Book Review: Beyond Suffering: Discovering the Message of Job

Layton Talbert was one of our Sunday School teachers at the church we attended the first fourteen years we were married, back before he earned his PhD. In the years since our class with him, I’ve very much enjoyed his articles in Frontline magazine, where he currently serves as a contributing editor. I particularly like his regular “At a Glance” column where he usually gives an overview of a book of the Bible (his column on Ecclesiastes particularly opened that book up for me). Next to one of our former pastors, Dr. Mark Minnick, there is no one whose exegesis and teaching I trust more (though no one is infallible, of course). So when our current pastor began preaching through the book of Job and recommended Dr. Talbert’s book, Beyond Suffering: Discovering the Message of Job, I didn’t need much convincing to get it. In addition, I know personally many of the people he mentions in the book. I trust, however, that even though this prior knowledge inclined me positively toward the book even before I got it, it didn’t cloud my perspective.

Dr. Talbert has attempted (successfully, I think) to write the book on two levels: the main text is easily readable for most any layperson, but the end notes are helpful for more experienced theologians (and for others who want to delve into them.) Though probably no one loves end notes, I can understand that having those notes scattered throughout the book as footnotes would make the text look cluttered and daunting to some.

Dr. Talbert begins by acknowledging that the book of Job is both long and difficult, especially the discourses between Job and his friends, but he reminds us “the Holy Spirit does not waste space” (p. 9) and even these discourses are valuable to us. He offers several helpful suggestions for reading Job, explores the theme of the book (suggesting that suffering is the catalyst rather than the main theme), and plunges right into commentary, not verse by verse, but section by section.

I spent a few hours this week compiling a list of the quotes I marked as well as pages numbers of sections that were particularly instructive to me but were too long to quote, both as a way of review and a way to have some of them handy. I ended up with five pages. I can’t share all of that here, but I’ll try to share some of the most poignant.

Satan’s accusation that Job is “pious only for pay” undermines God as well as Job because if it is so, that means God is content with that arrangement (p. 40).

Suffering can cause us to question either God’s omnipotence or His love: either He wasn’t able to stop the suffering or He was able but allowed it because He’s not completely good. “Since both options are expressly unbiblical, we are faced with a choice: (1) Ignore what the Bible says about God and reevaluate Him on the basis of our limited experience, knowledge, and understanding or (2) accept God’s self-description and reevaluate our circumstances in the light of the Bible’s depiction of realty.” P. 57).

“It is not merely the affliction itself that Job finds so hard to bear; it is the sudden and inexplicable change in God’s posture toward him that the circumstances seem to signal (p. 85).

“Expressions of grief may not fit some people’s sanitized ideas of what a Christian ‘ought’ to think and feel. But when catastrophe strikes like lightning, ripping ragged holes in the lives of previously serene saints, God has preserved a record of the grief of godly saints for our consolation. Anger is not unbelief and questions are not sinful; they are human and shared by some of the best of God’s people” (p. 90).

You may have wondered, as I have, if Job “sinned not” in his initial reaction to his suffering at the end of chapter one, yet repents in chapter 42:1-6, what happened in between that he had to repent of? Part of the answer is this: “If Job justifies himself at the expense of God’s righteousness (as God says he did – Job 40:8), then he has virtually, if unintentionally, made himself more righteous than God….Whenever we think that God is being unfair, or that we would never do some of the things God does, we make ourselves more righteous than God” (p. 98).

On the difficulty of 19:25-27: “We must be content to enter the passage with no prejudgment as to what we will bring out of it. That’s the only way to insure that we derive our theology out of the text (exegesis) rather than read our theology into a text (eisegesis)” (p. 121). (Yes! If only all Bible teachers and preachers would get this. bh)

“[God] censures Job for defending his own righteousness over against and at the expense of God’s righteousness (40:8)” (p. 159).

“For Job to be browbeaten into ‘confessing’ uncommitted sin with the assurance that his fortunes will be restored is to trifle with his soul, to confuse his conscience, and to redirect everyone’s attention to materialism as the motivation and demonstration of one’s spiritual condition” (p. 130).

“The three friends argue that Job’s suffering is consistent with God’s justice because [Job] has (obviously) sinned. Job argues that his suffering is contrary to God’s justice because he has not sinned. Elihu offers a revolutionary third perspective: suffering is not necessarily linked to God’s justice at all. God’s justice remains intact, therefore, and may not be impugned (34:12). The issue is man’s justice in responding to inexplicable suffering sent or allowed by a just God. That suffering may not be explicitly ‘deserved’ does not render the suffering itself unjust, nor does it imply that God is unjust for permitting it” (p. 170).

“Job is not rebuked for asking why. He is rebuked for an honest question that has soured into a complaint laced with insinuation. God reprimands Job for sins of speech and attitude subsequent to his sufferings – speech and attitudes that reflect wrongly on the character of God” (p. 202).

If you’ve ever wondered, as I have, what God’s discussion of animals has to do with Job’s suffering, a part of the answer is: “By belaboring this point with Job, God unveils one of His divine qualities. The Lord is powerful and majestic and wise beyond man’s comprehension, but He is also compassionate…even towards beasts. He talks as if He has intimate knowledge of their nature and needs because He does. That’s the point” (p. 206).

“We may not always see the signs of God’s goodness in our immediate circumstances, but what we see is not all there is. That is a significant part of God’s answer to Job” (p. 206).

“The furnace of affliction may be transformed into a holy of holies, a sanctuary filled with the presence of the God Whose path is in the storm” (p. 235).

“Believe Him implicitly, with or without proof, because He has spoken. Trust Him submissively, with or without understanding, because He is sovereign and good. Worship Him reverently, with or without reward, because He is worthy… Wait for Him patiently, with or without reprieve, because He will come.” (p. 241).

“God’s revelation furnishes ample evidence to justify faith but also ample opportunity to exercise faith” (p. 256).

I was also happy to see Job vindicated from something I heard a preacher say years ago, that Job’s confession in 3:25 that “the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me” indicated that he had a “life-dominating sin” of fearfulness. But God repeatedly says that Job is “a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil” (1:8; 2:3) and that his trials came upon him “without cause” (2:3).

There are also insightful discussions on the purposes for suffering, possible reasons why God didn’t tell Job what was behind his suffering, a section on helping the hurting (an excerpt from that is here), and even an appendix on leviathan, for those who might want more information about what that creature mentioned by God might have been.

This is an immensely helpful book, both for those who have wrestled with suffering and those who have wrestled with their study of the book of Job. Those of you who read here regularly know that it is rare that I can recommend a book completely without reservation: this is one I can.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Reviews: Two Mysteries

I read two mysteries this past summer but have not discussed them before now because they were gifts for my “secret sister” at church, and naturally I needed to keep them secret til after I let her know who I was. 🙂 She likes mysteries, so I checked out a couple to pass on to her.

A Penny For Your Thoughts by Mindy Starns Clark is the first in her Million Dollar Mystery series. Callie Webber had previously been an investigator but opted later to use her skills to check out charities her elusive but wealthy and well-connected boss wanted to contribute to. When her newest client, a friend of her boss, is murdered, her boss asks her to investigate the death as a personal favor. As Callie uncovers family and business secrets, soon her own life is in danger. I stewed a bit over not liking the murderer’s reasoning until I realized that, duh, any murderer is going to be a little warped in his or her thinking. I liked this book a lot, and though I don’t gravitate to mysteries generally, I am tempted to read others in this series mainly because I think I know who Callie’s boss might be (she knows his name but has never met him) and I want to see if I am right. 🙂


A Penny For Your Thoughts
is Christian fiction; The Map In the Attic by Jolyn Sharp is not, but it is a very clean story. Annie Dawson is cleaning out her grandmother’s attic (I don’t know if the similarity in name is purposeful between Annie of Grey Gables and Anne of Green Gables, but the similarity is only in name) when she finds an old piece of needlework stuffed in a cookie jar in a box marked for a yard sale. She shows the piece to her fellow Hook and Needle Club members, and someone realizes it is not abstract art but a detailed map. The ladies then want to know, of course, a map of what. Evidently someone else knows or wants to know, too, because someone tries to steal the map — more than once.

Overall it was a pretty interesting book. It ended rather abruptly, suggesting it is leading to another book in the series. After a bit of research I discovered this book (which I had received in a book swap) is evidently part of a series in a book club, which I have no desire to join, but some of the books are available used in places like Amazon.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: The Shape of Mercy

I read Susan Meissner’s Lady in Waiting last year and subsequently wanted to read more of her books. So I recently picked up The Shape of Mercy which was published in 2008, and I remembered several bloggers mentioning it and liking it, so I decided to give it a try.

In The Shape of Mercy, Lauren Durough comes from a family of wealth and privilege, but wants to forge her own path, her own destiny. She defies tradition by going to a different college than expected and living in the dorms, and she takes a further step by looking for a job to take care of living expenses rather than depend on her father’s stipend. That leads her to an eighty-three year old well-to-do retired librarian, Abigail, who is looking for someone to transcribe a diary that was written by one of her ancestors, named Mercy, who had been arrested and convicted during the Salem witch trials.

Lauren learns that misjudgment and jumping to conclusions did not die in 1692, but she is especially startled to learn the extent those elements rule her own heart.

Overall I thought this was a marvelous, multi-layered book. Susan brilliantly wove together the diary entries with the contemporary story, and I was drawn in to Lauren’s growth and realizations about herself as well as her curiosity about Abigail’s life. There were times when I didn’t want to put the book down, times I was almost in tears for different characters.

This would be one of those five-star, two thumbs up reviews except for just a couple of things.

Major Spoiler Alert:

It doesn’t bother me so much that one character commits suicide — I think such a thing is always a tragedy, but I can accept it as part of the plot because such does happen in the real world. What does bother me, though, is that is is regarded by the other characters as something heroic, sacrificial, and done out of love when biblically it is never regarded that way. “Thou shalt not kill” certainly applies to one’s own life as well as others. There is a difference between taking a bullet for someone and aiming that bullet at yourself. Suicide is the ultimate taking of your own life into your own hands and the ultimate lack of faith in God to handle one’s life circumstances as He sees fit. There were Bible people who wanted to die, but they left the actual process to the Lord. I don’t want to turn this into a treatise on suicide, but felt I must explain why the response in this book disturbed me.

Secondly, at one point the author refers to “that bit of the divine still smoldering in us.” If she means that we’re made in God’s image and some of that can still be seen even though we’re marred by the fall of man and our own personal sin, I can agree with that. If she means some spark of divinity resides in every human being, I can’t agree with that.

But other than those two elements, I really enjoyed the book and I do plan on reading more of Meissner.

Something neat I just found earlier today is a blog where Meissner continued the stories of some of the characters as blog posts here. I poked around just a bit today and I am looking forward to reading a bit more.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: Peace Like a River

I had seen many bloggers refer to Peace Like a River by Leif Enger years ago, and I put the title on my TBR list, but only got to it the last couple of weeks: my family wanted ideas for my birthday, and I scanned my list of TBR titles and suggested this one and a couple of others.

The story is told by eleven-year-old Reuben Land, who almost didn’t survive his birth as a severely asthmatic child but was brought back after twelve minutes without breathing by his father calmly saying, “Reuben Land, in the name of the living God I am telling you to breathe.”

Thus begins a series of miracles at the hands of Reuben’s father. After many of them Reuben says, “Make of that what you will.” Honestly, I don’t know what to make of that, and that may be why I hadn’t sought out this title earlier, but figuring out the author’s theology of such isn’t really necessary to enjoying the story. Reuben narrates the book as a witness: “Someone to declare, Here’s what I saw. Here’s how it went. Make of it what you will.”

In Reuben’s eleventh year, his brother Davy kills two bullies, somewhat but not entirely in self-defense, and escapes jail when he seems sure to be convicted (not much of a serious spoiler there as the back of the book refers to Reuben’s “outlaw older brother who has been controversially charged with murder.”) There follows a strange dichotomy of heart for some of the characters and for me as a reader as well: you find yourself hoping Davy is okay, yet knowing that he has to face justice, and grieving that he seems to have no regrets or repentance. After a time Reuben, his nine-year-old sister Swede, and their father go after Davy to try to find him, only to discover after a time that the FBI is following them. Throughout it all the character of each unfolds through the events, especially that of Reuben’s father.

Leif Enger is a wonderful storyteller. The book feels as if you’re sitting across from him in rockers on the front porch, listening to him tell a story. One reviewer’s blurb on the back of the book says “his novel moves in a current that can be poetic and slow or as tumultuous as whitewater rapids,” an apt description. He’s no mean poet as well, as through Swede he shares segments of an epic Western poem (though it didn’t seem like this could come from the hand of a nine-year-old girl, precocious as she was). I also liked that the chapter titles were significant: this was the first book in a long time in which I paid attention to the titles and at the end of each chapter looked back and thought about the title designations. And at the end of the book, when I turned it over and looked again at the front cover, I realized with a start who the shadowy horseback rider was, and nearly came to tears.

Some of Enger’s phrases stood out to me as well: a description of a particular women who “resembled an opportunity missed by Rembrandt”: “Fair is whatever God wants to do”; a reference to something people say “as if they’ve been educated from greeting cards.”

There were humorous parts as well: in one incident when Reuben and another girl end up in the church kitchen during a long service and start to make pancakes, the smell floats up to the sanctuary, influencing one man to “prophesy” about heavenly smells at the Lord’s banquet table.

I probably should say for some readers that though there is a description of a charismatic service, I am not charismatic and not promoting that kind of thing, but I am not going to dissect all of that. One doesn’t have to agree with every little point in a book to benefit from it.

I did enjoy the book and it had me pondering for a while afterward. In a search earlier today I came across this interview which shed more light both on the author and the book. I am definitely planning to put his next one, So Brave, Young, and Handsome on my TBR list.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: Goforth of China

Goforth of China by Rosalind Goforth is a book I have read many times, and I recently felt an urge to revisit it. It has taken me a while to talk about it, though, because I have so many places marked in it, it would be impossible to share all of them.

Jonathan Goforth grew up as the seventh of eleven children on a farm in Canada. Though an excellent farmer, he felt the call of God to go to China as a missionary after hearing someone speak on Taiwan. Jonathan’s mother was an excellent seamstress, but Jonathan was marked for teasing by his more urban classmates at college due to having home-made clothes and being somewhat naive and unpretentious. His fellow dorm mates went so far as to take new fabric he had bought to have new clothes made, cut a hole in it, put it over Jonathan’s head, and made him run up and down a hallway through a number of other laughing students. He felt afterward that this kind of behavior should be reported, but was told by the college authorities that it was just a harmless prank. It hurt him, not so much that this had been done to him, but that it had happened at a Christian college. Rosalind writes, “That night he knelt with Bible before him and struggled through the greatest humiliation and the first great disappointment of his life. The dreams he had been indulging in but a few days before had vanished, and before him, for a time at least, lay a lone road. Henceforth he was to break an independent trail. It is not hard to see God’s hand in this, forcing him out as it did into an independence of action which so characterized his whole after life” (pp. 31-32). By the time he graduated, he had the honor and support of the whole school, and many came to apologize for their actions that year. One particular student prayer meeting at a much-needed time helped make a definite change in his ability to use the Chinese language (told here).

College not only honed his intellect and forged his character, but it also was saw the beginnings of ministry as he reached out in various ways to lost people. He was a missionary long before he left the shores of his home country. He met his wife, Rosalind, as a fellow mission worker. Once when Jonathan left his Bible on a chair, Rosalind picked up his Bible. Finding markings throughout and the book itself falling apart, she thought to herself, “That is the man I would like to marry” (p. 49).

The Goforths headed to China at a time when the Chinese were greatly suspicious of “foreign devils.” Some of the stories circulated about the foreigners (such as the one that their medicine was so effective because it had the eyes and hearts of children in it, leading the people to fear the foreigners would kidnap their children) seem so ridiculous to read now and to think that anyone actually believed them, but suspicion was a great hindrance to their efforts to reach the Chinese. In an effort to counteract this, they held frequent tours of their home to let the Chinese see whatever they wanted to see (and sometimes the Chinese saw whatever they wanted to see by touching a dampened fingertip to the paper windows, making a peephole!) The result of one such incident I shared earlier near the end of this post.

The Goforths not only had to deal with everyday frustrations, but also major, heartbreaking trials. Four times in their ministry they lost nearly all their possessions, once by fire, once by flood, once during the Boxer rebellion (a harrowing time with a miraculous deliverance in itself), and lastly while on furlough when a new inexperienced missionary moved some of their belongings into an unlocked “leaking, thatched cowshed” (p. 211). After the last time, “when, in the privacy of their own room, the ‘weaker vessel’ broke down and wept bitter, rebellious tears, Goforth sought to comfort her by saying, ‘My dear, after all, they’re only things and the Word says, ‘Take joyfully the spoiling of your goods!’ Cheer up, we’ll get along somehow.'” He wasn’t being calloused: he had a generally faith-filled, buoyant spirit, while his wife had…one rather more like my own. The worst loss of all, though, that even shook Goforth himself was the loss of several children.

Despite and sometimes even through the trials they endured, God used them to bring many to Himself. Describing one of their evangelistic meetings, Rosalind said, “Oh, friends, who wrote in those days pitying us, would that you could have experienced, as we did day by day,…the keenest joy a human being can I believe experience, [seeing] men and women transformed by the message of God’s love in Christ” (p. 168).

Besides Goforth’s spirit mentioned above, one of his other major characteristics was his firmness of doctrine. Modernism was creeping into the church and eventually into its seminaries and missions, undermining its foundation, and Goforth saw firsthand the devastation it could wield on a person’s faith. He wasn’t afraid to speak out where he saw wrong, even if it wasn’t well-received and even (especially) when it infiltrated the church.

It was during such a time on furlough when some were even closing their pulpits to him that this was written, blessing my women’s-ministry-loving  heart: “Many times as he went throughout the churches he remarked on the blessed and powerful influence of the Women’s Missionary Society. When inclined to be depressed at the general deadness of the church, cheer and comfort would often come from the warmth of receptions given by the women” (p. 340).

God greatly used the Goforths not only in various countries in their own time, but ever since then as well through Rosalind’s writings. A few years ago Lifeline Ministries reproduced the original unabridged version of Goforth of China, and I was so glad to get it. Some years back Bethany House produced an abridged version titled Jonathan Goforth (which sadly doesn’t appear to be in print any more, but used copies can be found, or perhaps you can find it in a church or Christian school library). I’m afraid I’ve misrepresented that version in the past by complaining that the point of view switched from third to first person, but as I reread the original version, I saw Mrs. Goforth did that herself: overall she acted as narrator telling their story, but in some parts she slipped into the first person as she described particular incidents, especially those involving herself directly. It’s not as hard to follow, though, in the original: maybe some of the transitions didn’t make it to the abridged version. In many ways the abridged version is easier to read: the unabridged lists a great many names and places that wouldn’t mean as much to people not living at the time of the writing. My particular copy of the reproduction of the original has what appears to be some ink level problems: on some pages the print is very light, but on others it is very heavy, almost bleeding through the page. Hopefully they fixed that in subsequent printings.

Mrs. Goforth also wrote Miracles Lives of China (which I haven’t read), How I Know God Answers Prayer, and Climbing, one of my all-time favorite books. Jonathan wrote By My Spirit, telling of the revivals God sent to China. Another book which I haven’t read but which I think is geared toward children is Jonathan Goforth: An Open Door in China by Geoff and Janet Benge, part of the Christian Heroes: Then & Now series.

In an earlier post about why I love missionary biographies, I said, “There are heroes of our spiritual heritage who inspire us in love and dedication to God and to greater faith in remembering that the God they served and loved and Who provided for and used them is the very same God we love and serve today and Who will provide for us and use us.” The Goforths are such heroes, though they might balk at such a designation. Reading about them not only inspires faith but encourages us to follow in their footsteps of dedication. I hope you’ll read more about them.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: Masquerade

I’m not sure sure how I ended up reading two novels about the Gilded Age back to back, She Walks In Beauty by Sir Mitchell (linked to my review) and now Masquerade by Nancy Moser, but I think doing so enhanced my understanding of that era. They contained similar contrasts of the rich vs. the poor, the plight of  immigrants and the excesses of the rich, as well as descriptions of the lavish clothing and stringent societal rules.

In Masquerade, Lottie Gleason is a spoiled, self-centered headstrong nineteen year old in England being shipped off to marry a rich American to save the family, which is in trouble due to her father’s indiscretions, both financial and moral (though the American family, the Tremaines, don’t know the situation.) When her mother’s plans to accompany her fall through due to illness, Lottie’s maid, Dora, is sent in her stead as more of a companion than maid.

On the ship to America, Lottie hatches the plan that they should switch places. Lottie does not want to marry a man she has never met, she wants freedom and adventure, and Dora could use the financial situation to help her mother. It takes some persuading for Dora to agree, but eventually she does.

Thus we have a Prince and the Pauper situation. Dora finds out that high society has its pleasures, but its has problems as well, and Lottie’s bout with freedom leads quickly to frustration and danger as she encounters people and situations she never dreamed of, but she also finds kindness in unexpected places.

The historical setting has been well-researched and well-written, and I enjoyed that part of the novel, but the tale of the two girls…irritated, I think, would be the right word. It’s believable that someone of Lottie’s personality might dream of such an idea, but it seemed implausible to me that Dora would go along with it and that neither of them would think through the consequences (though thinking things through was not one of Lottie’s strong points, either). For instance, they were themselves on the ship, interacting with other passengers (and Dora almost falling in love with one): did they think they would never seen any of them again once in New York under different identities? And did they think they’d never see their families again, or did they figure by that time the die would be cast and it would be too late for their parents to interfere?

I finally had to just concede the point and move on. But there were minor points that chafed as well: I don’t think we were ever told how the Gleason and Tremaine families made contact in the first place and then got to the point of arranging a marriage for their children. The arrangement makes sense in Lottie’s family’s situation but not Conrad Tremaine’s, the intended beau. Were there no single rich young women in New York, necessitating the family having to make arrangements sight unseen with the family of a girl from England? When one of Dora’s handkerchiefs with her real initials on it is discovered by someone else, we’re not told how it came into her hands for her to have it at just the right moment. Lottie develops a conscience and more of a heart of compassion, but her bent toward being headstrong and impulsive doesn’t change. Dora seems to care for someone back home, someone she met on the ship, and Conrad interchangeably for a long while until she finally makes a choice. The one character whose growth and story arc I most liked ends up kind of left in the dust, but I won’t say who so as not to spoil the story. In the high society church, the author writes, “The organ played a song to remind everyone that God had arrived” (p. 210). Seriously, does anyone think that? That sentence did not make sense to me at all. An occasional phrase here and there seemed anachronistic.

I do, however, like the way the theme of masquerading for various reasons played out not just among the two main characters but several others as well. When someone dropped their mask or pretension and showed their true selves, it was usually a positive.

I had picked this up because I really enjoyed Nancy’s How Do I Love Thee? about Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, but I didn’t care for this one as much. Even still, it’s not a bad book altogether. The characters do grow and learn valuable lessons along the way and do learn to see and submit to the hand of God. Looking at the reviews at Amazon and Christianbook.com, some felt as I did but others really liked it. “You don’t have to take my word for it,” as Levar Burton used to say. And I don’t think this will keep me from trying another of Moser’s books.

On a side note, nearly every time I saw this title around the house, my mind played the Masquerade song from Phantom of the Opera. 🙂

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

What’s On Your Nightstand: August

What's On Your NightstandThe folks at 5 Minutes For Books host What’s On Your Nightstand? the fourth Tuesday of each month in which we can share about the books we have been reading and/or plan to read. You can learn more about it by clicking the link or the button.

These months in which the fourth Tuesday is not the last Tuesday catch me unawares! But here is what I’ve finished since last time:

The Way into Narnia: A Reader’s Guide by Peter Schakel, reviewed here. Excellent. I had checked this out of the library but then bought my own copy before I turned it back in so I could transfer my sticky tabs.

A Heart Most Worthy by Siri Mitchell, reviewed here, about three very different Italian immigrant girls making their way in 1918 Boston. My first book by this author, and I immediately bought another.

She Walks in Beauty by Siri Mitchell, reviewed here, about a young debutante during the American Gilded Age who finds society life is not all it’s reputed to be.

Blue Skies Tomorrow, the third of Sarah Sundin‘s Wings of Glory series about three brothers during WWII, reviewed here. Loved this series.

Learning by Karen Kingsbury, the continuing story of Bailey Flanigan as she struggles facing life on her own, not reviewed.

A Big Little Life by Dean Koontz, a memoir (and a little philosophizing) about his dog, Trixie, not reviewed. I’ve never read any of Mr. Koontz’s books before, and, honestly, I bought this because I was looking for books for my mother-in-law to read, it was in the bargain section, and she likes dogs. I liked his humor and pathos, but unfortunately it doesn’t look like his other books are in genres that I’d like.

I’m currently reading:

Masquerade by Nancy Moser.

Beyond Suffering: Discovering the Message of Job by Layton Talbert.

Gospel Meditations For Men by Chris Anderson and Joe Tyrpak, with my son.

Next up…decisions, decisions…probably:

Coffee Shop Conversations: Making the Most of Spiritual Small Talk by Dale and Jonalyn Fincher, recommended by Lisa.

Peace Like a River by Leif Enger. It seemed like everyone was reading and talking about this a while back and I am just now getting to it.

The Shape of Mercy by Susan Meissner.

Worldliness: Resisting the Seduction of a Fallen World edited by C. J. Mahaney. I’ve had this on my literal nightstand for weeks and want to get to it. Worldliness is one of those difficult concepts: as Christians we know the Bible warns us away from it, but everyone has a different idea of exactly what it is.

Boyhood and Beyond: Practical Wisdom for Becoming a Man by Bob Schultz. I’m thinking about going through this with Jesse.

That should keep me busy for a while! What are you reading?

Book Review: She Walks In Beauty

In She Walks in Beauty by Siri Mitchell, debutante Clara Carter finds that society life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be in New York City circa 1891. Even the snow was grimy from passing through smoke and soot, making the carriage drives to a ball not “as sparkly and festive as they always seemed to be in novels” (p. 135).

But Clara isn’t given much choice. The De Vries heir is back in town, and it has been determined that Clara must catch him in order to save the family’s honor. With the determination of a drill sergeant and the zeal of Mrs Bennet, Clara’s aunt does her best to train Clara for her debut, while Clara would rather be studying or reading Byron. Both her natural good humor and budding social conscience are quashed with propriety, To complicate matters, Clara’s best friend, Lizzie, is debuting at the same time with the same goal.

At first She Walks In Beauty seems like a light-hearted romp as Clara learns the “rules” and foibles of “the game,” but it takes a more serious and darker turn as Clara discovers that even her father is not the man she thought he was, and the falseness and temptations of the life her family is pushing her toward weigh on her conscience. When someone tells her God knows her and loves her as she really is, she doesn’t know whether to believe it at first: no one seems to love anyone just as they are. But a glimmer of that kind of love is reflected in one man, drawing her heart yet highlighting the conflict between duty and reality.

I empathized with the conflict Clara experienced as her eyes were opened more and more. I loved where she ended up on her journey. And I loved that in both books I’ve read by Siri, the dresses on the cover have significant roles in the book!

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: Blue Skies Tomorrow

Blue Skies Tomorrow is the third of Sarah Sundin‘s Wings of Glory series about three brothers during WWII, and Sarah has managed to hit it out of the ball park once again. A Distant Melody, the first in the series, was one of my top ten favorite books of 2010 and its sequel, A Memory Between Us, is one of my favorites of 2011 so far.

Each book focuses on one Novak brother: in this book, Ray is the peacemaker of the family, and his aversion to having to kill someone has kept him Stateside as a flight instructor. But he wrestles with whether he wants to avoid combat for those reasons or cowardice. A series of events lead him to the desire to prove himself in actual combat.

Helen Carlisle is a war widow actively involved in several volunteer projects with her church and the war effort. Though she puts up a brave front, a dreadful secret she tries to keep hidden threatens to undo her and her blossoming interest in Ray.

The main characters here as in the previous novels are realistically flawed yet sympathetic and very likeable. I was conflicted between wanting to rush to finish the book and see what happened and wanting to slow down and make it last longer so the story wouldn’t be over so quickly. I’ve so enjoyed getting to know the Novaks and I’m a little sad to see the series end!

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

Book Review: A Heart Most Worthy

I saw glowing reviews and recommendations of A Heart Most Worthy by Siri Mitchell on several blogs a few months ago. I picked up the book a couple of times, and the back cover said in part, “In 1918 Boston, three seamstresses dare to dream of a better life.” That didn’t really grab me. But, so many people whose tastes are similar to my own liked it, and…that gorgeous dress on the cover would tempt me to serious coveting if I lived in those times. So I finally decided to give the book a try.

Siri has crafted quite an intriguing historical novel set in the Italian section of Boston during a time of heavy migration of Italians from their country to America (which Siri says rightly in an end note has largely been forgotten — I had never heard of the Great Italian Emigration).  WWI and later the Spanish Influenza epidemic figure heavily into the plot, as do Italian family life, prejudice, poverty, and political unrest. And of course love.

Three very different girls poor Italian girls, Julietta, Annamaria, and Luciana, work in Madame Fortier’s dress shop. Julietta wants to meld into American life, move up in the world, and have fun. Annamaria as the oldest daughter is destined by custom to care for her family, postponing or perhaps never having her own chance at love. Luciana just wants to survive, to provide for and protect herself and her grandmother and not attract too much attention so that the man who killed her father does not find them.

There were teary moments as well as at least one time when I almost gasped out loud (at realizing who someone was), times of feeling sad for, frustrated with, and happy for each of the characters.

Since the Italian population was primarily Catholic, naturally the church and spiritual influences in the book come from that vantage point. Since I am not Catholic myself, I would quibble with just a couple of things that were said in that vein, but the book did convey that forgiveness, grace, and help are available from God to those who turn to Him.

One feature that threw me a bit sometimes is that though most of the book is written from an omniscient or third-person point of view, every now and then the narrator breaks through and speaks to the reader directly. It jarred a bit because it was almost like someone speaking to you whom you’d forgotten was there. But the comments themselves were fun and a bit conspiratorial.

Overall I greatly enjoyed the book, and I just bought another Siri Mitchell book to try.

(This review will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)