You really should read it.

xoxo,
edie

At least four people told me about it.   “You HAVE to read this book.  You’ll love it.  It’s about growing up in Appalachia.”

So when Ms. Cindy told me that the author Amy Greene was signing books at the fall festival, I felt guilty that I hadn’t read it yet.

But I went to meet her because I knew.  I just knew.

I apologized profusely that hadn’t read the book yet.   She was warm and kind and easy, like talking to my sister.  I was instantly drawn to her.   I loved the book already without reading one page.

I devoured it in two days and a long night.   It got under my skin, Avett Brothers style.   The characters wouldn’t leave me alone.   I wrote Amy an email declaring my love for her work.   She graciously agreed to come to my bookclub.

***********

Fast forward three months.  A lot has changed for me.   My life will never be the same.
It was two weeks ago when it dawned on me that Amy was scheduled to come to our bookclub on January 21st.
I had been looking forward to it so much but I wasn’t sure I was ready. Could it get through it without crying? Could I moderate the discussion at all?
Maybe we should postpone.

But I knew her paperback was coming out and she’d be busy with book signings and tours so I decided to ‘keep calm and carry on.”  I’m so glad I did.

*************

My bookclub friends have been so generous and loving to me during this trauma. They’ve done every kind thing you can think of and more. It was so good to see them all. And then my sister reminded me that it was the one month anniversary of the fire. My dear neighbor Ms. Jan, who has been like a second mother to me during this mess, had graciously offered to host us at her house so it was kind of like ‘going back home’ for me, difficult but therapeutic.  I’ve had a hard time finding my words lately so I’ll sum up my thoughts about spending the day with Amy in an email I sent to her yesterday.

“I don’t even know what to say. I’m so blessed by you, by your heart, your sharing. It was our one month anniversary of the fire and so to be with you, back home, near it all, was kind of overwhelming. Johnny was so right, the healing comes with remembering, with going back. It will go down as one of my all time special days. I will remember it with the tragedy, which is so fitting, really. I know my friends loved you so. I don’t think any of them, save one, are from here but they have embraced us and our quirky ways and have learned to love our life here by the mountains. I’m so proud of them too, for learning to love us. I looked at the pictures and it’s funny, you and I both have the same blue eyes, almost exactly the same color. The color of healing and joy. I’m so proud of you for giving so much of yourself. For learning to live vulnerable, to give freely, to be willing to be hurt. You are so easy to love, like a sister——right there among us —-but teaching us to live our calling, to follow our dreams.
It was magical and enchanting, just like Bloodroot. You have a very special gift Ms. Amy and I am so blessed to know you.”

I can’t thank Amy enough for the gift of her presence and if you haven’t read her book, by all means, get that baby soon. It’s now available in paperback at Target!

********
My gifted poet friend Patty wrote a beautiful piece about our day together and a big thank you to my dear friend Sue, who loved the book, read it three times, and had wonderful questions ready!

I have the best friends ever.

I’m including Amy when I say that.  I love what she said to me,  ”Some people are just meant to know each other.  And I think we are. ”

Amen.

“The human spirit will not even begin to surrender self-will as long as all seems to be well with it. Now error and sin both have this property, that the deeper they are, the less their victim suspects their existence; they are masked evil. Pain is unmasked , unmistakable evil, every man knows that something is wrong when he is being hurt…..And the pain is not only recognizable evil, but evil impossible to ignore. We rest contentedly in our sins and stupidities…..and can even ignore our pleasures, but pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.

I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of pain threatens serious disease, or a tragedy that threatens us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world, and my only real treasure is Christ.

And perhaps by God’s grace, I succeed, and for a day or two become a creature consciously dependent on God and drawing its strength from the right sources.

But the moment the threat is withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys; I am even anxious, God forgive me, to banish from my mind the only thing that supported me under the threat because it is now associated with the misery of those few days. Thus the terrible necessity of tribulation is only too clear. God has had me but for forty-eight hours and then only by dint of taking everything else away from me. Let Him but sheathe that sword for a moment and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over—I shake myself as dry as I can and race off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest flower bed.

And that is why tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless. ”

Thank you to my dear friend The Nester who made this video. It’s a perfect recap of 2010 and a most wonderful gift of love to our family.
I wanted *to go back there*—to look at my house, but found it hard to do so.
It’s as if she gently took me by the hand and led me through it so that I didn’t have to make the journey alone.
This is where the healing starts.
Love you all and Happy New Year.

*comments closed

If I were stranded alone on a deserted island and could only take the bare necessities with me, I’d take my espresso maker and my books.

I know what you’re thinking.

I’m gonna wish I had my toothbrush and my laptop. Okay, I’ll take those too.

If there’s one thing that I don’t like about hotel rooms or traveling in general, it’s that I don’t have all my books with me.

Maybe I’m inordinately attached to books.

But they’re so a part of who I am that I want them near.

I re-read parts of my favorite books all the time. Some of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes play like a melody in my head at the most serendipitous times.

If there’s anything that I hope to leave as a legacy to my children, it would be a love for reading good books.

It was recently pointed out to me by a facebook friend that I seem to only read male writers.      So, I promptly surveyed my nightstand and various bookshelves and it’s true. I seem to be quite partial to the boys.   But in my defense, I like theology and classics and historical fiction, a large percentage of which are written by men.     I do have a few favorite female authors that I truly respect, like Geraldine Brooks, Louisa May Alcott and JK Rowling. As a matter of fact, J.K. Rowling may be singlehandedly responsible for giving me back my childhood by teaching me to love fantasy.
(side note: we are huge Harry Potter fans and are going to see The Deathly Hallows tomorrow, on opening day at 12:30. And before you send me hate mail, please read this post and listen to these podcasts—very eye opening about the disservice done to Rowling by the christian community)

Enter Amy Greene.

Amy is the author of this year’s new bestseller Bloodroot. She was also recently awarded Tennessee’s Writer of the Year award AND named as one of Amazon’s debut fiction writers this year. I was fortunate enough to meet Amy a few weeks ago at our local fall festival at a book signing. Several of my friends had told me that I HAD to read her book, that I’d love it—but when I met Amy, I had yet to read it so I bought a signed book and read it within a few days. For a little backstory, it’s a book about growing up in Appalachia, with plenty of ‘dark and twisty’ truth thrown in. There’s so much I wanna say about the book but I’ll do it by way of an email I sent Amy, who has since graciously agreed to come to my bookclub in January!!! (she lives ten minutes from me, btw)

I’ve been devouring your book just as fast as my little ones will let me steal away. I woke up at 4a this morning and couldn’t wait to get back to the story.
It happens to me every now and then with a book or some music—–that soul-stirring that makes you squirm a little and lays bear your own vulnerabilities in a way that can’t be conjured up…….Your writing has had a similar effect on me as when I first listened to the Avett Brothers’ music. It has forever changed me and how I see the world. It validates my years of pain. It speaks healing and acceptance to the darkness that lingers near. I won’t be the same.
So thank you for truth, which leads us all closer to home.
Your newest adoring fan,
Edie

At bookclub tomorrow, I get to tell my friends that Amy Greene, in the flesh, is coming to my house for book discussion.  How cool is that?  Maybe we’ll even skype some of you in to join us too.

You should definitely read the book and  bear in mind that for many folks, life has had it’s share of the  dark and twisty.

And that brings me to my final point.   At  bookclub tomorrow, during this, our poetry semester, we’re bringing lyrics to two of our favorite songs for discussion.  I am a fiend for song lyrics.     I knew right away that for one of my songs, I’d bring ‘Head Full of Doubt-Road Full of Promise’ by the Avett Brothers.   I’ll even take the liberty to say, since it’s only my opinion anyways, that this song is a lyrical interpretation of Bloodroot.  And perhaps in some ways,  my own little life for that matter.

So, I’d be EVER so interested to know some of your thoughts on this song, its’ lyrics, its’ meaning.

Or else tell me your favorite song (lyrics) and why.   Just so ya know, if you pick Justin Bieber or Lil’ Wayne, and you’re not under 15, we may have to renegotiate the rules of our friendship.  Amen.

It would probably be fair to say that many of the artists’ I have mentioned have been criticized for the ‘darkness’ they portray.  But those of us who’ve wrestled with real darkness in our hearts and in our past, can say with all boldness that the darkness cannot be faced unless it is acknowledged and brought to light.   I’m proud of those who have helped us to ‘see it’.

What do Amy Greene and The Avett Brothers and JK Rowling, for that matter, have in common?  They are gifted artists who speak truth in powerful ways.

And truth leads us all closer to home.

There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what’s wrong and what’s right
And it comes in black and it comes in white
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it

When nothing is owed or deserved or expected
And your life doesn’t change by the man that’s elected
If you’re loved by someone, you’re never rejected
Decide what to be and go be it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There’s a darkness upon you that’s flooded in light
And in the fine print they tell you what’s wrong and what’s right
And it flies by day and it flies by night
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I’ll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what’s wrong and what’s right
There’s a darkness upon me that’s flooded in light
And I’m frightened by those that don’t see it

P.S.  I’m in the process of setting up an affiliates program with Amazon of things I like.  I’ve added Bloodroot so far. If you click to buy the book here, Amazon will send me 3 cents. Or so.

So here’s where we are:   lots of finishing work to do, countertops to be installed next week along with sink, dishwasher and hood.

I decided to go with subway tile so this is truly gonna be an all white kitchen.  I can hardly wait.  Actually, I’m not really waiting.  I’m using this kitchen almost to its’ fullest already.   I’m probably a pain to work with but let’s go:  snap, snap.   Get it done already!

and I FINALLY decided on knobs. Knobs can drive a girl insane. There are so many choices.  I’ve looked at hundreds and hundreds of knobs.  I finally settled on this 1 1/4 inch antique brass knob from The Lion’s Head.   They are simple and clean and classic and exactly the color I was looking for.   And my installer is happy that they are knobs and not pulls.

This whole process has been worse and at the same time not as bad as I thought it’d be.   My new frig came and didn’t work but they finally got it fixed.

My hood came with a huge dent in it and had to be reordered from California.   My pantry cabinet came with no shelves.   All my plumbing and electrical have had to be redone.  In short, my sanity is hanging on a wet spaghetti noodle.    But I realize it’s all just a brief inconvenience and soon I’ll having a wonderfully functional, beautiful kitchen.    In the meantime, the workers will just have to put up with my homeade jelly-making, onion-sauteing self until this is all done.  I hope it makes ‘em hurry.

In non-kitchen news, the girls and I are putting together a 500 piece puzzle on the rainy days and I’m re-reading G.K Chesterton’s Orthodoxy.   I like to call him my favorite catholic (but really my favorite catholics are my wonderful catholic friends like Sue and Kim and Donia—who is coming to visit soon, btw!).   He was an English writer and christian apologist in the early 1900′s and is often referenced by C.S. Lewis.   He was a brilliant man which explains why I only understand about half the book my second (or third?) time through.  But oh, is it worth a read.   Just be patient and plow through it and you won’t be disappointed.   Above mention catholic friends, who saw me reading Chesterton at swim practice, promptly made fun of my ‘summer reading’.     Sorry, I don’t do chick lit and I will continue to have the night stand of a 40 year old seminarian!

Chesterton has a beautiful and refreshing way of seeing the world.    And it has been just what the dr ordered during this trying remodel.   He speaks of rationalists, who  point to the mere repetition of things in the world as a sign of deadness;  ie, the sun rising, the tides crashing, the monotony of life–day in, day out.    He says,

The recurrences of the universe rose to the maddening rhythm of an incantation, and I began to see the idea….It might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising.   His routine might be due, not to lifelessness, but to a rush of life.   A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence of life.   Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged.   They always say,  ”Do it again.”   For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.  But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony.  It’s possible that God says every morning,  ”Do it again” to the sun; and every evening,  ”Do it again”  to the moon.    It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike, it may be that God makes every daisy seperately, because He has never got tired of making them.  It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy;  for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.  The repetition in nature may not be a mere recurrence;  it may be the theatrical ENCORE of heaven.

See, you should read it.    Hope your weekend is filled with good books and plenty of good food and smooches!

{photo of my favorite accessory and flea market find :  the bust of David}

This year, in lieu of my traditional list of New Year’s resolutions, I decided to do a ’40 in 40′; forty things I wanted to do in my fortieth year of life. But because I couldn’t quite figure out photoshop and because 40 is the new 30, the list only has 30 things on it.

And really, does anyone need the undue pressure of 40 resolutions?   I have enough guilt as it is.

On my list was the somewhat daunting task of reading the Bible through in 3 months. I first heard chatter of it on Twitter and then downloaded the reading schedule here. I purposely haven’t written about it yet because honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was feasible for me. I have seldom been able to keep my ‘read the bible through in a year’ promises—much less three months.

But I’m pleasantly surprised to tell you that I think it’s been one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever done. I’m on day 27 {I started January 1} and I just finished ‘the Samuels’ a few days ago! It takes about an hour a day and I usually try to do it in the wee morning hours before the troops wake up. I’ve had to play catch up a little on the weekends but I’ve pretty much stuck to the schedule. It is a completely different and fascinating way to read the Old Testament and I highly recommend it. You’re able to get a broad sweeping overview of the history of the Jewish people that is just not possible if you read it on a slower pace. I don’t think this is the last time I’ll do it this way and I pray I have the discipline to finish on schedule. You definitely should add it to your bucket list.

Having just finished II Samuel, I can’t get King David off my mind. Many of you know that he is my favorite bible character aside from Christ of course. I love his story; I find hope in the fact that God uses such deeply flawed people through which to bring us our very redemption. David’s sin with Bathsheeba, clearly an act of outright rebellion against God, brought forth the wise King Solomon and would eventually lead to the birth of Christ.

I’m also re-reading Francine Rivers fiction book Unspoken on the life of Bathsheeba and all this led me to play and replay one of my all-time favorite songs Hallelujah, written by Leonard Cohen and performed by a host of amazing artists including Jeff Buckley and my very own favorite artist Brandi Carlile. The song is about the life of David but more deeply is a song about suffering, love, repentance, doubt and longing.

Our true hallelujah cry to God is often ‘cold and broken’

and the transformation that He is seeking to forge in us is painful.

So I’m a teeny bit bossy today, but I think you should  1) ponder the three month reading schedule  2)   read Unspoken and 3)  download Hallelujah from iTunes. This video is Brandi’s Carlile’s interpretation of the song—which she says was one of the songs that ‘found her’ and transformed her. {Caiti and I have secured our tickets to see her in concert in February, thus checking off another thing from the list.} I also included the lyrics below the video.

Well I heard there was a secret chord
that David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do ya?
Well it goes like this :
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah…

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
And she tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah…

(Yeah but) Baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor, (You know)
I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
and love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah…

Well there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah

Hallelujah…

[Instrumental]

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelu…
Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelu…
Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah

Post-Edit:  I use the new Lutheran Study Bible which was just released last October.  I can’t say enough wonderful things about it.  It is by far the best study Bible I’ve ever owned.  It’s chocked full of great stuff;  prayers, maps, devotional material, greek and hebrew words and references, and much more.   It’s an English Standard Version and can be perused or purchased at Concordia Publishing House.  {And it’s not just for Lutherans!}  There is an official 90 day study bible but this one is so full of good stuff that I doubt I’ll ever use another one  for study/bible reading  purposes.

Most of all, he leaves the reader longing—–for home.

This book is profoundly different from his other works,  was claimed to be his favorite of his own books and was his last and—- in the opinion of many, including me—his best published work.   He retells the story of the greek myth of Cupid and Psyche but from the perspective of Orual, who is Psyche’s older, hideous-looking sister.   The book is, in essence,  Orual’s complaint to the gods, about her life and the sometimes unfortunate, horrible situations in which she was placed.   Lewis tells the story in the first person and describes Orual’s  journey of self-discovery and how, though she is often abused and oppressed,  finds time and time again that she is the oppressor herself.   Though she was like a mother to her sister Psyche and loved her intensely, she learns that her love was laced with selfishness and self-preservation.

Orual later becomes a wise and beloved queen and is praised for her many skills.   She wears a veil to conceal her ugliness and after many years, the people began to spread rumors, that perhaps she wears a veil because she’s too beautiful to show her face.   She, however, knows the truth and is shown by the ‘gods’ that despite her outward appearance of success, she is destitute.

She says,

“I would set out boldly each morning to be just and calm and wise in all my thoughts and acts, but before they had finished dressing me I would find that I was back in some old rage, resentment, gnawing fantasy, or sullen bitterness. I could not hold out half an hour . . . I could mend my soul no more than my face.”

{sounds so oddly and clearly  familiar to my every morning}

Orual’s journey of self-discovery comes full circle when she finally comes face to face with the gods.  As she makes her complaint, she realizes the absurdity of her words, the uselessness of all the cover-ups and disguises.  {It occurred  me how often I’ve played a litany in my head  of excuses and justifications and complaints to God and how childish it all must have sounded}

Orual says,

” When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like,  been saying over and over,  you’ll not talk about the joy of words.   I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?”

After making her complaint to the gods and realizing the wretchedness of her own soul, she must now face the gods’ complaint against her and she must do it un-veiled. And miraculously, in a most wondrous picture of Christ’s vicarious atonement for us, she is revealed as beautiful—-she is given the beauty of Psyche and when the gods judge her, they see only Psyche.

This book will not leave you pointing fingers to how others have been at fault for what’s wrong in your life.  Or even how God has deserted you.  It will boldly set a mirror in front of you and bid you see clearly.  And it will give you hope, that when we are clothed with Christ, God, our judge, sees only Him and his perfect life and love and obedience on our behalf. His beauty overtakes our sin. We exchange our hideousness for His love and perfection, as a beautiful and gracious free gift.   Lewis leads us to despair of ourselves and to ultimately find our true joy and hope in Another.

Lewis is brilliant in his ability to strip down the readers’ defenses, forcing us to look at ourselves for who and what we really are.   And we are nothing, if not, desperate…….for home.

Note: This book is deep and rich and must be read and re-read. It will sucker punch you and leave you almost out of breath at times. I’ve read certain sections more than ten times and am still reeling from the truths that can be found here. But beware, this book will get under your skin and gnaw at all your presuppositions.
{After reading the book, there was something at its’ essence that reminded me of Matthew Mayfield’s song Open Road.   I’ve included the lyrics and installed the song at the top of this post–just above the date.  Just push play and let your defenses wash away}

Open Road
Lay me down on
shores of the whitest sand
soft like that woman
with the fight of a thousand men

and if you find the key
would you set me free?
if you find the key
would you set me free?

I’m screaming to God
‘would you come and save
what you’ve either forgotten
or you’re strengthening
I’ve finally paid the toll
and it’s all open road
just trying to find a home
take me home’

Violet iris
and lilies in bloom for spring
enticing—the silence
a song that we all can sing

and if you find the key
would you set me free?
if you find the key
would you set me free?

I’m screaming to God
‘would you come and save
what you’ve either forgotten
or you’re strengthening
I’ve finally paid the toll
and it’s all open road
just trying to find a home
take me home’

We’re tired and changing
heartbeats are fading
our days are numbered
the clocks, they keep ticking
I’ve been deserted,
my feelings perverted
by a pissed off and ripped up machine cycle circus
when we look in the mirror
it shatters with shame
our faces are bloody
and sour with disdain
I have seen what you are
and I have seen who I am
and we are desperate, we’re desperate, we’re desperate
for home…
home….

lay me down on
shores of the whitest sand
soft like that woman
with the fight of a thousand men

The first Harry Potter book, The Sorcerer’s Stone, was released in 1997, when my son Taylor was 7 years old. I bought the first book and we read the first five or so chapters aloud before I began to hear the siren calls that the book was demonic, full of witchcraft, and ought to be renounced by christians. I obeyed the cry of James Dobson and others to keep the book safely from my children—–until last Monday. I’m also ashamed to say that I likely criticized J.K. Rowling during the last twelve years without knowing much about her and certainly without reading the series or watcing the movies for myself—all the while, secretly wondering if I was misguided in my uneducated summation of her work. In retrospect, I don’t think that was a very academic or even a very christian thing to do. I’ve had to do a similar sort of eye-opening on many subjects since I’ve become Lutheran, so I’m accustomed to the routine of relearning, of challenging old dogma that once ruled the day in my life.

How to Read Literature Like a Professor
Galileo’s Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems
Isaac Newton’s The Principia
Mortimer Adler’s How to Think About the Great Ideas of Western Civilization

It’s confirmed. I’m a bit nerdy. With an uncanny love for words.
Be they in a book or on the wall.
Or almost anywhere at all.

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