A slight retraction

Can you retract something slightly?

If so, then I do temper my last post. I finished Dwelling Places by Vinita Hampton Wright last night and truly enjoyed it. The first paragraph was haunting and the story tragic, sad, and sweet. And nothing was tidy. The dialogue was even realistic, normal. There was even a couple of sex scenes! *gasp*

"In Beulah, Iowa, widow women all over town garden in the clothes of their deceased husbands. From a distance, they often look like small-framed men. They keep their husbands clothes because it's wasteful to throw away hats and shirts that still have wear in them. They wear the clothes in the memory of the men they have survived, even after the scent of them has been laundered away."

That's how Dwelling Places begins. The story of a farming family who has lost its identity and grip on the world once farming is no longer their vocation. Their ties to the land and each other slip away and each attempts to navigate the foreign world in their backyard. Mack has spent two weeks in a mental hospital after his wife finds loaded shotguns. His brother, Alex, drank himself to death. His wife, Jodie, contains her anger and seeks the smile of another man. Kenzie, their 14 year old daughter, prays and meditates on a picture of Jesus until she can see his eyes move. Young Taylor, named after his grandfather whose death was tragic and mysterious, dresses in black, wears makeup, and speaks as little as possible. And matriarch Rita does and does and does, trying to keep them all together.

I won't say too much more except to recommend it. It's not Brothers Karamozov or anything but a worthy, modern novel of a modern family trying to find their way and their faith.

Velma Still Cooks

A few months ago, our book club heard Lauren Winner speak at RTS on her book, Real Sex. She mentioned how ashamed she was that she had not included anything about sexual violence in the book and would redress that omission if there was ever a future edition. She cited Velma Still Cooks in Leeway by Vinita Hampton Wright, a Christian ficiton novel with a storyline of rape and abuse within the church. She called Wright one of "our" best Christian novelists. I was curious enough so I suggested we read it for the next book club meeting.

Now, generally speaking I do not read Christian fiction (at least not anymore)and I'm kinda proud of the fact that our book club of intelligent, insightful Christian women has not read any Christian fiction until this novel. I glance through the flyers from the Christian bookstore and I'm generally disgusted by the plot summaries. Yes, I did read just about every Janette Oke book as a kid (my mom worked at the church office for my middle school years so I read just about everything appropriate and interesting in the church library). I read the Mitford novels the summer I was pregnant with Rebekah, partly because I was bored and partly because Lauren Winner mentioned them in Girl Meets God. I did not really like them. And I'm beginning to wonder about Winner's taste in fiction.

Velma Still Cooks in Leeway does concern, in part, the rape of Shelleye by a high school friend during a date. The boy and his well-respected family are members of her church as well. Little is done about the rape by the church's pastor or board of elders and the girl, now pregnant, initially leaves the church. But the thrust of the novel really is about Velma and her relationship to the town she cooks for at her diner. There are several (too many, I think) additional storylines that Velma comments on since she seems to be connected to everyone through either her restaurant or her janitorial work at Jerusalem Baptist Church, both occupations condusive to eavesdropping or at least knowing all the news of the town. Maybe the discrepancy between what I thought the novel would be about and what it actually was contributed to my disappointment. I commend Wright for tackling a tough subject but I wish more of the novel would have focused on the Shelley and the boy who raped her. There is a much tighter and better-written novel within the one I read.

Reading Velma has highlighted my general disgust for things with the adjective "Christian" in front of it. I thought the same things while watching Facing the Giants. Apart from poor cinematography and editing and acting (I know they didn't have a Hollywood budget) the script was blah! (I can't think of the word I want that is not too mean.) Why does "Christian" fiction have to be so trite, so poorly written, so cheesy? And what does a writer (of fiction), who is a Christian, write about so that his or her work does not come out so cheesy? Is anyone producing contemporary fiction that is good? The Christian life is anything but trite and cheesy; why does it come out like that? Or is it just me?

Maybe we've been listening to NPR too much....

This afternoon, as R gets dressed up in some mismatched clothes as a costume of some kind:

"Mom, I'm getting ready to go to the neutral party."


Actually, it's from Click, Clack, Moo, where Duck, the neutral party in the conflict between Farmer Brown and the striking cows and hens, delivers the ultimatum that there will not be any electric blankets. Also great is the follow-up, Giggle, Giggle, Quack.

For real?

I leave tomorrow afternoon for a weekend women's ministry retreat in Sarasota. I haven't been on one of these since college. That time I went with the ladies from my home church--the ones I used to babysit for and who taught my Sunday School classes. The speaker then was Nancy Groom, the theme, "This is My Story." She has a remarkable story of sin and grace, depression, redemption, hopelessness and faithfulness. Her books are incredible too, if you can find them.

This weekend will be different, I'm sure. For one, the location is fabulous; Lido Key in Sarasota, on the beach. I'll be there with women who are more my peers, though I'm pretty sure I'll still be about the youngest one there. Of course, this time my thoughts may be divided between there and home. I've never left B overnight and I've never left R for two nights and I've never left them with D. (I've stocked up on chicken nuggets, peanut butter, and milk and made sure every bit of clothing in the house is clean.)

The speaker this time is Linda Werner, who I mentioned a few posts back. The theme, from best I can tell, is about understanding your purpose. I think this is a big theme for Linda in her ministry. I struggle off and on with this. I don't doubt my role as wife and mother and I've relinquished the career ambitions for the most part. Occasionally I do long for a more academic or intellectually challenging task--though coming up with workable definitions for some of the words R asks is keeping me on my toes. Sometimes I'm able to dismiss those feelings, sometimes I can channel it into something else (blogging helps a bit and I've even made power point slides for an invisible classroom). I also struggle with self-confidence or self-assuredness. Now for my family and husband who have seen my hubris, my resoluteness, and my insistence on my opinion, that's sorta funny to say. But as much as I can be prideful and confident--or at least look the part--I truly doubt my abilities in many things. My years of teaching wrecked havoc on me as I felt like a failure most days. I still honestly don't know what I'm good at and how to use it. I usually don't believe people when they compliment me; I have a hundred reasons why they're wrong in their perception. And I flee failure by not attempting anything that I may not be successful at. I don't think I'm going to figure it out this weekend, by any means, but I'm hoping God may speak to some of this.

I do have some plans in the works for '08 so I'm glad this retreat comes so early in the year. I think it will be a great kick-off for the year. I'm not a resolution person though so we'll see how it goes. Also, I tend to get, well, a bit cynical about how girly women's retreats can get. I'll try to keep it in check.

So pray for me this weekend--and the rest of the ladies--as we have some time away and out of our normalcy for rest, retreat, and reflection. I pray that this will be a remarkable weekend in whatever way God wants to use it.

P.S. And pray for the man of the house. R already said this morning that they'll go to Chick-Fil-A for lunch and dinner.

Tell Me What You Know

Of all the new music I got this Christmas (which seems to be when I get partially caught up), I was most excited about Sara Groves' new album, Tell Me What You Know. Her voice is captivating and her lyrics poetic, insightful, and inspiring. This latest album sounds very similar to Add to the Beauty, which is not a bad thing and is not to say that the song sound the same. After taking a few chances on The Other Side of Something (which I still loved), she stays in the vein of beautiful, classy music with interest and variety.

The inspiration for most of the songs on this album come from stories and travelling she has experienced through the International Justice Mission. She has tried to capture the dignity of people victimized by human trafficking and genocide and hope in the face of defeat. "It's too heavy to carry and impossible to leave. I can't just fight when I think I'll win. That's the end of all belief. And nothing has provoked it more than a possible defeat." (The Long Defeat) The song "Abstraction" wrestles with our American Christian security and the abstract idea of the numbers lost in war, disease, famine, and other unpleasantness that we don't think through to reality.

I do think my two favorite songs (at least at this point in listening) come in the middle--"Love is Still a Worthy Cause" and "When the Saints." Granted, they are both upbeat, belt-it-out tunes to sing to but both also touch on the central theme of our hope in Christ, because of His love for us and the rescue mission that He accomplished. And that we have been given examples of real people that through His strength have cried out for freedom for God's people. That enables us to press on.

On a personal note, I'm just amazed at her accomplishments and creativity, all while being a mom (to three now) and wife. It actually sorta shames me. I keep whining that maybe if I just had time to think I would come up with something. Here she has traveled to Rwanda and New Orleans right after Katrina, read all the materials that she quotes as her inspiration, and writes/sings/records fabulous music.

Oh, and this came with a DVD of a concert and some footage of their travels. There's a full length video of her trip to Rwanda and this gives a few clips from that. But in the concert she sang a few songs from her kids' album, Station Wagon Songs for Parents. I may have to get that one too. One was about her son looking like an angel when he sleeps--and like Charles Bronson when he cries. The other was about wanting her kids to be independent, to grow up, and to leave--but don't forget to write, call, visit all in her most manipulative guilty mom way. And she says she's discovered that you can put hand sanitizer gel in a water gun and just squirt it at kids who come near yours. Ahh, a mom after my own heart.

The Lighter Moments

I'm sitting here ripping some new CD's so I can synch them to my new MP3 player (my Christmas gift from my hubby). The best part of my present is that he had snuck around for a few days and had already ripped about 50 CDs by Christmas morning so I was all ready to go. Once I've been able to listen to the new music I also got I'll be able to give my reviews.

But here are some of the lighter moments of the past week or so. I've already posted about B's cupcake withdrawal and my mom's "senior moment" with the lasagna, so I'll move on to others I remember.

Friday after the memorial service, at my Grandma's house: R is high on attention. She's going back and forth between the breakfast nook and the screened porch where most of the family is gathered. "Everyone needs to focus. Focus, everyone," she keeps repeating with deliberate and dramatic hand gestures. Then, "Nana, what does "focus" mean?"

She orders me out of the porch at one point and says only the big men (her daddy, papa, and granddad) are allowed. "Just these mens, Momma. These are the three wise men." They bust out laughing. I reply, "I don't know if their wives would call them that, more like wise guys." D's comeback, "I dunno, we give gold, frankincense..."

My brother gets a chance to e-mail over the weekend and sends some pictures. I wish I could share them. He's super intense and a bit scary looking. To his wife, who is staying with us a for a few days, he sends a picture of himself without a shirt on, to show off his six-pack he's been working on since he's been a bit bored and has been working out a lot. She shows them to my mom and we mention that we didn't get that particular shot in our e-mail. Then we wondered, who took the picture?

D asks R what her favorite part of Christmas is. "Um, getting all my presents." "What else?" he asks. "Opening all the presents." "What else besides the presents?" "Everyone coming to our house."

M.I.A.

This has been quite a week (now week & a half), full of lows and highs, laughs and tears. I'll reflect more later but to get you caught up, here I go.

Starting last Sunday: Celebrating B's birthday with baseball-iced cupcakes, family and friends. B screams ear-piercingly in the bathtub as I remove cupcake crumbs from his clenched fists. The boy loves his food. Mom e-mails to say Grandpa has been moved to a hospice hospital.

Monday night: I'm up puking (I've no idea why, don't start rumors). B's up with night terrors.

Tuesday: Mom calls and needs me to go to Winter Haven. Dave's mom is out shopping less than an hour away so I throw some essentials in my bag, switch cars with Dave, and I'm off. I get to the hospital in Auburndale around 1:00. It's rough. My grandfather is uncomfortable, the nurse and doctor trying to get the right mix and dose of pain medication, we are told he has hours to days. Meanwhile, my dad is flying from Knoxville to Charlotte, my mom picks him up, they repack bags, and start driving the 8+ hours to FL. My grandfather is stabilized. They say the hearing is the last sense to go so we talk to him, sing a hymn, and try to make the day go. I leave around 7:30 after my aunt arrives. My parents get there around 10:30. My mom and aunt head to the house around midnight. My dad and grandmother stay the night.

Wednesday: Mom calls in the morning to say that Grandpa has died.

Thursday: Clean house, do laundry, run errands, make beds, wrap presents, deliver presents. My sister-in-law (married to my brother) gets a flight to Orlando for 11:50 that night. Dave makes me sing with Rockband on Xbox to keep me awake. I pick up my sis-in-law and we finally get to bed at 1:00.

Friday: The memorial service. I get everyone out of the house, dressed in their finest, by 7:50 AM for the hour+ drive to Winter Haven. Dump the kids in a nursery with a stranger (to me and them at least). I take one look at the port-a-crib they have and know that Ben will not be taking a morning nap. I think the thing would have fallen apart if she attempted to put him there. The service (at 10:00) is short and simple, very Lutheran, high church. I pretty much made it through "How Great Thou Art," my grandfather's favorite and the one we sang to him at the hospital. The homily reflected my grandfather, even the rough spots, and I had to look at the banners and candles to keep from losing it. My purse was a wad of wet tissues by the end of the day; so was the one I lent my mom. Long receiving line of people I didn't know. The old men with tears in their eyes were the hardest to look at. Had to explain which one I was (a granddaugther, Mike's daughter, the one with the great-grand kids) and we had to explain who Sarah was (granddaughter-in-law whose husband is in Afghanistan). What a trooper she was. Back to the house for lunch with my grandparents' friends and out-of-town guests. Grandpa never liked the receptions at the church and never went. R flitted about from one white-haired lady to the next, plus she had two sets of grandparents and great-grandma. She was pepped up on people, for sure. Made it through, went home, ordered pizza, went to bed early. B woke up at 1:00, screaming again, didn't go back to sleep for good until 4:00, maybe, in our bed. Grr!

Saturday: Threw the Christmas tree up since now everyone is coming to our house for dinner. My parents come over in the afternoon. We eat roast, veggies, and Sister Schubert rolls for dinner--comfort food! Then the girls head out for a movie--something normal, according to my mom. We see Atonement. Very good, though my eyes did shut a few times. We all sleep good that night.

Sunday: Church in the morning. My kids are in their Christmas outfits. Man, they looked good. Mom and I then go to Costco and Publix during naptime to shop for Christmas dinner. INSANITY! Then Amigos and margaritas for dinner and a drive through Spring Valley to look at lights. More normalcy returning.

Monday: Christmas Eve service was wonderful. I loved the music, the lights, the stars, the candles. D got R for the last few songs and the candle lighting. We come home to what we think will be our traditional Christmas Eve lasagna but there is no delicious fragrance awaiting our arrival, despite the oven being on and the timer counting down. The problem? No lasagna in the oven. Mom won't be living that one down for a while. So we get out some cheese and crackers and pop open champagne (sparking wine to be precise) and toast our departed on a bittersweet evening. We finally ate around 7:00.

Tuesday: All manner of family descend on our house. Long day short, we eat, we eat some more, and people play Rockband. B does his screaming from 8:00 til 9:30 at night instead, which is an improvement. I run out of diapers (the only time I have ever done this) and have to go to Walgreens at 9:30 on Christmas Day. At 1:00 AM, R gets up to use the potty and screams that she doesn't have any hand sanitizer. B sleeps till 7:00.

Wednesday: Meet the family for breakfast at First Watch. I don't want to eat again until New Year's. D starts a house purging. We run out of steam around 10:30.

I know this has been a long post. Thanks for reading this much. I'll post more humor from the kiddos, reflections, and new music reviews later.