As We Forgive by Catherine Claire LarsonWelcome to the WOTH Book Club Blog. I’m so glad you are reading As We Forgive with us. I hope that each one who reads with us will take time to invest in this group by commenting each week. We will be a better book club because of the insights and lessons you share. May I please urge you to comment? The comments that were made during our last read really encouraged me and taught me to see things I would have missed on my own. Plus, I loved that we could pray for each other as we talked about different topics the book brought up. So, again—please share yourself with this book club. We’ll be better because of you! (If you have any trouble commenting, please email Cindy at: editor@womenoftheharvest.com)
This isn’t a light read—it isn’t a book you want to lull you to sleep at night. If you read it right before bed, your dreams may be filled with images too horrible to imagine as you read the words in black and white. This is an important read, though. It shows us the horror that people just like you and me faced when neighbors and friends became fearful enemies and family members were killed with violence we really can’t fathom. What makes this book important for us to read, though, are the redemption stories of forgiveness, mercy and grace that transform those who suffered from this violence—both those who held the machetes and those who saw their lives destroyed from that sharp blade’s destruction.
I first read this book over a year ago and could hardly put it down as the stories captured my heart with their incredible sadness and the amazing hope they offered. Now, reading it for the second time, I’m compelled to read it with more respect—the first rush read has been replaced with a solemn pace—and I have to take breaks away from the intense emotions these pages bring to my heart.
As I read, I’m pondering forgiveness in a whole new light—a light that shines where you would think it could never, ever in a million years shine. It shines from the mother, widow, dad, and son. It shines from the ones forgiven—and the ones facilitating the process. I’m reading this book in early June, when the oil spill has passed people’s patience limit and hateful words are spewing thicker than the oil is coating the marshlands. I’m reading while people are irate about what just happened in Gaza with the relief flotilla that was stopped by Israel. N Korea is making threats of war, the war on terror is still droning on producing more people who will have reasons to hate. Forgiveness in this world seems like a lost ideal. But, the people of Rwanda offer hope that from the darkest of evil, relationships can be reconciled through forgiveness, mercy and grace.
This book will teach us about forgiveness. And, my hope is that we’ll learn how to offer, practice, and receive it in new, deeper ways. I really can’t say, “Happy reading.” This just isn’t that kind of book. But, I do welcome you to this study. I believe our lives will be forever changed if we’re willing to learn new lessons in forgiveness from people who had so much to forgive—so much to be forgiven.
For our first week, please read pages 9-59. You’ll find questions for reflection on page 59 and you may want to comment on one or more of them. Or, you may have your own response to this chapter. I look forward to reading your thoughts!
8 comments:
I was not as familar with this part of history as I thought I was. It was fascinating and heartbreaking to start to hear the stories of survivors of this great tragedy.
The word shalom is special to me because it's what we named our daughter. We had just signed on to go teach at a school overseas and felt like things were moving along in the right direction when we found out at our 20 week ultrasound that she was going to have a lot of medical complications when she was born. As a result we weren't able to go to South Korea as planned. We chose the name Shalom for her because we felt like it symbolized how we felt. Not only did we feel peace about what was happening with the change in our future we felt that God had given us peace no matter the outcome of our daughters health. At this point we didn't know if she would even live when she was born. We knew that even if the outcome wasn't something that we would be happy with it was still something that ultimately God could give us a peace that would overcome whatever it was we were to face.
I definitely like the idea of peace not just meaning an absence of war, because there is always some sort of war going on, even if it's in our own homes. It gives you the confidence that God is bigger than all of our human things and He will give us a peace that is complete in Him.
I'm looking forward to the rest of this book as we continue to read.
Welcome to our blog book study. I'm so glad you were willing to share about your daughter and the gift of peace God gave you. Can you tell us the rest of her story? I hope and pray she is OK. I love what you wrote about our confidence in a God who is much bigger than all our human things and that He will give us a peace that is complete in Him. Amen!
Sorry in advance! As I put these rambling thoughts in my head down “on paper”, this may turn into a long post!
Wow. This is a heavy read. I was 12 years old when the genocide happened, so I don’t remember much. My mom would often have the evening news on while making dinner, and I do recall hearing some. But maybe she would flip the channel when we kids were around, or maybe I was just too pre-occupied with my pre-teen life. When I starting this book, I was ashamed of my ignorance. I did not realize the extent of the slaying, nor did I realize that such a horrific massacre of a people happen over the course of just 100 days. I am glad to be reading this book.
I am usually not too critical of books, but I must say that I was a little bit irked with the interlude. After three heavy chapter of describing such unfathomable tragedy, she starts the interlude with a personal account of injustice… a break-in. I totally understand where she was going with it, and she herself even admits that it was quite a minor offense in comparison to genocide. I know that she is helping the reader to apply the concept of shalom to a personal situation. But I just felt that in doing so, she disrespects the very stories that she is writing about. I simply cannot fathom their loss. And it seems to me that if I was hearing their stories, in the flesh, I would have nothing to say, for anything I would try to say, any encouragement I would try to offer would fall flat. Seems to me that, in that situation, the only meaningful thing possible would be to sit, silently sit, grieve with them, but speak not. Respect their stories by living changed.
I have been thinking on this all week. In light of such horrific injustices that occur in our fallen world, how then do we deal with smaller, personal injustices that we face. I know we must deal with the seemingly “small things” too. We cannot just write everything off as: “Well, this is nothing really in comparison to genocide.” And yet, I do feel that our perspective in the midst of “small injustices” should be different in light of what others have suffered. If our perspective is not changed, we fail to respect what others have suffered.
This is something that I wrestle with often. We live in Haiti, most of our neighbors live in abject poverty and have suffered more than I will ever be able to understand. At times I get so frustrated with myself when I allow insignificant things to bother me, when, if I look around me, complaining should be far from my lips. And yet, I cannot just ignore things that bother me, allowing them to build up within me. How then should I respond? I’m still learning.
HI, Pam! welcome back! I'm glad you are reading this book with us. Your Haiti setting has to inform how you will read this book--and even the interludes, so your perspective is going to be very interesting and helpful. Thanks for digging in there with us. I understand your concern about the way the interlude was written. I was surprised, too. Later in the book I found them to be more insightful and helpful.
There is so much tragedy in our world--I'm still reeling about the Haiti earthquake and how slow the recovery is going there, and now we have flooding in Pakistan, hunger in Nigeria. I know there is enough money and resources to go around, yet people are dying cause others don't realize how their choices are impacting people around the world... Like you, I'm pondering this a lot and wondering how to respond in a practical way.
As I was reading I thought how similar the Gacaca is to the way things are done here in rural Kenya. They don't normally handle murders - much less murder on such a large scale, but they do handle smaller things. The goal is not to confront, but to sit with the offender and the victim and wait. They listen and they encourage repentence. The people I work with don't like conflict, so they say "such and such is a real offense" and then they encourage peace. Sometimes the elders will strongly recommend that the offender pay some recompense and then declare that there is peace. This is usually a really good thing. Unfortunately, sometimes the peace comes to those mediating, but resentment and unforgiveness remains with the two main parties.
This seems to be telling a different story. One where peace really does come even though fear and shame are still present to some extent. It is amazing to see how God has moved in the lives of the people in this story to bring about true peace and reconciliation. I can't imagine it was easy for any of them, but it shows it is possible to be re-knit together even in the midst of horrible suffering.
Hi, Lynn! Welcome back! It is interesting that you can see parallels to how things work in Kenya. Your insights are going to be very helpful, too. I know that confrontation is hard for me--and in some cultures saving face is a very high value. Still, we do have to learn how to deal with wrongs and somehow make them right. I am so amazed at these stories of forgiveness--they seem so impossible to me. I'm hoping for deeper understanding as we read.
Well I'm back with the group again! I had a family emergency during the last book and wound up making an emergency trip to the USA. But I definitely plan to be along for this one!
I was actually very interested to read in the time-line at the beginning how Kofi Annan had turned a blind eye to the situation. He was extremely instrumental in negotiating peace in Kenya during our post-election-violence in 2008. It made me wonder if his conscience was still smiting from Rwanda.
The topic of Shalom is an interesting one. Having gone through the violence in Kenya (although nowhere near the extent of what Rwanda experienced) I'm reading this book with different eyes than I would have five years ago.
When a power-sharing agreement was negotiated here, overnight the violence stopped. People talked about how peace broke out nation-wide in the matter of minutes. My colleagues and I often reflected that we didn't really feel peace, but calm. We didn't feel that the deeper issues were resolved in any way. But that a band-aid had been patched in place to staunch the flow of blood for the time being.
I still wrestle with these issues. Peace vs. Calm. What it takes to bring true Shalom. So I'm looking forward to getting deeper into this book and hearing the insights of other ladies from around the world.
Hi, Michelle! Welcome back. I'm sorry for the emergency that took you to the US--but I hope everything is OK, now. It will definitely be great to have your perspective on this book. I'm looking forward to reading your insights!
I thought your comments about compromising for the sake of calm and how that might circumvent the opportunity for real peace was very thought provoking. I'd like to think and talk about that more.
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