Book Reading and Avoiding Laundry For Dummies: 101
By Tamarah on August 29, 2014
I’m sure I am not the only one who starts a few books at a time…doesn’t your mind get tired of reading just one book? Wouldn’t you rather be bombarded with the inner workings of a few authors, and enjoy the juxtaposition of worlds, finding common themes between them and further relating to the layers and layers of your onion mind? I love this unraveling of layers, slowly exposing and rebuilding myself with every turn of the page. It is truly delightful.
Like a girl in every port, I have a book in every room.
So here are the few ports I’m visiting now:
“Jesus says the kingdom of His Father is not a subdivision for the self-righteous nor for those who feel they possess the state secret of salvation. The kingdom is not an exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there. No, it is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious caste of people who understand they are sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle.”
I got this book around 10 years ago, and I flipped through it then; but I never finished it. At the time I was deeply immersed with Donald Miller‘s writing, and that was where I was at spiritually during the time.
Right now, I’m definitely in a growth period…but not in a “Joyce Meyer” devotional kind of growth. This is a much more “Rich Mullins,” and “Brennan Manning” growth. This is when I am sitting in a garden with barefeet, digging my toes in the dirt and picking grass with my green, stained fingers, having a quiet discussion with God and trying to figure things out, kind of growth. My body is rejecting cliche phrases, and locking in on things that I can chew on:
“When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal: I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.”
I wish I could thank Brennan for writing this, but unfortunately his time here has passed. I am so grateful he took the time to scribble the painful throes we wrestle with in our lives, though. It can be hard to find reality when you are living in a well-irrigated desert, and the illusion of green grass lays on top of the barren ground underneath. Sometimes it’s nice to help someone pull the sod up, and finally appreciate the beauty of life in the desert, however small or prickly it may be.
This is another book that speaks from a different perspective…the perspective of the creative artist.
Artists have it bad, because we see everything from a different angle. We get distracted on Sundays because of the way the light is shining on the curtains. We find it interesting how the Pastor uses different words than we do, and spend time writing down these different words on index cards during the sermon, rather than listening to the sermon. Artists are going to argue and fight and roll their eyes over really basic things: like the use of the color beige.
So to throw theology at them is like throwing paint onto oil. You might get some of it to stick, but it’s still going to be just colorful oil in the end.
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