How does this work? We flash forward in time and don’t bother with the “previously on” introduction. We just show the new world and expect the audience is intelligent enough to piece it all together.
My husband has been on a video call with one of his closest friends for the past 2 hours. I can hear them talking and laughing, and I know this is good for his soul. When I went downstairs to make some toast (using bread he made from an old family recipe) I heard them discussing the theological, historical, and literary references in Perelandra.
Mondays are the hardest. Today was overcast so my internal monologue definitely started repeating the whiny intro drone of that Carpenters song.
I think I know one reason why it’s so hard – it USED to be re-entry. Returning to the grind, to the work, having to put on real clothes and pack a lunch and figure out how to tackle a new week. But now, I think what’s difficult for me is that every day feels mostly the same. I am working, from home, and am so thankful for the job. But I can roll out of bed, unwashed, unkempt, and just start the work by walking a few feet.
We’re bringing home a puppy next month, and we’re both reading a few dog books so we can be on the same page. Honestly, I think the puppy’s need for structure is going to be good for me. With no good reason to clean off the dining room table (nobody’s coming over) or put on real clothes…or, if I’m honest, to take a shower…we’re just aimless.
So here we are. Perhaps some processing in this space will give me some direction. Perhaps it won’t. Let’s find out!
After reading a number of dense and/or difficult books, I needed to return to one of my faves! This was at least my third time through this book, and I enjoy it immensely each time – despite the HIDEOUS cover photo.
This book was wonderful! I’d seen it in bookstores and on various lists – like most Jodi Picoult novels, it seemed to be omnipresent – but I had not idea what it was about when a friend pressed it into my hand and assured me that I would LOVE it. It’s about race, which is my favorite topic to read about these days. I’ll share the author’s words about this book, which are going to sell it much better than I could.
This book is doing good work. It’s written by a white man – a pastor from a suburb of Chicago who kept failing to plant churches in the inner city. (Cringes and eye-rolls expected.)
He’s incredibly honest and humble, and the journey of this book starts when a friend points out that whiteness is a culture of it’s own. As he becomes aware of what cultural whiteness means, the book travels through emotional states – encounter, denial, disorientation, shame, self-righteousness, awakening, and active participation.
This book is my go-to recommendation, particularly for Christians from older generations, who believe it’s helpful that they “don’t see race.” But I believe it’s useful for all of us, because I deeply identified with those middle chapters about shame and self-righteousness! It’s only when we can get past all of these unhelpful reactions (aka our white fragility) that we can truly start listening to what people of color have been trying to tell us for decades.