A Memoir . . . of Sorts by Ian Morgan Cron

This was my Christmas vacation read, and I loved it. It helped that I had heard Cron speak at STORY in September. I literally had his voice in my head, so picking up his gentle spirit in the tone of his writing was easy. I had also experienced his gift as a true minister of Jesus. At STORY he closed his session by reciting a prayer over us that nearly took our breath away. I felt like I was reading the story of a friend, even though I had only briefly met him in a church lobby in Chicago in the fall.

Though my life may have few similarities with the one Cron describes, he still held me close to his experience through his beautiful writing. I felt his heart and emotions in so many of the scenes. I’m pretty sure just from reading the engaging narrative of his First Communion I was baptized as a Catholic!

“And then I fell into God.”

After I read these words, I was done. Finished. They so perfectly sum up the way I have experienced God throughout my life. It didn’t matter if the vehicle was old-fashioned or pentecostal or just plain weird. I know this feeling. I recognize this language. I’ve fallen into God myself. Somehow Cron does this again and again in this memoir.

I’ll admit some resistance to being this sucked into the language of a memoir. Cron discloses his approach in the introduction. It’s typical memoir-speak. The author may or may not have exaggerated certain events or descriptions in an attempt to help the reader feel the emotional weight of the actual event. I dont’ have a problem with this. I do it in my own conversations. Many times I’ve caught myself embellishing the story just a bit, just enough to make sure you REALLY understand the significance. I get it.

Still, I did catch myself wondering WHEN he was exaggerating. Did he add the tears on his face during that First Communion? Or maybe the priest’s knowing look? Was it his friend’s embrace when he finally admitted to a drinking problem? Maybe the photos of his father playing golf with Richard Nixon? I thought about this off and on until I realized it didn’t matter to me. I wanted to feel the emotional weight just as he felt it, even if he had to use a bit of artistic license to get me there.

I do hope the conversation with Miss Annie at the barbeque is exactly as written, though, because I want to tattoo those words on my arm (or on everyone else’s foreheads) so I don’t forget:

“Love always stoops.”

Read it. Live it.

Please, Rev. Cron, please tell me that’s really what she said! Because like the rest of the book, that just felt so real and true.

Wait, don’t tell me. I like just believing it.

By Katie J. Davis and Beth Clark (Howard Books, 2011)

I would like to write two separate reviews for this book. And that frustrates me.

The first review would be a full and complete endorsement.

The second review would be less favorable.

But I just don’t do “less favorable” very well, so instead I’m going to write a review on the book I read and a review on the book I WANTED to read.

Kisses From Katie – the book I read:

The beauty of Kisses From Katie is the story itself. I’ve followed Katie’s blog for a couple of years. At 19 years old, Katie chose the life of an adoptive single mom in Uganda over the life of a single college student in the United States. She does this at great cost to her family relationships (specifically her parents) and her romantic future with her then boyfriend. Instead, on what was supposed to be a one-year stay in Uganda to teach in an orphanage, Katie adopts six little girls within just a few months. Today, Katie is a mother to fourteen.

I assign Katie’s blog to my composition students for reading responses because her story is rife with challenging ideas. It is easy, on the one hand, to be inspired. It is also easy, on the other, to find Katie’s story somewhat out of reach. My students wrestle with her unconventional decision to adopt as a single woman. They argue over whether she could have lived a similarly God-pleasing life from the safer boundaries of her Tennessee neighborhood. They wonder if they could ever possess the selflessness they see in Katie’s life. These are great questions for first-year college students to consider.

For me, there is so much to love about this story. Katie owns an impulsive and brave spirit that allows her to make life-changing decisions in a moment. I envy that. Her heart for the poor, the sick, and the orphaned stir me to some kind of action. As a married mother of four, my story can’t look exactly the same, but I find courage in Katie’s story to challenge my own comfortable ideals and plans for the future. For these reasons, I highly recommend this book.

In Uganda They Call Me Mommy – the book I wanted to read: (new title, yes)

I think most of my problems with the first book (the one I actually read because it is published) are with the writing and presentation. There are so many things I would have done differently. I haven’t read any reviews that even mention these points, so maybe I’m being too critical. It just seems to me that an amazing story deserves to be well told. Was this a rush job on the publishing end because the topic is hot right now? Probably. Did that treatment serve the story well? No.

Here are the best parts of the Katie Davis book I WANTED to read:

1. The story is told like a novel. It begins in the yellow convertible of Katie’s American lifestyle as a typical teenager and moves us along bravely to the rusty motorbike bouncing over the dirt streets of Uganda. The prose is tight and image-rich. As a reader, I am gutted by the differences in Katie’s two worlds and sometimes shocked by her selfless but possibly reckless choices.

2. The narrator answers questions that aren’t already addressed on Katie’s blog. We hear the conversations between Katie and her frustrated parents. We see the officials who describe what it requires to adopt little girls even as someone who has very recently been one herself. We meet the boy she loves and we love him too, so that when he isn’t in the picture anymore we actually care. As readers, we share in the emotional life of Katie not just her thought life. Not just in the words she wants us to hear but in the words she never says but we feel just by watching.

3. The book isn’t preachy at all; it lets the story stand on its own as a testament to faith and bravery. We feel stronger just by reading it. We close the pages, sad to part with a new world and a very special family, and we look out onto our own horizons looking for our Uganda, our little girls, our places of service. We close the book and we don’t stop at admiration of one person but we move into action ourselves. Not because we feel guilty but because we feel called.

And THAT is the book I wanted to read. Maybe we’ll still see that book someday after the dust has settled and a little more life has been lived. I hope so. It’s really going to be a good one.

And this one is good, too, but it isn’t that one.

*Read more about Katie on the Amazima website or in this Christianity Today interview (this one actually answers some of those questions left out of the book).

I know, it’s still September, but I wanted to break the silence for just a bit and tell you about the fun we had at the STORY Conference in Chicago last week. I’m going to do it by showing you one of my favorite photos from the event.

This one was taken on the second morning of STORY. (I love the second morning for some reason.) I had talked Serenity into volunteering with me on the Greeters Team – a great gig which basically involves free t-shirts and lots of smiling. When asked why I volunteer at an event I paid to attend, I always answer in basically the same way, “I’m the type of person who needs to know where things are and how things work so I can help people when they need it. I might as well do it in an official capacity.” Seren was glad I made her do it, especially after one morning session when our team leader, Luke, called her over to stand beside him just in time for Sean Astin to brush past her elbow. Like I said, it’s a good gig.

Beside me in the photo is Sarah Cunningham. She is the girl in the know for all things STORY and she is a dream to work with. If you have interest in joining the team at all, drop her a line at sarah[at]storychicago[dot]com. This is one of the best parts of STORY: the relationships. Sometimes it seems like we look forward to the lunches with new friends (thanks John, Guy, and Joy!) or unexpected conversations in the hallways (can’t wait to talk more, Stephen!) as much as we do the speakers from the stage. We are the kind of people who get each other, and it helps to hang out in one place for a few days. Read Seren’s take on that here.

And speaking of the speakers. Wow. We started out with Ed Dobson (see previews of his short film series here) and ended with Ian Cron (see some video of him speaking here) and everything in between was pure brilliance. A highlight was, as we all expected, Sean Astin, especially because he came across as so genuine and made us feel like we’re only one good role or script or recording away from being in his shoes. He didn’t take himself too seriously, but he also recognized the privilege of being part of great storytelling. Sometimes the person whose name really draws people to an event turns out to be a bit of a dud. Not in this case. Astin delivered on every count. He was definitely the best part. Although Cron spoke an Episcopalian blessing over us to close the conference and that was pretty intense as well. And Kyle Cooper opened his talk with the entire prologue from Henry VIII . . .  So maybe picking a best part it too difficult.

Back to the photo. See the orange/burgundy strap of my new Nolan Bag? This is a handmade messenger-style tote that every attendee was given, and each one was an original. Nolan himself (well, I’m not sure that’s his name, but he’s a real 18 year-old guy with a big dream) was there in lobby (right behind where we’re standing, actually) on a sewing machine churning out new designs! This boutique feel is what you get at STORY. Famous author Ted Dekker spoke in the Art Gallery during one break and took questions from us as if we were sitting in his living room. Stuff like that happens at STORY.

Oh, and one more thing. There is no sign of it in the photo, but STORY announced a new and exciting project this year. Ben Arment and his team have a dream to make a feature length film about the story of David and Goliath. Their growing team includes the Dot&Cross group that produced Rob Bell’s popular Nooma video series. Quality work. One thing I can promise you from this team is a quality product. This film will be well executed; you won’t be embarrassed to show it to your friends. In fact, we’re banking on the fact that you WILL want to show it to your friends. STORY is pursuing a whole new approach to funding and asking the Church to help by pre-purchasing a premiere of the movie over the weekend of October 12-14, 2012. You can host in your own living room or host a huge screening at your church or other public venue. Check out the website and consider getting behind the dream. It isn’t conventional. It won’t be easy. But, as I recently read from Andy Crouch, “it is better to create something worth criticizing than to criticize and create nothing.”

If any of this appeals to you, check out the pre-registration page for next year. See you in Chicago in September 2012!

P. S. The coffee cup? That might have been actually been my favorite part. Dan makes a mad cup of french press coffee. Since he booked us in a condo for the weekend, we were able to share the space with 6 of our friends and family members for a much lower price than a hotel. It also had way more charm and meant we could make our own coffee each morning and well as decompress each evening in the quiet and style of a Chicago flat. My husband is awesome.

So – to catch you up – I have chosen my sponsor child; I’ve basked in Patsy Clairmont’s sensibility and Andy Andrews’ wisdom; I’ve shouted with Mandisa; What more could I possibly ask for from this Women of Faith event in Omaha, Nebraska?

How about a complete emotional outburst? Yeah, that ought to do it.

It happened when Sandi Patty sang. But let me catch you up.

When I was 8 or 9 years old my parents took me and my sister to a Sandi Patty concert for my birthday. The concert was held in a big auditorium (very likely not as large in reality as it is in my memory). At some point in the concert, Sandi Patty invited all the children in the room to come to the stage and sing with her. Now, this should have been a dream come true. Instead, it was a nightmare realized. I wanted more than anything to go, and yet everything inside of me was glued to my chair. My little sister Serenity pulled at my arms and my parents pushed at my back and somehow I made it down the concrete steps toward the stage. I cried all the way.

Once on stage, I was fine. I have no idea what we sang, but at some point my skin was brushed with the royal blue satin of Sandi Patty’s dress. I was almost touched by Sandi Patty. Life would probably never be the same.

With this memory only growing within our family’s folklore over the years – in fact, my brother swears he was there, which isn’t true at all; he’s just heard the story a million times – imagine my thrill when I saw Sandi Patty on the list of Women of Faith personalities at the Omaha event.

And she was everything I had hoped for: full of life, joyful, and as talented as ever.

She sang several songs at the event, but when the opening bars of “We Shall Behold Him” played through the giant speakers, you could almost feel the air settle into the seats for a better view. I didn’t remember the words, so it was kind of like hearing a hall-of-fame song for the first time – only coming from one of my childhood idols. The combination was potent.

I couldn’t be sure how others were responding, so I tried to hold it together. A few tears. I knew I shouldn’t make eye contact with anyone; that would be the end. Unfortunately at about the same time she sang about the resurrection of the dead, she also invited the section of hearing impaired guests to stand and join her in signing. It was too much. What happened to me was not the pretty tears-streaming-hands-lifted-gracefully-to-the-heavens kind of response. Nope. All I could do was sit and cry and let it all sink in: This is real – this faith we’re practicing – and someday it is all going to make sense. We SHALL behold Him. It’s real.

More crying. Tissue dabbing. Sandi Patty’s notes are soaring. The end is coming and by now I just sort of want to lay down on the floor and sob. I realize I’m not alone. We’re all teary-eyed, probably for various reasons. But this information does not calm me down; it only makes me want to cry more.

I tweeted: “Well, it happened. The ugly cry moment. @SandiPattyP singing “We Shall Behold Him” – No words. #WomenofFaith #wofott”

And the really fun part was that later in the afternoon the event staff read that tweet (among a few others) to the whole room and the cameras panned to Sandi Patty’s face. I watched her smile and nod and laugh in response to the tweet and it was like blue satin all over again. Only grown-up.

Booksneeze bloggers at Women of Faith (Omaha)

Thanks, Booksneeze for the great opportunity. Thanks, Women of Faith for the valuable experience.

Now, who among you can tell me how to pronounce Silindokuhle?

Because he’s still my favorite part. : )

I’ve been following Katie’s blog for a couple of years now. I can’t explain the challenge that her young life has presented to me in my established religious ways.

This woman has adopted 14 orphan girls and makes a home with them in Uganda. She started a non-profit called Amazima that specializes in support for women and children, especially in the areas of healthcare, finances, and education. And here’s where it gets crazy – she’s only 21. Rare Rock for sure.

This is her story in the form of a book trailer. The book, Kisses From Katie, releases in October. I can’t wait.

Now that I’m finished watching Friday Night Lights, I’m taking on a new challenge. My friend Katie introduced me to Erin Blakemore’s blog (and book) The Heroine’s Bookshelf. I lurked for awhile and then commented on Katie’s guest post. That comment won me a copy of Gone With The Wind and now I’m joining Blakemore’s read-a-long of the classic.

To me it makes perfect sense to find inspiration from the heroines of some of our favorite classics. I’m looking forward to reading Blakemore’s book for that very reason. Who hasn’t wanted to be brave like Jo March or loyal like Jane Eyre?

In Gone With the Wind, we read about a fairly imperfect heroine – one we may choose to fight with even more than cheer for. But we read stories to help make sense of our world, I’ve heard said. It is important for us to see an imperfect heroine and still see how she is beloved. Sometimes she changes – or sometimes we only wish desperately that she would. All the while, we are deciding how we would behave in similar situations, what we believe is the righteous choice.

Talking with my friend Denise this weekend I told her the only thing I didn’t like about the conclusion of Friday Night Lights was the way Mrs. T whined and fussed at her husband when she didn’t think she was getting her way. She had a reason to be upset, but I didn’t like the way she tried to make her point. I watched the story’s heroine and made a choice for myself.

I don’t know if any of you would be interested in joining the read-a-long. (If you are, just click here to read about the details.) It is a ridiculously thick book. But I know some of you (Carol, ahem, Carol) have mentioned how you miss literature classes and this could be a way to feed that. Or you might want to pop over to the site now and then (the group book club runs through October) and see what people are discovering as they read. Or maybe you’ll just be inspired to pick up that old copy of your own favorite classic. Whatever you decide, remember to keep an eye on those heroines; we’ve got a lot of choices to make in this life and we can use all the help we can get!