Amazed by Grace by Sheri Dew

This little book, only 70+ pages long, was an invitation to consider the meaning of Grace and how to embrace it and extend it. Sheri Dew is an accessible writer even though she has considerable intellectual gifts. Her fresh interpretations of principles, along with her personal stories, always uplift and inform me. She encourages me to be more devoted to the principles I know to be true, and to live them more completely. Ramona gave me this book, and I've read it twice. There were fresh insights the second time through, although that might be more a function of my age and attention!

Persuasion by Jane Austen

This wonderful book felt vaguely familiar. I thought I was reading it for the first time, but maybe not!? I must have read it before, because I anticipated many of the events. Still, it was an enjoyable, idyllic read.

Reading this one, though short, was more effort than I remember in most of my Austen reading. Her long sentences and word choices gave me frequent pause. It's not a fast and easy read; it's a challenging read. Like all of Austen's work, though, it's well worth the effort!

The overlooked and undervalued sister who unselfishly serves without thought of reward is an admirable character. That the love of her youth would remain steady over eight years was a heartening example of devotion! I think I love Austen because she loves what I love: nobleness of character, loyalty, and integrity.

Quiet

This is a fabulous book! I can't wait to get it back after book club! I lent it to someone and now it's gone...

Lakota Woman by Mary Crow Dog and Richard Erdoes

My friend Darci gave me this book because she knows I often work on the reservations here in South Dakota. I have found the Lakota people to be fascinating and inspiring. I have found their challenges to be incredibly difficult and hope I can be a support in improving educational opportunities for children on the reservation. I like to expand my understanding of our state's history and this book gave me a perspective I hadn't read before.

Mary Crow Dog chronicles her life in the early 1970's. She describes what it was like to be involved in the American Indian Movement, the siege of Wounded Knee, and the occupation of the Bureau of Indian Affairs in Washington, D.C. I related to much of what she describes, because at that point in time I was involved with anti-war (Viet Nam) protests in the Bay Area. The sense of purpose, the ignorance, the sociality, and the idealism were all things to which I could relate.

I was alternately impressed and disappointed as she described her relationship with leader Leonard Crow Dog. They were adventurous and brave and often foolish. It was especially disheartening to read about Crow Dog's spiritual life. Mary took great pains to describe how serious and relevant Lakota ceremonies are, and yet often described how certain aspects were disregarded when it was inconvenient. It's hard to take someone or someone's practice seriously when they themselves didn't honor it. It feels more like an adventure than a sacrifice...although there was much hardship and sacrifice involved.

In some ways this view of history is very superficial and describes actions and hardships but lacks any analysis or deep understanding of what brought the actions about. It's an interesting ride, and a perspective I hadn't read before, but sadly lacking in generating empathy for the movement and the struggle.

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand

When I get together with my Laramie friend Leslie, I always ask her what she's reading. About a year ago, she told me about this book, and said it was one of the best books she had ever read. Her husband Don chimed in and agreed with her. Since these two are so different, it surprised me that they both thought the same book was so good.

While vacationing in Robson Ranch in Eloy, Arizona, I happened to find a copy of this book in their free lending library. It was a hefty book with small print, but I still recalled Don and Leslie's high recommendation, so I took it on. I'm so glad I did. It's worth the time and worth the pain...the pain because the descriptions of torture in the P.O.W. camps are hard to take. This book was interesting to read on a very comfortable and leisurely vacation; the contrast to my life was stark! And it made me intensely grateful for every morsel of food I was enjoying!

I was amazed by the detailed descriptions...I know that Louis Zamerini had years of time to reflect and remember things, but still it amazes me to read the details of conversations, situations, feelings, engine noises, etc. Incredible! These details really bring the story to life. This World War II pilot had amazing experiences before he became a Japanese P.O.W., and that story is compelling as well. He was quite the out-of-control youth, and it's interesting to read how that energy and dysfunction turns out to serve him well (mostly) in the camp.

I marveled the most at his 41 days in a little life raft before the Japanese caught him. How he fought off sharks with the oars, how he ate an albatross and used its bones to fish with, how inadequate the supplies were, and how the drive to live created so much ingenuity.

This story gave me lots of insight and questions about World War II. As I read, I kept thinking about my dad, who also served in that war. I was anxious to ask him about it...and he read this book too. But the only thing he really had to say about it was that he wondered how truthful all of the stories in the book were...I had the sense that he thought this was a lot of bragging. Interesting reaction! My dad is great about describing how things work mechanically, and tells stories of people, but doesn't focus much on feelings or impressions. I told him that this author had attempted to verify everything she wrote with at least two corroborating witnesses, which had to be a monumental task! The list of her notes and citations is incredible!

I loved her description of finally meeting Louie face to face. Because she was suffering from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, she spent seven years researching and writing this book. She worked from home. Her interviews were conducted by telephone. So when she finally met him, after the book was published, it was heartening to read about their meeting. She also felt very gratified when she was able to make connections with people and things by doing her research that Louie didn't know. That must have been a great and satisfying work. I know the joy doing small things for my dad brings me, so I can happily imagine how satisfying this work was for this author. 

It also reminded me about the strength of the tried human spirit. I love to read these stories of triumph in very difficult situations. Louie's ultimate conversion to Christianity was fascinating to read, especially since he was converted by Billie Graham in a tent revival kind of situation. He was able to look back and see God's hand in his life and realize his forgotten promise to serve Him. It was a wonderful conversion story that made the book complete. Without that conversion, Louie's life in post-war American society would have been a tragedy. 

More to Your Story by W. Craig and Jan J. Zwick

Bonnie gave me this book for Christmas in 2015, telling me it's a book that she really loves and thought I would enjoy also. She was so right!

The Zwick's are wonderful church leaders with many experiences that they share in vignettes that include their reflections on the meaning of their experiences. It's a great model for journaling the miracles that are happening in our lives every day. It's an invitation to be reflective on how God's hand is ever guiding our lives.

A couple of the stories are so powerful and instructive that I read them to Leonard. They involved Elder Zwick's experiences as a young missionary in Argentina under the direction of his mission president, Elder Richard G. Scott. Elder Zwick's experiences in rural, rough country, and negotiating lumber purchases and transportation of it to the site to build a chapel are incredible!  Also, reading about the challenges he and Elder Scott faced as they traversed borders and unknown (and known!) dangers are wonderful examples of following the promptings of the Holy Spirit. These chapters were the highlight of the book for me, though there are many more that are worthy and simpler examples of lives well-lived and well-examined!

The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom with John and Elizabeth Sherrill

I have heard this author and this book quoted many, many times. I knew it was set in World War II Holland and Germany and dealt with forgiveness, but that was about it. I first read The Diary of Anne Frank as a girl, and so I've had a long interest in the Jews and their hiding and extermination.

This story begins with Corrie describing her warm and wonderful early family life in a Dutch town. Her description of her aunts, siblings, and especially her mother and father paint a rich and inspiring picture of family love, faith, and devotion. When Corrie is disappointed in a love relationship, she writes:

How long I lay on my bed sobbing for the one love of my life I do not know. Later, I heard Father's footsteps coming up the stairs. For a moment I was a little girl again waiting for him to tuck the blankets tight. But this was a hurt that no blanket could shut out, and suddenly I was afraid of what Father would say. Afraid he would say, "There'll be someone else soon," and that forever afterward this untruth would lie between us. For in some deep part of me I knew already that there would not--soon or ever--be anyone else. 

The sweet cigar-smell came into the room with Father. And of course he did say the false, idle words. 

"Corrie," he began instead, "do you know what hurts so very much? It's love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain.

"There are two things we can do when this happens, We can kill the love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or, Corrie, we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel.

"God loves Karel--even more than you do--and if you ask Him, He will give you His love for this man, a love nothing can prevent, nothing destroy. Whenever we cannot love in the old, human way, Corrie, God can give us the perfect way."

I did not know, as I listened to Father's footsteps winding back down the stairs, that he had given me more than the key to this hard moment. I did not know that he had put into my hands the secret that would open far darker rooms than this--places where there was not, on a human level, anything to love at all.

I was still in kindergarten in these matters of love. My task just then was to give up my feeling for Karel without giving up the joy and wonder that had grown with it. And so, that very hour, lying there on my bed, I whispered the enormous prayer:

"Lord, I give to You the way I feel about Karel, my thoughts about our future--oh, You know! Everything! Give me Your way of seeing Karel instead. Help me to love him that way. That much. And even as I said the words I fell asleep. 

It will take me some time and thought and prayer to truly understand what she is saying here. I begin to grasp it and it slips away from me...but it's a star to reach for. Other parts, near the end of the story are equally moving and build on this divine love theme...

(Page 194 forwards)
It grew harder and harder. Even within these four walls there was too much misery, too much seemingly pointless suffering. Every day something else failed to make sense, something grew too heavy. "Will You carry this too, Lord Jesus?"

But as the rest of the world grew stranger, one thing became increasingly clear. And that was the reason the two of us were here. Why others should suffer we were not shown. As for us, from morning until lights-out, whenever we were not in ranks for roll call, our Bible was the center of an ever-widening circle of help and hope. Like waifs clustered around a blazing fire, we gathered about it, holding out our hearts to its warmth and light. The blacker the night around us grew, the brighter and truer and more beautiful burned the word of God. "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?...Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerers through him that loved us."

I would look about us as Betsie read, watching the light leap from face to face. More than conquerers.... It was not a wish. It was a fact. We knew it, we experienced it minute by minute--poor, hated, hungry. We are more than conquerors. Not "we shall be." We are! Life in Ravensbruck took place on two separate levels, mutually impossible. One, the observable, external life, grew every day more horrible. The other, the life we lived with God, grew daily better, truth upon truth, glory upon glory.

Sometimes I would slip the Bible from its little sack with hands that shook, so mysterious had it become to me. It was new; it had just been written. I marveled sometimes that the ink was dry. I had believed the Bible always, but reading it now had nothing to do with belief. It was simply a description of the way thigs were--of hell and heaven, of how men act and how God acts. I had read a thousand times the story of Jesus' arrest--how soldiers had slapped Him, laughed at Him, flogged Him. Now such happenings had faces and voices. 

And from page 201:

Back at the barracks we formed yet another line--would there never be an end to columns and waits?--to receive our ladle of turnip soup in the center room. Then, as quickly as we could for the press of people, Betsie and I made our way to the rear of the dormitory room where we held our worship "service." Around our own platform area there was not enough light to read the Bible, but back here a small light bulb cast a wan yellow circle on the wall, and here an even larger group of women gathered. 

They were services like no others, these times in Barracks 28. A single meeting night might include a recital of the Magnificat in Latin by a group of Roman Catholics a whispered hymn by some Lutherans, and a sotto-voce chant by Eastern Orthodox women. With each moment the crowd around us would swell, packing the nearby platforms, hanging over the edges, until the high structures groaned and swayed.

At last either Betsie or I would open the Bible Because only the Hollanders could understand the Dutch text we would translate aloud in German. And then we would hear the life-giving words passed back along the aisles in French, Polish, Russian, Czech, back into Dutch. They were little previews of heaven, these evenings beneath the lightbulb. I would think of Haarlem, each substantial church set behind its wrought-iron fence and its barrier of doctrine. And I would know again that in darkness God's truth shines most clear. 

As I ponder the beauty of these descriptions, I can't help but feel guilty for how little I value my scriptures sometimes! Sometimes I take them for granted, sometimes I don't bother to ask the Holy Spirit how they apply to me...sometimes my eyes just graze over the words! This book helped me understand how valuable and life-giving scripture can be to one's very survival. I wouldn't say my life was easy, but compared to this life in a concentration camp, it certainly is! I know I rely more heavily on the Lord in times of trouble; my challenge is to rely on Him at all times... to always be meek and lowly and to remember Him.

This morning I'm watching the snow lightly fall in the Canyon as I sit at my desk in complete warmth and comfort. May I always value this lovely scene and gift from God. May I never take my creature comforts for granted or as something I deserve!!!  This week I had the gift of saying goodbye to Midge Greathouse. Her daughter called Mary shortly after her death, so when we arrived, her hands and head were still warm. As we softly talked and recalled our sweet experiences with her, she grew cooler. It was so apparent that her spirit was long gone. I loved how the nurse told us that she felt there were angels attending and welcoming Midge into the Spirit world as she departed. This nurse had had many experiences like this, and told how she felt Midge was surrounded by great love and many, many welcoming spirits. Midge was meek and lowly, devoted to her family, and to the Church. Her scriptures are falling apart with notes, highlighting, and sticky notes. This is a woman who was true to her word in her deeds... It's pretty humbling to remember all that I have been blessed with, and yet, haven't perhaps shown my gratitude as I should. Midge's life was hard...and maybe our comforts are no gift!? I'm grateful for this morning's reflection time and feel grateful to move out into this snowy day with a grateful heart.