2019 Book List

Merry Christmas and happy new year! It's hard to believe another year of reading has come and gone. I remain amazed that so many books can be completed over the course of a year, just by ingesting small bits at a time. I accepted this challenge some years ago when I heard other ladies talk about reading little by little, and chronicling the titles for that year. People tell me they enjoy this yearly book list, and it makes me happy to share the joy of reading with others. Let me remind you that as much as I love to read, I actually don't spend the majority of my day doing it. This continues to be proof that slow and steady wins the race.

This list is of books I've completed in 2019, not including the Bible, chapters of Charlotte Mason's series, articles from Karen Andreola's fantastic issues of The Parents' Review, and a magazine I greatly enjoy but have little time to read, Table Talk. I hope you will find some of the titles and descriptions intriguing. Starred titles are ones that my children and I read together.

2019 Book List

A New Song by Jan Karon (1997). Yes, it’s another Mitford series book…only it doesn’t take place in Mitford! I wondered how the author could have the audacity, until I became wrapped up in Father Tim’s interim job as priest at St. John’s, off the NC coast. The Mitford crew isn’t altogether abandoned, and I was surprised to become endeared to the gang in Whitecap so quickly. It seems that delight is found wherever Father Tim and Cynthia go…how could there have been any doubt?!

God is in the Manger by Dietrich Bonhoeffer (compiled 2010). I look forward to reading this book every day, starting at the beginning of Advent, and ending on Epiphany, Jan. 6. It’s a joy to set aside a few quiet moments each day during this time to read Bonhoeffer’s ideas on Scripture, put with excerpts of his letters and sermons. 

The Masterpiece by Francine Rivers (2018). Just when I think this author can’t get any better, she does it again! When Grace Moore becomes private assistant to reckless, moody artist Roman Velasco, they never imagine having anything in common. Slowly, both come to realize God’s redemption in healing two painful, broken pasts. 

The Radium Girls by Kate Moore (2017). In a word…WOW!! This is the powerful story of women who painted clock dials with radium in two different factories during and after WWI, and the horrific suffering they incurred as a result of poisoning. Told from the points of view of the women, this book reads like a riveting biography, not as a scientific book of research.

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality by Peter Scazzero (2006). I love Pastor Pete’s vulnerability about the religion he had versus a mature relationship with Christ. Through real life examples from his own experience, he encourages readers to pursue spiritual maturity. While an easy read, this is a hard call to deep change. 

The Soul of Shame by Curt Thompson, MD (2015). This book is an excellent complement to Scazzero’s book, with a focus on shame. I have never heard shame examined so deeply. Thompson gives neurobiological explanations behind what happens to our brains in dealing with shame, but primarily focuses on what shame is, and gives readers confidence to begin healing from it. This book isn’t for those who can recall traumatic events, but rather for everyone, as shame builds from the slow, daily things that we often ignore or don’t realize. This is one of the most powerful, narrow-road, life-changing books I’ve ever read.

Hissing Cousins by Marc Peyser and Timothy Dwyer (2015). The title is continued as The Untold Story of Eleanor Roosevelt and Alice Roosevelt Longworth. I saw this in the library and it caught my attention. These women were first cousins, brought up very closely, yet complete opposites in personality and politics. I found myself irritated with both for many reasons, yet enjoyed learning about them. I would recommend this as an interesting look into the sad, dysfunctional details of the Roosevelt family.

*Leave it to Beaver by Beverly Cleary (1960). This book is based on the old TV show, which has always been one of my favorites, and now my children and I enjoy watching episodes together. We love the hilarious scrapes that Beaver and Wally get into, and the funny, old expressions they use. I found this and another similar Beaver book online several years ago, and was surprised that Cleary had written them. Reading a chapter of this book aloud together before bedtime is a nice way to end the day. 

Beverly Cleary: A Girl From Yamhill by Beverly Cleary (1988). What a captivating autobiography this beloved author has presented! Many events of her childhood mirror situations that happen to her well-known characters of Ramona, Ellen Tebbits, and Henry Huggins. There are many scary, unfortunate parts of her childhood that Cleary also describes. The book only covers her life until age 18, and the end is abrupt; thankfully there is a sequel!

*Carry a Big Stick by George Grant (1996). This biography of Theodore Roosevelt is part of the Ambleside Online Year 5. Its rich vocabulary and description proved to be a challenge not only to my children, but also to me! What a fascinating man TR was, with his love of nature, the books he wrote, his full family life, his friendships, and of course, his life in politics. I especially enjoyed reading about the letters he wrote and journal entries, and how well-read he was. 

*George Washington Carver: Man’s Slave Becomes God’s Scientist by David Collins (1981). This book from the Sower’s Series is a rich, easy read. What an inspiring life Carver led as a learner and lover of God and nature! This living book is an ideal way to teach science and history.

*Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. What a shame that our schools and society create the idea that Shakespeare is to be dreaded, or is somehow too hard to understand! I read this play in high school and made a 61 on the test. This time around, reading for pleasure’s sake with my children in the safety of our own school, I actually understood and enjoyed it. I’m grateful that my children (who are four and five years younger than I was when I failed the multiple choice test) had a different experience than my first; theirs included small portions of reading, with narration and ideas. This play wasn’t something to “get through” quickly and pass a test, but rather a work to spend almost a whole school year reading and pondering, getting to know the characters and their plights. 

*King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table edited by Sidney Lanier (1950). We read the stunning edition from the Illustrated Junior Library over the course of an entire school year. There’s no way to pore over this challenging volume except slowly and deliberately. I was surprised to love this book, with its knights, jousting, damsels in distress, forest hideaways, royalty, swooning, hermits that provide shelter, and dwarfs that give aid. How many people have heard of this tale, yet have never actually read it from beginning to end? I recommend an edition in medieval-sounding English, which is part and parcel to the story. 

Papa’s Wife by Thyra Ferre Bjorn (1955). I love the books about Mama and Papa, but started reading them out of order. In this first book, we meet Pastor Franzon as he and his wife, Maria, meet, marry, and later leave Sweden for America with their children. The reader can’t help but be captivated by the family’s charming antics, and the descriptions of Swedish customs and foods.

What Your Childhood Memories Say About You by Kevin Leman (2007). This is an okay book for someone just starting an emotional healing journey, but those farther down the road may require something deeper. The author spends a lot of time endearing himself to his reader. I wanted more depth and fewer stories about the author. He does a decent job of pointing out the basics of beginning healing, but could’ve used fewer words.

Bob Newhart by Jeff Sorensen (1988). It’s strange for someone my age to have an interest in a guy like Bob Newhart, but I’ve always liked his 1980’s comedy, “Newhart.” As adults, my husband and I enjoy the reruns and appreciate Newhart’s dry wit. When I grabbed this book at a sale, my friend remarked that I was probably the only one who’d picked it up the whole time. She might be right, but others are missing out. Bob Newhart  has led an interesting life and career, and the author does a good job of describing the highlights.

Mother Culture for a Happy Homeschool by Karen Andreola (2018). My friend Karen has done it again: Here’s another soothing, uplifting, meaty read for homeschooling moms who don’t want to be bound to the status quo. To say that I love anything she writes is no exaggeration. This book, like her others, provides refreshing guidance and doable, simple ways to create freedom in homeschooling and “mother culture.” I will enjoy going back to this volume again and again. Thanks, Karen!

A Common Life by Jan Karon (2001). There’s always comfort in a Mitford book. This one is about the wedding of Father Tim and Cynthia, and how they and all of Mitford feel about the big event. As with anything in this series, my heart is warmed, and I don’t want it to end.

Village School by Miss Read (Dora Jessie Saint) (1955). I learned about Miss Read’s Fairacre series from Karen Andreola’s Mother Culture, and when I saw that Jan Karon recommended it, I knew it would be good. I admit it took me a couple of chapters to get into it, but as I kept on, I grew endeared to Miss Read, her pupils, and the people of Fairacre in England. This book has the warmth, coziness, quirky characters, and descriptive language that Mitford lovers enjoy. I can’t wait to read the next one, and Miss Read has a long list of titles waiting!

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith (1998). How glad I am that a dear friend told me about Mma Ramotswe, Botswana’s only lady detective! Not only are her capers captivating, but so are the customs of southern Africa. The author mixes heartbreaking details of Mma’s past with interesting tales of her current life, making this a fast, exciting read.

The Burden is Light! by Eugenia Price (1954). This vintage volume was spotted at a book sale, and my interest was piqued from the beginning by the first sentence: “I was born once and thirty-three years later I was born a second time.” Every follower of Christ will appreciate Genie’s story of how she came to know Him personally. I love the old-time descriptions, and the fact that she was from my dad’s hometown of Charleston, WV. 

Tears of the Giraffe by Alexander McCall Smith (2000). The second book about Mma Ramotswe and her detective agency is as enchanting as the first. Her cases keep the reader interested, as well as twists in her personal life. The orphan children and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni are especially endearing. 

12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You by Tony Reinke (2017). The author has done extensive research on the effects that the smartphone has on our lives. He writes from a Christian perspective, giving practical insights about the overuse of our phones, and suggestions for better stewardship. The tone is understanding, not preachy, as Reinke himself admits to seasons of phone addiction. This is an easy read that applies to everyone, regardless of smartphone use patterns.

Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey by The Countess of Carnarvon (2011). This book written by the current Lady Carnarvon describes in fascinating detail the time when the 5th Earl and his wife Almina lived at Highclere Castle. Although the series “Downton Abbey” is based on this place and family, there are many differences. I enjoyed the historical events of the time period, especially Almina’s work in running a hospital in the castle during WWI.  

A Tree for Peter by Kate Seredy (1941). Utterly charming with twists of sad and sweet, this little book is full of warmth and joy. It is the story of little Peter and how he overcomes the fear and darkness that enshroud the shantytown where he lives. Ideal for older elementary/middle school students, but a treasure for adults, too!

Don't forget The Cloud of Witness, lovingly republished by Nancy Kelly in 2015. I love this volume, but just didn't get to it as much this year as I would've liked. I've been more intentional as the year draws to a close, as this sweet book brings such richness in poetry and verses. If you want to get into poetry but aren't sure where to start, this provides a good daily dose. 

Finally, I was grateful to receive several books for Christmas, but found two especially charming. Chiquito y Cola Rizada is second in the Children of the Americas series, published in 1957. It's more than a textbook, putting Spanish words into simple yet rich phrases and dialogues that are meaningful and get beyond elementary Spanish. This series is ideal for teaching my children as well as the students in my homeschool group class. 

And would you believe that this lovable book of West Virginia Stories and Biographies was tucked into my Christmas stocking? My husband has adopted the custom every Christmas of going to the same antique mall and hunting for at least two old books for me. This WV book was published in 1937 for use in that state's schools, and would lend itself wonderfully to narration. I've read some of it by the dim light of my bed at night; who knew there were once herds upon herds of buffalo in West Virginia? Also in my stocking was a small blue leather Ivanhoe, which the girls and I may read next school year. 

Happy new year (and much happy reading!) to you!

A New Name and Look!

Greetings! This is the same blog you're used to, only with a new name! "Repaired Wall" is the name of our homeschool, as well as a way of life. Like He used Nehemiah to tear down and rebuild walls, God uses us to do the same thing in our lives. I hope we will continue to spur each other on as we seek His help in doing that.

This summer has brought joy and sorrow. I took a walk alone one day, and stopped to stare at two rabbits:

I received a loving gift from my friend Joy, an entire mandarin orange cake just for me. It tastes like a creamsicle, and is juicy like a fruit drink! 

 It's my custom to freeze cake. Whenever I'm left with almost a whole cake, I cut it in generous slices, and wrap each one individually in foil. Then I place these pieces in a big Ziploc bag labeled with whatever flavor the cake is. When I have a guest or just feel like a treat, it's easy to pop out a piece or two, leave it on the counter a few moments to thaw, then microwave it if it's still too cold. You'll never waste cake again!

Precious Daisy was our doggie friend whose owner, Dottie, works at the racquet club. Daisy was faithfully there for the years we've been going for tennis. Sadly, an accident occurred in the parking lot last month, and Daisy did not survive. We were heartbroken, and cried along with Dottie. God gave us animals as wonderful companions. Just the day before the accident, I had been able to enjoy extra-special time sitting with Daisy, patting and talking to her. Everyone at the club misses her terribly. 

On a lighter note, but still on the tennis topic, would you believe that one of our favorite courts on which to practice is situated right beside a field of cows? That's what you get in western North Carolina. Don't mistake a score-call for a moo! 

I was actually standing on a court when I shot this photo. My children will surely remember growing up playing tennis next to cows! It's a charming scene that also includes a playground, library, and town hall.

I surprised myself all school year by liking King Arthur as much as I did. This edition by Sidney Lanier is written in very hard-to-understand English, yet understand it, we did. All I did was read it aloud, and my children and I were able to figure out the meaning, even if we couldn't have come up with that fancy language ourselves. This volume of knights, damsels, dwarfs, jousts, castles, hermits, horses, and weapons is truly a treasure. We spent an entire school year reading it. Incidentally, I've found the same to be true when reading works we perceive to be "difficult," like Plutarch's Lives or Shakespeare. Just read, and glean what you can take away. You'll be surprised how much your children (and you!) take away!

When my dad was still in restorative care early this month healing slowly from surgery, he noticed that his sister sounded weak and tired over the phone. She had battled cancer since the early 2000's, but always seemed to move forward and bounce back from treatments. Never did she complain, always looking on the bright side, and lately, she did a lot of traveling. It was surprising when she took a sudden turn for the worse, and shortly after her doctor said there was nothing more to be done, hospice was called. This happened in a matter of days. 

Aunt Susan never lived close, but she never seemed far away. She was a star on Opryland's early stage, and later in charge of the park's entertainment. Several years after it closed, she made a fresh start at Disneyland in California. How we treasure the sweet trinkets she sent over the years from there! I look around my house and see many reminders of her. I wear the cute apron she sewed for me this past Christmas. God made Aunt Susan special; she slipped out of her pain on July 10, and we can't believe it. You never want a loved one to suffer, yet death can come so suddenly. May we all be ready to run into Christ's arms! 

Here was my view when I spoke to Laura, Aunt Susan's daughter, the morning of her passing: 

It was around 6:20am Eastern time, so you can figure it was dark and early for where Laura was in California. We've only lived in this house four months, but already this has become my place. This is what I see from my porch bench. Here, I sit and listen to squirrels rustling through leaves, birds twittering in the trees, and the breeze swaying the limbs. I watch those ferns dance back and forth. I laugh and cry, talk out loud to God, write pages in my journal, make hard phone calls, ask friends for intercession over texts, savor coffee, close my eyes, ponder God's Word...all at this vantage point, on the bench my kind step-father Jim restored for me. Since that sad, early morning, I always think of Aunt Susan when I go out there. A bird cried out in glorious song, and Laura could hear it over the phone. She said it sounded like her mom.

I was so glad for the company of dear friends that night. Liz and Burney are some of the most gracious, easygoing people I know. We love to have them over for dinner and Trivial Pursuit, men versus women, with our girls helping both sides. Our games last so long, we end up not finishing. Burney roasts his own beans and supplies the after-dinner coffee. That evening, he brought an extra treat: 

These are little potatoes from his garden, even the purplish things. He made purple mashed potatoes! They were delicious! I'd never had that before. How intriguing to dish out a heaping mound of what looks like blueberry fluff, only to find that it's mashed potatoes! Liz and Burney know something about everything, and are full of surprises. They cheered me up that night.

A few days later, I went to see my dad, who is finally at home after six weeks, but still confined to a wound-vac. This is a machine that helps heal an infection from the inside out. I stopped to see my almost-one hundred year-old grandmother, who remains independent. I still love going to her house. Talk about memories all over the place! 

Look at this kitchen! 

Don't you just love it?

One thing my grandmother likes to do for my children is give them cash. Here she is, writing their names on envelopes where she had stashed the dinero: 

Isn't she something? Is this house cool, or what?

And I have to show you one more thing that goes with the house: 

 Isn't this the cutest little old doghouse? 

I was feeling so nostalgic, I just had to catch a glimpse of my old school, St. Paul's Catholic. I have fabulous memories of this place. 

We had an African-American janitor there named Ernest, and his mother also worked with him. They were quiet and kind. The Catholic Bishop of the Diocese at that time was also named Ernest. When we had mass and the priest routinely prayed for "Ernest our Bishop and all the clergy," my friend Jennie and I couldn't quite figure out why he devoted special prayer specifically for Ernest the janitor, but didn't name any other teachers or staff, or at least the principal. We decided that "Bishop" was a fancy word for janitor, and that "all the clergy" must include his mom and others who worked at the school. For anyone who loves Beverly Cleary's Ramona, you recall a similar mixup that she had. "Oh, say can you see, by the dawnzer lee light," she sang every morning. A dawnzer surely must be a lamp; it gives a lee light. 

And finally, this place is on the other side of the school, on Dean Street in Spartanburg: 

It's old and beautiful, and when I was a kid, I dreamed I lived in it. I imagined walking from school right home, changing out of my uniform, and watching cartoons, eating junk food. I just had to include this captivating old place.

Until next time!

We love you Aunt Susan!

Susan Luers Burtnett Bablove

1952-2019

Coming Down From Chaos

When you've had a succession of busy days or months (or years), do you feel the need to "come down" from the chaos? I certainly do! The things filling up this time might all be good, but even so, they leave me breathless and desperate for a rest. God made our bodies to need rest, and He demonstrated this by resting after creating the universe. Jesus confirmed that the Sabbath was made for our rest. But, boy...it can be hard to stop!

The funny thing is, it can take me a while to rest, even on rest days! I find myself finding it hard to settle down all morning, and not really "resting" until two or three in the afternoon! In his book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, Peter Scazzerro addresses this in detail. He speaks to the fact that although it's counterculture these days to stop and rest (he even calls it "doing nothing"), God's design for us never changes. We're left tired because we go, go, go. 

Isn't this little spread lovely? Several weary women flopped down at this outdoor table one Thursday evening some weeks ago. We chatted, laughed, shared stories, threw in some talk about Charlotte Mason's methods, and enjoyed each others' company. What refreshment!

Back to the busyness. The past few months have consisted of us deciding to downsize, getting rid of stuff (where did all of that come from??), launching into a whirlwind adventure of a fast house sale and buying one half its size, having a charming three-week respite at Ravenswood (see past post), then moving to our sweet tucked-away, over-fifty-year-old "new" house. 

Somehow we started back with school, then the month of May brought three tennis tournaments, two of which are big, special, out-of-town ones. As much as our family enjoys the sport and our daughters love to play, we are intentional about participating just once or twice a month. However, May is always the busy tennis month, and this year proved challenging because of our tiredness from the move. This is what prompted me to reevaluate the Sabbath, making sure that we are intentional about keeping days of rest. Per Scazzero's encouragement, I also like to take mini-moments of rest throughout the day. I've been known to drop my cares outside:

Poetry is something I'm also learning to love. Homeschooling has done that for me; my own experience in school caused me to dread poetry, as I was forced to write it while uninspired, or pick it apart for something my teacher was looking for. How refreshing it is to experience it for poetry's sake, to use it for cursive practice, and for our enjoyment of something beautiful:

May also brought several end-of-year activities, which meant planning and preparing. I felt sometimes like I was drowning in a fog, thinking about school, laundry, menu planning, cleaning, and when to practice for all those tournaments. These things that I love on a regular basis started to suffocate me. The devil loves to do this to us, take things in which we normally delight, and cause them to create havoc in our lives. I daily had to step back and breathe. Normally, we don't live activity to activity, in a state of chaos. No wonder people these days are frazzled, with no time. I had to purposely get lost in the roses: 

I said yes to my mom's invitations to the lake, even when there was housework and other stuff to do. 

Who wouldn't be invigorated after an afternoon at this place? There's no question that the hot South Carolina sun, the wind whipping my face and hair on a boat ride, and Jim's hot dogs followed by the ever-expected ice cream sandwich, all contribute to putting my brain back in order. 

One of our tournaments was in Greensboro. We found a cottage from 1900 in Winston-Salem, and stayed there for the weekend. The neighborhood is being revitalized, and houses over a century old are coming back to life: 

On the Saturday morning of our stay, I relished some moments on the front porch, praying and reading Scripture, enjoying the view of an old street, gazing at the big, red house across on the corner, and examining a blue jay who became my momentary companion.

During this time of unusual busyness, my dad developed an infection that landed him unexpectedly in surgery and in a long recovery, where he still is. Another thing continuously looming about in my mind is church. As our move put us over 40 minutes from our church home, we've been searching closer to where we live. I've long desired for church and community to be in the same place, and the search for a church home is neither easy nor a quick process. We've been surprised by the idea of home church, and are exploring this with great care and lots of prayer. 

Alongside all the activity and mind exercise, I've suffered physical anxiety and been very near to panic. People respond to stress in different ways. My stomach takes a beating, and in extreme times, I launch into a fog, losing focus, feeling short of breath and almost like an elephant is standing on my chest. There has been lots of prayer, and lots of stopping to regain focus. 

Thankfully during this time, my daughter made homemade monkey bread! 

When we were putting our house on the market, I had a few moments of tears as I sat in my cherished "red room." This room is where I started my days, at my grandmother's old secretary desk, after prayer in a yellow chair I bought some years ago at an antique store. I couldn't bear the thought of giving up my red room, and prayed for a new spot, one that I'd enjoy just as much.

This photo of my grandmother's living room was taken sometime in the 1970's: 

I remember when this furniture was reupholstered. It was around 1984, because I was about eight years old. I went into the house, and the room was empty. When I inquired about the furniture's whereabouts, my joking Papi said that some man had come by and said it was his, and had taken it. I knew better.

This furniture was acquired by my great uncle, Narcy Quintero, in New Jersey. Evidently, a friendly neighbor old lady left it to him, and she had gotten it from England. He offered it to my grandmother, who had to pay a whopping $25 to have it shipped to South Carolina. And the rest is history.

That furniture (still covered in the upholstery from '84) now sits in my new special place, the room that is the answer to my prayers:

 ...and I still spend my quiet times at the secretary: 

It's among these things that I'll be taking some good, long rests for the rest of this week. The final trip for a while was a four-day stint in Cary, the home of an incredible tennis facility where my daughter played in a southern level junior tournament. She kept winning, so we kept staying! I love the buzz of excitement at these events, the friendships made between girls and their parents, and the fellowship of seeing these friends, especially those we've gotten to know from all over our state of North Carolina. The competition was fantastic, and the time spent with my girls was wonderful. The highlight of the trip was watching my daughter play on a stadium court, with its own chair umpire calling the score! 

But now we're home, and are purposefully taking the next few days off from much of anything. I think I'll need several days to "come down" from it all!

Until next time...

Shame & Vulnerability

Aren't they serene? I have wished often for quietness of mind, and there's much behind this that I've discovered over the past few years. Currently, I'm wrestling through Curt Thompson's The Soul of Shame. This book is for everyone, since we are all sinners who deal daily with the effects of shame. Most people have no idea of the role that shame has played in our personal disintegration. 

As the Lord uproots this painful shame, I'm drawn to the call to be vulnerable with others and with Christ, rather than allowing certain situations to cause mental paralysis, or "stasis," as Thompson calls it. I've felt this often, the state of almost complete mental breakdown or fog when I feel shame. Just today an incident occurred that required my vulnerability with God, and I feel that it can be further brought into the light by sharing it with you.

One thing to note: It's true that "shameful" incidents aren't necessarily what the world would see as a big deal, or something that seems overly traumatic. The enemy is crafty in setting up years and decades of subtle shaming tactics. 

Because our move put us farther from our beloved Missio Dei Church, our family decided to start the process of finding a church closer to where we now live. As community is vital to vulnerability, we long to be close to our church, able to attend regular functions. We've been attending a church that we really like, and were there today. At the end of the service, my family exited ahead of me. I knew we needed to get home to have lunch and change before an outing the kids were taking, but stayed behind chatting with some kind ladies who had introduced themselves.

When I eventually turned to leave, I noticed that the line out the door was long; the pastor sits at the doorway and shakes everyone's hand as they exit. I realized it would take a while to reach the door if I stood at the end of the line, so I went to the side, bypassing the line. I saw a side door and considered going out of it, but being new, I feared ending up somewhere I didn't want to be, since we still don't know our way around the building. I decided the easiest move was to slip behind the pastor at the door, but this required me to also go past everyone in the line. 

When I reached the doorway I saw a dear acquaintance there with her kids, to whom I said a few words, and I also excused myself for going through the people. For a split second, I turned and faced the people in line, many of whom seemed to be looking at me. I caught a glimpse of Mrs. C--'s sweet, kind face. Suddenly, I had a horrible feeling: I looked like I was breaking in line to see the pastor, rather than simply slipping past the people and out the door to find my family! And just when I attempted to tiptoe behind him, he turned directly to me, and addressed me by name! I wanted to pass out from the shame of seemingly cutting in front of that whole line. Just when I thought I'd squeeze past everyone, Pastor M. looked me squarely in the face!

All I could think was, We're new, and those people will now recognize me as the Lady Who Cuts in Line! I felt sick, wondering why I hadn't gone through that blasted side door. I worried all the way home, feeling the crippling shame described by Dr. Thompson in his book. I knew God was inviting me to walk into this feeling with Him, to have a discussion about what's really happening in my heart. 

This seems to be how healing happens. When I recognize this feeling of shame, I must walk into it with Christ and others rather than suffocating in it alone. I sat by the archway in my new back yard in the sun, looking at the blue sky, green grass, and colorful flowers, and had a transparent talk with Jesus. I told him I worry about being like others who I've seen push their way to the front. I felt like I did twenty years ago when I did just that, and a lady called me on it. I felt like the whole church would now see me as the Lady Who Cuts In and is Inconsiderate (picture that in neon lights). I kept seeing Mrs. C--'s kind face, and Pastor M's, full of grace and understanding, entirely void of condemnation. 

I moved to the bench on my front porch and dared to ask God again to erase the incident (which I describe in detail in another post, God Erases), which led to more discussion. Do I hesitate to believe and receive this because it seems unbelievable? Aren't God's ways indeed infinitely past understanding? Do I feel like asking Him to (again) "erase" it is one time too many, and a copout to boot? If I know that He delights to give me bread and not a serpent, and that He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly above all that I think or ask, why do I hesitate to believe He'll "erase" again and again? Christ talked to His disciples about believing they'd receive, about not having because they didn't ask, and about how it delights the Father to give good gifts to His children.

What I'm writing in this blog is a transcript of a lot that I wrote in my journal. In the journaling part of this process, I was reminded about my friend Pastor Jim's comment to me a while back, that I was "overthinking" another certain situation. Perhaps that's the case here, too; maybe none of those people thought a thing of it. I probably wouldn't have, and if someone else told me this, I may even think it was funny, like something that would happen to Ben Stiller. But to me, who I believe I am is very real. When something bumps up against a shameful spot in my heart, I now want to get to the bottom of it, and stop being in bondage. 

I believe the devil has worked hard to convince me that I have no sense, no social skills, that I'm uncouth and uncultivated. The Lord whispers to me that my deep concern shows the opposite. He and I continued this discussion over ninety minutes. He's teaching me many things, leading me into freedom. I feel like I have to be put in certain situations in order to face my shame and move toward healing it. The very thing I don't want to feel is precisely what I have to face with vulnerability. And by the way...this goes for all of us.

From the mouth of My Savior:

"Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full." John 16:24

"If you ask anything in My name, I will do it." John 14:14

"...whatever things you ask when you pray, believe that you receive them, and you will have them." Mark 11:24

My soul is panting for Him, as the deer pants for water. May it always be so! 

Until next time...

Transition Time

Picturesque little gate at Sandburg Home

It's been too long since I've last posted, the reason being that we decided to sell our house and downsize. Things progressed at lightning speed, and in a day, we'd sold our home and needed to start looking for a smaller one! Lord willing, we'll be in our new home soon. In the meantime, we've been in a transition home, wonderfully situated in quiet Flat Rock, a short walk from the Carl Sandburg Home. 

We have been overcome by the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Kendall Bryan of Jacksonville, and their adult children, in allowing us to rest here for a few weeks while we bridge the gap between houses. What a treat it's been to get to know the grounds where the author and poet Sandburg lived the last thirty-plus years of his life. We've made the most of our short stay here, taking frequent walks to the Sandburg Home, as well as enjoying the yard, and walking also to the post office (to check where our mail now goes!), and to the quaint restaurants and gift shop of Flat Rock.

We've managed to stay in a school routine, as I brought all of the books were reading. I wasn't sure how school would look, but quickly decided we needed the routine. It has been a wonderful learning experience for us in many ways. I picked up two books in the Sandburg gift shop: Rootabaga Stories, from which the girls and I read several nights a week, and Mary Lincoln, Wife and Widow, a thoroughly interesting and captivating biography. How extraordinary to spend time in these works, as well as at the author's home!

Here are some shots I've taken while exploring:

This breathtaking view is part of the street where we're staying. We walk past it to get to Sandburg's home.

On Sunday I explored a new trail on the Sandburg property. I stopped at a bench here, and enjoyed the tranquility for a few moments.

Lots of water on the property means lots of rhododendron!

The tail end of the trail that leads to the back side of the Sandburg Home...

...and this is where I ended up. There is something breathtaking about emerging out of the woods and seeing the Sandburg house; it's so serene and storybook, like a child allowed to play on the kind author's property!

I had been to the Sandburg Home before, but living within walking distance and experiencing it like we have over the past few weeks have made it special for us. This goes right along with a Charlotte Mason life: living books, nature study, fresh air, ideas...we never get tired of it!

I love the green of the farm manager's house, which now houses employees.

My children's favorite part of the property is visiting the goats. A main reason for moving to Flat Rock was the climate, in which Mrs. Sandburg could breed and raise her prize-winning goats. The goats here today are descendants of hers'. They roam freely, and are friendly with visitors. 

Pop John visited and also enjoyed the goats!

Interesting bits of nature that my girls discovered

The charming Sandburg home

The Lord has blessed us richly during our moving transition time. Many thanks again to the Bryan family! What sweet memories we will have!

The back yard at the house where we're temporarily staying. Flat Rock yards are largely covered with moss. This yard is peaceful and safe.

He looks at us through the back windows!

Until next time; hopefully not too long!