Book Review: The Mountains Bow Down, Sibella Giorello

"The Last Frontier is a dream destination for this forensic geologist who's hoping to leave behind a hectic work schedule and an engagement drained of romance. But when a passenger goes missing and winds up dead, Raleigh's vacation suddenly gets lost at sea."

Two-time Pulitzer Prize nominated storyteller Sibella Giorello continues her novel series centered around FBI agent and forensic geologist Raleigh Harmon.  In this fourth novel, her main character takes a vacation on an Alaskan cruise with her ailing mother, an aunt and her aunt's eccentric friend.  Also on board is a Hollywood film crew shooting their final scenes, when one amongst them is found dead.  Harmon partners up with their FBI agent consulting for the film to solve this mystery before hitting land.

There is a lot going on in this book.  With Harmon we see a character that is very real and complicated which is refreshing.  She is an ambitious woman who is very good at her job, although the reader can often see how she uses her work as an escape from the challenges in her personal life.  The relationship with her fiance is distant at best and in an effort to protect her mother's fragile mental state, she has kept the nature of her work hidden, although readers are able to get the sense that this deception only adds to the mother's struggles.  She is a woman of faith, but she is still flawed and still struggles with her own wounds.

I really found myself liking the character of Harmon, which despite the who-dunnit plot, was the real story of the novel; a kind of watching her personal journey of growth.  I found her believable, and especially as a Christian character, not so overly caricatured.  It was interesting to watch how she had to balance her faith with the other characters with whom she had to interact.  I thought that was handled well.  The ongoing story line of her personal relationships was also very realistic as it things didn't all have an easy solution or ending.  I appreciated the realistic humanity of it all.

As for the rest of the plot, I thought the setting was intriguing and the mystery engaging.  I liked the other characters and had a real sense of them.  I did have some trouble keeping the layout of the ship straight although she was knowledgeable in her descriptions.  There were also such a large number of characters.  Because of this, the plot was hard to follow at times.

As for the Christianity, this is not a book about preaching the salvation message to the reader.  It was really about how Harmon as a Christian had to live in the world around her, which includes people of all types and attitudes towards Christianity from which Giorello didn't shy away in her character development.  Harmon herself is flawed, but it would be unrealistic and unfair to present her as someone who is always right or perfect just because she's the Christian.  Although it isn't preachy, her faith was not avoided, but rather referred to often, seeing as it is a major part of Harmon's identity and personal journey.  I appreciated this.

Although this is the fourth in a series, I had never read any of the previous books.  I was pleased to see how easy it was to jump right in without any foreknowledge and yet it didn't feel as if it was some kind of overly detailed beginning that would make me want to skip a few pages if I had read the previous books.  In fact, reading this has made me want to go back and read the earlier novels.

I rate this book 4 out of 5 inkspots.

I received this book free from the publisher through the Booksneeze book review for bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

A Chorus of Glory

My most recent post, Why We Remember, while dedicated to the memory of 9/11, brought Christian perspective to the general importance of rembrance.  

Remembrance gives purpose. Remembrance brings gratitude.  

Remembrance strengthens community.  Remembrance provides perspective.  

Remembrance reignites hope 

in what God will bring us through today and forever... 

because He is faithful.

Today, I was reading this post by my friend Bonnie over at Faith Barista; it is a tribute to a dying friend through whom a song of joy still rings clear, a song that will resound long after death because of the work of God in her.  In this story, I heard a familiar melody and her name was Sweet Michelle.  In her brief four months, she taught me how to fight for life and reminded me of the Kingdom for which we are made and in which we are called to live now.  Today I remember her, and it reignites my hope, because it brings me back to Him, the One who brings us through... the One who really is faithful. 

Let us not take this life for granted and let us live every breath in worship of our loving God, letting the songs of our lives resonate even now, a chorus of His glory.

Should you want to know more, the following are excerpts from my newsletters sent in 2006, sharing the story of Michelle Amani.  Much has been edited out for length and sensitivity.

January
It was the 4th of October, when a 16 year-old Ugandan gave birth to a premature girl. Weighing only 1.47 kilos, the baby was left to fend for itself when the mother made a prompt exit from the hospital.  The social worker at Mulago hospital handed her to me, saying she needed a name for their records.  “Abandoned Baby Girl” was renamed Michelle for my sister.

Sweet Michelle, as I call her, is the color of brown sugar, not like the light sandy grains at home, rather the dark, syrupy crystals we import here from Kenya. She fits perfectly cradled in my arm, allowing her to pull her right arm out over top of the blanket, rolling her palm into a small fist.  She draws it up to rest under her chin, pursing her lips as she dreams.  Already a diva, she pushes out her upper lip in a reverse pout as she opens her eyes, expecting attention.  The workers insist on keeping her dressed in pink for her namesake, and just like my big sis, she loves both to sleep and get her own way.

The boy who had come to us with Michelle that day had died from his conditions.  It was only a few days after burying him, that our nurse came upstairs, flustered and shaking.  “Holly, your sister is sick.”

Tests revealed that she is HIV Reactive, with hepatitis, a bacterial infection, anemia, etc.

Hours can pass so quickly when just holding her, praying for her, loving her. You want no moment to be wasted. Mom, was this what you felt when you held my sick infant body for so long? Yet I am alive, healthy and strong. I have to believe the same for my sister, this child who like so many of our others will carry with her the name of our orphanage on her paperwork, on her history. In that gesture alone she has written into her identity the Swahili meaning of Amani, peace, and the Lugandan, power.

She looks boldly into my face when I hold her, black eyes locked to my brown, like she knows something we’ve forgotten.

February
When Sweet Michelle would look at me so boldly, I think I know what made her stare unwaveringly.  Michelle was only four months old but was born with a knowledge not gained through years on this earth, rather it is a knowledge often dimmed by our time in this place.

While I was away for the weekend, I got the text that she had fallen sick and lost a kilo in the course of one night. With almost half of her body weight gone and all that history of illness, I knew it was desperate. I loved her and she had been showing such progress.

I held her tiny frame from early morning until late evening Monday. Tuesday she went to Kampala. She died with all the symptoms of Stage 4 AIDS on Wednesday, January 25th.

We never know what all God is doing when our prayers for healing are answered in different ways, but we have to trust Him. You see, we can get too accustomed to our lives.

Michelle knew we were not made for the things of this earth, but for the Kingdom of God. I think she knew this in her spirit as we are all born with a longing for God.  Her story reminds us that this is all just a beginning. That alone makes it a story of hope, in spite of sadness.

Why We Remember

Today we remember the tragic events that so profoundly affected us this day ten years ago.  Today I share this video made by a friend who reminds us of the importance of remembrance from a Christian perspective.  As we remember, let us follow our reflections with our actions, taking the time to pray for our nation and our people, that God would bring healing and that we would know His peace.

Today I join the lovely folk at Spiritual Sundays

The Impact of a Drop

When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do.

Philip answered him, “It would take more than half a year’s wages to buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!”

Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?” 

                                                               -- John 6:5-9

The people were hungry.  The disciples were dumbfounded.  A small boy offered his lunch.  In today's world, we are too often like the disciples who look at small acts and scoff, looking at the contribution and analyzing the details.  We end up doing nothing since we can't see how it could possibly make any impact.  Why put forth the effort if it won't make a difference?  It's just a drop in the ocean.

Even though Jesus had just been doing all kinds of miraculous stuff that day through His compassion and healing touch, the disciples somehow forgot about His power when considering those basic things, like hunger.  How often do we do the same?   We must be willing to do those small acts believing they will make an impact

        -- not because the act itself is great, 

                        but rather the God who works in it.  

The truth is that it doesn't even cost that much a lot of times.  For the boy, it was one lunch out of a lifetime.  For us, it could be that card, a shared afternoon over coffee, or even just a joke at the post office counter to get that one teller to smile.  Yes, we must be willing to obey God in doing those things that could cost us everything, that's a part of our surrender.  But let us also be intentional with the small everyday things too, recognizing God's role in these simple acts of faith.   Let us live deliberately with the love of Christ and believe God can do the miraculous.  He just might surprise us with the magnitude in the process.  Afterall, a simple drop, weighted with the power of God can create quite the ripple effect, transforming the whole surface of the water and affecting everything in it's path.

Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there).  Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.”  So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.

After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, “Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world.”

                                                                 -- John 6:10-14

Today, I am challenging you to think of simple ways you can live and act in faith. 
There is a world hungry for hope.  What will you do?

For more about simple acts of faith, visit Bonnie at Faith Barista.

And Then We'll Pray Some More...

Let's just be honest...  It has been rough year the world over and we are just over halfway through.  From an already desperate economic climate to the Japanese tsunami, and now in the wake of the senseless brutality of the Oslo shootings and more we also have man-made destruction in the city of London.  The modern age has brought the world so much closer and social networking, amongst other technologies, have given us real-time feeds of life on the other side of the world.  This is how in fact, I was able to learn last night that my friend was upstairs in her flat in Southeast London as looters ransacked the Tesco just down the street, worrying how close they would come to her.  Some wonder what we can do in times like this when we are geographically distant or simply emotionally shocked by the terrors around us.  To simply answer with a word "Pray" sounds too cliche, too weak, too... easy.  Maybe that would be the case if God were not real, but He is real, and He is able. 

It isn't about the words we say 

                    -- it is about the God to whom we say them. 

So what do you say; shall we pray some more?  For some more insight on this most recent event, give a listen to this short video by Pete Greig of 24-7 Prayer. 

Pete Greig is the founder of the 24-7 movement and Director of Prayer for Holy Trinity Brompton, in London. He and his family live in Guildford, England, where they are actively engaged with establishing a new missional (‘Boiler Room’) community. Pete’s books include Red Moon Rising, The Vision and The Vow and God on Mute.

A Call to Pray

I am one who personally knows that God works through prayer.  My most recent post, But God..., dealt with a very personal journey of faith.  For just over a year, a large group of people from various churches in Ireland and abroad had been praying regarding a government policy that directly affected workers in the church, and in turn, me.  This week I learned that earlier this year, God answered this prayer in a different way than expected, but in a clearer and more secure way.  On Sunday, my personal prayer was answered with great ease, as well as with healing from those related African wounds.  God is good and I am overwhelmed.

That's just one miracle of many, and yet I believe God wants to do more.  He asks us to pray, commands it really.  

Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray. Is anyone cheerful? Let him sing praise. Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. 

And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. 

The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again, and heaven gave rain, and the earth bore its fruit.  

-- James 5:13-18

Today I am praying for my friend who just got out of surgery.  I am praying for my home state which is enduring dangerous drought and heat.  I am praying for my country of residence which has suffered harsh economics, corrupt officials, and tragic religious abuses.  I am praying that His Kingdom come on earth as it is in Heaven.  I would love it if you would join me in these prayers.

Even as we pray for these situations closest to our hearts, can I urge you to pray more?  Can we also look beyond our own circles and pray for the desperate situations of the world?  I am involved with 24-7 Prayer, a network of folk all around the world who have taken the initiative to pray in faith, living lives of prayer, mission and justice. You have heard me mention them before in several posts.  Today, Rebecca Dunning posts a call for prayer for the crises in the newly formed Southern Sudan where the northern Sudanese government has ordered the destruction of all the Samaritan's Purse churches and the clearing of the Nuba Mountains.  Now even as I write this, there are news alerts about the explosion that shocked Oslo, Norway today.  This is a broken world and we cannot ignore God's call if we want to see hope brought into these situations.

Even here in the blogosphere, we make an impact.  Our faith is strengthened by our shared stories of God's faithfulness.  How many more stories will we have when we also take the time to pray for each other, our blog followers, our local communities and our world?

Will you take a moment now and pray for these things?  
                                                                         I'll join you.

But God...

Today's story began feeling impossible, but God... 

I have been on a particular faith journey for a while now with a specific issue. Through prayer and perseverance, I have found myself encouraged and confident, walking in full faith.  As the time for resolution merges with the present however, I have found myself susceptible to shakiness, tripping over random potholes of doubt.  I knew this morning would be a critical point in this process, so I had been asking God how to really enact the faith I have in Him.  Without realizing that God was answering my prayer, I awoke overwhelmed with memories of Africa.

I remembered feeling strangled by the wireless lines of countless phone calls at every hour of the day and night, between officials and families, and never with any real news to report.  I remembered the heat from tears that burned my cheeks into a pink mess, mimicking the affects of the equatorial sun.  I remembered the government offices where the necessary stamps were slammed so hard they scarred my consciousness.  But I also remembered the conversations I had out loud with God.  They were desperate hours that left me broken and raw, but still convinced that God would deliver.  Faith was all I had.

No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith 

as he gave glory to God, fully convinced 
that God was able to do what he had promised. 

-- Romans 4:20-21

All the signs pointed to impossible, but God...

God did deliver.  Despite the pain in each of those memories, they came this morning simultaneously with their resolution as I remembered the miraculous ways God placed the children into families.  Despite the sorrow, the memories arrived with the joy of completeness.  Despite the trauma incurred, they resounded with triumph.  God's triumph. With this onslaught of images, God was giving me an emotional reminder of His faithfulness.

Abraham believe God and it was credited to him as righteousness.  He was absolutely convinced of God's ability.  He was looking at God and His nature and not the circumstances of his perceived reality.  God wants us to trust and obey, without worrying about the how and simply persevering in faith, taking God at His word.

Now I still have yet to arrive at the destination of my journey with my particular issue, but God...

God has reminded me of His nature.  My day has been a choice to focus on Him.  He is with me in this and He has paved the way so I don't have to fear.  He is the way, the truth and the light.  He is faithful.

By referencing Abraham, Paul not only encouraged the Romans, but taught us the value of sharing our faith journeys with each other.  They remind us all of the possible nature of God.  Let's build our faith together and share! The glory is His.

For more encouragement, visit Bonnie over at Faith Barista 

where we are keeping it fresh and keeping it real.

The Big Issue

I have never been small.  When I was born, the scales tipped at a heavy 8lbs. 13oz.  Big newborn babies are greeted with joy, and growth is celebrated.  Before long, the message changes.  The culture of the world inundates us with images of what makes one beautiful and it convinces us that it is this beauty, not love, that covers a multitude of sins.

I can remember feeling insecure about being fat as early as elementary school.  For me, beauty was all about weight and I would go back and forth with feeling negative about myself and then combating the feelings by "proving" that I could be valued for things other than beauty - strength, for example, or intelligence.  I could do many things and as I grew older, I would pursue all of them to prove I was talented and yet I still always felt like a mediocre version of the friends around me who excelled at those things and were beautiful on top of that.  In all those Nancy Drew books I loved to read, I was just the pudgy friend Bess. 

It bothered me, because I knew who I was on the inside.  I had in fact, been a Christian longer than I had the insecurity, and I knew I had purpose, vision and gifts.  But those things only made me seem even more like an oddball and I longed for social acceptance.  My insecurity about my body helped serve as a strong foundation on which to pile wounds of rejection.  I would come to blame it for my singleness and awkwardness in groups among other things, especially when even other Christians would encourage mere aesthetic remedies to those "problems."

Looking back now at pictures of my youth, I can see without the filter of insecurity; I actually was normal sized.  I certainly wasn't small and thin, but that had more to do with this broad German frame than any extra padding.  Having been born five weeks early and deathly ill, I sometimes wonder if my large birth weight was part of God's saving grace in the fight for survival.  But the very thing that may have been a blessing, I abused and called a curse.  I struggled with unhealthy habits and became probably the first girl who, through skipping meals, actually gained weight.  I damaged my metabolism and have spent the last fifteen years working to restore it.

Yet here, now, at what the ladies from my mum's church would call my "fluffiest," I feel more beautiful than I ever did.  I may not be a good weight, but I am working on that, and my blood tests reveal that all my counts are actually better than normal.  That's not why I feel this way.  I feel beautiful because I know who I am in Him.   That girl hidden inside of me; she wasn't made to fit in with the world.  She was made to be set apart, as each of us are, for a purpose that glorifies Him.  

Of course I still get those panicky moments when I go to my closet before a special occasion, or that little cringe of disappointment when I see a photograph that shows my reality a little too well.  Yes, I still struggle with deep wounds related to all this.  I am human after all, tied to earth with this bag of bones, big bag that it is.  But God is a healer and through all this, He continuously speaks to me about my identity in Him.  He says I am beautiful.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  I am the apple of His eye.  I am a woman of value.  I am His daughter.   
He delights in me...  and none of it is because of my body size.  


This post was inspired today after reading a post at Beta Christian that was talking about the importance beauty plays in our society.  I was instantly flooded with loads of memories, but in them, I felt a breath of God's encouragement as they came.  To narrow down my feelings and find focus was difficult and I feel like there might be a few more posts lingering in me with which I can dive deeper into this topic.  Since I already gave the rawest of raw in my February post about relationships, I should have no fear in bringing this to the surface.  In the meantime, I pray you might be encouraged to take a look at who God says you are, as there is so much freedom there.

The Secret of Catch

When I was young, we had one of those standard family station wagons that marked the suburban landscape of the early 80's, even though ours stayed out in the country with us.  It was powder blue and on long trips, my sister and I would put the backseat down and use the stretch of the hatchback as our fort.  It was there we played games, read books and eventually fell asleep under blankets like our own moving hotel while dad and mom sat in the front.  We called it the Blue Bomber.

I mention it today because as I was remembering my father, and though there is so much to tell about this man some other time, I was struck by one memory of game dad often played with us while he drove that vehicle.  When mom wasn't occupying the passenger seat, my sister and I would pile in that space and whoever sat next to daddy would inevitably end up playing "catch the hand."  In essence, my father would put out his non-driving hand palm-up and we would try to tap the center and pull back without him catching our hand.  Then we'd switch.  He might have said it was some speed challenge from some Bruce Lee flick, but for me it was a chance to just have fun with dad.  The thing was, he always seemed to catch my hand and yet when we switched I couldn't seem to catch him.  I just assumed I was too small, too slow.  I didn't know his secret.

As the Bomber got older, the fabric covering the ceiling panel began to sag, making large upside down bubbles of baby blue felt that fell perfectly onto my tall father's head.  One day he was so frustrated, he pulled the whole thing off in one complete sheet.  The secret behind the puffy blue interior that had been my sister's and my sky when we lay back on those long journeys was revealed.  The newly exposed moss colored foam coating was a real tangible thing.  No longer a secret, it marked our hair with small bits of fuzz every time we got in or out of the car.  Some bits were so small, they stuck like dust to our foreheads and arms, a visible reminder of where we had been.

As I got older, I learned that there was no speed magic in my father's hand either.  His secret was just as tangible.  I remember the day I saw the action for how it really was.  I went to tap my father's palm, and I noticed that his hand was already reaching up toward mine, shortening the distance and assuring the capture and the giggles. 

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.  

--James 4:8a

Despite my father's human failings, as a child I simply knew him to be someone I wanted to be around.  I felt safe when I was with him.  It was in that security that I knew I was loved.  

God the Father loves without failing and in Him we find ultimate security.  It is out of this love and mercy that God is constantly drawing us toward Himself.  So whether confident or nervous, when we take that step toward Him, we can be assured  He has already closed the gap to receive us.

The story of the prodigal son tells us that while the son was still a long way off,  the father saw him and came running, embracing him (Luke 15:11-32).  Isn't this the nature of our God!  Instead of a hand, He captures our heart; instead of giggles, He gives us a wellspring of joy.  We become marked with the dust of His grace, evidence to those around us of where we have been.  We have been with our Father.

Some Joy in OK!

Some of ye may have noticed that things here in my corner have been quiet lately.  Well, I think the two recent book reviews have sufficiently dusted out any cobwebs and this girl is ready to get typing again!

I wanted however to share the joyous news that was the reason for my absence...

Yes.  This is my beautiful mum and her cowboy.  I was so blessed to be able to fly across the Atlantic to be there for the wedding.  I got to spend three weeks with my family and all my friends back in T-Town.  It has been ages since I have seen my mother so at peace and happy and she couldn't have found a better gentleman.  I was so thrilled to be able to be there for it all, especially since I hadn't been Stateside or seen any of my family in a year.

It was truly an occasion that God brought together.  At one point the wedding coordinator pulled me aside and said she and both the photographer had been talking.  She said that this is the kind of thing they see every day, given their line of business.  However she said there was something about it all that gave them pause.  She said simply, "This is REAL."  The love, the joy and the sense of family.  She said she was leaving feeling as if her purpose there was not simply to work, but rather to receive a blessing herself, full of hope for her own family members' lives.

This something special was simply God.  Folks, we may be involved in all our own stuff, absorbed in our moments.  But the Spirit of the Lord is with us everywhere we go and people do notice.  May we never disregard that. 

Let your light so shine before men, 

that they may see your good works, 

and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

--Matt 5:16

Book Review: The FIne Art of Insincerity, Angela Hunt

This is the story of three Southern sisters with ten marriages between them and more looming on the horizon. It takes a "girls only" weekend spent closing up Grandma's treasured beach house for the sisters to really unpack their family baggage, examine their relationship DNA, and discover the true legacy their much-marrying grandmother left behind.

This novel is by best-selling author Angela Hunt.  The Fine Art of Insincerity is simpy the newest in a string of successes, including The Note, which was featured as a Hallmark Channel Film Original.  This new release is a character driven novel focusing on a single weekend in the lives of three sisters, having been raised mostly by their grandmother,  and all with hidden wounds that have shaped their perceptions of the world around them and each other. 

The dysfunction begins right from the start, as the reader gets a first person glimpse into the minds of each sister.  I don't always enjoy reading first person and present tense narrative, but in this case, it is a necessary past of the storytelling.  Hunt has also done a very good job of not just making the characters different in personality, but even in their way of thinking and speaking.  It is very easy to distinguish the voice of each sister from the very beginning.  Should the reader still need a visual reminder of the change, the author has chosen to use different fonts for each sister's segments. 

Despite being just over 300 pages, I found myself reading the whole book in just two sittings.  The tricky thing about character driven narrative is that it can often come out dry and uneventful.  However this book starts with one sister confronting her husband's infidelity, another sister considering infidelity herself, and the most secret of them all, the third sister planning her imminent suicide at the end of the weekend.  The sisters have obviously not remained close in their adult years and the weekend plays out with each casting judgments on each other.  This is so perfectly executed, without any dilution of the emotions and yet still subtle, just as we are in life.  I must applaud Hunt in this respect as the mechanics of this is a sensitive and complicated business.  

As in reality, the characters' perceptions of each other are shaded by their own misinterpretations of each others' intentions and thoughts.  As the reader with a view of them all, we can see how self-absorbed each has become because of their pain.  They are all so certain about what they think they know about life and each other, and yet we can see how none of them know each other at all.  It is painful to read most of the time, because as readers, we just want to slap the selfishness out of them all.  But even if we could, we probably wouldn't, as Hunt has been successful at also making the reader extremely compassionate towards each of them.  

My heart was breaking through this novel, even more so because it was so extremely plausible.  Hunt's novel proves the saying true, that wounded people wound people.   The novel is a call to honesty at all costs for the sake of healing, redemption, and restoration.  I imagine this book will do very well, and I hope the direct and confrontational look at these sisters will help expose issues within the reader that may have been left festering from an old wound.  In some ways it might hit too close to home for some folk, but Hunt doesn't leave the reader hanging, as there is light at the end.  It is not some too clean and easy to believe cliche, but it is a beginning for the characters, a beginning filled with hope.  

It is not however for every person, as it is a very estrogen packed novel.  Although it deals with issues primarily related to marriage and children, it id not limited to a married audience.  I would expect most adult women of any background would enjoy this.  There are some elements of faith, but they are minimal, but in one moment, the inclusion of the love chapter from I Corinthians is quite profound.

I rate this book 4 out of 5 inkspots.

I received this book free from the publisher through the Glass Road PR book review for bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Book Review: Holy Guacamole, Dan and Denise Harmer

When Trace Domingo is accepted into Chef Bonnie Miller's culinary boot camp, a life-threatening journey into Bonnie's past unfolds. In a vulnerable moment, Trace discovers part of Bonnie's closely-held secret. She hasn't yet decided to trust the "bootie" when a crisis makes the choice for her. The pair embark on a race against the clock across southern California and northern Baja in Mexico.

Pegged as a "Romantic adventure for foodies," this novel promised to be a great light summer read.  I was so ready to love it even before I opened the cover.  In a genre inundated with period settings and over idealized characters, I was excited for something in a contemporary setting with relatable characters and a sense of humor, not to mention the culinary themed backdrop.  I was however really disappointed by this book.

Everything started off really great.  I think it is may be because a couple author this book that the inside voices of the characters were more realistic.  In other words, it seemed like a guy wrote what guys think, and a girl what the girl would think.  This added to the authenticity of the characters, up to a point.  Just before the halfway point, the book started to lose it stability.  So much time had been spent on developing a story arc based on an exciting discovery that it would only make sense to follow that path.  However, this story was never actually followed.  Elements from the discovery were included in later parts, but were certainly not necessary to the late developed "real" plot.

The second half of the book was as rushed as the characters in the midst of their own escape.  The main female character Bonnie became more and more unbelievable as it went on, like a manic caricature of who she was in the beginning.  There were too many story arcs added into the equation, perhaps for added intrigue, but despite their dire circumstances, they came off almost flippant.  There really could have been a profound statement about adoption, as it played a major role in Bonnie's history, and even in the resolution.  However, no statement was clearly made.  (as one who formerly worked as an adoption coordinator for a third world orphanage, there was just something about the way that was handled in the end that made me cringe a little.)  I guess having no defined statement was my biggest issue; there seemed to be no real point to any of the themes that were brought up.  

In the end, Bonnie had transformed in attitude, but even that was handled in a haphazard way.  Her transformation seemed to be only inspired by a supernatural occurrence and done out of her own will because she saw that selfishness is bad.  There was no Christ, no revelation of the need for salvation, just the kind of change anyone can make, regardless of faith.  Now, I am not one to prefer heavy-handed preachy novels, but many things were just left a little too ambiguous.  I mean I cannot put my finger on any one specific thing and say, "This was wrong and therefore..." but maybe that's a problem.  I should be able to know what exactly the authors are saying, whether I agree or disagree.  This ambiguity was most evident with Trace, the character who was supposedly the one with faith from the beginning, well I think.  He did say "Thank God" once right at the beginning.  He just kind of went with whatever.  He didn't do anything wrong or bad, but he also didn't do anything remotely related to his presumed faith even in when in crisis.  

I really really wanted to like this book.  There was so much potential within the first third of it too.   I think this might be the authors first novel, in which case I hope they can grow as there is definitely talent.  The execution needs some work though.  It is such a shame that I have to rate this book as I do. 

I give this book 2 out of 5 inkspots.

I received this book free from the publisher through the Glass Road PR book review for bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

The Grammar of Trust

                            
                  trust  (trst)

v. trust·ed, trust·ing, trusts

v.intr.

1. To have or place reliance; depend: Trust in the Lord. Trust to destiny.

2. To be confident; hope.

 

n.

1. Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.

2. Custody; care.

3. Something committed into the care of another; charge.

The beginning of this year marked a new season for me, one where God would show Himself as my source, even through the very food I ate.  Prompted by Bonnie over at Faith Barista, I found a word to mark this journey.  My word for this year is TRUST.  I remember the pain I was in and the emotional struggles that came with the pain as I felt the loneliness, guilt and shame that stemmed from my physical condition preventing me from doing what I thought I ought to be doing.  I wrote about beginning this journey here.  Now these few months later I am amazed at what God has done, not just in my body which is in a time of recovery, but also in my relationship with Him and the ministry He has put before me.  Even in my days of no "productivity," laying listless on the couch, He increased my territory even as He did Jabez.  We trust Him, because He is the One by whom all good things are done.  It is in Him that we live, move and have our being.   

      Trust is an act, 

           a verb that rests in my hands, my head and my heart.

I was recently talking with a friend who is crying out for freedom from oppression.  The words were simply, "I need a miracle."  This person confessed to being confused about God's very existence and yet experiences had shown that God would be the only answer, so together we prayed.  The miracle is up to God.  I knew in that moment that God would deliver, and that I do not have to strive for Him to do something great.  My God is good and He is trust worthy.   

      In that moment of confidence,  

             I realized my verb is also a noun. 

My friend is in the TRUST of the Lord, in His care, His charge and custody.

The LORD is a refuge for the oppressed,

   a stronghold in times of trouble.

Those who know your name trust in you,

   for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.

                             --Psalm 9:9-10

The necklace seen in the above picture was just purchased on my very recent visit Stateside.  I had been wanting to wear my word as a reminder of the treasure that TRUST truly is.  This confidence, this assurance, this hope... it comes from knowing that God really is who He says He is.

I was thrilled to find this shop in my hometown of Tulsa.  I think Vintage Pearl did a great job making my word special and so I wanted to give them a little shout-out.  They have a lovely website and can ship internationally in addition to locations within the US.  Check them out! Perhaps there is a word or a person on your heart that you could use as inspiration for a piece.

It's the Little Things

 

Strawberries are my favorite fruit.  Springtime in Tulsa is the best for strawberries in my opinion.  You can find them in huge amounts, the fresh sweet smell drawing you to a display marked clearly with low prices.  I love it.  I went for three years without strawberries when I lived in Uganda, as the few visits home to T-town were off season.  Since moving to Ireland, those strawberries are more available, but they definitely come at a price.  I am currently growing my own in a pot on the balcony.  But today, I ate a load of these fresh American strawberries in my morning oatmeal.  It's one of the little things I love about being back home.

That's right.  I am in Tulsa.  It has been a year since this bit of middle America has been pounded by my flip-flop wearing feet.  I am here for a short visit with the fam, enjoying the celebration that has drawn me here... my mum is getting married!  And I am enjoying the little things that could easily get taken for granted, did I not live elsewhere - things I love, like family and strawberries.  And... driving big cars at fast speeds on wide roads, unlimited hot water that comes out with extreme pressure, petting my Daisy-doo who still remembers me even though this little dog is getting so much older, eating Taco Bueno, and hearing the constant sound of aircraft flying above that has become a distinctive part of the Tulsa background.  So T-town, thanks for the warm welcome.  It's good to be back.

G.O.S.P.E.L.

I found this video earlier this week. Artistic and profound, I also thought it beautiful and inspiring. It is truth, the truth. Let us not take for granted the message of our faith.  Watch and enjoy.

A Clean Space

I hate washing dishes.  I mean, there aren't many people who really like washing dishes, unless you are like my friend Olivia.  Olivia shared the apartment with me for almost two years.  She loves to clean, so much so we would all joke about it.  She also liked to wake up really early, so by the time I woke up and stumbled to the kitchen, the dishes were done, masterfully stacked like some magical tower in the drying rack.  I never knew which dish to take first to put away, with one false move sending the whole lot crashing down onto the counter.  But Olivia has since moved away.

In the States where hot water is constant, one can just wash dishes as they use them, although I never did.  I am one of those people who lets the dishes accumulate a small bit before washing the lot.  Here, we have to turn the hot water tank on just before we want the hot water, so we have to be more intentional about how we use that energy.  This suits me fine and gives me an excuse to leave the dishes for a couple days before the soapy attack.  I am only one person though so it isn't like I have loads to do anyway.

Sitting on the couch, the notion of getting up to do the dishes seems horrible, but my kitchen and living room are together so I can't avoid the mess.  I reluctantly give in, but in actuality, I find that it is in that process, standing with my back to the world,   I find space to really connect with God.  

It is just me in the house.  The water gushes and breaks the silence.  I start with the suds and pray out loud.  I get in rhythm of washing and the tunes come up from inside me, singing loudly from the heart as I stack the soapy dishes to the side.  Draining the sink and scrubbing the silverware piece by piece, I feel calm and pray softly, sometimes without words.  Then I turn on the hot water and I begin to pull each dish through its steamy flow.  I listen for His voice.  I wash the sink, wipe down the counters and the stove.  I breathe.  I have found rest in His presence.

Truth be told, the times I feel most connected with God are when I break away and go out into nature, when I am driving highway miles on wide stretches of road, and when I can tuck into a corner nook at a moody coffee shop.  These are my favorite things to do and God always meets me.  I guess I never realized how much I love my time with Him when I wash dishes too. 

Putting the Soul at Ease

Painting by Hiroko Sakai

Yesterday a couple of friends and I drove the few hours to Dublin to check out a car that I was considering purchasing.  I am not one to rush into decisions like this and a lot of prayer had gone into the whole process.  The night before, though, I caught myself panicking a bit.  Would I know if this was the right car or not?  Would I get suckered and have used God's money irresponsibly? If it was no good, would I have wasted both my and my friends' time and paid the costly petrol prices for nothing?  My emotions were all over the place and in the end I just had to pray, to ask God that He would do as He has done before, giving me that sense in my spirit of a definite yes or no.

Often, especially as Christians, our desire to do what is right becomes the stress that holds us back from doing anything.  We can easily begin to over-think things, like we are playing a game of chess and somehow have to figure in all the possibilities and ramifications of the each move, preventing us from actually moving. We get so lost in our own attempts to assses,

our emotions begin to dominate our choices 

and we either rush into something or retreat entirely.

Over the last few weeks I have talked about the REST God has been bringing to my body and the REST He calls us to spiritually, but what can lasso our emotions and bring them back into proper order, bring them into REST?

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 

--Phillipians 4:6

When we become anxious we are letting our emotions dictate to us based on what we perceive with our own eyes.  One examination of the word used here reveals a sense of being tossed to and fro, an emotional unrest.  In this verse, we are again being called to REST, this time in our emotions.  As Christians we know we are supposed to pray and trust God, but when our emotions get the best of us, it is hard to really let go.  If we read the verse again however there is something more mentioned than just the anxiety and the prayers; there is thanksgiving.  When we give thanks we are not just glorifying God, but speaking to our own heart about His faithfulness.  When we are struggling to find hope for the big things, we begin to thank Him for the small things.  Somehow our faith builds and we get so caught up in His goodness that it is easier to do that which He called us to do, to TRUST Him.  We move so much into Him that our emotions are restored to a proper functioning order and we have peace, even if the situation still seems uncertain.

 Thankfulness brings about emotional REST.

We arrived safely in Dublin, meeting up with a friend from our sister church there with a background with auto mechanics.  Upon investigating the car, I just had this gut feeling it was a no, but I waited as my friends checked over the engine.  My friend noticed details that were questionable and then more evidence that the car had been in a major crash.  When the salesman asked why we weren't buying it, we simply said we didn't want a car that had been previously wrecked.  He asked my friend to show him, after which he got very rude calling us liars and asking us in not so polite words to leave.  During the whole instance I had total peace without even my emotions getting riled at the behavior, because I had already begun to thank God for answering my prayer for giving me that definite answer for which I had prayed.   I continued thanking Him for things like the bonding between my friends during the journey, for the gift of service from my friend in Dub and his teaching us key things to enable us to check engines ourselves.  In fact, by the end of the day, I had been thanking God to such a degree that I was so full of faith, 

                            I was experiencing peace 

about other bigger emotionally fueled issues that I will face in this coming year.  I may not have come home with a car, but I was at rest and it didn't even seem to matter where the day or petrol costs went.  I can trust God with these things.

Are you ready to find rest?  In those toughest, most emotional times, will you begin to thank Him?  If you cannot thank Him yet for specific things regarding the situation because of emotional wounds, can you at least thank Him for the little things?  Just thank Him, and begin to experience His REST.

Praying through Lent

We are a few weeks into Lent already.  Some people have set restrictions during this time to help them recognize the sacrifice that was made for us.  Others choose by themsleves something to give up, whether it be a bad behavior or just the daily cup of joe, for the same reason.  Looking through all my friends' Facebook statuses over the last few years, I have even seen some people actually pick up something new instead of dropping something in honor of the season.  These things are usually spiritually edifying things like daily Bible readings or acts of service for others.

Even now, mid-lenten season, I would challenge ye to consider doing both.  Sacrifice five minutes of your day and pick up prayer.  God loves it!  David sings in Psalm 141:2...

May my prayer be set before you like incense;
may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice. 

I've written about 24-7 Prayer before, having attended the yearly gathering that brings folk from all over Europe together to pray for our continent and countries.  The account from last year's event is here.  For this Lent, the lads from 24-7 have put together Prayer Spaces, daily video podcasts for the 40 days of Lent.

Walk through the life of Jesus with daily inspiration from Pete Greig, Carla Harding, Etienne Piek and others.  From Ash Wednesday through Easter morning, you will be sure to enjoy these moments with God.  Let's pray together, shall we?

The podcast is free and is available through iTunes, Facebook and YouTube.  

Each video is also available at the 24-7 Prayer website.