Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash
I stand on the porch
as the storm rolls in
A rumble of thunder
sends the kids running inside
or to me
I no longer fear the storms
as I once did
midwest storms meant trouble
might be close behind
tornado was a term to be feared
mother assured me
we were safe in the valley
according to a legend
I believed her
In the midst of my fear
I read books to my brother
calming him
calming me
I did not understand
how someone could
dance in the rain
sing its praise
I love a rainy night
I did not love the rainy nights
but kenny loggins and
my favorite family
made me believe I could
No storm was ever as bad as I feared
lights out
no power
sometimes it was fun
The day the flood came was not fun
water poured into the basement
the pump stopped when the power was cut
three feet of water
turned our basement into a lake
our possessions floating
like boats
We never fully recovered
from the flood
It rained today
I stood in the kitchen
and watched as the dirt drank
the downpour
Let it rain,
my soul breathed.
The garden needs the water
I welcomed the storm
I once feared
Before I tell you everything I loved about this book, a story and a confession.
I have loved Billy Coffey’s writing from the first page I read. And though I had only read two of his books before this one, his writing is among my favorites all time. Last month, I had the opportunity to meet him. He gave a reading at a writers’ retreat I attended in Virginia, and nearly every attendee of the retreat can tell you how I gushed and fan-girled and made an awkward fool of myself telling him and his wife how much I loved his writing. He was so kind and they were both gracious. I mentioned that I had requested his new book for review months earlier and it had never arrived. (My plan had been to buy a book from him but he didn’t bring any along.)
Me with Billy Coffey
“You can have mine when I’m finished,” he said.
I think I gaped at him and mumbled something and then figured he’d probably forget about the offer and it would be no big deal. I’d just buy a copy anyway. But sure enough, after the reading, I approached him to tell him that I lived in Lancaster, where his mother’s side of the family is from, and he handed me the book he had just read from. I felt even more awkward as the ONLY person at the retreat with a copy of the book, so I ran to my friend’s van and stashed it in the passenger side and told not a soul except her (until now).
I finally had a chance to read it and it was worth the wait.
On to the book itself.
Two important notes about this story, in case you judge a book by its title:
1. There is nothing “small” about it.
2. Don’t let the world “magic” scare you away.
I can’t properly describe how I feel about this story, or any of Coffey’s stories. Reading them often lets loose some feeling in me that I didn’t know need to be freed. It is the kind of story that leaves you feeling happy-sad because it is true. There is nothing false about this fiction.
From the naming of characters–Abel, who is not able-bodied–to the turns of phrase and the pace that make you feel like you’re smack in the middle of the mountains of Virginia, Coffey’s writing is nothing short of stunning. (I try not to exaggerate when I review books. I wish I could give this book more than five stars because it is not in the same category as other books I’ve rated five stars.)
Coffey peels away layers of the story in such a way that I was never sure where we were headed. At one point (you’ll know it when you get to it) I gasped because I had not seen it coming. Looking back, maybe I should have, but I was so drawn in by the journey of Abel, Dumb Willie and the beautiful girl on the train that I did not know. Even in the final chapters, I could not predict how it all would end.
It is a rare book that can produce so many feelings that ought to be contradictory but instead are complementary.
Coffey’s books haunt in a good way. They don’t offer simple or easy answers, and they just might challenge what you think is the way of things. You are guaranteed immersion into a mountain culture and it will be hard to walk away.
It’s been a couple of years since I read one of Coffey’s books, but I’ll be reading his other books soon.
If you’re looking for fiction that is spiritual and beautifully written, I urge you to read any one of Coffey’s books. Just be warned that the endings are not tidy and happy like you might think. But they are good and true.