Author Archives: Barbara Harper

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About Barbara Harper

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Review: Being Elisabeth Elliot

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Being Elisabeth Elliot is the second of a two-part biography of Elisabeth by Ellen Vaughn. The first was Becoming Elisabeth Elliot (linked to my review).

I’ve written more about who Elisabeth was in that first review and her influence in my life here, so I won’t go into all that again.

Vaughn’s was the authorized biography: she had access to all Elisabeth’s remaining journals and many letters.

After spending months agonizing over whether to leave or stay in South America, Elisabeth finally felt God would have her go home and be a writer. This volume begins with Elisabeth’s return to the US from Ecuador in 1963 with her young daughter, Valerie.

But then she struggled with what to write, now that she had the time and freedom to.

Plus she was processing much of what had happened in her life so far. Christian literature and missions meetings were filled with victorious tales which she had not experienced. “She railed against the image-conscious habits of the Evangelical Machine, whose every story must end with glorious conversion and coherent happy endings, lest God look bad” (p. 272). She rethought some of her legalistic upbringing. She found that often, God’s ways were inscrutable. He couldn’t be boxed in, figured out, or predicted.

But she found Him trustworthy nonetheless. He may not respond the way we think He should. But He proves Himself good, wise, and holy.

Her private musings during this time period might be shocking and disturbing to some. But I think many of us ask some of the same questions at points in life.

In her first book after the initial ones about her husband, his friends, and their ministry trying to reach the Waorani tribe (then known as Aucas), she wrote a fictionalized account of her experiences in No Graven Image. The book was not well-received. Many misunderstood that the graven image in question was their man-made perceptions of what God should be like.

Vaughn goes on to tell of Elisabeth’s struggles with writing, her widening speaking ministry, her challenges raising Valerie, her surprising second marriage, her husband’s agonizing death from cancer, and her third marriage to Lars Gren. She mentions how some of her books came into being, especially the first few. I would have liked to learn more about the rest of her books.

I was surprised how often Elisabeth said in her journals that she never sought a platform, never wanted to get in the middle of a public debate on thorny issues (especially femininity in a feminist word). But she felt as God gave her openings, she needed to share His truth.

Though she came across as self-assured, she struggled with self-doubt.

I was surprised to learn that she dearly wanted to write a great work of fiction.

From the time Elisabeth Elliot returned to the United States from Ecuador in the early ’60s, she had devoured classic and modern literature that evoked the human condition against the backdrop of God’s mysterious universe. She wanted to write great novels. She wanted to engage and stir urbane New Yorkers. She wanted to call into being essential human truths through the power of story. She wanted pages that she had written to stir people’s hearts in the same way she was so deeply stirred, her heart and eyes lifted up, by well-crafted literature, visual art, and music (p. 253).

She attempted this, but ultimately felt it was beyond her. Many of us are glad God led her as He did, writing nonfiction for Christian women.

Much of what I would have liked to know more about was lost due to Lars burning “most of her journals from the years of their marriage, a choice he now regrets” (p. 274).

I started this book with reticence because I had heard negative things about it. I thought Vaughn’s writing was engaging and readable. I agree that she shared some things from Elisabeth’s journals about her physical relationship with her second husband, Addison, that would have been best left out. I agree, too, that she inserted herself into the narrative more than she should have. Vaughn’s husband died of cancer right after she wrote about Addison Leitch’s death, and having traveled this journey with Elisabeth through her journals was a help to her. But this would have been better placed in an appendix or afterword. Plus she “argues” with Elisabeth in an imaginary conversation as to whether or not she should have married Lars. In various other places, we’re aware of the author in ways we should not have been.

I appreciated Vaughn’s difficulty in trying to tell the truth about Elisabeth as best she could. I can’t imagine filtering through all the material available to her and trying to discern what to share and what to leave out. Though overall she covers the same ground as Lucy S. R. Austen in her biography, they bring out many different things as well.

Elisabeth never claimed to be perfect and would never wanted to have been portrayed as such. She was more complicated than many knew.

The very last page of the book tells about the Elisabeth Elliot Foundation, which is placing all her writings and radio programs in one spot. At the very bottom, the page says the foundation’s mission is to give “Hope in Suffering, Restoration in Conflict, and Joy and Obedience to the Lord Jesus Christ.” I thought this remarkably echoed Elisabeth’s ministry as well.

Review: How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One

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When I was in school, the types of sentences we learned about were declarative, interrogative, imperative, and exclamatory. There were also simple, complex, and compound sentences.

Recently I learned about right-branching sentences.

But Stanley Fish doesn’t write about any of these in How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One.

First he spends time explaining what a sentence is: organization of words in logical relationships.

If one understands that a sentence is a structure of logical relationships and that the number of relationships involved is finite, one understands too that there is only one error to worry about, the error of being illogical, and only one rule to follow: make sure that every component of your sentences is related to the other components in a way that is clear and unambiguous (unless ambiguity is what you are aiming at) (p. 20).

He suggests practicing various forms of sentences without regard to content at first to get used to logical progressions and connections. He compares this to learning scales in music.

He expounds on the subordinating, additive, and satiric styles of sentences.

The subordinating style, he says, is technically called hypotaxis. This involves “the art of arranging objects and actions in relationships of causality, temporality, and precedence” (p. 50).

The additive style, also known as parataxis, involves a “coordinate, rather than a subordinate construction” (p. 62).

The first displays “planning, order, and control”; the latter has the effect of “spontaneity, haphazardness, and chance” (p. 61), even though it might be just as carefully planned.

“Satire, the art in which ‘human vice or folly is attacked through irony, derision, or wit'” (p. 89), is a “content category . . . but there’s a lot of formal skill in writing satire” (p. 90).

Fish has a chapter on each of these styles with numerous examples from literature. He also has a chapter on effective first and last sentences, with abundant examples as well. Many of the examples are well-known; some are obscure.

My one quibble with his examples, though, is that many of them are from older writings and are so long, no editor would allow them today. One random example on page 145 (Kindle version) has 76 words and nine clauses. One can say a lot with that much material! 

Nevertheless, the point is taken that effective sentences are thoughtfully arranged, not randomly scattered. 

Some of my favorite quotes from the book:

Language is not a handmaiden to perception; it is perception; it gives shape to what would otherwise be inert and dead (p. 42).

Content must take center stage, for the expression of content is what writing is for (p. 134).

What you can compose depends on what you’re composed of (p. 138).

Evanescence can be produced by language that in its mundane use sits inert on the page (p. 146).

I think I’ll need to read this book again to benefit from it more. It had the misfortune of being dipped into in bits and pieces among other reads. But I think my brain needs a rest first. I was glad I read this via the Kindle app, where I could tap some of the words I’d never seen before and use the built-in dictionary to find out what they meant.

But I can recommend this book for thoughtful examination of what sentences are and how they can be effectively composed.

Review: By Way of the Moonlight

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In By Way of the Moonlight by Elizabeth Musser, Allie Massey’s grandmother, known as Nana Dale, has just died. Nana Dale was an accomplished horsewoman, placing first in several shows and even riding in the Olympics. Their plan had always been that Allie would inherit the grounds, house, and enough money to open an equine therapy business on her grandmother’s property.

But the family learns at the reading of the will that Nana Dale sold the property to a development firm, evidently taken advantage of in her beginning dementia by an unscrupulous contractor.

Now Allie has a limited time to clear the house and have an estate sale before the house is imploded.

Allie is beyond upset. She can’t cope. She even breaks up with her fiance. Nana Dale had left a letter with cryptic instructions to find a cherrywood chest which will have more information. But no one in the family has seen such a chest.

In intermittent flashbacks, we learn of Dale’s life. She had loved horses from her earliest memories. But her father’s business crashed along with the economy during the Depression, and the horses had to be sold. Dale prayed long years that she might find Essie, her beloved filly.

Before the Depression, when her family boarded horses, Dale met a boy named Tommy with a horse named Infinity. The two became friends, even competing as a couple in some events.

The rest of Dale’s story takes us through Tommy’s bout with polio, mounted patrols along the coast during WWII called Sand Pounders, and a daring rescue of a sailor whose ship was torpedoed, which resulted in a major surprise.

In one interview, Elizabeth said part of the story was inspired by her mother’s property in Atlanta. In a series of short videos, Elizabeth takes readers through various areas of the house and grounds that were inspiration for the novel, which was fun to see. She said that there is pressure now, just like in the book, for owners of such properties to sell to developers who want to raze the buildings and put up new cluster houses.

The WWII and Sand Pounders sections of the book are not Elizabeth’s mother’s history. But when she happened upon information about the coastal mounted patrol, she wanted to include them in her book.

Elizabeth says later in her interview that in this book she wanted to “examine the thin line between fighting for what you believe in and developing an unhealthy obsession. Both women learn important lessons about pursuing dreams at all costs, which may cause them to sacrifice something or someone they love.”

I listened to the audiobook read by Susan Bennett. I thought Susan did a great job with the character voices, but the narration seemed too slow. Maybe she thought that was fitting for a Southern accent (the next audiobook I started is also read by Susan, but at a much more normal pace). Also, she had an annoying habit of turning one-syllable words into two syllables, especially at the end of sentences (not to be nitpicky, but after 14+ hours of listening, some things grate). The audiobook didn’t provide any back matter, so I am thankful Elizabeth included information and links to interviews here.

The story itself also seemed a little slow, especially the modern-day part. There’s almost no movement in plot in Allie’s story until near the end.

Nevertheless, overall, this was a good book. One of my favorite quotes, and themes, in the book is “When life gets hard to stand, kneel.”

Another: “Bitterness will rot out your soul. . . You may never get the answer on this side of life to the why. So it’s much better to ask the question, ‘Now that I’m in this place, Lord, what do you want me to do?'”

And “Life ain’t fair. It’s brutal sometimes. . . faith don’t stop the horrible things. But faith helps you walk through those things, whipped and angry and screaming on the inside. Lord don’t mind our screaming and raging. He done shown us how to do it in those psalms of his that King David wrote.”

Elizabeth is one of my favorite authors. Even though I like some of her other books better than this one, I did enjoy this one and can highly recommend it as well.

Family Update

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It’s been an interesting January so far, to say the least.

Within the first few days of the year, our hot water heater suddenly died. No warning, no trouble with it—just suddenly no hot water. Jim tried one quick fix that didn’t work. When he started pricing the purchase and installation of new ones, he ran into quotes from $3,600 to $4,200. Someone told us to go to Home Depot, and they’d install it for free. Not anymore. They referred us to a company that quoted us the $3,600 price.

When Jim remarked to one salesperson on the high price, he was told the water heaters run $1,000 to $1,200, they add a 100% mark-up, and the rest is labor.

So, for those prices, Jim researched how to do it himself. He’s pretty handy, but didn’t like to work with pipes.

Our water heater had to be ordered and was due within a week. But it took several days more to arrive.

Over the Christmas holidays, I had developed a large blister on my left calf. My doctor says I retain water that pools in my lower legs, which, for some reason, makes any little cut or nick more prone to infection from the bacteria that normally dwells on our skin. I get occasional small blisters that come and go. Though I’ve never heard anyone else mention this, my doctor says it’s pretty common. He says if I looked at the legs of people my age and older, I’d see a lot of people with the same problem. The legs I see are usually covered, though. 🙂

Once in a great while, a blister get larger. When that happened once before with a quarter-sized blister, the doctor told me to sterilize a needle, puncture and drain the blister, apply antibiotic cream, and keep it covered.

That all worked fine that time. This time, the blister grew to half-dollar size—partly because we were waiting til some Christmas outings were over before dealing with it.

One day, while pulling off the adhesive tape holding the nonstick pad, the tape pulled off a chunk of skin. Then a day or two later, pulling off the band-aid on that wound, a bigger chunk of skin came off.

So we put antibiotic cream on all the wounds, covered them with non-stick pads, then wrapped everything with gauze and taped it rather than my skin.

But the wounds got infected anyway. I saw the doctor and was given doxycycline (I’m allergic to penicillin and sulfa).

When the skin below them turned red (on a Sunday, of course), I planned to call my doctor the next morning. But by mid-afternoon, the redness wrapped around my ankle. So we decided we’d better go to the ER.

I had no idea the ER would be so busy. We were there five hours. I hadn’t thought about wearing a mask and forgot I had some in my purse. Many of the patients and staff had masks on. I asked one nurse if they were seeing an upsurge of Covid cases. She said yes, along with RSV and flu.

Because the ER was so full, they would call us to a curtained-off area to triage, give antibiotics, or whatever, and then send us back to the waiting room.

I was diagnosed with cellulitis and given IV antibiotics as well as an additional prescription to the one I was already on.

I was supposed to see my doctor again on Tuesday. Monday, I developed cold symptoms. I called to ask if they still wanted me to come in. They said yes, but to wear a mask.

Even though I was there mainly to have the cellulitis checked on, they checked out my upper respiratory symptoms as well. I tested negative for flu and strep but positive for Covid.

So far, I had escaped having Covid since it started. Since I was within two days of symptoms, they recommended antivirals. I couldn’t take the usual (Paxlovid) because it would interfere with one of my heart medications, so they gave me another.

My Covid symptoms were very mild—mainly like a cold, and not even the worst cold I’ve had. I don’t know if that’s due to the antivirals or if it was just a mild case.

However, unfortunately, Jim caught a bad cold as well. He tested negative for Covid at first and then positive a few days later. His symptoms were much worse than mine.

The worst part of all this for me is that all the antibiotics plus the antivirals have affected my digestive system. I should have started taking probiotics right away, but waited until I started having stomach trouble. But neither probtiotics or diarrhea medicine has seemed to have an impact. Jim read that the current strain of Covid is reported to have a greater affect on the bowels than previously noted.

I’ve tried to keep my diet very bland, eating mostly crackers, toast, and various kinds of chicken soup. I’ve lost about thirteen pounds.

On top of everything else, I had a day of atrial fibrillation. Thankfully it didn’t last any longer than that. My heart doctor says just to take an extra dose of the medicine I am on and rest, so I did that.

And this week, we received almost ten inches of snow. That’s unusual for eastern TN. But it’s even more unusual for it to stick around. Normally it melts within a day or so. This week, however, we’ve mostly had single-digit temperatures (even below freezing one night). The snow turned into blocks of ice. The main roads are okay, but neighborhood roads are not. Jim has been out several times (he grew up in northern CA and ID, so he’s used to snow and ice). Jason and Mittu can’t get out because their road is a steep incline.

As it stands now, I’ve finished the antibiotics. The two smallest wounds are almost gone. But the bigger two are still there and looking infected. I’m told to soak my leg in Epsom salts once a day and use antibiotic cream.

I had hoped the bowel issues would subside, but so far they have not. I’m still taking probiotics.

Jim is better but still coughing and a little congested.

Our hot water heater did finally arrive! But with all the snow and ice, Jim decided to wait to work on it. He knew he’d need to get parts at Home Depot at some point and would need to wait til he got into it to see what he needed. He didn’t want to get the water turned off, get right in the middle of everything, and then find out Home Depot was closed because of the roads.

But it finally got in yesterday. I’m thankful for the little camp shower we had, but it’s nothing like a regular shower!

So, all of that to say–January has seemed something like a black hole so far.

I’ve often wondered about God’s purpose in sickness. It seems like such a waste when you’re at limited capacity, sleeping a lot, with little energy, and unproductive. I suppose a lot of that just comes from living in a fallen world. Sickness is a part of living on earth and won’t be done away with until heaven.

Plus another “lesson” is that healing takes time. You can help it along, but you can’t rush it. And healing takes priority, no matter what else we’d like to get done.

Our pastor is preaching through Job on Sunday mornings. Though what we’re going through doesn’t hold a candle to Job’s sufferings, it was encouraging to hear that trials don’t mean that God doesn’t care or that you’ve done something wrong. As far as we know, Job was never told the reason behind all his troubles. God didn’t answer his questions. But He showed Job Himself. And that was enough for him.

I don’t know why God allowed all these things to pile up at once. But we’re trusting His grace day by day and pleading for healing for the infected wounds and digestive system.

Psalm 46:1: God is our refuge and strength.

When I Deny the Calling I Am Trying to Fulfill

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When I Deny the Calling I Am Trying to Fulfill

You’re probably familiar with the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10: a man is traveling, robbed, beaten, and left for dead. First a priest, then a Levite (someone who had temple duties) saw the man, but passed by on the other side of the road. Finally a Samaritan, who was of a race in conflict with Israelites and the unlikely one to stop, took care of the man at his own expense.

Jesus told this story in response to another conversation: a lawyer, knowing that he was supposed to love God supremely and love his neighbor as himself, wanted to know just who his neighbor was. Verse 29 says he asked this “desiring to justify himself.” He probably thought he was doing a pretty good job.

But Jesus’ story upended the lawyer’s assumptions. Our neighbor is anyone in need, even strangers, even enemies. Ultimately, the Good Samaritan pictures Jesus’ rescue of us spiritually.

Even though those are the primary lessons of the parable, I was recently instructed by a secondary consideration.

We like to rag on the priest and the Levite as being typically self-absorbed, “don’t want to get involved” people. We shake our heads at their lack of compassion toward their fellow countryman.

But there is another layer here. Under Levitical law, if a priest or Levite came in touch with a dead body, they would be ceremonially unclean for a certain amount of time. They couldn’t attend to their duties in the temple if they were unclean without performing certain rituals.

So they didn’t even want to take the chance to see if this beaten man was alive. To protect their calling of serving in the temple, they denied their greater calling of caring for a fellow Israelite in great need.

We’ve probably seen this happen in other situations as well. A father feels so responsible to provide for his family’s needs that he becomes a workaholic, neglecting their greater need of his guidance and presence. An overburdened doctor has so many patients that he shortchanges each one of time and attention in order to get through them all. A pastor bypasses a troubled church member seeking his counsel because he’s scheduled to eat lunch with the visiting guest speaker.

I was convicted years ago when I got short-tempered with one of my children when they interrupted me while I was reading a book. Ironically, the book was How to Be a Good Mom.

We can get so fixated on fulfilling what we think is our calling that we miss it entirely.

I struggle with this most now in desiring to write. I feel writing is something God wants me to do. But I’m discovering most writers struggle with making the time to write. I was encouraged in Elisabeth Elliot’s biography that even she struggled with this.

So the natural response is to stake a claim on my time, push people away, and resent interruptions.

But my first calling is to the people under my own roof. It would be wrong to push them away or resent them when they need me.

And if I want to write to encourage other people, particularly women, in their walk with the Lord, I can’t do that by selfishly manipulating my schedule, grasping for time.

So what’s the answer?

I’m still working on that.

But one thing I need to keep in mind is that my first calling is to love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love others as I love myself.

And then I need to remember that God’s callings are not in conflict. They seem like they are sometimes. But if He wants us to do something, He’s going to make a way to do it.

We don’t need to be manipulative and grasping. We can prayerfully seek God’s will and leading. We may have to lay aside lesser pursuits.

Instead of being territorial with my time, I need to be generous, trusting God to make it enough.

There is a principle throughout the Bible that if we’re generous, we’ll be blessed. But if we grasp and hoard for ourselves, we tend to lose whatever we’re holding onto so tightly.

There is one who scatters, and yet increases all the more, And there is one who withholds what is justly due, and yet it results only in poverty. A generous person will be prosperous, And one who gives others plenty of water will himself be given plenty (Proverbs 11:24-25, NASB).

For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it (Matthew 16:25).

Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you (Luke 6:38).

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you (Matthew 6:33).

On the other hand, being generous with our time doesn’t mean we are always available for everyone else’s whims and can never make plans.

Once, after a busy evening of healing many people, Jesus got up early the next morning to pray alone. The disciples searched for him and told Him, “Everyone is looking for you.” “And he said to them, ‘Let us go on to the next towns, that I may preach there also, for that is why I came out'” (Mark 1:35-39). He didn’t go back to do more healing in the place where they were looking for Him. Healing was part of His calling, but His greater mission was to preach.

How we need to pray for wisdom and guidance as we seek to serve Him and others each day. As we seek His grace to love Him and others well, He will guide us moment by moment.

Commit your work to the LORD, and your plans will be established (Proverbs 16:3).

 To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ (2 Thessalonians 1:11-12).

Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established. Proverbs 16:3

(I often link up with some of these bloggers.)

Laudable Linkage

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Laudable Linkage

Here are some of the good reads found this week:

Resolutions. “Jesus does not need your resolutions, your recommitments, or your promises to try harder this year. If your resolve to obey God last year did not help you to be faithful, it will not make you successful this year. Jesus asks for your love.”

Christmas Is Over. Now What Do We Do with Jesus? “Celebrating the birth of that baby with the beautiful story of the stable and the manger is easy. But once the nativity sets are packed away (ok, ALL of my decorations aren’t put away yet), do we still think about Him?”

Leaving Christianity: How an Old Man Helped Save My Faith, HT to Challies. “If He was so good and so kind, why, despite my greatest efforts and consistent faith, was nothing working out?  I was the kid who always kept his nose clean, had his act together, and tried to do the right thing. Why wasn’t I prospering?”

Prayer for My Heart This Election Year, HT to Challies. “Whether we’re interested in political science or not, this year with all of its candidates and craziness, will bring with it a raft of temptations. As I consider the year ahead, I know I need to guard my heart against the enemy’s attacks. Will you join with me in preparing your heart for whatever might happen in the months leading up to November 5?”

A Little Story about Worship. Dan Olinger shares a neat story about a worship experience in the Kenyan bush. It didn’t take place during the singing, but the offering time.

Back to School Prayer Retreat: A Guaranteed Blessing. This is a neat idea and could easily be adapted or simplified.

Chasity as Worship, HT to Challies. “I heard the message loud and clear: girls don’t struggle like boys do. So when I discovered that I had a sex-drive, I felt nothing but shame. I have carried that shame throughout most of my life and still, to this day, have to wrestle it down sometimes and triple-punch it with the truth of the Imago Dei, the God-created goodness of sexuality, and the full forgiveness in Christ for all our sins. But I want more for my daughter.”

The Bible

Friday’s Fave Five

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Well, friends, it has been a rough week.

I mentioned last week that our hot water heater had died. We’re still without a hot water heater.

I mentioned having a couple of infected sores on one leg. Sunday morning, the area under the sores was red for a few inches. I kept an eye on it, planning to call my doctor in the morning. But by mid-afternoon, the redness had wrapped around my lower leg. So we went to the ER, where I was diagnosed with cellulitis, given an IV antibiotic, and sent home with a prescription antibiotic to take in addition to the one I was on.

We were in the ER five hours, mostly in the waiting room. They were so full, they’d call me back to take a blood sample or whatever and then send me back out to the waiting room. I noticed a lot of both patients and staff wearing masks. I asked one nurse if they were seeing an upsurge in Covid. She said yes, that and flu and RSV.

I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask for a mask or remember I had some at the bottom of my purse.

Monday morning, I started having a sore throat and runny nose.

Tuesday afternoon, I had a follow-up visit with my primary care doctor, where I was diagnosed with Covid.

The triple antibiotics are negatively affecting my digestive system, to put it lightly. (I’m taking probiotics. Yogurt actually makes it worse.)

Then Jim developed a bad cold, but thankfully tested negative for Covid.

So . . . not the best of weeks. And I’ve had my share of whiny moments. But I’m thankful for this regular exercise Susanne hosts at Living to Tell the Story, where we take time to look for five blessings in the week. Sometimes they are harder to find; sometimes it seems like the bad outweighs the good. But they are always there. And it helps to remember that good is happening and to be thankful for it.

1. My son and daughter-in-law brought over three meals for us.

2. Friends have texted or messaged me to see how I am doing and assured me of their prayers.

3. Medicine. One of our former pastors used to say God can work with medicine, without medicine, or in spite of medicine. 🙂 I’m praying He would do just that. I look at medicines as His tools. Even though I am appalled at having to take so much, I am thankful we have them.

4. Sunshine. Most of this week, the sky has looked almost as dark as the photo at the top. I don’t mind rainy days so much, as we need them. But when the dark clouds just hang around for days, I wish they’d go ahead and rain and get it over with. Thursday has been a mostly sunny day, and that makes such a difference in one’s mood and outlook.

5. Carb substitutes. We’re both trying to watch our carbs and sugar these days. We already used rice cauliflower in place of rice sometimes, and “zoodles” made of zucchini for spaghetti noodles (better fresh that frozen). Mittu made a dish over the holidays that used gnocchi made from cauliflower rather than potatoes. It was really good, so I asked if they could grab a bag of it the next time they went to Trader Joe’s. They got that as well as noodles made of kohlrabi.

We’d sure appreciate your prayers for healing.

Have a good weekend!

Review: I Can Only Imagine

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I Can Only Imagine

Even if you don’t listen to contemporary Christian music, you’ve probably heard the song “I Can Only Imagine,” a crossover hit by Bart Millard and Mercy Me.

The inspiration for the song came from a comment Bart’s grandmother made after Bart’s father’s funeral: “Bart, I can only imagine what Bub must be seeing now.”

Bart’s relationship with his father had been rocky, to say the least. He described his dad as a monster who either beat him severely, or checked out completely, saying he didn’t care what Bart did.

But, miraculously, Bart’s father became a Christian. Bart had a front row seat to the dramatic changes in his father’s life as he cared for him during final decline with pancreatic cancer.

I had seen the film of Bart’s life by the same title as the song and was deeply touched. He said the original taping was six hours of material, so four of those had to be cut for the final product. He decided to write a memoir, also titled I Can Only Imagine, to tell the more complete story.

The first part of the book tells about Bart’s family, his sports career coming to an end with an injury, his interest in music, and the last years of his father’s life. The rest of the book tells about forming a band and the events leading to and following the release of the song “I Can Only Imagine.” Through some amazing twists and turns, that song launched the band’s career.

Bart said he was tempted to leave the story there with the fairy tale ending. But he went on to talk about his experiences with depression, his young son’s diabetes, his unhealthy lifestyle, his mistaken spiritual beliefs that he had to somehow earn God’s blessings by doing all the right things. As a Christian, he knew he was saved only by God’s grace. But like so many of us, we forget living for Christ is is just as much by His grace.

A few quotes from the book:

Thank the Lord for the prayers and provision of grandmas! I’m not sure what would have happened to Stephen and me without those two sweet saints being the constants in our lives (p. 10, Kindle version).

I once heard a pastor say that when it comes to the sins of our fathers, we either repeat or repent (p. 55).

Isn’t it interesting how some life-changing devastations are actually like the crossover switches on train tracks that take you in a totally new direction, often forcing you onto the path you were supposed to be on all along? God had certainly brought a divine interruption into my life, taking me out of sports and putting me into choir (pp. 61-62).

The moment I realized all of my creativity and talent was simply an overflow of a healthy relationship with Christ, everything changed (p. 172).

While I am here on earth, I am both a work in progress and already made whole because of the cross. I am a child of the risen King who will wrestle with the flesh. I’ll win some and lose some, but it can never change how Christ sees me because the cross was enough! (p. 172).

I’m thankful Bart wrote this book and that I read it. It was just as touching and inspiring as the movie.

Review: Beneath a Golden Veil

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Beneath a Golden Veil by Melanie Dobson

In Beneath a Golden Veil by Melanie Dobson, Alden Payne is a Harvard law student whose father owns a tobacco plantation in 1853 Virginia. Alden’s father expects him to help with and take over the plantation after he finishes school. Alden approaches Christmas break planning to tell his father that he cannot acquiesce to his father’s plans. He braces himself to face his father’s wrath.

At Harvard, “Both students and professors liked to rant about freedom for all men—and pontificate about the evil Southern planters—but in Alden’s opinion, none of them were willing to sacrifice a thing—especially not their cigars—to help free the slaves” (pp. 13-14, Kindle version). Alden doesn’t know what else he can do against such a strong institution, but at least he doesn’t have to be a part of it.

Arriving at home, he finds his father is livid over a runaway slave, a young man with whom Alden played when they were boys. Witnessing his father’s cruelty toward the young man only reinforces Alden’s decision. But now he feels compelled to do more: to help the young man escape. His best bet is to get the young man to Sacramento, where he can then find a way for him to go to Vancouver.

In Sacramento City, Isabelle Labrie owns one of the nicer hotels. She and her aunt had bought part ownership with Ross Kirtland. But Isabelle’s aunt died, and Ross sold his share to go to the gold fields. They plan to marry and run the hotel together when Ross returns. Meanwhile, Isabelle keeps her past a guarded secret, even from Ross. If anyone found out now, she would be ruined, perhaps even in danger.

When a scared young slave runs into her establishment one day, Isabelle and her porter, a freedman, hide him and get him to safety. This starts Isabelle on a mission to look for other slaves she can help. California is a free state, but allows for travelers to bring their slaves to help in the gold fields. The laws concerning slaves are a little murky on finer points.

When Alden’s and Isabelle’s paths cross in Sacramento, they don’t trust each other at first. It’s dangerous even in free California to come out as an abolitionist. Alden has had the young man act as his slave during their travels so they wouldn’t be questioned. But Isabelle thinks he’s an actual slaveholder.

Soon they get on the same page. however. But accomplishing their goals is going to be more dangerous than they thought.

Thankfully, the Kindle version and audiobook came on sale at the same time for a couple of dollars each, so I could go back and forth between them. The narrator did an okay job except for using the same irritating annoyed tone for any bad person, male or female. I’d recommend the print or Kindle version of this one.

Though I’ve read historical fiction about slavery, I haven’t often come across stories from the gold rush era. Melanie’s notes at the end reveal Isabelle’s character is based on a real-life one.

Inhumanity is always hard to read about. But it’s inspiring to read about brave souls who help others at risk to themselves.

There were many layers to this story, especially in Isabelle’s situation. Overall, it was a very good read.

When You Don’t Like Change

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When you don't like change

Several years ago, our church’s youth pastor felt led to leave his position at our church to begin another ministry. Then an older couple in the church led the teen ministry for several months—maybe a year or more.

When the church finally found a new youth pastor, but before he came, some of the teens were giving grateful testimony of the couple who had filled in. One girl spoke about how much she hated change.

I thought, “Oh, honey. You’re just starting out, and there is so much change ahead of you!” She would have been in for a rough time.

Some people thrive on change and variety, always looking for something new and exciting.

Others of us don’t mind changes every now and then. But we’re eager to get back to our comfortable routines.

Change is a part of life. Without change, we wouldn’t have:

  • autumn leaves
  • spring flowers
  • butterflies
  • babies
  • growth
  • sunrises and sunsets
  • the change from law to grace
  • salvation
  • resurrection
  • the progression from friendship to love
  • . . .and so much more

We like those kinds of changes. We’re not thrilled about hard, unexpected disruptive changes.

So many people in the Bible had to face unexpected changes in their lives.

  • David went from a shepherd to a king.
  • Moses went from Pharaoh’s stepson to a shepherd to the leader of Israel from Egypt through the promised land.
  • Gideon was quietly trying to make do in a country under rule of an enemy when God called him to be a leader and fight.
  • Daniel was a young man when he was taken into captivity, away from family and country, and taken to Babylon.
  • Mary thought she’d have a quiet life with Joseph, until an angel announced she would carry and bear the Messiah.
  • Zachariah and Elizabeth probably thought their opportunity to have children was gone. But in their old age, an angel told Zachariah that he and Elizabeth would have John the Baptist.
  • Paul’s Damascus Road experience had profound effects not only for himself, but also the first-century church and Bible readers today.

Change can be hard. Most of the changes these people faced were great upheavals to their lives.

But if God brings change, He also brings grace to handle it.

And some things will never change:

  • God’s character
  • God’s love
  • God’s Word
  • God’s truth

About thirteen years ago, we faced several big changes all at once. My husband’s company was moving us to a new state, which would involve new coworkers, a new city, new house, new neighborhood, and new church. My oldest moved to a different state, the first of my kids to move far away. We left behind my middle son and daughter-in-law. My youngest son came with us and had to navigate a new school, friends, and youth group.

During that time, a line from the hymn “Be Still My Soul” stood out to me: “Through every change, He faithful will remain.” That was a steadying truth through all the changes of that year.

Not too long ago, a line from “Abide With Me” came to mind: “Change and decay in all around I see. O thou who changest not, abide with me.”

The first verse of “Still, My Soul, Be Still” by the Gettys and Stuart Townend brings comfort in the face of change:

Still, my soul be still,And do not fearThough winds of change may rage tomorrow.God is at your side;No longer dreadThe fires of unexpected sorrow.
 
God, You are my God,And I will trust in You and not be shaken.Lord of peace, renewA steadfast spirit within meTo rest in You alone.
 
Recently I was reminded of a quote attributed to Helen Keller: “A bend in the road is not the end of the road . . .unless you fail to make the turn.”
 
God, by His grace, will be with us and help us make whatever turns are in the year ahead.
 
How about you? Have you gone through a time when God helped you make a major change?
 
God does not change. James 1:17

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