Book Review: Compelled to Write to You

I have always been a big fan of personal letters. Back in my high school days, I probably wrote between five and ten letters a week to various friends living around the country. It was always a tremendous thrill to get the mail and discover a response.

I can imagine how cool it would be to write to an author whose book touched you in some way and then receive not only a response to your letter, but the precious gift of a mutually stimulating correspondence relationship. That is exactly what happened to prompt the publication of the book Compelled to Write to You: Letters on Faith, Love, Service and Life.
Liz Mosbo was a 21 year old student at North Park College. When she read Christopher de Vinck's book, The Power of the Powerless, (a book about his mentally disabled and blind brother, Oliver, who lived in his bed for 32 years) she felt compelled to write to him. Amazingly, he felt compelled to write back and the book contains a year's worth of correspondence between the two.

The letters are truly thought-provoking and inspiring. I identified so strongly with Liz, despite being well beyond the stage of life she is dealing with. She is clearly trying to discern where to head with her life when there are many open doors and options and soul-longings to sift through. Her letters articulate the desire for ideals and significance.

Liz begins to explain some of her background as an explanation for her view of God. This paragraph, in particular, deeply resonated with me:

"I have never doubted God's existence.... I am not, however, what I call a "campy," peppy sort of Christian, someone who answers every problem and question with "God will take care of it." I could have easily been that way, not hearing people's real concerns because of my own ideas about God (emphasis mine); but I couldn't be because of the reality that I saw staining all those simple answers. Yes, God is in control of my mother's life, but why was she as an innocent child forever marred by abuse if God is always in control? Why, if God is in control, didn't God make my father's parents more loving and encouraging so that he would feel accepted? Why, if God is in control, are there so many problems in a church, even one filled with kind-hearted people? Why so many disagreements and resentments and anger? Why, if God is in control, do people I idolized at my Bible camp have children at seventeen and get divorced and fall away from their fiery faith? I almost threw out religion a couple of times in my life when I dealt with those issues, but instead was left with a more realistic, sustainable faith in the refining process, one that is hopefully based more on what God is trying to do in the world and not on the failures or successes of people."

Like Liz, my faith has been tested by doubts and confusion. Like Liz, I haven't chucked my faith, but I also respond in ways that are less simplistic. I am willing to sit with the doubts in the midst of declaring God is still good.

I appreciated so many of the things Christopher de Vinck shared with her. At one point he reminds Liz that their friendship is a serendipitous gift. He says, "all, and I mean all, of the most wonderful things in my life have come to me unbidden ... gifts from God, really, and at just the right time. Think about this, Liz. There are people in this world whom you have not yet met but who will have a profound impact on your life. Isn't that exciting to think there are so many people who are just waiting for you?"

I found this idea tantalizing. I can't wait to meet those people whom God has waiting for me at some future junction in my life. It makes the loss of those meaningful relationships (like those I had with some of my colleagues and students in my former work) feel less sorrowful.

I also share his view of letter-writing. He writes, "We are losing each second the art or the impetus to have real correspondences with people. Something too: I like so much receiving mail and having the actual letter and signature of the person who writes. E-mail is so blank-looking with no signature, no feel for the paper or card chosen, no smell of ink. Also, a letter can linger on my desk for days or weeks before I answer it, and I feel comfortable with this because it allows me to write back when I have comfortable time and when I can focus specially on the person I am writing to."

How I would love to embark on a correspondence just like this one. One where each individual truly renders forth their soul and the exchange is even and mutually stimulating. I had just such a correspondence during my high school and college years. My deepest questions were poured out, knowing full well I would receive a response that required equal thought and effort. I anxiously awaited the return letters and relished the idea of sitting down, of an evening, to pour out another "epistle," as I called them, because they were usually lengthy. Even today, I marvel at the blessings of that correspondence.

Finally, I was intrigued by this confession by Christopher: "I have had various experiences in my life when I fought God's plan for me, and that struggle placed me in near-depression. Each time, however, when I said yes to the path that was obvious, the pain and doubt were lifted."

I wondered if, perhaps, this is something of my own struggle. I wondered if maybe I am merely fighting God's plan to place me squarely in a spot of extreme loneliness, filling my days with meeting the needs of others and finding so little to bolster my own soul or my hunger for companionship. I truly was stuck on this page for a long time and still don't know whether I am fighting or submitting to what God has called me to.

To me, this is an identifying characteristic of an outstanding book, when you come away lingering over questions raised during the read. This was actually my second reading of this book. A few weeks back, I found myself using the words of the title, "compelled to write to you," in my own correspondence and it reminded me of my copy of the book. I located it and began to read it anew. It was interesting to contemplate how I drew different things from the book this time than I probably did in my last reading. There were things that I obviously was ripe for this time around. I am grateful to own the book, so that I may read it again ... a few years hence, and glean even more.

If you cannot lay hands on this book, you might wish to read Christopher de Vinck's brief essay about his brother, Oliver, or some of his essays at www.thehighcalling.org. You could also visit Elizabeth M. Mosbo VerHage's blog. They both have great things to say and the wherewithal to say it well! As for me, I'm long overdue for locating a copy of Christopher de Vinck's powerful book, The Power of the Powerless.