Monday, July 20, 2026

Reading rambles

After a slow reading month in May, I've been devouring books. Several are worth recommending - in fact, many of the books that I have read this summer have been worth recommending. 

First, I finished a couple of books that were written by people I know or know of. The first was written by a deacon from our former parish in Coronado, All Things New by Bobby Ehnow. Bobby is a great guy. You'd never guess that he spent 3 years in prison when you meet him, especially now that he's a deacon and works for the Archdiocese of San Diego. He served jail time for white collar crimes that he inadvertently got drawn into while working as a government contractor. This book is the story of his redemption, as well as an argument for restorative justice, which is the field in which he works now for the diocese, after getting a PhD in leadership studies. His book describes problems in the justice system, but it also explains how his prison experience was transformative.  While I particularly enjoyed this book because I recognized many familiar names and places, the book is worth reading as a reminder of the need for ministry to prisons and prisoners and for alternative ways to restore justice. 

The other local book I read also focused on a tragedy, but this time it was the story by a friend of a friend, Stephanie Meeker, called When the Unthinkable Happens. This book centers around the tragic death of the author's best friend, who was murdered by her angry ex-husband. The author takes in the four children of her friend, first as a temporary solution, then as a foster parent, and later as an adoptive parent. The book describes challenges in the court system, as well as difficulties at home with the kids, who struggle with their mother's death.  One of the children does not want to be adopted and runs away at one point. Because the case has to be tried in both criminal and civil court, the investigation and court appearances go on for years.  The father is in and out of jail during this time before his final sentencing. In the midst of all of these difficulties, the author describes how faith gave her and her husband strength to face both the big and small challenges. While the book is written in a way that sometimes simplifies or avoids revealing too many details because of the sensitive nature of sharing a story about children, the virtues displayed by the people in the story - the perseverance of the Stephanie and her husband, the support of the community, and the resilience of the children - inspire readers to do more for others. Nonetheless, it is clear how superhuman grace is needed to carry on and to love when exhausted.

Another book I finished recently also described acting with generosity and love towards others iout of a missionary spirit. For book club, I finished Christy by Catherine Marshall. This book is so familiar to me - I either read the book or watched the movie sometime in the past. Or maybe I just saw the cover at the book store or my grandparent's house. At any rate, I knew the premise  - a young, naive woman, Christy, leaves home in Asheville, NC, to be a missionary and teach school in the mountains of North Carolina. She devotes herself to helping the children learn and to befriending the women of the hills and teaching them as well. Christy seems preternaturally optimistic, but she faces challenges and learns from her mistakes as the story develops. Part of what I liked most about this book were the descriptions of the hills and mountains which seemed somewhat familiar from our recent trip to the Smokies. I also liked reading about Christy's teaching methods in the one room school and the solid advice from her mentor, Miss Alice Henderson, the Quaker missionary who was a single mother and teacher herself. She has some of the best lines of the book, and her unflappable and charitable demeanor are admirable in the face of hostility, illness, poverty, and physical exhaustion. 

While those three books are not necessary exemplars of literary artistry, Graham Greene's The Heart of the Matter and The End of the Affair do offer more in terms of style and content, although both are rather bleak tales that capture the darkness of the human heart and the need for redemption.  The End of the Affair was a Well Read Mom book club pick, but I missed the meeting for the discussion. When I read these books back in my late teens - I can't remember now if I was still in high school or early college, I was enamored by Greene's slow reveal of how a skeptical character's encounter with faith caused them to revisit their previous misconceptions. The End of the Affair has a much more hopeful and almost mystical ending, while The Heart of the Matter ends with a character's suicide because he believes he is beyond redemption.  The characters are all rather self-absorbed and pitiable, and reading them again later in life is not as stunning. I am less sympathetic to the characters. But I appreciate Greene's perspective on the seriousness of faith. It is something that should be taken as seriously as these characters treat it.  I was sorry to miss the discussion about Bendrix because at the end of the novel we learn a little more about acts of kindness he performs that aren't evident from his narration.  The novel leaves open whether he follows in the path to conversion that his lover Sarah began. 

Two other books that I finished were bestsellers. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi and The Correspondent by Virginia Evans have been making people's lists for their favorite books of the last two years. I think they both came out in 2025. My sister-in-law recommended them because her book club read them. I am sometimes skeptical of bestsellers because they can lack the literary merit of books that require more thought. Nonetheless, I enjoyed both of these, particularly The Correspondent.  You know when you feel like praying for a character in a book at Mass that the character is particularly vivid. I started this book at my in-laws' house and could barely put it down, even on the way to church. And then I sat there frustrated with the main character, Sybil, wishing *** spoiler alert **** she had gone where she said she was going to go and that she would make up with her daughter.  I think it took about 6 hours to read. Told through the letters of law clerk Sybil to her best friend, to the young son of a lawyer friend, to her children, and other characters with whom she has relationships, the novel conveys the develop of a character already aged, but still learning and forming new relationships and repairing old ones. I appreciated the subtle development of the story line - not a thrilling plot, but a slow development of character that proves satisfying, even if not surprising. 

Theo of Golden was also a bit predictable, although the final couple chapters tied some loose ends together in a way I didn't quite expect. I expected unexpected coincidences, though. The story follows a strange visitor to the small town of Golden who begins to make friends by buying portraits at the local coffee shop and giving them to the person in the picture. People open up to Theo and tell them about their hopes and struggles. He seems to see through their masks and to recognize their worth, which he shares with them. In return they grow in confidence and become attached to Theo.  While the story is a little saccharine, it touches a chord. The town of Golden seems charmed, and full of people who just need a friend to open up their hearts to, someone who will give them the love and encouragement they have been craving.  In the end the book won me over despite my skepticism. I see why everyone is recommending it. 

Two books I finished had theological themes: Bright Evening Star by Madeleine L'Engle is a memoir of her charmed childhood with her journalist/artistic parents who often went to the theater or parties, leaving her at home presumably with a nannie. Because she was frequently alone she developed an active imagination, but she also developed a love for Christ and faith in him. This is a short book, but an interesting and inspiring description of how and why she is a faithful Christian.  In Lore Wilbert's Understory, we also meet Christian theology combined with memoir and natural history text with an ecopoetic lyric added in. It was informative, descriptive and meditative. It made me want to head to the woods for a long time.

Part of the reason I didn't read much in May is because I spent a long time trying to finish The Way We Live Now a long Victorian novel by Anthony Trollope. Less caricature than Dickens, but more urban than Austen, Trollope's novels often feature both marriage plots and political maneuvering. This story features a newly rich family who come to London and soon feature prominently in the social scene despite everyone's snobbery. Meanwhile, the rich young lads seem to be dissipated and unreliable, and the marriageable young women want both reliability and romance and can't seem to find them both in the same young man. At nearly 800 pages, Trollope's book carries this on a long time. 

I've also read a few journals - a couple issues of Plough and Notre Magazine and the movie and film reviews of one of the CSC priests here, who shares his thoughts on the cultural offerings of the last six months. His public, spiral bound journals predate blogs. In between that, I've started reading up on film for my course and finishing the Life and Times of Wendall Berry. After that flurry of reading activity, I have to turn my mind to course planning. How to manage a 105 minute class of seniors? Time to get serious with planning my literature of redemption class. It will be a busy fall. 

Friday, July 17, 2026

Small Failures

I'm waiting this morning for the clock to turn to 9am so I can call the camp office where my daughter is supposed to spend next week, arriving on Sunday. Except I forgot to sign up for the bus, and the bus is full - and the camp is in Texas. She is flying there at the end of the week and staying with a friend - who will get on the bus and go to camp.  My options? Find someone else who didn't sign up in time for the bus and beg for a carpool or drive to Texas, an 18 hour trip.  Or fly in and rent a car to drive her to camp and head home. I'm feeling a bit like a failure this morning.

I also failed to sign her up for tennis camp on time. 

And I failed to notice she was watching Disney shows when she was supposed to be doing her math homework.

I failed my other daughter because I couldn't commit to the used car she wanted, and it sold the day before I decided it was a good deal. I hate shopping cars, especially used cars. We found a hybrid Kia she liked, but I wanted to do a little research before committing. It turns out it was a good deal, but someone else swooped in and got it. 

We had a minor tragedy last weekend because I failed to put the chickens back in the coop one evening when we had friends over for dessert. Unfortunately, I already felt awful because I failed to remember that my friend is gluten free when I made a cherry cobbler, which I overcooked anyway. At least I had fruit from breakfast and whipped cream, and she brought a lovely lemon meringue pie, which was gluten-free and delicious.

While we were visiting, I failed to notice that the chickens were raided by a night creature.  They had flown over the fence, and three of them were in the front yard when our friends left. The fourth we failed to find. But I did find feathers this morning in the neighbor's yard. The cycle of life in action. 

Despite those failures, I fell asleep quickly last night, but I woke up at 3 am and failed to go back to sleep. I finally went downstairs for a melatonin and read for awhile, but it was a book about Wendell Berry, which always makes me feel unrooted. I love his vision for community and caring for place, but it does stir up a longing for land and a reminder that I have failed to enact his ideas.

I also failed to submit an abstract for a paper about this book before the deadline for a conference that I really wanted to attend, but I simply forgot - May and June I was focused on other things. And I probably would have failed to finish it anyway because I failed to say no to some new commitments and have a busy fall.

I lay awake at 3 am, worrying about all the kids, about our parents, thinking about ways I have failed as a mother, a daughter, a wife, a teacher, and a friend - so many! I could go with this list of failures. I felt like Judith Viorst's Alexander on his no good, very bad day.  

It was only when I jerked myself back to thinking about the good things in our life that I could finally fall back to sleep. I may have many failures and shortcomings, but by grace, we do have many blessings. It is easy to get bogged down in the regrets and mistakes and forget how fortunate we are, how wonderful it is to be alive, despite these failings, which I write down here as an act of expiation in atonement for my self-pity. Sometimes it is easier to feel sorry for one's self than to feel grateful. This morning I am grateful for some rain, for the repairmen who fixed our a/c, for my garden, for the remaining chicks, for the new friends we have made, and the old friends who remain so dear, for our meaningful work, for the beauty around us, for our parish and community, and for the health and well being of my family and my loving husband and for the Giver of all these good things and more.  

Several friends and acquaintances have suffered some really tragic losses this week, which make my failures seem the petty things they are.  Life is a gift. 


(**PS: I started this the other morning. And today I found out LK got a seat on the bus after all. Amen.)

Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another.
-Lemony Snicket