The Children's Crusade by Ann Packer

   In A Children's Crusade, we have not entered the Holy Land. We have simply embarked upon a disastrous journey. We have misjudged and been misguided.

   I fear I lack the heart needed to endure the Blair family drama, especially one that doesn't redeem itself in the end, at least in any gratifying way. 

   I'm missing the purpose of an ending that says, "sell the house, do your own thing, and do what most preserves your personal interests." Yes, we are nation of adolescent novelists, forever seeking novelty.

   Or maybe, I missed the arrival of modern day man, who so neatly arranges for his own redemption. So far, I've not yet met anyone who can redeem himself. 

   Packer dismisses faith from the fabric of the Blair family life. Faith is nothing to the Blair family, yet most of our planet claims a faith. How can the reviews claim Packer's spoken to us? 

 

   No matter the scores of positive reviews, A Children's Crusade is neither gratifying, nor edifying, nor eloquent. Packer kept me up to read something that only filled me with angst: not peace, not wisdom, not joy, not sorrow, just angst and aggravation. I rarely get worked up about books I dislike; I simply set them down. I rarely engage in negative reviews, and I don't write Amazon reviews, but I will not be conned into believing that trashy talk is necessary to develop Packer's characters, nor indeed, that she's developed them, at least into people of any depth. They are simply good actors.

   In some novels, the trash and trash talk may be necessary, and possibly impress upon us the pain, but A Children's Crusade lacks the shimmer of a mosaic that makes broken beautiful.

   The great artists keeps us from frozenness, from smugness, from thinking the truth is in us, rather than in Christ our Lord. ~ Madeleine L'Engle

Lenten Mystery

There are two moments that matter. One is when you know your one and only life is absolutely valuable and alive. The other is when you know your life, as presently lived, is entirely pointless and empty. You need both of them to keep you going in the right direction. Lent is about both.  ~Richard Rohr

 

This Lent I'm doing my best to dig deep. I want to make space for God in yet deeper places within. I'm questioning, not Jesus, but what I believe and how I am shaped. Do the gospels define my Jesus or does the current Christian culture?

This past weekend, I attended the Faith and Culture Writer's Conference. I may, or may not, write more on my experience at some later date. I will say, I met prideful people there and an incredible amount of humble people. I struggled with moments of immense angry pride, but I also had moments of incredible humility. Within me, within us all, is the capability for both. I wonder: Are people who are passionate about something more likely to swing from pride to humility in great wild waves? I dare say, I think they might just have those inklings. I pray God will help me choose humility. I pray to stay thirsty.

From Walking on Water, Reflections on Faith and Art by Madeleine L'Engle:

Each time an unexpected discovery is made in the world of knowledge, it shakes the religious establishment of the day. Now, we are often taught that it is unfaithful to question traditional religious beliefs, but I believe we must question them continually - not God, not Christ, who are at the center of our lives as believers and creators - but what human beings say about God and about Christ; otherwise, like those of the church establishment of Galileo's day, we truly become God's frozen people. Galileo's discoveries did nothing whatsoever to change the nature of God; they threatened only man's rigid ideas of the nature of God. We must constantly be open to new revelation, which is another way of hearing God, with loving obedience. 

 Revelation. Listening. Humility. 

Remember-the root of the word humble and human is the same: humus: earth. We are dust. We are created; it is God who made us and not we ourselves. But we are made to be co-creators with our maker.

The great artists keep us from frozenness, from smugness, from thinking that the truth is in us, rather than in God, in Christ our Lord. They help us know that we are often closer to God in our doubts than in our certainties, that it is all right to be like the small child who constantly asks: Why? Why? Why? (L'Engle 1980)

We are working to keep our child like wonder.

 

Meet Jack.

 

Jack is a 15 week old (we think) kitten. He was found in the ditch near our piano teacher's house, and they were not going to be able to keep him. He literally walked up to our vehicle and found us. He purrs instantly the moment you pick him up. He lets you cradle him like a baby. He lets you wipe off his paws when he's been outside. (Seriously, if God ever had a cat for us, this is the one.) He's exhausted tonight, but within 4 hours of bringing him home, he was the boss. What dog? They already share the same water bowl and drink from it together. Did I mention, I will be vacuuming every day for the rest of my life? I guess I'm going to call that my cardio workout. Yep. He's a pocket full of sunshine in our spring, along with the full rainbow I saw today, and the four doves on my run. God speaks. Today.