Reminders of Sweetness Amid the Sour

My beloved prodigal is approaching a special birthday - 2 decades of life. For him, this is an accomplishment as he has done much to challenge this landmark. Indeed, I wonder if he is a cat, with the requisite nine lives. He has "slipped the noose" repeatedly and this wears on my emotional reserves. My husband cannot bear to look at sweet photos from the past in the midst of our current crisis. However, I needed the reminder of his sweetness and a dozen or so years that were free from the scourge of drug use. God gifted Trevor into our lives almost 20 years ago, and despite much sorrow, grief, and discouragement, I will fix my eyes on the many blessings his life has provided us.

I'm not a photographer. I don't often capture images. Thus, I scoured my blog, grateful for this catalog of memories that I sometimes fail to bring forth. Trevor has always been bright, creative, funny, and thoughtful. I found numerous examples of personalized cards he made for me (often with poetry). Ever artistic (here's art from age 10), he created images paired with sentiments he knew would touch my heart. While the cards are lost in the pack-rat detritus of my life, I can look back on my blog and enjoy the sentiments, the art, and the boy behind these kind gestures.

In my earliest photos of Trevor (from 2008), he was almost constantly in super hero attire. Indeed, on one visit to the library, they pulled me aside and gave me a large stuffed Spiderman. They were purging it from the library possessions and wanted to pass it along to the young boy who always came in dressed as Spiderman.

In 2009, we added our first dog, Harley, to the mix and Trev was very fond of him:

Mid-2009, he cut his own hair (worried it might be too long like his 13-year-old brother's hair):

In November of 2009, I captured this sweet and hilarious video of Trevor reciting The Lord's Prayer. He had learned this in his Christian preschool class. During the recitation, he accidentally burped, then cracked up when I exclaimed that I didn't remember that as part of the prayer.

In 2010, Trev got ahold of a blow torch and singed his bangs off (like I said, his guardian angel works overtime!) - go here to read the whole story and my funny friend Laura's quip in reaction to the tale):

That same year, Trev set up shop selling us his artwork and, in the fall, began kindergarten:

Looking at the photo above, reminds me of another guardian angel moment (on this day his jeans caught in the bike chain and, unable to stop, he zoomed across our street - where cars often speed past at 40-50 mph - safely and miraculously landing on the grass across the street).

In 2011, he went for a brief visit with grandma and found his granddad's war helmet, rode the zipline at CBLI, and became interested in football:

In 2013, we continued to enjoy the zipline at camp:

In 2015, Trevor and I took a special spring break trip to visit with my parents in Florida. He caught a lizard and set him free (despite accidentally severing his tail):

In 2017, he proudly displayed a fish catch at CBLI:

This was also the age of his bottle-flipping stage and in spring of 2018, he created this hilarious basketball spoof video:

The last two photos are from the cusp of our problems with Trevor, when he broke his leg during the first football game of his 8th grade season:

(This is another photo that stirs intense gratitude. We praise God that He spared Trevor's life and the lives of others near the accident that totaled the truck recently.)

It is good to reminisce over the sweeter days amid ones that leave a sour taste in our mouths. We are grateful for the prayers of so many, lifting Trevor before the Lord. I anxiously await his return to the sweet person he was prior to this departure into drug use and rebellion. May God help us cling to Him when timing doesn't speed along Trevor's recovery and return. May the guardian angels, who have prevented numerous perils in the past, continue to protect him.

We love you, Trevor! Don't ever forget it! We long to see you healed of this addiction, but you are a gift, even amid the pain!

Watching my Youngest Soar

Sean is now considered a senior in high school. How can my youngest be at that point? Where did the time go? The upcoming year will be full and challenging, but he has ended his junior year on a good note, receiving straight A's in both terms, even for the AP level classes (AP exam results don't arrive until July). He's whip smart and has a weighted cumulative GPA of 4.101 out of 4.

Bryce and Elizabeth needed to attend a wedding in Austin, Texas, over Memorial Day weekend. They invited Sean to join them there, so they could show him the University of Texas. My nerves were a mess (he's never flown alone before and my brain always goes to things that could go wrong), but I wanted him to enjoy the opportunity. Thus, we secured non-stop flights on 2 different airlines (Southwest on the way to Austin and American on the way back to Indianapolis). As I dropped him off, I verbally attempted to walk him through the process of getting to his gate and onto the plane. 

Somehow, I neglected to emphasize how important it is to get to the gate ASAP. Twenty minutes before boarding time, I received a text saying he had gotten a bite of lunch and was approaching long lines in the security area. He shaved a full year off my life - ha! Thankfully, despite this laid-back approach, he arrived at his gate with ten minutes to spare. He said several things made the first flight horrible. A woman with a husband and 2 kids approached and demanded that he move from his aisle seat to the middle, so her 10-year-old son could sit in the aisle seat in front of the row she selected for herself, her husband, and the other child. Not wanting to create a scene, he complied and wedged himself (the biggest of the 3 passengers in that row) into the middle seat and rode uncomfortably the whole 2-hour trip. With his phone on airplane mode, he was bored and also said the pilot's flying was erratic. Once he landed in Austin, he had to wait 3-1/2 hours in the airport until Bryce and Elizabeth could pick him up (they couldn't leave Dallas until after work).

They were having a wonderful weekend (lots of delicious meals out, a lengthy walk around the University of Texas campus, and a break from the oppressive heat in an outing to Barton Springs). Then, the weather forecast sent me into a tizzy. With severe storms expected in Indy on Sunday (Indy 500 race day), I worried they might cancel his flight, stranding him alone in Austin (with Bryce and Elizabeth already returning to Dallas). The next available non-stop flight didn't depart until 6 p.m. on Monday. At 17, would he be able to check into an airport hotel on his own? Would the airline pay for the overnight accommodation? Would he be able to get himself to the lodging and back to the airport? 

All those concerns were for naught. The flight remained in "on-time" status. He arrived well in advance and boarded at the appointed time. This flight was more comfortable. He made a friend in the young 30-something man seated next to him, who helped him get a movie on his phone through the free in-flight Wi-Fi. 

I was a bit chuffed because they no longer allow you to sit and wait for your arriving passenger on the arrivals deck. Instead, they force you to continue circling the airport until you see your passenger standing there. I could understand that, if there was a bottleneck of traffic, but it was ridiculous because the entire arrivals deck was empty, with maybe 5 cars picking someone up. Not only a hassle, but unsettling for an unaccompanied minor, unsure if he's even waiting in the right place. Of course, Sean said it was fine. I shouldn't worry, yet I do.

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In looking up the meaning of "chuffed" to see if I was using it correctly, I discovered that the British use of this word and the American use are diametrically opposed. I use it in the American sense of greatly displeased or irritated.

Book Review: The Wish Book Christmas

I wouldn't have sought out a Christmas book now, but The Wish Book Christmas is the follow-up novella to Lynn Austin's If I Were You. I enjoyed that one so much, I was eager to return to the characters again for my treadmill time. Thankfully, Hoopla had it available in audio form (at only 4-3/4 hours long). It was a splendid follow-up. I still loved the first book more though.

Audrey Barrett and Eve Dawson are raising their 5-year-old sons together in post-war America. When their boys' addiction to the Christmas toy catalog reaches a fever pitch, the two mothers vow to teach the boys something about giving back and expecting less. Both women struggle against forming new love interests. Yet as the events unfold, they learn more about forgiveness, second chances, and God's enduring grace. This feel-good novella is a great way to celebrate the spirit of the holidays (and was even fun when approaching spring). I may return to both of these again in the future.

Learning to Hold Things Loosely

With three sons passing through the teenage driving stage, I'm not new to car accidents. We've been down this road more than our fair share, I believe. I've had three myself. I hit a tree when backing out of my professor's driveway (while driving my then best friend's car - hmm, no longer best friend 😉). Another time, I glanced at an accident while turning at an intersection and didn't expect a fire truck parked inside the intersection. Yes, I hit a fire truck (not the big kind, mind you, but still...). Finally, a large construction vehicle backed into the road. I was the fifth car back. By the time the car in front of me slammed on the brakes, it left insufficient time for me to stop and I plowed into his vehicle. He was very nice about it - my husband (we were separated at the time), not so much!

My oldest son had three car accidents. The first time, there was condensation on his windshield. He tried to scrape it off, but it remained. Sadly, he drove even though he couldn't properly see. He hit another student's car as she made her way out of the school parking lot. The second time, he misjudged his timing, assuming he had time to turn in front of an oncoming vehicle. He told me with exasperation, "Mom, she saw me and she sped up!" His third accident left us reeling. He was fine, yes, but his beloved Mustang was not.

Now, it is my middle son's turn. When he first began driving, a fox ran out into the road and hit the front of his vehicle. Next, he hit a patch of ice and slid into a stop sign (oh, wait - I've had 4!!! - I hit a patch of ice and slid into a telephone pole, yikes!), requiring a door replacement. Now, he has had his third accident. On the way home from work, on the back country roads, he skimmed the side of a concrete bridge. When we arrived, he was partway in the grass and the tire that was hit was almost perpendicular from the other. They had to change this tire's position to transport it on the tow truck.

This was his beloved convertible. I'm grateful he's alive. No limbs were broken, and the car didn't flip. Still, he is beside himself with grief and determination to fix the thing (please, Lord, don't let him pour more money into a dying vehicle!). He sees only cosmetic damage and thinks it is not a big deal to purchase a new door, etc. Yet, the body shop's initial estimate (which, we all know how those things go up) was $8K. Even if he wanted to fix it himself, he doesn't have that skill set. Plus, we don't know what damage was done to the axle and engine. Needless to say, this has been a stressful start to a new year, following an extremely stressful year.

On the bright side, God answered both prayers offered in the way we hoped. The Lord kept these precious sons safe. Thank you, Lord! Please continue to hold them tightly in Your hand.

Mid-month Mention: Holiday Hilarity and Hits

 

As the holiday season crawls into full gear, I offer this compilation of past posts that make me smile:

That time I unwittingly went out blinking (ha!) - a post from my early days of anonymous blogging

The curious Christmas gift Trevor received and consumed one year

Amazing snow art

A Christmas with many big hit gifts

My favorite Christmas decorations

Fun and funny Christmas ideas

Book Review: Like a River

Granger Smith addresses his book, Like a River, to anyone who has experienced loss. That's a wide audience. Personally, this book resonated a bit too much for me. From the start, I could not stop reading. Although much of his story differs from mine, so many things feel the same. Not to mention the date of their trauma in 2019 matches the date of my traumatic event in 2023. I could relate to his struggles with intrusive thoughts and nightmares. I, too, have sought therapy using rapid eye movement. Parts of this book were excruciating to read. His story resonated more than I wanted.

Granger Smith was outside with his three young children (London, age 7, Lincoln, age 5, and River, age 3) when he noticed silence. Any parent of boys knows to suspect that sinister silence. When he identified the dread, he discovered his 3-year-old son lying face down in the water of their gated and locked pool. Despite efforts to revive the boy, River died that horrible day in 2019. Many responded with judgement and condemnation. Why is it so hard for people to tread cautiously when someone is sitting in fresh grief?

Granger's book emphasizes his drive for self-improvement and his efforts to carry the load with his own strength. No surprise! Those efforts failed miserably. My timing in reading this book coincided with sentences in my BSF Bible study that support Granger's message: "We can do nothing to revive ourselves and restore our relationship with Him. No noble act, payment, right thinking, or self-help program will do what only God can do." (Ephesians 2:8-9) When Granger surrendered himself to the river God had placed him on, and placed his total trust in Jesus, he gained the resources needed to thrive in life once again. This heartfelt testimony has a heavy emphasis on the gospel message of salvation. I identified with his struggles and his solution. Perhaps you might as well.

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On this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the Lord's protection and preservation of my children. It is a gift I do not take for granted and one that blesses me daily. I'm grateful that in our times of lament, the Lord hears our anguish but never feels offended when we struggle with His plan for our lives. He carries us, shelters us, and guides us. He redeems our broken pieces! He makes beauty from ashes! Praise God!

Trevor's H.S. Graduation

Thanks to our school district's outstanding opportunities available to middle-school students, Trevor had enough credits to graduate early. He had originally been on the college track but, in switching gears to a general diploma, he sped through those requirements. I celebrated his achievement back in December with a small cake, balloons, and a card. We intend to take him out for a celebratory meal eventually, since he had a birthday party to attend on graduation day.

Trevor's girlfriend Kylie came with us for the festivities and sat next to me. I regaled her with tales of his youth (hopefully, he won't be furious) and his passion for dressing-up, especially as Spiderman. The school had requested a toddler/pre-school photo along with their senior photo. I'm sure he's relieved I didn't select one of those Spiderman moments to share with all his classmates.

As we sat waiting for the ceremony to begin, I noticed my oldest son's name in the program. Apparently, he donated to the Dollars for Scholars program. Good for him! It was a somber occasion, in many ways. One of the first students to speak was Madi Parker, whose twin sister died from cancer on Mother's Day this year. She did an amazing job of staying composed while encouraging students to appreciate the gift of every day and to remember all the blessings in the past. I said a prayer for her when I noticed her tearing up at the video review for the class of 2023. She is an amazing young person and recently received the Indiana Distinguished Young Woman Award. I attended a garage sale fundraiser for her trip to the national level of competition.

Afterwards, we fell into the crush of people. I wish I had been more intentional about finding a quiet place to secure our family photo. Sadly, we were more focused on getting out of the masses and quickly snapped just two photos. The background is too busy. While Trevor looks great, the rest of us... well, not thrilled.

I managed a better shot of Trevor with his girlfriend. So wishing I had my friend Laura's photography skills... or even a better phone camera. Despite sub-par photographic evidence, it was a fine day for a celebration! He may still have super-powers 😁

Compilation: 7 Books on Raising Boys

Seven! Seven? Can you believe I've only read seven books on raising boys? With a blog called Of Books and Boys, you'd think I would have done more thorough research into the topic of raising boys. Alas, perhaps that is my problem. My library has hundreds of books on raising boys, but I was too busy reading general parenting books and even more busy reading novels. This compilation post was surprising to me. I was sure I had read more than seven books on this important topic. Here is my paltry list from first read to last read:

1. The Purpose of Boys by Michael Gurian 
2. Raising Cain by Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson
3. Boys Should be Boys by Dr. Meg Meeker
4. What a Son Needs from His Mom by Cheri Fuller
5. Raising Boys by Steve Biddulph
6. Bright Beginnings for Boys by Debby Zambo and William G. Brozo
7. Things My Son Needs to Know About the World by Fredrik Backman

So, all you boy moms out there - fill me in. What are the best books about parenting boys that you have read? My sons may be almost grown, but perhaps another mom might be looking for more suggestions.

Book Review: Rascal

Written in 1963, two years prior to my birth, this children's memoir tells of a simpler, more wholesome time. Set in 1918 in Wisconsin (near to my past home in northern Illinois), it recounts the adventures of 12-year-old Sterling North and his pet raccoon. This book has sincere boy appeal, but is also entertaining for all. It made me hearken back to times when you could go on a trip and neglect to lock your house doors, when family was nearby and always at the ready to help you in times of need, and when young boys could make pets of wild creatures without worrying about legislation against them. Dipping back in time with Sterling is a satisfying exercise and made me want to know more about the author. The Amazon listing for the book shows the 1st edition copies go for over $300 now. Of course, you can still access it in cheap paperback modern form and I listened to the audiobook. I wonder if they illustrated the book. Suitable for ages 8-12, this would make an excellent classroom read-aloud.

Book Review: Walter the Farting Dog: Banned from the Beach

Walter may be banned from the beach, but some parents wish this series about Walter banned from the children's shelves. Seriously! There are parents out there concerned about the overuse of the word "fart" in a series of books with special boy appeal. Now, if only they could ban farts, an ever-present problem in our homes. Ha!

My boys, in their younger days, loved the first two Walter the Farting Dog books. I find the series harmless fun. In every book, Walter's farts save the day. In this book, Walter farts "philosophically" and, in a maneuver of biblical proportions, clears a way for his beloved children to make it safely back onto dry land. Since I needed to read a banned book for my library's winter reading program, the final three books in this series fit the bill. By all means, avoid these books if you are sensitive to discussions of natural bodily functions, but leave them on the shelves for boys who might feel more amenable to books because of this hilarious take on a dog plagued by difficulties and judged for his flatulence.

Book Review: The World Played Chess - Highly Recommend

How do I describe this outstanding book? Raw, real, intense, instructive, stirring, and redemptive. This was not an easy read. Many passages made me want to look away. Moreover, it contained that cautionary content that triggered my desire to place a warning on some reviews. It hit all four of the dreaded categories, yet I still rave. I wish my sons would read it (if they were readers), despite the compromising content. I would only insist that they read to the end. If you left off halfway through, you would miss the full maturation process and final conclusions about God.

The title is appropriate, drawn from the adage: "The world played chess while I played checkers." Dugoni deftly weaves three time periods of story into one cohesive coming-of-age tale. Vincent Bianco is now the father of an 18-year-old son, Beau. When William Goodman sends Vincent his Vietnam journal, it propels him into the world of his own 18th summer. Vincent worked with William on a construction job that summer and heard stories about the war. However, opening the pages of William's journal fleshes out those stories in a far more significant way. Thus, the reader follows three men on a journey from boyhood to manhood: Beau (a modern teen used to the comforts of life), Vincent (now a father, but in 1979, a teen on the cusp of adulthood), and William (sent off to a senseless war as a tender teen). In facing down death, they realize the gift every new day provides. They recognize the stakes are far larger than originally imagined.

The war passages are brutal, transporting the reader into the taste, smell, and feel of battle. I struggled because my three sons are close to service eligible ages. War is possible in this crazy world and not just a story. The reality is horrifying. While uncomfortable, I still understood the necessity of full disclosure. Plus, tremendous value lies behind the painful experiences these young men traverse. There "is gold in them there hills," despite the climb.

Dugoni doesn't sugar-coat their responses, either. Obviously, soldiers who live staring death in the face will struggle with God. Yet, I didn't feel this book made God out to be the bad guy in the sky. Nor did it end with a nihilistic tone. Instead, my faith remained intact, and the ending was faith-affirming.

Indeed, the end brought me to tears. It was a powerful story with great purpose and meaning. I keep wishing I knew of a male friend who is a reader, so I could pass along this recommendation. The author captured the teen brain so well. He articulated that underdeveloped pre-frontal cortex that spurs teens into questionable and sometimes dramatically detrimental decisions. This passage near the beginning rings so true:

"Like most eighteen-year-old young men, I inhabited the center of my own universe, though cosmologists steadfastly maintain the universe has no center, that it will forever expand. Try telling that to a high school senior who thinks he's immortal because he has yet to experience mortality and indestructible because nothing has harmed him, who believes he can achieve anything he puts his mind to simply because others have said he can.... The realities of life had not yet popped the bubbles in which we lived. We did not know that nothing is guaranteed, not even nineteen."

So, although I give my content caution, I applaud this amazing novel and all it achieves. The writing sweeps you into the stories while keeping them separate and distinct. Each lesson packs a punch. The emotional resonance sings from the pages. This is a tour de force!

Note: I highly recommend reading the acknowledgements at the end (explains the creation process) and the further resources. My copy also provided 13 questions for book club discussion. I think this would make a top choice and generate interesting discussion and reflection.

Content caution: 📒 - drugs, language, sex, and violence

Book Review: The Undercover Book List

The Undercover Book List, by Colleen Nelson, is like a tween version of The Reading List (reviewed here). Similarities abound. Both books highlight two unlikely individuals brought together by reading and a list. Both books reveal the chasm left behind in a father's absence. An aspect of anonymity drives both plot lines. Characters face family issues. Plus, each offers the reader a host of book suggestions and discussions.

Jane's best friend, Sienna, moves away and leaves her an opportunity to find a new best friend based on their shared passion for books. She initiates what she calls "the undercover book list," a secret correspondence carried out in the pages of their favorite book. Through this series of anonymous notes, X and Y recommend books to each other as their friendship blossoms. While Y knows who X is, X is in the dark. Will X be disappointed when she discovers the true identity of Y? Can Y fill the hole left by Sienna in Jane's life and in Jane's book quiz team?

Colleen Nelson understands middle school students. From her outstanding development of the misunderstood prankster to the intense ache Jane experiences missing her father, Nelson crafts tween characters that are sure to resonate with the intended audience. Thankfully, the book holds equal appeal for grown-ups who might read the book alongside their tweens. Yet another brilliant book stimulating further reading recommendation. This would make an outstanding classroom read-aloud!

Teen's Car Purchase Prompts Intense Prayer

When my oldest son reached driving age, he took over one of our cars. Two minor accidents should have resonated in our brains when he needed a new vehicle. Alas, it did not. Bryce found a Mustang he wanted and, with a bit of help from us and his grandmother, he bought the car. I presented a prayer on my blog for his care and safety in using that vehicle.

Mere months later, we grieved the loss of that car. Again, with our middle son, we let him drive one of our cars. Sadly, because of the miles he was logging (in trips to work and to visit his girlfriend, who lives quite a distance away), he wanted to buy his own vehicle so that he could drive the amount of miles he desired and not what we dictated. We hoped to shop around for a safe and appealing vehicle, swearing we would NOT help him buy something like a Mustang (still sore memories).

Alas, things conspired out of our control. We were already feeling the crunch of three drivers and only two vehicles, when the darn Pontiac (oh, the money we have plowed into that vehicle for repairs, etc.) began to shudder during his drive home. Unwilling to plow more money into that dying vehicle, Trevor needed another car quick! I scoured the internet and found one he agreed on. It was a Ford Focus and, though it was a half-hour drive away, we were ready to go see it the next morning, last Saturday. Unfortunately, by morning the listing was down.

I went back to the drawing board and found a fantastic deal on a 2000 Chevy Impala with 1 previous owner and only 26,000 miles. How is that even possible? That owner put less than 1,300 miles on it each year. The price was a bit more than we wanted to spend, but appeared doable.

Once again, it was a half-hour distance away. As we pulled into the lot, I had hesitations. Then, Trevor saw the car and didn't like the gear shift's placement or the minimal and hidden cup-holders. I was just as glad because I had a terrible feeling about the whole place. I prayed throughout their test drive and rejoiced when he also turned down a second vehicle they showed him (green - yikes).

He had previously mentioned one day getting a convertible. Indeed, I had taken down information on a convertible for sale at a dealership in the town next to ours. It was the lowest priced car on my list. On Monday morning, we'd have to have two vehicles (Trevor heading to the ranch and Sean to pick up his retainer - yes, the braces are off - yippee!). Thus, we desperately needed to complete plans and secure a second working vehicle pronto. So, I called. We went. He saw. He drove, and we left with Trevor the owner of a 2003 (1 previous owner, 134K miles) Chrysler Sebring for a sticker price of under $4000.

I am again covering the boy in prayer: that he will drive safely, that the car will not turn out to be a lemon (the mechanic we had check it said the previous owner took really good care of it), that he will enjoy this teen-boy-dream, and that he will gain a sense of responsibility in owning this vehicle (of course, my husband officially owns it for another year and 1 month). That sounds like a tall order! Still, I pray for it fervently. Teen boys and cars - a true test of trusting God.

Book Review: We Dream of Space - Highly Recommend

Erin Entrada Kelly is a Newbery award-winning writer, yet I don't believe I've read any of her other books. I will remedy that! Her writing is impressive. We Dream of Space is an outstanding middle grade book about a girl, with a complicated home life, who longs to venture into space like her role models on the Challenger mission. I well remember, as I'm sure others do, the images of the Challenger explosion (the Y puffs of smoke) and the feelings of astonishment and devastation. The author steps into the shoes of those children who watched the televised launch while at school. 

Bird and her brothers, Cash and Fitch, each respond in their own way to the parental friction within their home. This proves, once again, that parents give their children an enormous gift when they strive to love one another. But family life is often complicated, and this novel will resonate with those who struggle with such difficulties. The book appeals equally to boys, as it outlines the pent-up rage of Fitch and the frustrating failures of Cash as they both try to find their place in the world. Kelly captures the emotions of tweens. She presents historical fiction sure to inspire young readers to reach for the stars.

Politics, Pandemics, and Prodigals, Oh My!

Photo by Nicole Wreyford on Unsplash

It is November 2020. I am sick to death of my Facebook feed, exploding daily with fomentation of conflicting perspectives. Back and forth, each side insists that their man will lead them to the healing this land needs. "If only So and so is in power, we will see humankind improve." I don't buy it. 

Human effort can never eradicate the ramifications of spiritual illness. No matter who sits in the White House, America remains threatened by wholesale acceptance of sin and sin's infectious disease. This is the true pandemic. The insidious, invisible illness. Are you infected? Is anyone else infected by your actions, your movements? We are free to move about the country, passing along the virus indiscriminately. We are free to place our trust wherever political argument moves us the most. Why do we seek a political cure for a spiritual disease? Arguing a political perspective rarely changes human action.

If plagued by butting heads in our nation, I'm also tormented by butting heads in my home. I've been living in the parable of the prodigal son. Camped there for a season. Fully frustrated with my child's rebellious choices. Equally frustrated that the loving father in the parable does not force his child's compliance. God knows what man needs, yet allows him to choose the very action that creates the chasm. God, in His sovereignty, knows the consequences of our choices. Despite concern for our best interest, He will not dictate our way. There's an old Salvation Army chorus that declares, "His way is best you see... I'm in His hands." (Take a moment, it is worth the listen. Or view the full lyrics, with verses.) But, alas, we can ignore His commands, walk away from the Father, follow the road signs that declare "Happiness... ten miles down the road." Many say, "Get Your hands off me! This is my body! This is my life!"

It is like my child is on a train. The tracks have been blown to smithereens further down... is it over a flat surface or over a catastrophic abyss? Will the end bring minimal damage or maximum devastation? I can't guess the end, but I believe the One who knows and sees the impending danger. And so I post my signs, offer my arguments. Stop! These tracks are not reliable. Danger up ahead! Get off the train before it is too late.

But other signs stand posted, and he persists in following those. They read: "This is the answer to your problems. This will bring you the happiness and comfort you desire. Don't listen to the naysayers. They just want to spoil your fun. You have a perfect right to live as you choose. Stay on the train. Enjoy the view."

Relativists say, "You have your truth. I have mine. You believe what you want and I will believe what I want." I don't buy relativism either. Absolute truth exists. Both sides cannot be right at the same time. Yet, even when truth is crystal clear, man will rationalize and justify his departure.

For example, I've been listening to Siddhartha Mukherjee's excellent biography of cancer. The current chapters describe studies with incontrovertible evidence that smoking causes lung cancer. Yet the tobacco companies, eager for profit, spun advertising campaigns to minimize the evidence or call it into question. One man, disturbed by the one-sided advertising petitioned that truths from the other perspective deserved equal time so that an individual could parse through the evidence and make an educated decision about their actions. But here's the dilemma. Even when faced with evidence that smoking causes cancer, people continue to light up a cigarette. Their perceived benefits outweigh the arguments against use. As the book highlighted, some will walk away from chemotherapy and insist on having a smoke. You could post a sign saying "The bridge is out!" and they puff away, smile and say, "Just look at that view!"

Alas, I am a prime example of this. I'm knee-deep in a book about the protocol for Dr. Dale Bredesen's End of Alzheimer's program. As if to set the signs aglow in neon, I had a most troubling experience the other day. We sat at the table. I was disturbed because John had added pepper to the corn (flavoring he desires and I do not). As the others started eating, I said, "Aren't we going to pray?" They looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head. "Mom, we just prayed. You even bowed your head." It brought me to tears. I had no recollection of the moment they insisted had just occurred. Of course, wanting to reassure me, John said it happened because I was perseverating about the pepper on the corn. True, but I saw the sign.

For all the research into better diet and the books about lessening my chances of disease and difficulty, I continue to eat foods I know harm my health. I'd rather enjoy the taste of my cream cheese squares than begin again to rein in my out-of-control eating habits. Argue all you want. I'm going to disregard what I know to be true and eat what I know to be unhealthy.

As for my child, he may persist too. We can argue our perspective until the end of time, but he is free to choose what he will. When we present evidence, he pooh-poohs it and points to articles that support his position. He can find someone to defend his beliefs. He can say, "Get your rules off me! This is my life, my future, my decision." As Proverbs 21:2 says, "Every way of a man is right in his own eyes."

Given the inadequacy of argument, I should despair. If reason does not show the way and if reason, even when admitted, doesn't slow the way, what are we to do? But there I am clear. Arguments will not alter hearts. Superior debating will not affect change. God, in His wisdom, shows me the way. Philippians 4:6 - "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." Luke 18:1 - "He told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart." Only by the grace of God will spiritual eyes open and physical lives mend.

This is the only viable solution for our country, as well. A president will neither make America great again nor make America nice again. It is only a man behind the curtain with no magical powers. As long as we refuse to turn from our wicked ways, we can expect the outcome in which we sit. We cannot contact trace this disease of sin. And God will not allow sin to reign forever. Even His patience has an end. But, His solution again? 2 Chronicles 7:14 - "If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land." Romans 12:12 - "Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." I beg God to root out the pride and pigheadedness within me and remind me of His sovereignty. As Charles Spurgeon wrote, "When you go through a trial, the sovereignty of God is the pillow upon which you lay your head." I'm on my knees for my nation, for my family, for my son. Our solution? Repent of sin, accept His grace, and follow God's biblical road.

Book Review: The Next Great Paulie Fink

I often return to authors whose books have made it to my top ten countdown at the end of the year. In 2017, one of my favorite middle grade books was Ali Benjamin's The Thing About Jellyfish. It is a debut novel I still highly recommended! Noting the author's name, I snagged The Next Great Paulie Fink off the shelves. It took a while to get into this one, but it was another excellent example of writing sure to appeal to more than just middle-schoolers.

Typical middle school angst with a unique twist: Caitlyn Breen is the new girl at school. Her primary difficulty isn't in being new, but rather in feeling like she cannot replace the individual the other students were expecting to walk through the door, Paulie Fink. So where is Paulie Fink? Who was Paulie Fink? Why does he have such a dramatic following? If she can't fill his shoes, then who can?

Benjamin has a knack for including scientific and philosophical tid-bits surreptitiously. I'm sure young people don't even realize how much they are learning in the process. Initially it wasn't compelling enough because I didn't care about the unknown Paulie Fink. But, it was well-worth slogging through the preparation for not only the big reveal but also for the heart of the conflict when the protagonist realizes she doesn't want to leave her difficult new home. As Caitlyn discovers who she is in this crazy equation, she also discovers much about the difficulties of fully knowing another individual. So, amid discussions about Greek philosophers and tending to kindergartners and goats, a bigger picture develops. I finished the book with the rare tender feeling I get in my chest when a book triggers deeper thought and emotional truth than I expected. This book is an excellent follow-up to Benjamin's debut smash.

Book Review: This Tender Land

In 2016, I enjoyed William Kent Krueger's book, Ordinary Grace (reviewed here). As with that story, This Tender Land enticed immediately. Right out of the starting gate, from the introductory two pages, I ached to submerge into the tale. Listen to the marvelous opening:

"In the beginning, after he labored over the heavens and the earth, the light and the dark, the land and sea and all living things that dwell therein, after he created man and woman and before he rested, I believe God gave us one final gift. Lest we forget the divine source of all that beauty, he gave us stories."

"The tale I'm going to tell is of a summer long ago. Of killing and kidnapping and children pursued by demons of a thousand names. There will be courage in this story and cowardice. There will be love and betrayal. And, of course, there will be hope. In the end, isn't that what every good story is about?"

Mesmerizing! While This Tender Land is not a Christian novel, it causes the reader to contemplate the nature and role of God in our lives. Many horrible things have happened to the main character, and he decides that "God is a tornado." His brother has a similarly sour perspective. He sees God as a shepherd who, one by one, eats his sheep. Other characters provide their views on God. If you stop there, however, you'll never get to the hope and redemption in the novel. Stick with it; it is worthwhile!

The young orphans Odie and Albert are the only white children at an Indian Training School, run by a terrible woman they nickname "The Black Witch." She often sends Odie to an isolation room for his many misdemeanors. After another Indian boy goes missing, Odie is convinced he might be next to disappear. Defending himself, he commits a crime that nobody will consider an accident. He flees in a canoe down the Gilead River, taking along his brother, his best friend, and a newly orphaned girl the Black Witch intends to adopt. Like the Gilead River, ambling into bigger rivers and tributaries, their journey ambles into bigger rifts and trials. This modern-day Huckleberry Finn story gives the reader so much to ponder and digest.

Filled with lyrical writing and riveting storytelling, this book offers an enjoyable escape from the world's troubles. In the author's note at the end, Krueger acknowledges his love for Dickens (we share that in common) and tips his hat to him for the opening setting. He outlines his research and identifies the factual bits to the tale. With the stellar writing, quest theme, believable characters and brisk pacing, this book will surely become a well-loved part of our literary landscape.