Gilead: Week 4 - Pages 116-141

Memories are a recurrent theme in Gilead. And, often, they are general memories or impressions. Like the one on page 117, “Children seem to think every pleasant thing has to be a surprise,” which paints a picture I recognize from my own childhood and from my children. “Wait, wait! Don’t look yet! We have to get it ready!” Such fun memories! But many of John’s thoughts center on death, or on difficult relationships. That’s why I found two passages in this section to be very intriguing.

At the top of page 124, we read the wisdom of John’s father and grandfather passed down to him. “When you encounter another person, when you have dealings with anyone at all, it is as if a question is being put to you. So you must think, What is the Lord asking of me in this moment, in this situation?” And, on page 126, he offers another choice we get to make. “I have decided the two choices open to me are (1) to torment myself or (2) to trust the Lord.” Both of these questions ask us to look at our hearts—do we trust that God is in the moment? Do we trust that He is working in discomfort?

Right now, my life is full of opportunities to ask these two questions and seeing them in black letters on white paper has stopped me in my daily drift and reminded me to be more purposeful in how I receive the events/news of each day. John ends this section on page 141 with the words, “The fact is, I don’t want to be old (I identify with that though I’m not old like he is) and I certainly don’t want to be dead.” I don’t either! But I can often say I don’t want to be lonely, far from family, without my community, or waiting for answers/direction/guidance. In those words, in the moments when I want to speak those words, I get to choose—will I trust the Lord or will I torment myself. Will I ask what is God asking of me right now, or will that teachable moment be lost? I hope I will choose to trust and learn.

Yesterday in church, my husband, who happens to be my pastor, spoke from the passage in Luke 14:26-27. This is a very hard passage for me to read, to understand. During his sermon, my husband explained that this teaching is more about comparison—I love God so much it is as if I hate my family. God isn’t asking me to despise them—in fact, He commands me to love them, to honor them. But, He is asking me to have no greater priority than Him. So as I live far away from family, I have a choice—to love Him first above all else and to trust Him with my family, with the dramas I’m not there to help with, with the separation I find so hard. I get to ask Him, what are You asking of me in this situation—and then I get to wait for Him to teach me as I trust Him.

What are you asking God to show you? Where is it imperative that you learn to trust Him more? I’d love to read your thoughts on those questions this week. I look forward to reading your posts!

Gilead: Week 3 - Pages 72-115

A friend’s daughter gave birth this morning. We’ve known each other since our college days, had our first two children within months of each other and somehow managed to match their gender to each other—boys first, followed by girls. Her children have been able to have one child each—my children have struggled with infertility. Our stories are the same and yet different. In these pages, John weaves his best friend’s story into his own—and their stories are different. John lost his first wife and child while his friend, Boughton, had four children and a home that seemed full of love. But, both homes knew sorrow and heartache. Their stories were different yet they each knew grief and sorrow. In past pages we’ve seen divisions—a family divided from a grandfather and from a son. Beliefs and perspectives led to relational conflicts and separation. Now, we begin to see that trend in another family’s home.

I have to admit our family has known heartache and separation. A brother went AWOL when his wife struggled with alcohol. For over 10 years, we didn’t get to be with them, hear from them, or know their 3 boys. That was amazingly tough. And, my own children, for perfectly healthy and good reasons, live far away from us—our daughter and her husband are in Taipei, and our son, his wife and our grandson (special delivery adoption) live in Chicago. (We’re in CA) We miss them—and I find myself wanting to know the details of their lives while wishing they could know mine. There are probably countless paths to separation from family and longing for them. Have you walked down any? Are you there now?

Besides family dysfunction, appearance also shows up as a theme in this section. How things appear to us—how we see them, our concern for what we see or how we’re seen. “It is the kind of thing that might appear to have no value at all.” (pg 91) I’d love to hear your thoughts on sight-- both as we see and as we’re seen, and appearance—have you ever been taken in by appearance only to learn later the true value, the true meaning of what you were seeing?

Please share these stories on our blog this week. I look forward to reading your thoughts. As we read, and learn—we can enrich each other’s lives as we share. Thank you for taking time to interact with us—your fellow blog readers!

Gilead: Week 2 — Pages 44-71

Have you had a “dark time” in your life? Or known loneliness that goes deep—all the way deep? “My own dark time, as I call it, the time of my loneliness, was most of my life, as I have said, and I can’t make any real account of myself without speaking of it.” This authentic confession is made on paper to a son our author is already lonely for—a son he may not live to see grow up—a son he wishes he could know and be known by. The phrase, “was most of my life…”

I’ve known loneliness before—our first term in Venezuela, subsequent moves that made me the new one, the outsider. It seems like our pastor, the hero of our book, somehow made peace with his loneliness, learning to live most of his life lonely. That wouldn’t be my first choice! For this husband, father, pastor, friend, the seasons passed, baseball was played and listened to on a radio that sometimes received a strong signal, people came to talk to him and he listened. And, now, in writing this book, it as if he is asking to be listened to—asking for someone to take the time to hear his memories, and understand his heart.

He weaves his thoughts together as if he is showing us the fabric of his life. And, in doing so, he writes of baseball, his grandfather, a seashell, heaven, snippets of sermons and thoughts about communion. He ends this section with these words, “ If you remember me at all, you may find me explained a little by what I’m telling you…I hope you will understand that when I speak of the long night that preceded these days of my happiness, I do not remember grief and loneliness so much as I do peace and comfort—grief but never without comfort; loneliness, but never without peace. Almost never.”

This week, please write about the lonely times in your life and how you lived them—or how you are living them. How would you describe your loneliness—how do you, did you, pass the lonely days? Are you, were you comforted, filled with peace? What helps when we are lonely?

Two last questions for our comments: is there someone you wish you could be known by? How can you share yourself with that person?

I hope you write—I’m looking forward to learning from you.

Gilead: Week 1- Pages 3-43

“I told you last night that I might be gone sometime and you said, Where, and I said, To be with the Lord God, and you said, Why, and I said, Because I’m old, and you said, I don’t think you’re old. And you put your hand in my hand and you said, You aren’t very old, as if that settled it.”

Clear and concise, the first sentence introduces us, the readers, to the world of a pastor who married late and had a little boy. This book is his farewell to his son as well as his way of introducing himself to his boy. He doesn’t want to be forgotten, to not be known. And, that is probably why this book fits my soul. I want to be known, too. Most people do.

How would you pass on a life time of observations and learning to your child if you thought you might not be there to raise the one you love so much? How would I teach about anger, work, and attitudes as well as pass on family history and legends? You might write a book. Like this one that recounts so much while striving to teach, inspire, lead and guide from the grave.
Our story-teller, the pastor, husband, father, friend, seems to skip randomly from subject to subject as he tells bits and pieces his upbringing, his work, his philosophy of life. He tells of traveling in dust-bowl mid-America with his father to find his grandfather’s grave, of marrying young and experiencing death too close and personal. He critiques his sermons, “Sifting my thoughts and choosing my words. Trying to say what was true,” and confesses to cat baptisms and a brother who walked away from family and faith.

I grew up a PK and I raised MKs. I see myself over and over again in these pages—in the poverty, in the scrutiny of the community, of not always knowing how to teach what I want to pass on. I love how Marilynne Robinson writes—spare, clean, eloquent. If I was to grow up and be a writer, I’d like to be just like her.

In our posts this week, let’s share our first impressions of this book—Do you like it? Why? Does it say anything to you? What? I can’t wait to read your responses. And, may I just say—our book club will be as rich as each of us post—it will take all of us to make it great. So, please, post your thoughts—you will enrich us!

Next Book Club starts: Monday, June 7

Book: Gilead, Marilynne Robinson

ORDER @ INKLINGS BOOKSTORE for a 30% Discount: see sidebar for details.

See you back here on June 7. It is a great book. Hope to have you reading with me!

Cries of the Heart: The Cry of God for His People

The surprise ending of this book takes us to the subject Ravi says connects the cry of God’s heart with all the cries of our hearts—Worship. Such a controversial subject—a subject that has divided churches and caused church people to de-church. But, that is the narrow aspect of worship. Worship can enrich every aspect of our lives—every activity, every encounter, every motive, every purpose. Worship can transform our lives and give us tools and means to live our faith well.

Satisfy My Thirsty Soul, by Linda Dillow is a wonderful book on worship. I read it twice last year—I’m a slow but steady learner! One of the important concepts Linda discusses in her book is repeated here in Ravi’s. If we live without authentic worship, if we live with "shoulds" and "oughts" and acts of worship that don’t come from our heart but are preformed robotically, then we become weary in our faith and we lose the joy of our salvation. Ravi teaches that our cries to know God, to feel our faith, to understand and know how to live with suffering, guilt, pleasure and loneliness, are met when we truly meet the cry of God’s heart and worship Him.

As I process this week’s reading, I’m going to be very curious to see if you agree with Ravi in his assertion that worship is the consummate answer to the cries of our heart. He says, “Our cries meet up with the cry of God’s heart for His people—for that is what He seeks for us.” Please blog your response and how it will impact your life with God—your worship of Him.

This is our last week to study this book together. Thank you for making the journey with me. I’ve been challenged by our reading and the Holy Spirit has used Ravi’s writings to help me understand and live my faith in new ways. I hope you’ve been encouraged also. May God richly bless each of us as we learn how to worship Him in deeper ways in each area of our lives!

[Editor's Note: Next book, Gilead, starts June 7. See sidebar for book ordering details (30% discount!) See you in June!]