle than I did on anything else. I’ve found solutions and more of a rhythm since then, but I am not what you would call a graceful runner.

Joshua Sortino | via unsplash

Joshua Sortino | via unsplash

But I am running. For multiple minutes at a time. And I am tired and sweaty and red-faced when I finish, but I feel strong and alive.

That, too, is grace.

I pass an older man who walks by shuffling his feet along. And I see others who walk with canes or use a wheelchair to get around, and I vow to enjoy the use of my legs for as long as I have them, even when my calves start to cramp and my feet hurt.

—

Eventually, I want to run a 5K. It has  been five years since the last time. It is a feat I never thought I would accomplish, but I did it once and I will do it again. My husband and I finished nearly last in that race, but we finished.

I’ve heard it said that slow and steady wins the race. It’s a lie.

I think of this when I’m out jogging. I am slow. I won’t win any races or break any records.

Slow and steady rarely wins the race. But slow and steady is in the race, and that, I think, is what matters.

—

There’s a lot of talk in the Bible, especially in Paul’s letters and other epistles, about running the race and training yourself for the Christian life like you would for a physical contest. And it only really makes sense to me when I’m actually out there jogging and running and walking and working toward a goal.

What I love about the program I’m using to build my running muscles is that it’s doable and it starts off gradually. The program doesn’t tell you to wake up one morning after having never run a step in your life and attempt a 5k.

Instead, you alternate running and walking. The first week it’s something simple like one minute of jogging with 90 seconds of walking to follow. This week I’ve just finished, I’m up to 3 minutes of jogging at a time. The next step is  5 minutes.

It eases you into the discipline of running, building your confidence and your muscles at the same time.

And I wonder why we don’t adopt this model in our spiritual lives.

Why do we tell people they must spend 30 minutes or an hour in “quiet time” with God, or insist they read at least a chapter of the Bible daily? Why do we tout the benefits of lengthy prayer times or multiple days of fasting?

Maybe not all spiritual communities are like this, but I don’t remember much in my years of following Christ being said about easing into this new way of living. Spirituality, for someone who is new to it, takes as much training and getting used to as running does to someone who has been on the couch for too many years.

If we wouldn’t pull a sedentary person off the couch and throw them into a marathon, why would we tell someone new to walking with Christ that they must be spiritually strong? Or why would we assume that spiritual practices come easy to everyone who calls themselves a Christian? Not all humans excel at running. It certainly doesn’t come easy to me.

In this, too, we need grace. For ourselves and each other.

—

Back to the “shoulds.”

I should be reading my Bible every day.

I should be praying more intentionally.

I should be at church whenever the doors are open.

I should be reading my kids Bible stories at night.

I should pray before meals.

I should memorize Scripture.

I should trust God all the time and not worry or doubt or have questions.

These are the shoulds that keep me out of the race. (And there’s a whole lot of “should nots” that would take up another entire post.)  When I compare myself to these standards, I want to quit the race altogether. If I believed I could only call myself a runner if I entered a marathon, I would sit on the couch all the rest of my days.

What if instead of focusing on the shoulds, I, instead, faced the reality of where I am and figured out a plan to get where I want to be?

I want to pray more, so I’ll start with five minutes every other day.

I want to know Scripture better, so I’ll start with one verse.

I want to hear God, so I’ll start with one minute of silence.

And when those steps cease to become challenging, I’ll add to it.

That’s how I know when I’m ready for the next step in the running program. If it no longer feels like a challenge, then I’m ready to move on, until that one no longer feels like a challenge, and someday, months from now, I’ll be further along than I thought was possible.

Whether it’s running or praying or helping my neighbor, it matters less to me how much I’m doing than that I am doing.

I’m no longer in it to win it, whatever that means. I’m just in it, period.

Don’t worry about winning the race when you’ve only just begun. Just get in the race. Get off the couch or out of the pew or into a situation that isn’t warm and cozy.

Do the next step. Build your spiritual muscles. See where it leads.

And when you get further along the path, remember the person behind you who is starting off slow and cheer them on for being in the race at all.

Love in the Reformation: Review of Luther & Katharina by Jody Hedlund

A former monk and an escaped nun fall in love, marry, have a family, change the world. Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes, and Jody Hedlund’s new book blends both in an impressive historical novel.

Luther and Katharina. The names probably aren’t unfamiliar to you if you have an ounce of church background, or if you saw the movie Luther, starring Joseph Fiennes, that came out 12 (really?!) years ago.

Luther-KatharinaBut the story of their courtship is one I hadn’t read much about. I would want it in no one else’s hands but Hedlund’s. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher through the Blogging for Books program in exchange for my review.)

The events surrounding Martin Luther and Katharina von Bora’s relationship are sometimes shocking and unbelievable, but Hedlund assures readers in the end notes that much of what she writes is based on fact. Of course, she takes creative license in arranging scenes for dramatic effect, which is why it’s called a historical novel. In previous books, Hedlund has taken real people and events and changed their names and storylines a bit to tell a romantic tale. (For example, in Rebellious Heart, the characters are based on John and Abigail Adams and their revolutionary relationship but their names are changed.)

I loved the weaving of history, religious reformation and romance throughout the story. The characters were full of life and passion, confronted with danger and forced to make hard choices.

It is a gift, I’m discovering, that someone can take historical events and turn them into stories that are page-turning and applicable to life today. Jody Hedlund has that gift. You don’t even have to be Lutheran to enjoy this story!

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I always love a little peek into the author’s world. Here are a few questions and answers about Jody Hedlund and her writing process and life. (And Illinois, friends, I just discovered she has an Illinois connection. Read on to find out what it is!) jody hedlund

You grew up Lutheran. Share with us how your Lutheran background influenced the writing of this book.

Yes, I was born and baptized a Lutheran. In fact my dad was a Lutheran pastor all his life until he passed away. I have an uncle who was a Lutheran pastor until he retired. I went to Lutheran grade school, and my high school alma mater is Lutheran High School in Rockford, IL. I took catechism classes and was confirmed in the Lutheran church. My German and Norwegian grandparents on both sides of my family were strong Lutherans as well. I have a very fond spot in my heart for all things related to Martin Luther since his name and teachings were such an integral part of my upbringing.

It’s obvious that research plays an enormous role in the development of your scenes and the characters that inhabit them. How did you begin the arduous task of researching these two historical figures and the period in which they lived?

One of the first things I do in the early research phase of any of my stories based on real historical figures is I locate as many biographies on the couples and individuals as I can get my hands on. Usually I can get quite a number through my library system. Once I figure out the books that will be the most helpful to me, I usually buy them.

After I have the biographies I spend an enormous amount of time reading through them, taking pages and pages of notes, and trying to gain a realistic grasp of the people and the events that fall within the time frame that I hope to write about (which usually entails the romance relationship–how the couple met, fell in love, and ended up together).

Once I’ve scoured the biographies, I begin the next phase of my research which is to delve into the details regarding the time period and setting. Usually I try to focus on gaining a “feel” for the era. I try to understand the social and political climate. I familiarize myself with wars or other disruptions happening during the time. And then I round out my research by studying clothes, food, homes, life styles, etc.

The process is intense and takes me weeks before I’m finally ready to begin the actual writing process.

Katharina von Bora is a name that most people would never connect with Martin Luther. Why do you think it’s important that we uncover and shine a light on some of the forgotten female figures who helped shape the Church?

My goal is to give a voice to the forgotten women of the past. Since most of history has been written by men, unfortunately all too often the accounts neglect to include or minimizes the many women who played critically important roles in the shaping of history.

As a mother of five children and a wife to a husband in Christian ministry, I’ve had a firsthand learning experience of the incredible work load and responsibility that comes with raising a family, being a wife, managing a home, as well as helping do all of the things necessary to provide emotionally, physically, and financially for our family. As I go about this calling God’s given me at this stage in my life, I have a greater appreciation for the women of the past who also struggled through the same issues (but without all of the modern conveniences that I have!).

I believe modern women will benefit from hearing their stories, will be incredibly encouraged to see these women who persevered through discrimination and found the strength to use their God-given abilities to make a difference. Not only did they make a difference in their era, but today (decades and even centuries later) we can see the fruits of their bravery and strength. These women of the past have encouraged me to persevere and to use my skills and talents to make a difference in my time. No matter how big or small that difference might be, I want to be faithful to leave an impact, just as those women did

As you began to read and learn more about Katharina, what particularly captivated you about her?

I was particularly fascinated by the fact that Katharina had once been a nun. And as we know, nuns take a vow of celibacy.

I was curious to know why she’d become a nun in the first place. What led her to that decision? And then what made her later decide to forsake her vows? What was life like for her after escaping her convent knowing that if she was caught and recaptured, she could face persecution and even death for running away? What were her hopes and dreams for her life after she’d denied herself for so long? What was it like for her to interact with men when she’d never before had the opportunity?

All of those questions and more reverberated through my mind. And what I really wanted to know was how she’d ended up with Martin Luther. What brought this couple together? It was a forbidden love during a time of incredible turmoil. It was a love that was never-meant-to-happen. So how did it come about?

What was the biggest surprise in researching this story?

As I dug into the research, the thing that surprised me most was that Luther and Katharina didn’t experience “love at first sight.” In fact, they had no thought of marrying each other. Katharina was a woman of noble birth and Luther a man of peasant beginnings. They were in two different social classes, which doesn’t sound like a big deal to us today. But at that time, social class was extremely important.

After leaving the convent, Katharina expected to marry a nobleman. And even though Luther preached the goodness of marriage and encouraged other monks and nuns to leave their convents and get married, he had no intention of getting married himself.  So, the question begs answering, how did these two opposite people with opposing personalities and aspirations, end up together? You’ll have to read the book to discover the answer!