Maybe...

Maybe it's sad it took 29 plus years to realize this, but I have a great Dad! He might not be perfect, but no human father ever is. In fact my dad is such a great father I think he is the ideal father for me. So for that, I guess I can thank my Heavenly Father, who is perfect, knows all things, and planned every step of my life before I was even conceived. So thanks Heavenly Father for my earthly father! And thanks Dad for being such a good provider, encourager, and example! You are such a good father my standards are so high I will probably be especially choosey about a lot of things... Well, that's all I want to say. Over and out!

On Living and Dying

Emily Dickenson once began a poem "Heart do not break, they mend and ache..." And it is very true, your heart can be torn, it can be divided, or it can be trampled on, but it does not ever break. It isn't made of porcelain, or even bendable steel. Sometimes you yourself tear a piece out of your own heart and trust that your heart itself will mend. In the Bible it says to guard your heart for out of it comes the wellspring of life. Sometimes I think I have been looking for water in broken cisterns that cannot even hold water.
In the end, something in you has to die, before you can ever be reborn. In the end, you must choose what is your true treasure. Before it is too late, you have to decide who is really in charge of your own life, and then you may realize that your life was really a gift that was not your own at all. And then you may understand that you have been given other gifts too; some that you have buried; others that you have tossed aside, and others that you haven't even discovered yet. Jesus once said "Physician heal thyself" (KJV) and I think his point was that if we want healing we should find the source of the true living water and then journey towards that source until we reach our destination. But then we will also discover it wasn't about the destination at all; it was all about the journey. And really we all want some kind of heavenly city and some kind of garden of peace and joy and hope, and we all want a renewed earth. The world is never ever beyond redemption! Thanks be to God!

The Storm is Over

Yesterday my very good friend came over and stayed overnight. We had a wonderful day together and she was such a blessing to me this past evening. We recited some psalms from memory before sleep, and then she sang me a version of Psalm 91 she learned about ten years ago. Since she was tired she couldn't recite the whole Psalm 91, but she got the beginning and the ending, and from there we remembered most of the middle. I think we forgot "Teach us to number our days aright, so we can gain a heart of wisdom" and maybe some other phrases as well. Naturally my friend could recite Psalm 23 perfectly. She is my friend who consistently prays for me. We tend to decide to call each other at the same time, and we usually call each other at the right time. I got seven hours of sleep last night, and she is still sleeping peacefully. I am so thankful she could visit this weekend! I look forward to a lovely day together!

Back to School

Photo Credit M. den Boer


On Monday I am going back to school after a four week absence. I will complete a total of four out of the original eight courses, and then I will attack the rest in September. I call it the divide and conquer maneuver and I believe it is highly effective... Stay tuned for further developments.

A Minor Annoyance

Yesterday I got a parking ticket on my own street where I always park my car, because my car hadn't been moved for twelve hours. At the time I was ignoring my car and planning for its repairs. What annoys me is that they invent these bylaws they have no way of enforcing fairly and then they proceed to apply them as they are given complaints by the neighbourhood. I don't think the complaint was actually about my car. Yesterday I actually wrote down the license plate of someone parked illegally in front of my house. Was I planning my revenge? I am very annoyed that no one ever comes to a complete stop at the stop sign in front of our house. I think if the police need to raise funds they should have no problem ticketing all these people. I also know that that can't be their priority in my neighbourhood.

Seeing Red without the Rose-coloured Glasses

I have much latent rage nowadays. I am not sure when the volcano will actually erupt, but the rumblings are definitely there. I am angry at men in leadership sometimes (or my own father as the head of the household in which I live), other times I am angry about child abuse and molestation, other times I just burst into tears at the slightest provocation. My doctor could label it as hormones gone amuck I suppose. And I think my anger is covering up a deep hurt.... Actually I know I have a very large wound and that eventually will heal, but in the meantime I have anger and sometimes rage and often tears.

I detest the exploitation of women even in this country, I am enraged by the abuse of children, I abhor when something could have been done to stop the abuse and nothing was done. I can't stand the exploitation of the poor wherever in the world they are. I know that justice can't be done right now, but I wish there was more mercy for all the abused, exploited, and every one else who struggles just to find food or even water... I am angry because I want to be an adult now and handle all this about the world, but I feel completely powerless. Maybe these are all the things that also break God's heart, but he is not powerless at all.

All that is left for me it seems is mere prayer... I say mere prayer in the same sense CS Lewis said "Mere Christianity". In conclusion, I have realized my finiteness and discovered I can only do "small things with great love" (Mother Teresa). I can be salt, light, and God's child... I can be a branch, bearing fruit, attached to a channel of His life, I can be a sheep resting by quiet waters, I can hide in the shelter of the shadow of my Father's wings. And I can pray that in the end justice and mercy will come. I'd rather delay the justice and dispense the mercy for now.

Of All the Things I've Ever Lost...

Grandma had a very unique magnet which read "Of all the things I ever lost, I miss my mind the most." Many things in my grandparents home were unique and special; their wood-burning stove, twisting green carpeted stairs, the little hole in one of the bedrooms beneath the crib where you could see and speak to whoever was in the living room. The front and back porches, the bird houses, the vegetable gardens, the covered spot for a picnic table, the pictures of my uncles and my mother as children, the tree that was just perfect for climbing, the rail road tracks that could shake the whole house when a train went by, the clip clop of the Amish (or was it Mennonite?) black buggies passing by. And then there was Grandpa's greenhouse where he put his grandchildren to work preparing soil, transplanting, or in the case of my brother, using power tools at a very young age. Grandma was sure to have some cookies and juice at our break time, and we would have our big meal at lunch time. I had enough leisure time to reread a Lori Wick series every year, peruse several other interesting books, and to explore around the area... I remember a very interesting cemetery nearby. My favourite part of the week other than receiving my wages, which might have been equally exciting, was when Grandpa took us to the used bookstore and we could pick out five books. That's where I got my copy of Gone With the Wind, my own copy of Little Women, and some interesting comic books. Every year my grandparents would think of some kind of outing we would probably enjoy... Boblo (sp?) Island is the one I recall most vividly.

So of all things I have ever lost the things I miss the most are:

1. My child-like sense of wonder and awe

2. My innocence and steadfast belief in the good motives of others

3. My compassion in which I can enter into the pain someone else is feeling

4. My trust that doesn't need all the answers to be able to relax in the embrace of love.

5. My grandparents themselves including my Opa, and Grandma and Grandpa

6. My confidence that if I try my best, things are going to work out.

7. My sense of purity in thought, emotions, and actions. To compare myself to a stream, I would say the water is somewhat stagnant, murky, and slow moving and manifestly polluted by the foam on the sides of the banks.

Why I loved Freida and spell her name my own way

Freida was really my cat because I took care of her for three weeks while my family was on vacation. Freida was a beautiful cat with long and luxurious fur, much like a wonderful coat. She was a proud cat, and very mean to strangers. But I think this is because Freida realized she was special and beautiful and she belonged in this house.

Actually Freida was given to us because someone else was allergic to her. The problem was she was not at all inviting to strangers. She was a territorial cat who knew she belonged here, but I think her vision was also very poor. Naturally she responded to voices and she probably recognized voices that she knew. The thing with Freida is that she was a little overweight from being overfed, because really she would eat whatever she was given and meow for more. And if you gave her a lot of food she would just eat it all right then. Freida just didn't understand she would be fed again.

And this is the tragedy: Freida couldn't belong in a house where strangers (to her) were coming and going and this where she felt she belonged and in a perfect world she could have stayed. But really when grandchildren are coming to visit, Freida can't be in this house. The grandchildren will only be here for a brief time and they are the most important to this family. We care more about them than about a cat who feels she belongs, but can't be comfortable with any one she doesn't know.

Freida was definitely curious about outside the house, but she only wanted to go out when there was snow, though she never remembered that she actually didn't like the cold. The point is that I loved Freida, I realized I wanted to care for her, but she didn't work in our house. She was given another chance to live somewhere else, but I hope someone who realizes how beautiful she is is the one caring for her now. Because she is a strong aristocratic cat and she needs to belong somewhere where she can be the priority and some one has the patience to train her and speak to her. I doubt Freida is still alive, but she is after all a cat and people are the ones who matter the most to me.

Freida was actually named after a cute character in a children's book named Frieda Fuzzypaws. This character wanted the cookies baking in the oven, but didn't want to eat her two beans that she was supposed to. I guess I am realizing the irony of this story. I would laugh out loud, but I am probably just bemused.

Worlds Apart by Jars of Clay

I'm the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all adds up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard
To leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
To give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
More deeply than the oceans, more abundant than the tears
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch
The blood and water flow
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need
And what I believe are worlds apart, and I pray
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, I am on my knees
To love you, take my world apart
To need you, broken on my knees, on my knees
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
And wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remains
More and more I need you now
I owe you more each passing hour
The battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
And wash the feet and cleanse my pride
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
The sin-soaked heart and make it yours
Take my world all apart
Take it now, take it now
And serve the ones that I despise
Speak the words I can't deny
Watch the world I used to love
Fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
So wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remain
Steal my heart and take the pain
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
Take my world apart, take my world apart
And I pray, and I pray, and I pray
Take my world apart, world apart

When I was seventeen, a friend put this song on a tape for me to listen to in the hospital. I listened to it on my Ipod last night and this morning at 4 am. I think the lyrics speak for themselves, so I won't elaborate on the song's personal meaning.By the way I also like this song musically, but I can't post the actual song as I am ignorant about computers.

Why you should always wear a helmet, especially if your head is not on straight

When I was eighteen, the summer before I started my full-time factory job, I took a summer school course at St. Thomas Moore. Surprisingly I wasn't a very good summer school student; I got my lowest mark ever in high school and only did well on one test that was total review. I didn't study that much either. Every morning that July I would bike to school in my jeans. It was hot and I would get extremely sweaty before I arrived in the air-conditioned school. Since I wasn't a great student, the teacher gave me special accomodations and allowed me longer to take the test. So one morning I was biking to school early so I could begin the test before the other students. I was about to turn into the school when I noticed a car beside me. Stupidly I thought the car was also turning and even more stupidly I thought we could turn at the same time. So the car hit me and I flew over the windshield of the car and landed at the other side of the road; my helmet was split down the middle, I had some scrapes and bruises, but I was basically unhurt. I was ready to go and take my test, but the person whose car I had collided with was very worried and called 911. So the firefighters arrived, and insisted on cutting open my jeans at the knees to inspect the damage. I had to make those jeans into shorts; I was mad about that. Then the paramedics made me go in the ambulance to go to the hospital, although I was basically unhurt. If I remember correctly I later had to pay for the ambulance. The police took my bike as evidence and later gave me a hefty fine for turn without safety as well as points on my driver's license, although at this time I wasn't driving a car.
After a nurse cleaned up my scrapes on my arms and legs, I returned to school that afternoon and took my test. I noticed some of the other students pointing me out as the student who had gotten hit by a car. This story could have been told in a more humorous fashion, as I have had all my coworkers convulsing over the ridiculousness of what I had done. Today it sounds a little more melodramatic, but I am emotional after reading the VE section in the Spectator.
The point of this story is that you should always always wear your helmet, because you could get permanent brain damage should you be hit by a car, or should you hit the car yourself, as in my case. I haven't biked much since this incident, but I still have my bike which is slightly damaged but still rideable.

A Brief Update

Some exciting news: I think I am losing weight! Also I love my hair, my life, and am looking forward to being a real nurse! In other news, I have left Christian Cafe. I think I know a good man now when I see one. And they aren't all already taken!

The Evolution of this Blog

A few days ago I was reading over many of my blog posts. I realized my posts have gotten a lot briefer and a lot less thoughtful. There was a time when I considered deleting this blog, but I don't think I could do that. I am proud of some of my posts and others remind of when I used to be a whole lot more passionate about life and about God. Rereading the posts reminded me of some of my visions for life. I also looked over my dream book recently, which my friend bought for me to fill up with my dreams. In it I started some pages about the fruits of the Spirit with biblical quotes and specific goals and a dream statement for each fruit. I also wrote down my dreams for my future husband and started some pages about random things like travel, writing, children, and biblical studies. There was no page about becoming a nurse and very little detail about anything except the fruits of the spirit and my description of my future husband, to which I added the necessary caveat "should he ever appear."
There are some posts I have deleted, including the one that probably was the most read due to its subject matter. Other ones I viewed as too negative, or too revealing.
Also my blog is a record of a hard time in my life around three years ago. I wouldn't really know what happened when if I didn't have the blog record.
I think that in my back of my mind I always imagined that my future husband would someday read my blog. But then I've always been a romantic at heart. Well, it's late and this writing has been interrupted by a phone call from an old friend so I will wrap things up. I'll just say that I hope this blog can be revived and that the quality of writing will improve.

Pondering this today:

The Heidelberg Catechism

Lord's Day 10
27 Q What do you understand by the providence of God?
A. Providence is
the almighty and ever present power of God
by which he upholds as with his hand,
heaven and earth
and all creatures,
and so rules them that,
leaf and blade,
rain and drought,
fruitful and lean years,
food and drink,
health and sickness,
prosperity and poverty—
all things, in fact, come to us
not by chance
but from his fatherly hand.

Wondering: Can we say that mental illness could be considered a gift from God's hand? If it shapes you into the person you are? If it shifts the course of your life? If all things will work out for your good?

Becoming a Nurse

I am very close to finishing my first semester of my Practical Nursing program. So much theory, so many skills, and so much knowledge can be taught, but some qualities and attitudes cannot be learned in a classroom... they must be already there, or at least they must be incubating, ready to emerge. I am confident in the classroom learning theory, or taking a multiple choice test, or writing a paper, but when it comes to hands-on work, applying what I have learned to what I do, when it comes to displaying the caring that I know is within me, I lack self-assurance and I falter. I have never had to apply my education to practical hands-on work to this degree before. In my previous jobs, as a receptionist, an order desk clerk, and as a long-time nursery worker, when I faced challenges, I didn't feel like the same capable person as I am in academic pursuits. My nursery job wasn't particularly challenging, so I didn't have a lot of instances of self-doubt, but my first office job certainly wasn't confidence-building. How can I learn to be confident, self-assured, capable, and caring, as I continue my transformation into a nursing professional?

Evangelism and Me

One of my early childhood memories involves my kindergarten self reasoning with my four year-old neighbour Andy about his eternal destination based on his lack of church attendance and evident lack of faith in Jesus. "You don't want to go to hell, do you?" I asked him, before I was corrected by my mother for my misapplied religious zeal. As I got older, I learned that some topics like salvation and damnation were better avoided, except perhaps among people who were like-minded and wanted a friendly debate about predestination. Even these debates had the potential to degenerate into heated exchanges that became highly personal. Throughout my childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, as I attended Christian grade-school, high school, and university, I was surrounded by other Christians and with people who knew the gospel message, even if they didn't personally believe in it. I had no non-Christian friends, and few non-Christian social contacts. While I do remember times I shared about my faith, or presented the gospel, these instances were infrequent. I took comfort in the quote "Preach the gospel, and if necessary use words." My lifestyle and attitudes should speak of my Christian commitment, and draw others towards Christ. Although, sometimes I had my doubts that my life was extraordinary enough to merit scrutiny or to compel someone to say "I want what she has." Also my life seemed to more shaped by my religious list of behaviours and practices to avoid and some positive actions that must be performed, such as Bible reading, prayer, and occasional good works, than by a positive living out of my faith, drawing on a deep connection with Christ to truly love and serve others. Selfishness, pride, greed, hatred, jealousy, and anger were and remain quite obviously a part of my daily life, and however much I tried to demonstrate the fruits of the spirit I failed and I continue to fail to live an exemplary selfless life.

The truth is my Christian witness is not primarily through the quality of my life, but through my testimony of God's undeserved grace in my life. God has brought me through some extremely difficult times, and redeemed my life from the pit of depression and hopelessness. Some one who looks at my life will not be overwhelmed by my exemplary living, although they may note some counter-cultural practices or some things I avoid. But they will see evidence of God's grace if they examine closely and they might hear about his faithfulness. Without God's grace and Christ's sacrifice for me, I would still be back in that pit, and might not even be alive today.

Do I need to return to something like my kindergarten zeal about sharing the gospel and testifying of God's grace? While threatening others with hell-fire is probably not the right approach, I think I should take more of an active interest in evangelism, and consider how that would be expressed in my life, as guided by the Holy Spirit. And I should draw from the depths of Christ's love for me, to find the love and grace to give to others, until it becomes like a neverending stream of life-giving water flowing out of me.

Twenty-nine and half

Well, I am over half way between 29 and 30, and I have less than six months to accomplish my list of 30 things I wanted to get done. This winter I haven't gone downhill skiing, and I still haven't eaten a lobster, or become a full-fledged optimist. I am unlikely to travel to a foreign country, or take a pottery class, as I am considering taking a summer semester, leaving me with little time for a vacation or leisure activities. I haven't written in a journal even once in the past half year, I haven't befriended a friendless person, and I have gained weight instead of losing it, so my belly has become more rotund rather than less. This blog has never been more neglected, although I have posted two posts this year that I have since deleted; I am unlikely to reach my 100th blog post goal. While the summer could see me taking up roller-blading, starting a running program I have been planning on getting to for years, doing a couple of repetitions of the escarpment stairs, learning to barbeque, going on a road trip, snapping pictures with a new digital camera, and playing my first tennis game, I will definitely have to exert myself to accomplish even some of those visions. I can see myself learning how to bake a lemon meringue pie and to cook a whole chicken, but completing ten consecutive push-ups seems an illusive goal. My most troubling failure is in my spiritual life; I haven't developed a daily prayer life, my relationship with Christ remains distant, and the spiritual disciplines and fruits of the Spirit haven't been much developed.

The goals I have made progress on include starting the Practical Nursing program this January, which is going well so far, and becoming involved at the Meetinghouse, where I have been attending a small group and volunteering my time for various causes. For awhile it seemed that I had found a new place to live with new room-mates, and I even moved all my furniture to the new place. Unfortunately my would-be room-mates changed their minds and they now have a couple of new room-mates living with them. Other progress includes the successful accomplishment of a simple sewing job, and the more tidy habits I have been keeping of late. I have joined Christian Cafe and I have corresponded with a few people, and even meet some of them in person, but I haven't started a serious relationship. I have intentionally developed more of a social life, and have gone to a couple of weddings of friends, and a couple of showers most notably.

At this point, my progress towards these goals seems unimpressive and lack-lustre. However there is a good chance with a redoubled and renewed effort, I can manage to accomplish at least half of them before August 29. Most importantly, I think I can focus my energy on the goals that matter the most, growing and developing spiritually. Other priorities include a more active life-style, and broadening my horizons by new experiences and developing new skills. May the next six months be full of learning and growing experiences!

A Visit to Saskatchewan

Playing with Owen's sticker book

Earlier this month I travelled to Saskatchewan to visit my sister, brother-in-law and their young family. It was delightful to spend time with my three year-old nephew Owen and one year-old niece Julianna. Owen was excited to open the gifts I brought him, including an alligator egg that would hatch and grow larger over a 48 hour span when placed in a glass of water. Julianna was less interested in the stuffed bunny I gave her. But she did warm up to me the first day I was there, perhaps because of how closely I resemble her mother. Karen and I went to a huge Craft Sale in Saskatoon. There was so much we would have liked to have purchased, but we confined ourselves to a few items. I bought a scrumptious fruit cake and some fudge, as well as a few stocking stuffers and some lunch. Karen and I also had a girl's night out that included shopping and a delectable chocolate dessert at Boston Pizza. It was nice to converse with Clint and to watch a few shows with him in the evenings and to be initiated into the world of Modern Warfare. He was quite busy taking care of young turkeys and cleaning out chicken barns. The weather turned very cold so we were happy to stay indoors. The Sunday I was there, Karen and Clint were admitted to membership at their church, and they had taped their testimonies to be played during the service. Other highlights include watching the last part of A&E's Pride and Prejudice with Karen after the kids were in bed, playing outside with Owen before the weather turned frigid, starting a sewing project, baking sugar cookies, and babysitting Owen and Julianna. I got to stay an extra day after my flight was cancelled. I have to say that my nephew and niece are even more adorable in person.

Karen & I

The Condition

"But there is only one condition. If you desire intimate union with God you must be willing to pay the price for it. The price is small enough. In fact, it is not even a price at all: it only seems to be so with us. We find it difficult to give up our desire for things that can never satisfy us in order to purchase the One Good in Whom is all our joy—and in Whom, moreover we get back everything else that we have renounced besides!

The fact remains that contemplation will not be given to those who wilfully remain at a distance from God, who confine their interior life to a few routine exercises of piety and a few external acts of worship and service performed as a matter of duty. Such people are careful to avoid sin. They respect God as a Master. But their heart does not belong to Him. They are not really interested in Him, except in order to insure themselves against losing heaven and going to hell. In actual practice, their minds and hearts are taken up with their own ambitions and troubles and comforts and pleasures and all their worldly interests and anxieties and fears. God is only invited to enter this charmed circle to smooth out difficulties and dispense rewards."

~Thomas Merton




This passage shakes me out of my complacent spiritual life. Am I willing to pay the price for intimacy with God? I utter a few perfunctuary prayers and quickly read a Bible passage before sleep. I grumble about having to go out of my way to help someone. I follow my list of rules, but don't seek a living relationship. I am wrapped up in myself: my problems, my needs, my goals, my desires. I live with worry and doubt and I am afraid of many things. I will only grow and thrive if I let go of things that can't satisfy and reach out for the wellspring of all joy, if I start to live in close communion with God and to live in true community with others who are my brothers and sisters.

I'm Accepted....

...into the Practical Nursing Program at Mohawk College for January 2010! I checked online today and noticed my acceptance status was Final Offer and confirmation deadline was listed as September 25, 2009. I was pretty sure this meant I was accepted, so I signed into Ontario Colleges, after figuring out my user name and password again, and found that I had one offer for admission for my one and only program choice. Somehow I had thought I would get a piece of mail telling me this, but that's not how it works. Without wasting anymore time, I confirmed the offer of admission. I am feeling relieved and happy that I'm accepted into my program. When I told my mom she suggested we celebrate somehow, so we went out to dinner this evening to East Side Mario's. Today I had taken a rare sick day, as I was feeling quite sick this morning. I felt quite a bit better by afternoon, and even better when I found out this exciting news.

I will have about two months left at Connon Nurseries, and I may be able to do Second Career when I start school in January. Before I start all my immunizations have to be up-to-date, and I need to get training in First Aid and CPR again. Now that I know I am accepted, I can think about moving out to a new place with one or more room-mates. So if any one in my rather limited readership knows of any possible places or room-mates for me to live with, I would appreciate hearing from you. I feel it would be good for me to be more independent, even if it is cheaper to live at home. That's one thing accomplished on my list so far. Only twenty-nine to go.

Spiritual Junk Food

As a young teenager, I could devour three books in one week, and I often was the first to take a new book out of the church library, especially if the title in question was in my favourite genre, the Christian Historical Romance. I was known to walk around the house with the book, reading while brushing my teeth or while making crackers and peanut-butter. At times I could be so lost in the world of the book, I would be completely oblivious to someone speaking to me from three feet away. My lap was a favourite of our cat's because I would sit so still for so long. I especially liked books with pictures of a beautiful young woman in period dress with a handsome young man in the background, the love interest who, if not already a Christian, would be drawn to God by the sheer beauty and sweetness of the woman who would resist his advances, but would inevitably share a passionate kiss with him half way through the book. The greater the attractiveness of the cover art, the more I liked the book. The books varied from poorly written with stock characters to fairly well-written with characters of some depth, but most were not of literary quality. I read them all as escapist literature, deriving added enjoyment from learning about the period they were set in.

an example of the type of cover I liked; not a book I have read



In high school, my English teacher introduced me to books like The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot, which I wrote a small piece on without much insight, and The Color Purple by Alice Walker, which I stopped reading after being morally offended by Celie's and Shug's relationship. As a teenager, I read some Jane Austen as well, but not for her novel's literary value, rather, for their elements of romance.
When I became an English major in university, in the early stages of my program, before acquiring discerning literary taste, I wondered why we could not study a book from a Christian contemporary author; something in the historical romance vein could be a welcome change from the standard literary classics or the less morally upstanding contemporary fiction. At the same time as I was gaining a sense of literary snobbery, I was also attending a church without a library, so I stopped reading the latest offerings in the Christian romance genre. I still bought every book that my favourite author Francine Rivers wrote, but I didn't even read a Karen Kingsbury book until one was given to me as a gift. My time for leisure reading was curtailed by all the short stories, plays, and novels I was required to read for my classes. Once in awhile I would browse through books in the Christian bookstore and see what was out there, remembering how fun reading books like that had once been for me.
I recently read some descriptions of Christian novels in a book club catalogue. Many of them were set in Amish country and were about young Amish widows getting a second chance at love, or beautiful, yet plainly attired, young Amish girls falling in love with outsiders and weighing the possibility of being shunned against their conflicted love. At the time, I wondered if I could immerse myself again in this type of fiction or if I had grown too far away from it. Now I wonder if the kind of books I used to enjoy were harmless escapism or were they the equivalent of spiritual junk food, fluffy bits of superficial spirituality that kept me from seeing the complexities of real life faith and relationships? Or was the problem more my way of reading them, as an escape from life? I realize all Christian novels are not mere superficial drivel or candy-coated spirituality, but often spiritual depth is missing and the fictional world lacks the moral ambiguities encountered in real life. Just because few objectionable moral things happen in a novel, does that make it a better book than a book like The Color Purple? Can you recommend any books by contemporary Christian authors that have depth and insight? The Shack comes to mind as a book that does not shy away from the pain of real life.