2014? Really? Doesn’t that seem really . . . late? Like when
my son turned 13 and still seemed like a little boy but then turned 14, which
sounded so much older?
Let’s stick with 2013 for a bit longer. This was the year I
got a Kindle—it was a gift—but I still find myself buying books or checking them
out from the library and hauling them around in a worn and heavy tote bag. Old
habits die hard, and I’m not sure there’s merit in killing this one at all.
While I might be able to enjoy a novel on the Kindle, for deep, contemplative
reading, I need real pages and a real highlighter. For now, the Kindle is
reserved for Downton Abbey and mahjong.
A review of
the books I hauled around, and read, in 2013:
Favorites
The Cure: What If God Isn't Who You Think He Is and Neither Are You? by Bill Thrall, Bruce NcNicol, and John Lynch. I will return to this short book again and again for pithy truth that
reminds me of the God who is rather than the God my shame creates. Can He
really be as pleased with me as this books insists? Is my view of myself really
the greatest commentary on my view of God? So much to think about here that I
could only read a couple pages at a time. Some people don’t like Lynch’s style,
but he had me from hello, and I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t need a little
something of what he’s teaching in this book.
Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption by Laura Hillenbrand. The movie will be great, but read
the book first. My fascination with the “greatest generation” continues, and
this book caused me to read newspaper obituaries for months. I knew this would
be a tough one to read, but I had no idea it would also be one of the greatest
redemption stories I’ve ever read.
Love Does by Bob Goff. I’ve never read anything
like this before, and it left me wondering, “Is this guy for real?” He is, and
I’ve got to believe that if God picked favorites, Bob would be right up there. His
unbelievable stories challenged me to think less and live more.
Continued Pursuit of All Things Lewis
Just when I
think I’ve landed on my Lewis favorite, I read The Weight of Glory, reread Mere
Christianity, and decide it’s fruitless to choose among them. Lenten Lands, written by Lewis’s stepson
Douglas Gresham, was a behind-the-scenes look at the man who I’ve come to
appreciate so much. I’m halfway through Alister McGrath’s new biography, C. S. Lewis—A Life: Eccentric Genius, Reluctant Prophet. It has a text-book feel, but I’m eager to pick it up each night and gobble
up more.
Christian Non-Fiction
A Year of Biblical
Womanhood: How a Liberated
Woman Found Herself Sitting on Her Roof, Covering Her Head, and Calling Her
Husband "Master" by Rachel Held Evans. Evans
is a rising star in the blogging world, and she is a captivating writer. I
follow her blog occasionally and find flashes of brilliance, though her
repetitive messages and ubiquitous apologies on behalf of the church get old.
Still, she’s thought-provoking, controversial, and someone to watch.
Follow Me by David
Platt. I was gripped by the first chapter, then just felt in a headlock the
rest of the way. Platt’s earlier book, Radical,
didn’t affect me this way. It put wind in my sails. This one sucked the wind
right out. I couldn’t even finish the last 20 pages. Love his heart, love his
style, but someone who struggles with finding identity and purpose in doing
rather than being (me) should avoid these kinds of books and stick to The Cure.
Undaunted: Daring to
Do what God Calls You to Do by Christine Caine. A good follow up to Platt’s
book, which left me feeling guilty and unproductive. Caine uses stories from
her life to demonstrate what it means to be in tune and responsive to the
Spirit. Am I interruptable? Am I willing to cross the road? The priest and
Levite in the Good Samaritan story were not described as bad guys; they were
just too busy to be interrupted by God and cross the road. Caine has crossed
the road with victims of the sex traffic industry, and she didn’t start until she
was a 40-year-old mother of two with a slew of her own issues to work through.
There’s hope for us all.
Secrets in the Dark: A
Life in Sermons by Frederick Buechner. These short essays offer good
insight with excellent writing. Describing the appalling nature of Christ’s
humble birth, Buechner says, “Those who believe in God can never in a way be
sure of him again. Once they have seen him in a stable, they can never be sure
where he will appear or to what lengths he will go or to what ludicrous depths
of self-humiliation he will descend in his wild pursuit of mankind. . . . It is
where we least expect him that he comes most fully.”
Pseudo-Christian
Non-fiction
Proof of Heaven: A
Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife by Eben
Alexander. When I started this
book, I couldn’t figure out why Christians weren’t talking or writing about it.
It seemed like Heaven’s for Real for
the intellectual sect. The doctor writes about the scientific perspective of
the soul—basically that we don’t have one—and it was interesting to see what it
took for him to believe the things that are second nature to me. But a Jesus-less
heaven? I’m not buying it, and apparently other Christians aren’t either.
Fiction
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Reminded of
this classic because of the movie, I read it again, knowing it will pop up one
of these days on my kids’ required reading list. The writing is every bit as
good as I remember (this is the book that made my teenage self want to be a
writer), but the story is meaningless and sad. Why do we have our 17-year-olds
read this? To learn about unfaithfulness and wild parties and stunted morality?
Surely they can learn that from teen culture and not “great literature.”
Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. With vivid characters and a riveting plot, this one
should have been great. And really, I could barely put it down. But if you’re
looking for the feel-good book of the year, this isn’t it.
Before I Go to Sleep
by SJ Watson. I’m normally not a reader of thrillers, which became clear when
this book took a major twist that I didn’t see coming. The edge of my seat is
not my favorite place to read a book, but every once in a while, it can be
kinda fun.
Friendship Bread
by Darien Gee. This one was recommended to me as a book I would love. Love is a
strong word. I’m not sure “like” is even the right word. But as light,
unoffensive reading goes, this was decent.
Oh-Dear-I’m-Going-to-a-Country-I-Know-Nothing-About
Reading
I wish I could list
several great Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky classics here, but as I’ve only known
about my trip to Russia for seven weeks, all I’ve crammed in is A Brief History of Russia by Michael
Kort. And I confess, it was in the teen-book section of the library. Still, I
learned all I wanted to know about czars and serfs and communists and lots of assassinations. Every time I
opened the book it felt like I was crawling into a sad, dark cloud. If my aim
was to grow in compassion for the pain and struggle of the Russian people, it
worked.
If you have any book recommendations
for 2014, send them my way!
