Saturday, May 23, 2026

The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald

I'm loosely following the Close Reads podcast, and they read this book. I'm familiar with George MacDonald, one of C.S. Lewis' inspirations, so I decided to give it a try. The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald is an adorable story I hope to read to my grandkids someday.

It's a sweet fairy tale, in the best possible sense, about a young princess growing up in the shadow of the mountains that house the Goblins. A young man, the eleven-year-old son of a miner, named Curdie, befriends her. With the help of her ancient, mystical great, great, grandmother Princess Irene grows into a true princess, battling goblins and rescuing the boy! Throughout the story, she must learn to patiently love those around her who don't believe what she believes and in the process grows in grace.

It's a delightful tale, one of the "right" kinds of books that Lewis says Eustice had not read!

Friday, May 22, 2026

A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller

Our book club made an odd choice: Non-fiction and theological. But I loved A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller. The author calls the reader to a prayer life filled with helplessness, humility, and childlike faith.

He begins by describing the relationship Jesus had with the Father. It's one of utter dependence. Despite the fact that Jesus, alone among humans, is the only person who could truly declare himself capable of living independently of God, he is the only human who has ever fully dedicated himself to live at one with the Father. We are to become "like little children," wholly trusting in and depending on the Father, moment by moment. Miller says about Jesus when he contemplated the separation he would feel on the cross, "He had never experienced a moment when he wasn't in communion with his Father. Jesus' anguish is our normal." (p. 33) This hit me hard. Do I anguish over my lack of engagement with God the way Jesus did?

Unfortunately in our modern era, we have allowed cynicism to replace trust. Even Christian will try to give their cynicism a gloss of religiosity by becoming stoic and acting as if they are fine with whatever God does, that it doesn't matter to them at all. Jesus was neither a cynic nor a stoic nor an eternal optimist. He wholeheartedly gave himself to the Father and cried out with anguish when he saw hurt and injustice. The Father wants us to come to Him aware of reality but fully trusting in Him. Miller says, "I am not called to put on rose-colored glasses and see everything in life as pretty and good and uplifting. Rather, I am called to trust that God sees what I see." (p. 72)

As children, we are to come to the Father asking "anything" in Jesus' name, that is, with his authority. That's an overwhelming promise if we truly believed it. The problem is that we don't. Again and again Jesus says that whatever we ask will be granted to us. But how does that work? Can I ask for a million dollars and expect it show up on my doorstep? Apparently not. Rather we are to have an attitude of ask in expectancy and desire, while maintaining a sense of surrender: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's "if not" faith. We desire, we ask for our deepest desires, trusting that God placed those desires in our hearts in the first place, we hope, we wait, and we accept His perfect answer. He said we can ask for the impossible, for "nothing is impossible with God." He gave as an example asking for a mountain to fall into the sea, yet we struggle to ask for renewed relationships, remarkable healing, and the resurrection of long abandoned dreams. We have not because we ask not. What a convicting truth. God wants me to come to him with my real childlike self and ask for anything. So often we think either that God doesn't care about a particular desire, or that it's too selfish or frivolous. But how do you have a relationship with someone to whom you cannot tell your heart's desire. He gives the example of a vacation home. What if, instead of worrying and saving and planning and researching and stressing about our ability to afford a vacation home, we simply told the Father that it's our desire, but that we would rest and submit to His good plan. Let Him delight to provide and "make our joy complete." What a waste to not ask, not because then we won't receive, but because when we do receive we fail to see it as a gift from Him. In all this asking, we must also ask that he change me. I must allow Him to conform me to the likeness of His Son so that my desires begin to align with His. This one scares us because He might actually do it!

But what happens when we ask and the Father is long in answering? We learn to live in the story. So often God's answer is, "Not yet." He's working, moving the pieces, waiting for the time, and so often that feels like abandonment. It's ok to feel abandoned. In fact, one of the charges against Israel was that they failed to cry out to God when they felt alone and hopeless. God wants us to come to Him in lament when we are in the midst of the story. God is not a genie for whom we snap our fingers, and He obeys our command. What kind of relationship would it be if we did not learn to wait and trust? It would not be a relationship at all. In fact, Miller says that we live in the "Desert" between "Hope" and "Reality." This is where our story is being written. If we fall into denial, or determination, or despair, we miss the story He is writing. Rather we are to turn to Him, (not complain to those around us) with our reality and then place our hope in Him. It is in the desert that we experience communion with Him as together we walk the path He has laid out. Not knowing how the story ends is the hardest part. That takes us back to that childlike trust. As we walk in the desert, we must believe "three things about God: First, God is sovereign. He can do something. Second, God is love. He is for me. He wants to do something. And finally, God is a covenant-keeping God. He is bound by his own word. He will do something." (p. 186)

I love the way Miller sums up our role:
"1. Don't demand that the story go your way. (In other words, surrender completely.)
2. Look for the Storyteller. Look for his hand, and then pray in light of what you are seeing. (In other words, develop an eye for Jesus.)
3. Stay in the story. Don't shut down when it goes the wrong way...When the story isn't going your way, ask yourself, 'What is God doing?'" (p. 205)

We are not victims in our story. We are constantly being made to die to self and trust in the Giver of Life. It is only in relationship with the Father that any of this life begins to make sense and achieve purpose. And that relationship is formed in the crux of the desert as we ask, wait, and watch. He is for us, not against us and delights to give us the desires of our hearts, while transforming both our hearts and our desire.

Saturday, May 16, 2026

The Quartet by Joseph J. Ellis

I'd had The Quartet by Joseph J. Ellis on my list for awhile. I don't even remember where the recommendation came from. But I am so glad I read this book. 

Obviously, I know a thing or two about American history, but this book brought some events at the time of the Founding into sharp relief and connected dots I had not. 

It's contention is that Washington, Madison, Hamilton, and John Jay together, through their sheer force of will, reimagined what the American Revolution was about and shaped the American Constitution to reflect their will. It's pretty compelling.

What was clear to all was that America stood on a precipice. What would it be now that it had won its independence from Britain. That single goal united all thirteen colonies, but they were united by little else. 

In fact, all the struggles Washington faced to fund the army through a recalcitrant Congress presaged the even harder battle after the war was won. Each state truly saw themselves as independent states. They united to defeat the British, but how to pay for that or how to run a united country afterwards was not a consideration. They had no desire to be the United States. Once the war was over, they did not even see the need for a functioning Congress. Of the delegates elected after the war, less than half even bothered to show up. The fact that we did not have an Executive or Judicial branch made perfect sense. Why would these thirteen, independent states need either. After all, hadn't they just thrown off an executive and judicial system which had tyrannized them? The Articles of Confederation, which controlled the colonies during the war, were intentionally weak, and apparently probably temporary. 

Washington recognized right away the trouble the nation was in. He despaired that he had fought for an independent United States just to see it quickly devolve into myriad self-interested, squabbling petty kingdoms. As long as each state retained its sovereignty, they did not think about common commerce, paying debts, military protection, or foreign policy. Any attempt to promulgate a stronger central government was derided as a return to the monarchy they had just thrown off. Yet Washington clearly saw the anarchy this opened America up to. Small states would be helpless in the face of an unpaid and angry military. States would eventually war with each other over boundaries, navigation rights, etc. And all would be sitting ducks to European powers just waiting for the dust to clear. 

John Jay went to England to negotiate the peace treaty after the war. So ineffective was the Continental Congress he left behind that he had no clear instructions or even a way to actually ratify the treaty he finally negotiated. Even when he came back with a phenomenal acquiesces from the British giving Americans all the land east of the Mississippi, the states' suspicions of each other prevented us from taking advantage of it. Unbelievably the North and South already looked at each other as competitors. Since the treaty would open up so much heretofore unclaimed land, both believed the other would use it to their disadvantage. Washington, a surveyor, knew the unbelievable gift the land was and was horrified that no one else seemed to see it. Jay saw what Washington saw and knew that a collection of infighting states would lead to one of the biggest missed opportunities in history.

Because Hamilton was not raised in a colony, he had no prejudicial connection to any one territory. In fact, he clearly saw the need for a united nation and the promise of political and economic advancement on the table. He also believed the war was about independence, not the overthrow of a particular type of governing system. He might have been ok returning to a monarchy as long as it was an American monarchy. He believed in America. He believed in the United States. He had no patience for The Thirteen Headstrong Squabbling States. 

But even with these heavy hitters, America owes all to Madison. It was he who saw most clearly the need for a central government to unite the colonies. Despite the fact that he felt a strong connection to his native country, Virginia, he worked tirelessly behind the scenes to push and prod the biggest players to come together to write a new governing document that would unite the disparate states into one country. A true politician, he waited until the moment was right, after Shay's Rebellion scared men like Washington into action. Although Hamilton jumped the gun in his excitement, calling a convention to "revise" the Articles, Madison politicked behind the scenes making sure delegates amenable to radical change would be the ones to show up. 

Then he developed a plan: The Virginia Plan. It gave each state power based on population, which coincidentally Virginia excelled in, and it gave the central government control over states' laws, meaning Virginia control over states laws. He lost in both arenas, rightfully so. But, he sparked a conversation about how to maintain the states' role in a federal government. Myriad compromises meant the line between state and national power would be blurred again and again. It would be up to future generation to find that line, but the seed was planted. Together these four laid out the principles that the Revolutionary War should have been fought for, but honestly wasn't. 

The book does a fantastic job of showing how close we came to winning our independence only to lose it again due to our own stubbornness, pride, and stupidity. Without these four men, we do not get the United States of America. These men saw with an exceptional kind of clarity the opportunity being handed to the states, a kind of clarity other mere mortals did not have. Through sheer force of will they created the nation we have today.

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Theo of Golden by Allen Levi

A good friend recommended Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. It is the sweet tale of a stranger, Theo, who arrives in Golden, Georgia. 

After noticing portraits lining the walls of the local coffeeshop, he sets out on a mission to bestow the portraits on their subject.

His generosity is always met with incredulity and a story. Each person he meets becomes a friend and a bit of a confidant. Some of the people remain in his life throughout the year he lives in Golden and some move on soon after receiving the gift.

Relatively early in his stay, however, he has the need to confide his full name and story to a local businessman from whom he rents a third-story apartment. It is in this small way that we begin to realize that there is more to Theo than he lets on.

Most of the book continues filling up with people and stories and the interactions they share. It's sweet, but certainly is not a plot-driven book. But the secret of Theo's identity hangs out there, tantalizing the reader. Occasionally Levi reminds us that there is more to the story, but it often sounds nefarious. 

This is where I hate myself for saying it, because so much of the book is worth reading, but the fact that this is Levi's first book becomes apparent. 

He ends the book in a way that is so pat and so obviously planned from before the book was written. It's the "elevator pitch" come to life. I felt very let down by the many strings all suddenly revealed and then connected. In the hands of a much more skillful writer, like a Charles Dickens, it could have been so much better. It's too abrupt and too perfect. 

Oh well. It was a sweet read while it lasted.