End of Summer reading

This has been the summer of the novel for me. I couldn't bring myself to rest and heal without a distraction. My book wishlist that I started building before Christmas has been struck through in short order, and several were too good to keep to myself. So if you are facing an end of summer beach trip or a last ditch effort at a tan, may I put forward for your reading pleasure:

The Last Telegram by Liz Trenow - A quick read about a british woman who inherits her family's silk factory during WWII. Along the same vein as The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Annie Barrows and Mary Ann Schaffer {also a favorite}.

Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks - Another historical fiction about a small village as it copes with the plague. Brilliantly written - I plan on hunting down more of her books.

Enchantments by Kathryn Harrison - The story of Rasputin's daughter from her childhood with the infamous healer and the fall of the Russian monarchy to her career as a lion tamer {who could make that up??}. A slightly heavier read than the first two.

The Book Thief by Markus Zuzack - An orphaned girl's journey in Nazi Germany, the point of view is unusual and requires some getting used to, but the characters are deep. It gave me a new appreciation for what it might have been like to live under that regime and balance sympathy and your family's safety.

Moving out of historical fiction:
Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson - could be entitled "how to come of age in your 70's," the characters deal in real issues and have honest failures. Her style is tragically humorous.

Little Bee by Chris Cleave - my heaviest read on the list, but a compelling look at the casualties of African civil war.

The two guilty pleasures:
World War Z by Max Brooks - run out to read this one before Brad Pitt messes it up! Zombies are not at all my thing, and I probably won't read another zombie novel, but Brooks' dissection of world cultures and how they would respond to an offensive crisis is brilliant.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin - so far a 5 book series with the promise of 2 more. These books are hot right now, and they should be. A fantasy world as realistic as Earth itself {dare I say on par with Middle Earth??}. A word of warning: these are grisly books, full of war-time violence.

My pregnancy tradition:
Our Covenant with Kids by Timothy Sisemore - I read this every pregnancy to get my mind and heart back on track, focused on the end game not the daily process. An excellent way to prepare for a new little one or to find new strength with existing kiddos. Others like it: Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp

Finally, sermons by Spurgeon, 5 minutes of worshipful doctrine to right orient my heart. Free as an eBook.


The girls also made some marvelous library discoveries that will have to come another day.

Happy reading, mommas!

To bloom in native bower

I read this article the other day quoting an interview with Michelle Obama. The first lady casually observed that staying home with her girls could be boring. She enjoyed her work outside of the home and was glad to juggle both. {my paraphrase}

Any time someone describes your day-in, day-out work as boring, hackles raise. Boring connotes dullness, weariness, devoid of challenge or excitement. As if I sit around all day wondering what to do while my children buzz about their lives {anyone who has met a child can guess that isn't a mom's day}.

Boring. It irks me. I hear the same sentiment rephrased by so many people: That might be alright for you, but I need something more. I can't just be a stay at home mom. And I want to lash back with how difficult my day is, and how I keep my mind active, and how important my family is.

Then a little voice says, Aren't you bored sometimes? What about when big one insisted on singing "Old MacDonald had a Farm" every second she was strapped into a car seat for a year?! After months of coming up with animals to imitate {our MacDonald runs an exotic farm}, did I not dread hearing 'Mommy, we sing I-O-I-O'? Am I not bored during the 4th daily kitchen clean up? or the 400th time reading through 'Corduroy'? {yes, yes, I love that book too. I just don't want to read it again... ever}

Our daily rhythm is full of beautiful moments, but that isn't our whole day. So many hours are monotonous busyness, getting-life-done moments. Common. Mundane.

And I am ashamed of how small my world is.

And I wonder why anyone asks about my day knowing that it is mostly messes I cleaned up and phonics I over-emphasized.

Blogging is hard from this perspective. Life is hard from this perspective. Who wants to feel small and tedious?

But boring has blessing.

I once heard, now I don't remember where, that we are never more like Jesus than when we are serving. My small life presents endless opportunity for Jesus practice: serving clueless people who don't understand most of what you say. Pouring out self only to face more demands. It's exhausting work.  Daily meekness lessons.

But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace. Psalm 37:11

This momma practice of decreasing has the potential to mirror God in detail mostly missed this side of heaven.

And my joy comes not from my children, but from seeing God increase.

Only in a kingdom where the king takes off his robe to wash the feet of homeless men, momma lives of unwanted chores are turned to brilliant lighthouses. Only in God's other worldly values is mommahood a cherished career with value immeasurable.

Not because we work so hard. Or because our children are the future. But because we are allowed Jesus practice. Our service points to the servant king.

In "Prayers for Children," I found this:

God, make my life a little light within the world to glow: a little flame that burneth bright wherever I may go.
God make my life a little flower that giveth joy to all, content to bloom in native bower, although the place be small.
~~M. Betham-Edwards

Maybe a prayer for mommas as well. Content to serve an enormous God in a small world.