Catholic Company Book Review: Be Holy A Catholic's Guide to the Spiritual Life

There are some books I keep looking for and not finding. I want the financial planning book that tells me how I can end up rich by spending more money than I make. I want the diet and exercise book that features sweets and web surfing. I want the book on improving my spiritual life that lets me do what I want to do when I want to do it. I guess those three books must be in the same box somewhere because I haven't been able to find them. While I held out some faint hope that this book might be the spiritual one I was looking for, I was sadly disappointed.

The author, Fr. Thomas Morrow starts off reminding us that heaven, hell and purgatory are real, and that heaven is where we want to go. He speaks of the glory of heaven, the reality of hell, and the suffering of purgatory. He promotes prayer as the foundation of the spiritual life, and briefly discusses adoration, contrition, petition and thanksgiving. He suggests the Psalms, particularly the Liturgy of the Hours as a form of prayer. He recommends 5-10 pages a day of spiritual reading; and he defines spiritual reading as reading scripture or some spiritual classic, particularly the biographies of saints. Distractions during prayer are addressed, as well as difficulties that are often experienced. Regarding how long we should pray, Fr. suggests starting with a short time, but making sure we are faithful to it; and slowly adding more until we are up to 10% of our waking hours. Father Morrow even had the nerve to recommend monthly celebration of the Sacrament of Reconciliation and attendance at daily mass. After encouraging Eucharistic adoration, he goes into the spiritual and corporal works of mercy and the cardinal virtues and suggests how to practice them.

I wonder if, when I go look for another book from the Catholic Company, they'll have that one I've been looking for? I mean this one is well-written, divided into short sections that are easy to to understand, and contains some helpful concrete suggestions, like making a list of your three worst sins, and examining it nightly before retiring. The hope is that over time one or more of these can be replaced with another less serious sin that is now the worst. Unfortunately all this advice takes work and results in a changed life.

I wonder where that box of books I want is hidden? Oh well, until I find it, I guess I'll try the advice in this one, Be Holy, a Catholic's Guide to the Spiritual Life. The Catholic Company sent it to me without charge, with the understanding that I'd review it here; I'm sure if they get in the one I want, they'll offer it to me for review too, right Chris?

This review is part of Book Review Party Wednesday. Stop at Cym's blog and see what else is being reviewed this week.

First Wildcard: Piece de Resistance

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Sandra Byrd

and the book:

Pièce de Résistance

WaterBrook Press (September 15, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Sandra Byrd is a best-selling author of books for adults, teens, and children. Her notable series include the Friends for a Season series, the Secret Sisters series and the French Twist series, which includes the first two Lexi Stuart novels, the Christy Finalist Let them Eat Cake and its sequel, Bon Appetit. A regular contributor to newspapers and magazines, Sandra lives in Washington state with her husband and two children.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (September 15, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1400073294
ISBN-13: 978-1400073290

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Everything you want is out there waiting for you to ask.

Everything you want also wants you.

But you have to take action to get it.

Jules Renard


If I had known exactly where and in what kind of trouble I was about to land, I’d have stayed in Paris.

“Come on, dear.” A wizened woman dragged a shuffling friend past me and down the long carpeted hallway. “We don’t want to get in the way of Rosa’s granddaughter, even if she’s sitting on our couch.” She threw a dirty look over her shoulder.

I started to stand up and get out of her way, but she disdainfully waved me back into my seat.

“WHO?” her friend shouted as I sank back down.

“ROSA’S GRANDDAUGHTER. She’s sprawling on our couch.” I flinched at the vocal hurricane, but no one else seemed to notice. Or maybe they just couldn’t hear it.

For the time being, I was crashing at the guest apartment at my nonna’s retirement community. Where else could I get in on such short notice? It was twenty dollars a night, and only for a week or so…I hoped. “Well, they do have a lot of singles,” I’d told my best friend, Tanya, as she laughed at the news. “And they do love what’s left of life.”

“I think it’s cute,” she’d said. “You can get a personalized pill container and swap horrible doctor stories.”

“Ha ha,” I’d answered. “Be careful, or I’ll hold your bridal shower there on bingo night.”

I’d stayed with my parents on Whidbey Island for the two weeks since I’d been home from France. Yesterday they’d dropped me and my gear off at the retirement community, though most of my stuff was still in storage awaiting my “real” apartment. And now I sat in the common room, not realizing I’d poached what someone considered her personal couch, waiting for the afternoon bus to take me to my new job.

I checked my watch again. To pass the time, I thumbed through the Gideon’s Bible sitting on the side table, flipping by chance to the first chapter of Philippians and scanning the extra large print until my eye caught something that hooked into my heart.


And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and

more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be

able to discern what is best.


Oh yeah, I thought. Bring on the discernment. I was starting a new job—the job I’d been hoping for all my life and at which I desperately wanted to succeed. And I found myself embroiled in a romantic crisis where I not only didn’t hold all the cards, but the men involved had turned surprisingly poker-faced about their intentions.

Lost in thought, it took me a minute to realize that a kindly looking man had sat down next to me. He tried valiantly, but unsuccessfully, to clear the phlegm from his throat. I scooted over to both accommodate him and to offer us some personal space. He kept looking at me, but as soon as I looked back at him, he glanced away.

Finally he spoke. “Who are you?” he asked quietly. “And what are you doing here?”

That was indeed the question, and not only for my current living situation. I wished I had an answer.

Nonna breezed in through the lobby, snapping her mauve umbrella shut with a force that belied her age. She kissed the cheek of her companion, Stanley Jones, who tottered off to his own apartment, then came to get me.

“Lexi, love,” she said. “I’m glad I got here in time to see you off. Let’s wait by the door. The bus will be here soon.” On the way through the foyer, she whispered, “I thought I’d mentioned, dear—don’t sit on any upholstered furniture in the common areas. When you get to be my age, many of us have incontinence problems.”

Shocked, I reached around and felt my backside, not caring who saw me. Whew. Dry.

Nonna giggled at my distress, taking everything about aging in stride, as she always did, and looped her arm through mine. “I’m glad you’re home.”

I grinned back at her. “Me too, Nonna.”

“Why can’t one of those nice young men drive you to work today?” she asked.

“I don’t want to ask them. It’s…awkward. I’m not sure where I’m going with either of them right now, and they both have their own jobs.”

“Seems to me a man who likes a woman would offer her a ride,” Nonna sniffed.

“I’m sure plenty of men hitched up their buggies and took you to work back in the day,” I teased.

She grinned wickedly and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “So tell me about the Frenchman.”

“His name is Philippe. He’s really nice, a great baker, and has the most adorable daughter named Céline. He’s taking Luc’s place, the one who moved back to France.”

“He’s one of the owners of the bakery?” she asked, checking creds, as always.

“Yes, Nonna,” I said. “He’s an owner. He’s Luc’s cousin, and the whole family owns all the bakeries.”

“What about that lawyer you were seeing before you went to Paris?”

“Dan?” I kept my voice even.

“Mm-hmm.”

“He’s…here still. Of course. I just talked with him a few days ago. It was his suggestion, actually, for the Delacroix Company to lease the space I’ll be working in. The new bakery.”

“That was nice of him. Who’s the better looking of the two?”

“I’m glad to see your values haven’t changed!” I said, but com- pared them in my mind anyway. Philippe was definitely good looking in a continental way, dark blond hair that just touched his shoulders, a bit taller than me. Dan was built bigger, taller, with broad shoulders I loved to see set off by suspenders. His strawberry blond hair perfectly matched his lightly tanned complexion.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Nonna poked me out of my daydream. “Gotcha!”

She laughed, and I laughed with her as the rain slid down the outside of the window, my hometown Seattle lights blinking away in the drops. “Thanks for seeing me off today. I won’t be long. Just meeting Margot and getting a quick run-through.”

“Of course I’m seeing you off ! Everyone is jealous that my granddaughter is here. I need to brag.”

I saw the bus rounding the corner about a half mile down the road. Nonna saw it too.

“Go get ’em,” she said. “And bring something home from the bakery. Anything with fruits and nuts will be right at home in this place.” She grinned, but I knew she loved her home and her friends.

I walked out the door and started toward the covered bus stop. Not a moment later, though, a motorcycle pulled up and parked in front of the retirement center door a few feet away. Even with the helmet on, I recognized him immediately.

“Philippe!”

What is he doing here? Quickly followed by, He looks good!

“Good afternoon, mademoiselle.” He hopped off the bike and walked toward me, holding out a helmet. “As your employer, it’s my responsibility to get you to work on your first day at the new job, n’est-ce pas? And I was eager to see you again. Sophie told me where to find you and what bus you were likely to take.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said. I introduced him to Nonna, who’d come running out as soon as she’d seen me talking with a guy. “This is my grandmother, Rosa. Nonna, this is my…friend, Philippe.”

“Enchanté.” Philippe kissed her hand.

“Enchantée,” Nonna responded, pulling back her shoulders and making sure the gathering crowd, their noses pressed against the retirement center’s front windows, witnessed the exchange.

As I got on the back of the bike, I said, “I had no idea you had a motorcycle here. Do you also have a car?”

“Oui,” he said, “I do. Luc left his car for me, and I gave him mine in France. But I thought a motorcycle would be fun too.”

He sped up a little, and as he turned the corner out of the retirement center’s curved driveway, I recognized the truck pulling in.

Dan!

I’d told him I’d be staying with Nonna and had planned to take the bus.

I caught his eye, and he caught mine, and I saw the bouquet of flowers carefully propped in the passenger seat. I had no time to wave before Philippe accelerated and we sped off.

I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut to avoid seeing Dan’s reaction. Nonna would explain it to him.

Nonna was liable to say anything.

A few minutes later, Philippe pulled the bike up in front of a long, black marble-fronted building in the Fremont district.

“Eh voilà!” he said, parking and then holding a hand out to me. “This is it. Do you like it?”

I took his hand, got off the back of the bike, and looked at the building. There were already two gold fleurs-de-lis over the front door, with the gold-lettered word Bijoux—meaning “jewels,” the name of the bakery—centered over the door. Otherwise, it was a blank slate.

“It’s beautiful!” I walked to the huge picture windows and looked in. The room was mostly empty, holding only a jumble of boxes and supplies, and some tarps left over from a recent paint job. But what lines, what bones. What this place could be!

“I can’t believe I never noticed this building before,” I said. “It’s perfectly perfect.”

Philippe laughed. “It’s been recently restored. That’s one of the reasons Luc was drawn to it…until he found out it couldn’t be used for a restaurant. But, ooh la la, what a bakery, n’est-ce pas? Après toi, mademoiselle,” he said, holding the front door open for me.

I expected to be greeted by the chic calm the exterior promised. Instead, I was blasted by a streak of blue French from the kitchen.

“Margot?” I asked in a small voice.

Philippe grimaced. “Oui. La Margot.”

Philippe’s sister Margot was the one downside to this dream job. Since she was a great baker and a member of the family, she didn’t worry that her attitude might lose her a job. She didn’t bother to sweeten it either.

“Bonjour,” Philippe called in what I recognized as his fake singsong voice. I felt torn between my desire to see my new kitchen and my desire to flee at once. Philippe decided for me, pushing me forward.

“C’est Lexi,” he introduced me to Margot.

“Nice to see you again,” I said in English. It was the polite thing to say, even if I didn’t mean it. She ignored me.

“I’m glad we’ll be working together,” I tried in French, an even graver lie. She didn’t return the favor or grasp my hand, but she grunted. French it was, then.

“Alors.” Philippe led the way toward the back of the kitchen. “This part,” he indicated with his hand, “will be mostly for pastries, which Margot will do. She’ll be here part time and at the other bakeries part time too.” He smiled widely and indicated the largest part of the kitchen. “And this will be for the cakes and catering. That’s you!”

I looked at my part of the kitchen. Marble and stainless counters, and lots of tall glass-fronted cabinets for ingredients. A pair of gleaming industrial mixers. Drawers full of equipment, but not in the easiest-to-reach places. I didn’t know who placed some of the utensils and tools. Maybe the guys who’d brought equipment over from the other bakeries.

“It’s everything I could want,” I said. And it was. My own kitchen. Tiny though it was, it was mine.

Philippe opened an armoire. “Here’s where you’ll store the paperwork and computer, and the phone even fits in there. Will this be enough space for the accounting books?”

I blinked and answered, “I guess so.” He’d be a better judge of that than I would.

Margot slammed a drawer, and when I turned around, I saw her grab her cigarettes and a lighter from the countertop. I wrinkled my nose. They should at least be hidden. As she headed out back, Philippe followed her. “Un moment,” he said, winking.

While they were gone, I turned the radio to a warm, low-key favorites station and began rearranging my work drawers. After ten minutes, I had them just so. I also rearranged my countertops and cake decorating materials so it made sense to me.

When Margot and Philippe came back in, I asked him, “How will the front be decorated? Will there be furniture arriving?”

He took my arm, and we headed to the big front room. I could already envision engaged couples choosing their cakes in a chic, refined, leather-furnished room.

“Hmm,” Philippe said. “I hadn’t thought too much on that topic. I am so busy at L’Esperance…” He shrugged, and I knew the burden of taking over their biggest US bakery. “Would you like to do it?”

“Would I?” I grinned. “I would!” I pictured deep blue drapes framing the windows and subtle gold cording. I’d make an appointment for a window etcher to etch the company name in gold on the glass, just like the Delacroix bakery in Versailles.

It was going to look fantastique.

When we got back to the kitchen, my countertops had been completely rearranged back to the previous nonsensical order. Margot’s back was turned toward me, and she quietly hummed along with the radio—not the station I’d turned on. I looked through my utensil drawers. All returned to the way they’d been before I’d fixed them moments ago. I looked at Philippe. He shrugged. I determined not to escalate things and left everything where it stood—for the moment.

“Lexi?” His voice softened. “I have a few questions about some things for Céline…”

“Oh, yes, when is she coming?” I asked, delighted at the prospect of hugging that sweet little bonbon again.

“She’s at her grandparents’ in London but will be here in a few days,” he said. “I’ve signed her up for the French-American school, but there are some other things…” He opened his briefcase and held out a folder. “Do you know a good doctor? a good dentist? And many other questions I need your help with.”

I found it endearing to see him a little vulnerable for once; he was always so in charge. It made him even more appealing.

“Of course I can help you.”

He smiled. “Perhaps we can talk about it at dinner tonight? Incredibly, I have found a quiet little bistro…”

He must have caught the look on my face, because he stopped mid sentence.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve got dinner plans tonight.”

“Ah well.” He shrugged, but looked a little forlorn. “Perhaps another time.”

“Certainly,” I said. “Anytime this week. Stop by for lunch or let me know when it’s convenient.”

With that, he handed me a key and took his leave, and Margot left too. I locked the doors behind them and then sat on one of the bar stools next to the counter. I looked around.

It was all mine, my kitchen. Well, and Margot’s too. But I was no one’s assistant anymore. I was a chef.

I checked my watch, saw I had fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant where I’d agreed to meet Dan for dinner, and went to brush my hair. On the way out of Bijoux, before turning the lights out in the kitchen, I did two things.

I put Margot’s cigarettes and lighters into a drawer near her work station, and I turned the radio station back to the one I liked.

As soon as I walked into the restaurant, I saw him at a corner table. My eye caught his, and then my breath caught too. Dan was a good looking man in any pose, but when he smiled, he was downright divine. Though he’d picked me up at the airport and taken me to my parents’ house when I first got home from France, I hadn’t seen him since.

“The world traveler has returned,” he said, standing to pull my chair out and then scoot me back to the table.

“Do you mean from my travels in Paris or the urban oasis of Whidbey Island?” I grinned.

“Both.” He held out a bottle and a glass. “Wine?”

I nodded, and as the waiter came to take our order, we shared the last few weeks’ happenings, culminating in my announcement that I had been to Bijoux that day.

He nodded. “I left work early to come pick you up, but I arrived just a little too late.”

I knew he would bring that up. I knew it. And yet, we weren’t at the exclusive dating level yet, as far as I understood, so I didn’t have to explain myself to him, right? “Philippe thought it would be good to take me to work on my first day,” I said as casually as I could. “And he had the keys.”

Dan nodded and showed absolutely no emotion. Lawyer’s training, I supposed. A minute later, he loosened up again and asked about the kitchen and the countertops and what kind of oven it had—things nearly no non-baker would think to ask.

“Why are you interested in the ovens?” I teased.

“Because you are,” he said simply and without guile. And that was even more appealing than the dreamy smile.

I asked about his job too, and he regaled me with his latest case, somehow making the law funny, something my brother was never able to do. Then his phone rang.

He looked mortified. “I’m so sorry. I thought I turned it off. It’s new.” He took it from his pocket and fumbled for a minute to locate the Ignore button. Before the backlight went off, I saw the caller ID.

Nancy.

I met his eye and he looked away, and then the waiter brought our salads. While he ground some pepper for Dan, I reminded myself, You’re not at the exclusive dating level yet, as far as he understands, so he doesn’t have to explain himself to you, right?

Right.

My Review:
Piece de Resistance is the third book about Lexi, a young woman who finds that her vocation is baking cakes. In Bon Appetit, which I reviewed in August she went to France to study, and while there, met Phillipe, one of the owners of the bakery for which she worked. In this book, she returns to Seattle and is made the manager of a new store, which is strictly doing cakes and catering. She has never liked the business end of the business or managing employees and now she has to deal with both. She has a year to make a success of the store, or she'll be out of a job. To make things interesting, Phillipe is now in Seattle and her boss. Also, the guy she left behind to go to France is definitely interested in picking up where they left off. Will the bakery make it? Which guy will she get?

Like Bon Apetit, this is a fun sweet read. Though the last book in the series, it can stand alone--there is enough back story presented to that you won't be lost. It is Christian fiction and while the faith elements are well-integrated into the story, there are enough of them to turn off someone who doesn't care for religion. Basically we follow Lexie as she prays for direction in life and reads her Bible to find God's will. I enjoyed it and recommend it.

You can learn more about the book, or purchase it directly from the publisher by clicking here.

If you reviewed this book, add your name and link to Mr. Linky

Blog Tour and Review: A Slow Burn

A few months ago I read and reviewed Mary Demuth's Daisy Chain. I enjoyed the book but found it heavy and dark. I have to say the same about the second book in the trilogy, A Slow Burn (Defiance Texas Trilogy, Book 2)

A Slow Burn picks up where Daisy Chain leaves us. Daisy is dead; but who killed her? While there are some elements of a murder mystery, mostly this is the story of redeeming love. Hixon is the illegitimate son of a White woman and a Black man. His mom never loved him, and moved from man to man until she died, at which time she left her property to her sorority, not to him. He was "adopted" my Murial, a white widow whose husband had been an arch-segregationist. At the beginning of this book Murial is dying of cancer, and tells Hixon to marry Daisy's mother. Daisy's mother, Emory, who Hixon calls Missy (Miss E), was also an unloved child. She is now a drug addict and dealing with the guilt of losing a child, a child she never loved as she should have.

I'd call the ending of this book more hopeful than happy. We still don't know who killed Daisy, or why.

Hixon's faith is the main reason he acts as he does toward Emory. He wants her to know the love of Jesus, a love than can make up for other loves that are lacking. Still, it is obvious that accepting Jesus hasn't made his life a bed of roses.

If you are looking for a well-written book, this is one. If you are looking for a light happy read, this is not. If overt Christianity in a book bothers you, this is defintely not the book for you, but this book isn't preachy; it teaches by showing. It is the second book in a trilogy but does stand alone reasonably. However, having grown attached to Daisy in the first book and to her mother in this one, I don't like having to wait until book three to learn who dunnit.

Book Info:
A Slow Burn
By Mary DeMuth
Zondervan
ISBN - 0310278376
368 Pages
PUB DATE: October 2009

To Purchase from Amazon.com: A Slow Burn (Defiance Texas Trilogy, Book 2)

Publisher's webpage

Double Cross: My Review

Having enjoyed Forsaken, the first book about Taylor Pasbury, I jumped at the chance to review James Jordan's second book about this hot-shot security agent. Here is what the publisher has to say about the book:

Raised by a father who was a former Special Forces officer, Taylor is beautiful and brilliant and knows how to take care of herself. But she is haunted by her past and the sacrifice her father made to save her from a brutal rape when she was seventeen. After a controversial stint in the Secret Service, she has become the most prominent private security specialist in America. When she discovers the body of a former client's top assistant, all the evidence points to embezzlement and suicide. But Taylor has no way of knowing that her mother, who ran out when Taylor was nine, is about to reappear and lead her down a twisting path of danger and deceit. It's a road that won't end until they reach the spot where Taylor's father died - where Taylor learns that some sacrifices can never be earned.

Even though thrillers aren't usually my thing, this book held my interest and I really enjoyed it. The characters (especially Taylor's mother and stepfather) were quirky and well-developed. The resolution was not predictable yet was not far-fetched either.

The book is Christian fiction but for most of the book you wouldn't know it. However, toward the end, Taylor does some reflecting and the Christian message is in there, very overtly.

As I noted, it is the second book in a series, but it isn't necessary to read the first one to enjoy this one; the little back story you need is provided. While this book had a very satisfactory resolution, something was left hanging enough that I believe another book may be on its way. I hope so.

First Wildcard will be touring this book in October. Check back to read the first chapter.
To Purchase from Amazon: Double Cross: A Novel

Review: Seaside Letters

Thanks to the Thomas Nelson Book Blogger Review Program for a funny, sweet and serious romance, Seaside Letters The hero, Tucker, meets the heroine, Sabrina but she won't let anyone get close to her emotionally as she has just been dumped by her fiancee in favor of the cousin with whom she grew up. He suggests she post something to an internet message board, and when she does, he emails her using a screen name. She responds, not knowing it is him, using a screen name. He knows it is her; she doesn't know it is him until he sends a photo. She is falling in love with him, but doesn't want him to know it is her--but she doesn't want to give up the relationship either. She emails him a photo of another cousin. Then he hires her to help him find this woman with whom he is in love. Next, the cousin whose photo she sent him shows up.

In some ways the book is a comedy; it is funny watching Sabrina try to figure out how to hold on to Tucker without letting him know who she is, while we know he already knows.

The author explains at the end of the book that in her romances she tries to show the love of Christ through the love of her characters. In this book Tucker pursues Sabrina even though he knows her faults; he loves her more than she loves herself.

The book is Christian fiction, though for most of the book you wouldn't know it--except that it is a clean romance. I enjoyed it and think that most people who enjoy clean romances will like this one.

Author, Denise Hunter's webpage
Book Preview
Seaside Letters">To Purchase from Amazon

Blog Tour and Review: The Potluck Catering Club--A Taste of Fame

A Taste of Fame, the latest of the Potluck books, features the ladies from Colorado taking on New York City as contestants on a reality show that pits catering companies against each other with the now-familiar format of the TV audience calling in to vote on which teams continue and which teams don't.

I've read and reviewed some of the authors' other books: The Potluck Club, Trouble's Brewing and Things Left Unspoken. Like those books, A Taste of Fame is far more about the characters than about the plot, which came out just about like I thought it would. This is series fiction, and unfortunately, it shows. I missed a book or two along the way and there were some things that happened that I just didn't completely understand because I missed the backstory. It wasn't that the story didn't make sense; rather it was the feeling that I'd understand some motivations and behaviors better if I knew what happened in the past. I guess they are planning at least one more book because, though this one had a satisfying ending, threads were left hanging.

As with the other Potluck Club books, I'd recommend it to those who like Debbie Macomber's yarn shop books, or her Cedar Cove books. It is Christian fiction, which in this case means the characters pray together at crucial moments and that they plan to donate the prize money to their church. However, the prayers aren't long or preachy so I think even someone not inclined toward Christianity could enjoy this book, if they like light fiction about relationships among a group of women.

Succeeding in High School: My Review

If you have a teen heading into the high school years, you and your teen may find Joseph Adegboyega-Edun's Succeeding in High School to be a handy pep talk, particularly if you aren't familiar with modern high schools. He describes generally what can be expected each year and gives very basic advice like study when you can, complete assignments and take classes that are challenging, but don't don't overload yourself.

I read this book as a parent who is in her fourth year of high school (and has "been to" three schools) so there really wasn't anything here that I didn't know. Perhaps I would have found the book more useful if I had read it before my son started high school. He does have a section on college admissions, but as a college graduate, it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know. For a parent who didn't go to college and doesn't know the drill, I think it gives a good outline of the procedure.

I'd like to thank the author for sending me a review copy of this book, and wish him the best with it. While it isn't the book for me, I think it does a good job of presenting useful information.

To Purchase from Amazon: Succeeding in High School: A Handbook for Teens and Parents plus A College Admissions Primer

The Green Green Pear: My Review

Who among us has not wished to change something about him/herself? We want to be bigger, smaller, younger, older, blonder, richer, more athletic...anything but what we are. The main character of this children's book feels pretty much the same way. He is a green green pear and wishes he were (sic) anything but a green green pear. The Green Green Pear, the title character goes through a panoply of things he is not, giving children the chance to review the names of fruits and their colors, shapes, and animal sounds. Then the pear makes a wish on a shooting star and wishes to be transformed into things other than a green green pear. Each time thought, in his heart, he remains a green green pear. Finally, in the end, he wishes to return to being a green green pear because he realizes that is what he really is.

If found the book kind of amusing with a good lesson. My fourteen year old thought it was dumb. My five year old was attentive when I read it the first time, but hasn't asked for a repeat.

To order from Amazon: The green Green Pear

Review: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Random House Reader's Circle) is probably the best book I've read all year. It is certainly the most popular on Amazon.com. Someone I used to try to avoid gave it to me--but I learned years ago that his bark was worse than his bite and he really is a nice guy (just in case he happens to see this).

Set in 1946, the year after World War II ended, the book features a writer, Juliet Ashton. Juliet is in her early 30's and spent the War years writing a newspaper column called "Izzy Biggerstaff Goes to War". Now that the War is over, her columns were collected into a book and published by her friend Sidney, who is a big-time publisher. It was before the days of blog tours so we read the letters Juliet wrote while she was travelling around England on book signing tours. The whole book is written in the form of letters, generally to or from Juliet, but sometimes those dear to her. One day Juliet gets a letter from a man on the island of Guernsey, which is in the English channel. From him she learns of a literary society formed while the Germans occupied the island. Despite working for the newspaper, she knew next to nothing about the occupation of the island and asked if he would get members of his society to write to her. They do, and after reading their letters, she decides her next book will be about the occupation, and she heads to Guernsey to meet the people and do more research.

At under 300 pages, it isn't a long book and it reaches beyond the categories into which we usually divide books. It is historical fiction, and while history forms the backdrop, the book is more about the characters than about that particular time. Juliet has a love life, but the book isn't a standard romance or historical romance. The only thing in the book that I can think of that might be offensive to anyone would be that two characters are named as homosexuals--but they are not a couple, nor do we hear of their sex lives. It is a book that deals with wartime and like true wartime, people lose their lives but in general, it has a happy ending. The writing is beautiful, the characters well-drawn and the descriptions of the island make me want to go there. Do yourself a big favor, read this book.

To purchase from Amazon: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Random House Reader's Circle)
Publisher's webpage

First Wildcard: Cottonwood Whispers (with review)

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Jennifer Valent

and the book:

Cottonwood Whispers

Tyndale House Publishers (August 17, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jennifer Erin Valent is the winner of the Christian Writers Guild’s 2007 Operation First Novel contest for Fireflies in December, her first published novel. She lives in Central Virginia, where she has worked as a nanny for over fifteen years. A lifelong resident of the South, her surroundings help to color the scenes and characters she writes.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers (August 17, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414333269
ISBN-13: 978-1414333267

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

I’ve heard the dead whisper.

Every time I tell my best friend Gemma that, she frowns at me, says, “There ain’t no such thing as ghosts,” and then tells me I’m crazy. But I’m not crazy. The dead really can whisper, only it isn’t their ghosts that do it. It’s the memory of them.

There’s a place around the bend from my momma and daddy’s house where a stone cross rests beneath a cottonwood tree. That cross is where I first heard the whisper. It’s not really a grave so much, but a marker to remind people of what we lost that day. I was only seventeen when we placed that marker there, but it still looks pristine, like it was made just yesterday. Only yesterday was a long time ago, and time has brought a whole lot of changes since—some good and some bad.

And that’s just what I was looking for in that summer of 1936 . . . changes.

The last day of the school year saw me and Gemma meeting up at the pharmacy for a soda to celebrate another year of my surviving school. When I got there, she was standing outside the building, swinging her purse by one hand.

“Where you been?” Gemma asked when she caught sight of me. “I’ve been waitin’ ten minutes.”

“Teacher took a long time givin’ her end-of-year speech. She sure does like to talk.”

“Sounds a lot like you.”

I wrinkled my nose and gave her a shove, but she was the only person who could talk sharp to me and not get an earful back. We were like sisters, Gemma and me, and the way I figured it, sisters should be able to say near about anything to each other.

We sat down at the pharmacy counter with confidence because Mr. Poppleberry, who ran the place, didn’t have a thing against colored people, and he welcomed Gemma in all the time.

“I’m gettin’ a job this year,” I said determinedly once we were settled with our chocolate sodas. “I’m tired of not havin’ money to do things with.”

“Where you gonna work? Ain’t much open around here these days.”

“I’ll find somethin’. Everyone in Calloway knows I’m a good worker.”

She shook her head. “Work ain’t so fun as you think. It ain’t all independence and extra pocket change. It gives you backaches and weary bones, too.”

“You’ve only been workin’ at the Hadleys’ for two months, and you sound like you’re old hat at it.” I took a long sip of my soda and sighed. “Heck, you get to spend your days in that big old mansion of theirs.” I rested my chin on my hand and gave her a sideways glance. “All the same, you won’t catch me workin’ for no Hadleys. They’re just a bunch of uppity do-nothin’s.”

Gemma shushed me with a kick on my shin, and I gasped, pointing an angry glare her way.

“What’d you do that for?”

She didn’t say anything, but I saw her straighten up in her chair a little bit and look up past my head.

“You girls gettin’ somethin’ cool to drink?” a man’s voice asked from behind me. “Sure is a fine day for coolin’ off any which way you can.”

I spun around in my seat and turned back just as quickly when I saw it was Joel Hadley walking our way. Joel was the youngest son of the Hadley family, but his dangerous reputation belied his twenty-one years. I knew Joel Hadley for a charming scoundrel, and I was disgusted that my end-of-school celebration would be marred by his presence.

Gemma smiled at him with an extra twinkle in her eye. “Just givin’ Jessie somethin’ special. She finished school today.”

“Good ol’ days,” Joel said with a sideways smile. “Seems a long time ago, all that school stuff. Seem long to you, Gemma?”

“Not so much, Mr. Hadley. I’m not too long out.”

Joel patted my head as though I were a five-year-old instead of the almost-seventeen-year-old that I was. I sat up a bit straighter. “You got some business we’re keepin’ you from, Joel? We don’t mean to hold you up or nothin’.”

Gemma glared at me so quickly that I barely noticed it between the dumb smiles she kept giving that boy, but I knew it was there all the same.

“Well now, I was just takin’ a break from my work. I came on over for some cigarettes and lo and behold, I got an extra treat, seein’ such pretty faces.”

Charm oozed from his pores far too easily to be natural, and I couldn’t believe for the life of me that my wise Gemma could be taken in by such nonsense.

I fingered my straw and avoided looking at either of them. “Guess you’d better get back to the bank, then. Seein’ how it’s your daddy’s bank and all, we’d best not keep you from your work.”

Joel eyed me for a minute, slowly rolling a toothpick back and forth in his mouth.

After several seconds, I met that gaze with a forthright one of my own. “You got need of somethin’, Joel?” I asked innocently.

“Nope.” He stared at me for a minute longer, and I didn’t like his look one bit, all narrow-eyed like a rabid fox. I just looked casually back down at my soda, stabbing the cherry at the bottom of the glass. I fished it out and popped it in my mouth like nobody was even there.

Gemma cleared her throat. “Tell Mrs. Hadley we’re right grateful for the tub of strawberries she sent home with me yesterday. We all appreciate it, I’m sure.” With those words, she turned to me for agreement, nudging me beneath the counter.

As it was, I knew nothing about a tub of strawberries, so I shrugged and said, “S’pose we are. I ain’t tried one yet to tell.”

I could see by Gemma’s face that she thought me rude and undignified, but I was of no mind to give notice to men who put on faces that didn’t match their insides. Pretty pictures were all well and good, but if there wasn’t a good story behind the picture, it meant nothing. And that’s what I thought the whole lot of Hadleys were: just pretty pictures with no meanings.

Joel finally took his eyes off me to reply to Gemma, but his manner toward me remained charmingly hostile, and I was surprised that Gemma didn’t notice the coldness he showed me. Or maybe she did, I thought, and she just didn’t care. No matter what she thought, she was now giving all her attention to Joel.

He tipped his hat at her and smiled. “Plants are full this year. Don’t see any need in lettin’ them rot.”

Gemma nodded in reply, her docile mood making me doubt her true identity. The Gemma Teague I knew didn’t get flutters over men and strike fancy poses like she was doing now.

“Well,” Joel said, “best get goin’. Time and money wait for no man.” He tipped his hat at Gemma again, flashed me a wry sort of grin, and walked off to buy his cigarettes, leaving us to sit in a moment of tense silence.

It was only after Gemma had stirred her soda for about a minute that she looked up at me with chagrin and said, “Jessie, what’d you have to go and do that for?”

“Do what?” I asked, though I knew full well what she meant.

“You was downright rude to Joel Hadley. Downright rude!”

“Me?” I argued. “Did you see the looks he was givin’ me? He could’ve near burned a hole in my skull.”

“He had every right to after the way you talked to him. Sakes alive, Jessie, he’s a Hadley.”

“That make him the king of England or somethin’? I ain’t got to bow to Hadleys no more’n I have to bow to Peeboe the milkman. Since when do I got to give people extra respect just for bein’ richer than me?”

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with it,” Gemma said in exasperation, though I could see she wasn’t quite sure herself what she meant. “It’s just . . . well, I work for them and everythin’.”

“Don’t mean you gotta worship them.”

“I don’t!”

“Way you looked at him, a body would think you did.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said in a huff. “I just don’t want to talk about it.”

We sat there for a bit in an uncomfortable silence while Gemma slowly sipped her soda, and I wished I hadn’t finished mine already so I’d have something to do. I leaned on the counter and tapped a rhythm on it until another thought came to my mind. “He smokes cigarettes too.”

“So?”

“So? It’s a smelly old habit. And Momma always says it’s a stumblin’ block.”

“There ain’t no commandment about smokin’.”

“There ain’t no commandment about tippin’ cows, neither,” I said abruptly, “but we ain’t supposed to do it.”

“Luke Talley himself works in the tobacco factory, and you want to marry him.”

“But he ain’t smokin’ it!”

“What’s the difference between smokin’ it and makin’ it for other folks to smoke? Besides, your daddy don’t smoke hay in that pipe of his.”

I glared at her, not sure which way to go in this argument since I’d only brought it up by fishing for something else to blame Joel Hadley for. I went back to tapping my fingers and avoided looking at her.

Gemma tossed her napkin down and grabbed up her purse. “I don’t want to talk about work today,” she announced. “I don’t want to talk about nothin’.”

That’s exactly what we did as we walked home. We talked about nothing. We didn’t talk about her job or school or anything else. To avoid the tension, I tried thinking of other things, like what I was going to wear to church that Sunday. I thought about asking Gemma if I could borrow her red hair bow, but I wasn’t sure I should speak to her about anything just then, much less about something so trivial as a red hair bow.

We often borrowed each other’s things for church seeing as how we went to different congregations and the people there wouldn’t realize we were swapping. Gemma went to a colored church a few miles down the road. It was a sticking point with me that four years after her momma and daddy died, Gemma still had to stay away from certain places we went to even though she lived with us. But the way Gemma saw it, we weren’t going to cure all the world’s ills in her lifetime, and the fact that we were at least untouched by violent prejudice lately was advancement enough for her.

“A body’s got to wait for change sometimes, Jessie,” she said to me once. “We done gone to hell and back just to get rid of the violence, and it’s a miracle itself for us to see Calloway at peace with me still livin’ at your place, even if some do turn a cold shoulder. I’ll take that to my heart and be happy we got this far.”

I’d assumed she was likely right, but I still had parts of me tied up in knots over people’s strangeness. Nonetheless, I’d had to get used to the fact that Gemma had gone to a different school and a different church and couldn’t freely walk into any store in town she wanted to.

I glanced over at her and studied her face, thinking it didn’t look so angry as it had before, so I cleared my throat to get her attention and said, “You wearin’ your red hair bow on Sunday?”

“Probably not,” she murmured.

“I was thinkin’ I’d wear my white dress.”

She swung her purse by her side and continued to watch her feet as we walked along, kicking up the dry dust. “Guess you want to wear my bow.”

“I was thinkin’ on it.”

“You can wear it.”

We walked on for a couple of minutes in silence before Gemma seemed to decide there weren’t any real good reasons for us to keep fighting. She kept looking down at the ground, but her voice got a little lighter when she said, “Guess you think Luke will think you look right pretty in that red bow.”

I snapped my head up. “No ma’am, I don’t! I just like lookin’ nice on Sundays, is all.”

Her eyes glittered. “You talk a big talk, but come Sunday, you’ll stew over how to wear your hair and whatnot. Just like you always do. And you’ll swoon over Luke like always.”

“Don’t matter none, I told you.” I took my own turn to watch the ground, since looking at Gemma only told me she knew how I truly felt despite the lying words I was saying. “Anyhow, Luke wouldn’t notice me in a month of Sundays.”

“If he did show you attention right now, your daddy’d kill him. You best be happy he don’t see you as more than a sister yet.”

“I’m nearly seventeen,” I argued. “I’m enough of a woman to be courtin’.”

“Not courtin’ a man of twenty-three. The minute Luke were to show you some attention, your daddy would be loadin’ the shotgun.”

“Oh, he would not. Daddy wouldn’t kill Luke.”

Gemma waved a hand in front of her face to dismiss the subject. “If it’s meant to be, Jessie, it’ll be. That’s all there is to it. It just ain’t meant to be yet.”

I shrugged, guessing she was probably right, though I hated to admit it. Gemma went on inside, but I stood on the porch steps for a minute giving a little thought to her idea that Daddy would have the shotgun on Luke if he came courting. I shook my head at the notion and sighed. It seemed every other day I heard my momma moan about how fast time was flying, but the way it seemed to me, I couldn’t get old fast enough.

Having loved Jennifer Erin Valent's first book, Fireflies in December I was eager to read this sequel which takes place about three years later. Gemma is still living with Jessilyn's family, but is now finished with school and working as a domestic servant for the rich family down the street. She is developing a relationship with the adult son of the family. Jessilyn realizes her family is in financial trouble (it is 1939 after all) and so she gets a part-time job helping a neighbor lady, who was already fond of her. Tragedy strikes when a three year old is struck by a car and left for dead. The man who is blamed is a mentally challenged African-American.

Shortly after this scenario became appparant I really thought I knew where this story was going. While to some extent, it ended the way I thought it would, some things were unexepected. I enjoyed the book and look forward to more of Valent's writing.

If you reviewed this book, leave a link on Mr. Linky!

My Review: Cowboy Christmas

Have you ever seen or read a melodrama? The only one that comes to my mind is "Snidley Whiplash" which was one of the continuing features on The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show I used to watch as a kid. The main characteristic of a melodrama is that everything is exaggerated; the heroes are very good and the villains are awful, with no redeeming characteristics. Mary Connealy's Cowboy Christmas is a melodrama. The heroine, Annette Talbot, was a singer with a travelling gospel show. The managers retired and a new crew took over. She discovered they weren't good Christians, and were actually using the show as a front for gambling. At that time they also told her she was going to wear an indecent dress and sing bawdy songs. She wants to leave, but is going to stay to protect the elderly organ player. However, after a beating, the organ player came to her, said her heart was giving out, and encouraged her to run away, and gave her some money. She ran back to her father's ranch, which she found abandoned. The bad guys were on her heels, they wanted her beautiful voice as a draw. She meets a lonesome cowboy who a few months ago discovered that his fiancee murdered his father. The cowboy and his mother take her in, but the bad guys are not far behind. Will this virtuous maiden escape the dastardly villain? You'll have to read the book to answer that question.

The book is Christian fiction, and like the plot and characters, the faith elements are melodramatic. The hero lost his faith as a result of watching his father die due to the actions of his fiancee. The heroine prays constantly, and dramatically. When the heroine and the hero's mom meet, faith is the first thing they discuss. By the end of the book, the hero's faith is restored.

This book was amusing in its own way, but I preferred Montana Rose and Gingham Mountain.

To purchase from Amazon:

Plain Promise: My Review

I enjoyed Beth Wiseman's Plain Perfect last year so when the Thomas Nelson book review program offered her new book Plain Promise (A Daughters of the Promise Novel) I was happy to request a copy.

Plain Promise is the story of Sadie Fisher, a young Amish widow who rents out her guest house to a single man from California. Shortly thereafter, his autistic young son is dropped off by his ex-wife, who shortly thereafter is killed in a car accident. Kade is a wealthy developer who, despite all his toys, is deeply unhappy. She feels attracted to him, but knows that being with him would mean leaving her family and friends. She has been corresponding with an Amish man in Texas for some time; will she marry him? Kade is attracted to her, and to some extent, to the Amish lifestyle, but can he fully accept the Amish lifestyle? The book also contains a sub-plot about a romance between two elderly Amish, which I thought was sweet.

I enjoyed the book. There were a few references to characters featured in Wiseman's other books, but this book is fine as a stand-alone novel. As in Plain Perfect, the outsider comes to Lancaster County looking for peace on his or her own terms and finding it on Amish terms. I'd be real curious to know how often people to convert to the Amish faith/lifestyle and how often it really sticks. As fascinating as I find the Amish, I find it extremely difficult to imagine leaving this life for theirs. Faith is a part of the book, but isn't really preachy.

Plain Promise is an easy feel-good read and I recommend it to those who enjoy books about the Amish or those who like clean romances.

For more information, check out Beth Wiseman's website, her blog or follow her on Twitter

Click to Purchase from Amazon: Plain Promise (A Daughters of the Promise Novel)
Thomas Nelson Product Page (Includes preview of book)

Review: The Anti-Alzheimer's Prescription

Written by Vincent Fortanasce, MD - Board certified in neurology and rehabilitation - Bioethicst - Clinical Professor of Neurology at Univ. of Southern CA. whose patients have included Pope John Paul II, this book piqued my interest when Bostick offered it. My 80 year old father who periodically complains of age-related-memory-loss, yet seems to be able to recall a lot of information from the various periodicals and books he is constantly reading, came to mind. When I gave him the book, a quick scan brought out the comment: “I’d like to read this. It looks like he includes a lot of the things I find on the net and elsewhere.” I asked him to provide a summary and this is the list he came up with:

1. Genetics: Despite the demonstrated risk involved with a certain APOL allele, there is still “hope” and Dr.’s and patients should fight.
   
   
2. Physical: Sound body = sound mind. Simply stated - doing things that keep us healthy protects us from Alzheimer’s. ( The obvious - don't smoke, do exercise, sleep enough ) Often we associate physical well being with our muscular strength and endurance - but tension and stress, while usually associated with the thinking patterns, are important elements of our physical well being.
   
   
3. A subset of physical involves the diet. Here we need to stress omega-3, DHA&EFA. Also folate. More support for the Mediterranean diet.
   
   
4. Mental: Positive attitude and mental exercises (neurobics). The positive attitude affects stress levels and influences multiple physical systems in our body. Neurobics (a clever coined expression for mental aerobics) not only involves doing puzzles etc. but involving the processes with our various sensory modalities.
   
   
5. Informational sources - a well referenced book within the understanding of a wide range of readers. The material is presented in a way that inspires confidence (VERY IMPORTANT) Many convenient charts and pictorial illustrations. Even recipes.
   

Some of the books I've seen from Bostick have been of questionable authority--self-published by people of questionable credentials. This book is certainly not in that category. The author is highly credentialed and my dad, who has a Ph.D., knows junk science when he sees it. My dad recommends the book, so I do too.

To purchase from Amazon: The Anti-Alzheimer's Prescription: The Science-Proven Plan to Start at Any Age

Click here to see the author's website.

Book Review: Three Weddings & a Bar Mitzvah

Three Weddings & a Bar Mitzvah is the final book in Melody Carlson's 86 Bloomberg Place series. It features four young women who are housemates.

• Megan is dating Marcus. Evidently he is a relatively new Christian. In his previous career in finance, he made lots of money; now he is planning to be a missionary. He heads off to Zambia without her and she isn't sure where they stand. She has been working at an interior design firm, but quits to teach middle school art.
• Kendall is the keeper of the house in which they are living. It belonged to her grandmother, who is now in a nursing home. Evidently in an earlier book she put an ad in the paper and ended up with the others as housemates. She is pregnant with Matthew's baby but is engaged to marry Killili, who is from Hawaii, which I guess is where they met. Her parents are loving, but overbearing.
• Anna is dating Edmund, with whom she works. However, she has always played it cool with him, not letting him get too close emotionally. Now, however, there is a flirtatious young intern at work who sets her cap for Edmund. Who will get the guy? Anna's brother Gil is engaged to Lelani, another housemate. They belong to a large Hispanic family and have a very bossy mom.
• Lelani is from Hawaii. She has a one year old daughter, whose father is a married doctor. She is in college, wants to go to medical school and is engaged to Gil, Anna's brother. There is bad blood between her and her mother.

We follow these four young women through the months before Lelani and Kendall's weddings, which happen on the same day. The girls are in each other's weddings. Besides these two weddings, that same weekend Megan attends another wedding and Anna attends a bar mitzvah. Each chapter is titled with one of the girl's names and it tells about her part in the events.

This book is definitely part of a series. I haven't read any of the other books in it, and as such I could definitely see that there were things I was missing; however I was still able to enjoy this book. Like The Potluck Club books, Debbie Macomber's yarn shop books or her Cedar Cove books, it is a "group of women" slightly soap-operaish book where the characters and their relationships to each other were more important than the plotline--and yes, everyone lives happily ever after here.

The characters in this book pray together, and Marcus and Kendall discuss how he feels called to the mission field and how he wants to follow God's will in his life. As a Catholic, the book had a couple of minor irritants to me. First of all it mentioned that Gil was marrying outside his culture and faith. Secondly, at one point Anna gets a horrible attack of conscience and heads "to a place she seldom visited. Well, besides Christmas and Easter. She drove to church, parked her car and went inside the sanctuary, where she sat for a while. Finally, she went to confession...." Why is it that the Catholic girl is the one who doesn't take her religion seriously (and no, missing mass is not what sent her to confession). While religion is not the main focus of the book, there may be enough of it to turn off someone who doesn't like Christian fiction.

I enjoyed this basically fluffy piece of Christian chick-lit. First Wildcard will tour it September 28. Check back then to read the first chapter and learn about the author.

Catholic Company Book Review: Fire of God's Love 120 Reflections on the Eucharist

I'd like to thank the Catholic Company for allowing me to review Fire of God's Love: 120 Reflections on the Eucharist by Mike Aquilina. The book has gone with me to Adoration the last couple of weeks. As the name indicates, it includes 120 short reflections on the mass and/or the Eucharist. Since these reflections were not written for this book by one author, but rather, were written by a variety of saints, Popes, and writers I think it is likely that everyone can find something that appeals to him or her. Those quoted include Maria Montessori, Scott Hahn, Pope Benedict XIV, St. John Chrysostom, Cardinal Avery Dulles and more. The book includes a bibliography so that you can read the source material, if desired. The quotes encourage and challenge, comfort and urge you forward. I'd like to leave you with one:

• Lose Yourself
  He who comes to Communion loses himself in God, as a drop of water in the ocean. They can be no more separated.
  ---Saint John Vianney

Already Gone: A Review and More

I'll warn you now that this post is going to ramble, and is not going to be the standard book review. Already Gone is written by a fundamentalist Protestant. He looks at why children raised in "Bible Believing" churches leave, and what can be done both to keep them from leaving and to woo back those who left.

I'm Catholic and one topic often discussed on Catholic blogs is why children leave the Church and what we can do to bring them back. Those on the conservative side of the spectrum generally say that the problem is that these children were never taught about the faith. They complain about weak religious education programs and/or teachers who don't support the Church's teachings. They say that many parishes have lost a sense of the sacred and propose more formality (and better dress) at mass and a return to the use of Latin at mass. They criticize the praise and worship music often used at teen masses and encourage the use of the organ and Gregorian chant. Those on the liberal end say that we need to encourage more liturgical involvement by teens and young adults. Our masses need to be more welcoming. Music needs to be more modern and the Church needs to be more open to the lifestyles of its people. As a middle-of-road parent I am left wonder WHAT I can do to keep my kids in the Church. When this book was offered by First Wildcard, I thought it would be interesting to see what the neighbors had to say about what is evidently a common problem.

For this book, the authors surveyed 1000 young adults who had been raised in what they term "Bible-believing" churches, but who did not currently attend church. They tried to determine how these young adults were alike and different, why they no longer attend church, and if they plan to return. The author's litmus test for "Bible-believing" appeared to be whether the church taught the literal truth of Genesis. He came to the conclusion that these kids were leaving their churches in their minds and hearts long before college. Kids who attended Sunday School regularly were less likely than those who didn't to answer questions such as whether they believed in evolution or whether abortion should be legal in the manner the author considered correct. The survey found that 38% of these unchurched young adults planned to return when they had kids.

The basic conclusions of the authors are that children need to be taught the literal truth of the Bible, especially of Genesis, and that they need to be taught apologetics so they can intellegently refute the messages they are getting at school and in other places that promote evolution. Further, they state that parents can't depend on Sunday Schools to pass on the faith--they have to do it. Interestingly they found it made no difference whether the kids attended public school, private schools or were homeschooled. They say that pastors have to firmly preach about Genesis and make preaching the Word the center of their services (rather than music as is now the fashion in some circles).

I don't claim any great expertise nor have I done the research these folks have done. To me, it seems that part of what they are saying makes sense--if kids aren't taught the truth (however you define "truth") there is little reason to stay with a church that claims to have it, especially if that church's teachings are unpopular in the culture (like the authors' beliefs in the literal truth of Genesis or the Catholic teachings on sexuality). If a church is little more than a neighborhood social club there is little reason IMO to make attendance a priority. On the other hand, this book studied a very distinct set of people--those raised in a particular type of church who now no longer attend any church. I'd be curious how the data would look if you surveyed 1000 random young adults who are not now regular churchgoers. What is their background as far as churchgoing? Are certain denominations or styles of churches that do a better (or worse) job of retaining their youth? Are there certain denominations or styles of churches that tend to make churchgoers out of their youth--but whose youth often choose other types of churches?

The book was interesting, though from my perspective, too much time was spent discussing the necessity of a literal view of Genesis and why it is important. For the record, I do not believe much of Genesis is literally, historically true.

First Wildcard will tour this book October 15. Check back then to read the first chapter.

My Review: Aurora of the Northern Lights

From Amazon: A Christmas Rhyme Filled with Magic—and St. Nick, Too!
“Aurora of the Northern Lights could become for a new generation what The Night Before Christmas has been before it: a seasonal classic.” - Greg Elliot, author

Named for the Northern Lights, Aurora faces a woeful plight. To many lands she must roam, searching for her true home. Come along as author Holly Hardin conjures a mystical world of adventure, sprites, and magical charms. After losing her parents, little Aurora sets off on her own. Because she’s different, Aurora finds it difficult to find anyone who will listen to her story, even at Christmas time. As her story continues, Aurora receives special gifts to keep her safe and important clues to find her new home.

Follow the journey as Aurora encounters a host of creatures along the way—including one very famous bearded man. What follows in this beautifully illustrated and delightfully written book is a heartwarming story of a home lost and found—and a Christmas lesson for us all.

What I Liked:

• Aurora of the Northern Lights is written in iambic pentameter, which makes it lots of fun to read aloud.
• The illustrations were colorful and well done.
• It has a happy ending.

What I Don't Like:

• The book has a general "New Age" feel to it. It starts with a romance between Mistletoe and William. They marry on the solstice. They name their baby Aurora. After her parents die, a witch gives her a crystal charm.
• A young girl is left alone when her parents die, and no one will take her in. All complain that she is different and should go to her own kind
• When she gets to the North Pole she meets Santa and his elves, one of whom is her grandmother. Why didn't her grandmother know where she was, and why didn't her grandmother go and get her?
  
  

I'd like to thank the author, Holly Hardin, for sending me a review copy of this book. I offered it to my five year old before I read it, but after looking at the cover, she said she didn't want it.

My Review: Never the Bride

Never the Bride was a different sort of book. Jessie Stone is 35 and wants to be married. We start the book by joining her at a speed dating session. Speed dating in this book involved speaking to a member of the opposite sex for 8 minutes before moving on to the next one. At the end of the night, each left contact info with the manager, along with the names of the people they wanted to get to know better. None of the guys picked her.

Jessie is a control freak and is stuck in a job she hates. She also keeps a journal and over the years she has scripted hundreds of romantic proposals. She just wants someone to propose to her--but he has to be the RIGHT someone. Then one day God starts appearing to her, in the flesh--well almost in the flesh. She can see Him; no one else can. He tells her it is time to let go and let Him write the script. Based on what He says, she quits her job and starts a business scripting and producing romantic proposals for guys who just can't figure out how to make the moment special. Still, she wants a guy for her very own. When God tells her she isn't ready yet, she's insulted. Eventually though....

I was expecting some light silly chick-lit with a little religion thrown in; but this book was highly religious. There was some light and silly, like Jessie telling her business partner sister that if they didn't drum up more business, she'd have to use Cover Girl makeup and Wal-Mart hair products, but somehow to me, having regular audible conversations with God takes it out of the silly category. Jessie is like a lot of us, she wants things on her terms, not on God's and in this book, she didn't get what she wanted until she did things His way. Maybe because of the split personality of the book it wasn't one of my favorites though I did enjoy it.

First Wildcard will tour this book September 7. Check back then to read the first chapter.