I solder the body electric
I’ve been “reading” a lot of books lately, thanks to the magic of audio books on my phone. I use the word reading loosely here, since it feels like a lot less work for a slow reader like me. Yet, I can’t argue with the science that confirms that, while listening to the spoken word, the brain is activated in much the same way as reading the words for oneself.
With that in mind, here’s what I’ve enjoyed recently…
One of my most precious parenting rituals is reading to my children before their bedtimes. My son is in love with the Magic Tree House series, having read (listened) to probably 90% of the collection twice over by now.
Letters from a Skeptic by Gregory A. Boyd
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This book was incredibly helpful to me during my faith deconstruction, long before I even had the language to call it that.
What struck me the most about it was its compassion. Boyd has this rigor in his delivery somehow without being dogmatic. So instead of being exhausting, as most Evangelical religious treatise are, he comes across as being earnest and loving.
I have so many underlines in my copy, I can’t possibly get rid of it. Which is a very good thing.
Life After God by Douglas Coupland
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I have an embarrassing number of highlights, underlines, and margin notes in this book. I’m a picky person with picky tastes, and yet this is one of those few books that just resonated with me deeply.
It’s format is unique, which I think hooked me from the beginning. It’s structured like a diary, so it feels extremely intimate. It’s confessional and raw. It’s philosophical and meditative. It’s spiritual and contemplative.
Life After God was one of those stepping stone books for me. It came to me at a time in my life when I was beginning to branch out of Evangelical Christianity to discover what it was that I really believed.
Needless to say, this thing will be on my bookshelf forever. Thanks, Douglas.
I owe my reading life to Mom. I remember her reading to my sister and me throughout our childhood. I think there’s power in the spoken word for a young child; my imagination was exercised regularly very early on.
And now I see how that cycle is repeating, as I read books to Iris at bedtime. I find myself reading like Mom, borrowing the cadence and sentiment. Mom’s a great reader.
One of my favorites was a Christian allegorical book 1. It was set in a medieval period; part fantasy, part adventure, the children were the only seers among the adults as to the true nature of the missing king in the land. It was a wonderful book with big ideas.
Another good memory of Mom and books was later when I was a young teenager. My church youth pastor had formed several small study groups. I was placed in one where the group book was to be one of the Navigators theology books. At that age, my comprehension for anything non-science fiction or fantasy was pretty meager. Being a very tightly wound kid, I was worried sick about this class. Mom saw my stress and came to my rescue. She read the book to me, and I retained the book despite its density.
And now, Mom is still imparting that love of books along to Iris. She started this fun little periodic “book club” with Iris a while back. She calls it her “IGOBC” 2. Every month or so, we get a IGOBC package with a new book and note. Iris’ library is filling up and that’s a good thing.
Thanks, Mom, for investing in me the value of books and reading. We are passing that on to the next generation.
Mom informs me that the title was Tales of the Kingdom. Seeing the jacket again brings back such good memories.
It’s hard to understand the self-destructive impulse in some people. Take for instance, Chris McCandless. Continue reading “the wilderness between fathers & sons”
A very good friend from college sent me a wonderful house (apartment) warming gift:
Continue reading “Interrogations at Noon”