4 picture books that explore what it's like to be a refugee

I'm a little late on this post as Thanksgiving Day has passed, but honestly, why should feelings of gratitude and thankfulness abruptly give way to the materialistic frenzy of Black Friday? They shouldn't. I'm still immensely thankful to have a lovely home and to have my family near me: safe, happy and healthy. And when so many in this world do not have a home and are not able to keep their families safe and happy and healthy, I hope I'll continue to be thankful regardless of the day or season. In particular, knowing that hundreds of thousands of Syrian men, women and children are terrorized and displaced by ISIS humbles me. The heated debates over this crisis in the news and on social media show that it's easy to let fear, mistrust, self-righteousness and self-love be the lens through which we see the world. But because of Jesus, I'm compelled toward compassion, and I hope to model it for my boys. So with these thoughts in mind, I bring you four moving picture books (found at my local library) that make the concept of a refugee a little more personal.

For me, How Many Days To America?: A Thanksgiving Story by Eve Bunting and illustrated by Beth Peck perfectly united both a sense of gratitude for our country's freedoms and bounties as well as a sense of duty to maintain our long tradition of receiving those who are fleeing religious and political persecution. For my kids, it tells a rather gripping tale of a family who leave all their possessions behind to escape their Caribbean island home by boat. They face rough weather, food shortages, pirates and rejection from other potential destinations before finally being received in the United States on Thanksgiving day. While I found the story engrossing and my boys aged 2-7 stayed tuned in to the end, they were mostly interested in knowing whether pirates still existed today and why the pirates in the book didn't look like the Veggie Tale variety.

Chapman's "Growing Up Social" offers new perspective to the screen-dependent family

So, somehow I thought I had written this review already. But apparently I did not. Maybe because subconsciously I was feeling guilty about my use of screens as baby-sitters of late. Over the past four months, we've moved 8 1/2 hours away from the only home my three boys have ever known. We've lived with family and friends, started a new school and new jobs. Transition has a way of wrecking hard-wrought schedules or forestalling good intentions. This is all a fancy way of confessing that sometimes I let my older boys play on pbskids.org or lego.com for 3 hours straight. Sometimes my 2-year-old watches his favorite episode of Curious George (the one with the mariachi band) three times in a row. And it keeps me sane for those hours... and it also makes my younger two boys super cranky and ungrateful when it's time to unplug. There. I've gotten that off my chest.

I knew I needed a book like Growing Up Social: Raising Relational Kids in a Screen-Driven World, co-authored by Alrene Pellicane and Gary Chapman of 5 Love Languages fame. I aspire to have children who play outside whenever its above freezing, who read books for fun, and who play together using their imaginations. I want my boys to value creativity and generosity and kindness over the accumulation of stuff. I feel like this book speaks to that longing.

Metaxas' "Seven Women" leaves many secrets to greatness a bit of a mystery

After reading best-selling evangelical biographer Eric Metaxas' 7 Men, I was so happy to see an excerpted chapter about Corrie Ten Boom for his then-upcoming 7 Women and the Secret of Their Greatness. Overall, this book has introduced me to the remarkable, difficult, impacting lives of seven women, some of whom I knew very little about. And, as with any book that includes stories of far-flung missionaries, holocaust survivors and martyrs, I was left pondering my own life's work.

And I was left with questions. Lots of them. Like, what is greatness, exactly? Is it maintaining your convictions to the end, like Joan of Arc? Is it a general measure of one's faithfulness, skill, or impact on others? Or is greatness something specific, like ministering to hundreds of thousands like Mother Teresa? Or like using one's God-given gifts to turn the tide of public opinion against institutionalized evil like Hannah More? Or simply learning to forgive staggering wrongs, like Corrie Ten Boom? Or is it all of these, in the form of doing what you alone can do in your unique situation in time and place with your unique set of characteristics and abilities and weaknesses? If you're familiar with my approach to life, you'll know I prefer the latter, open-ended possibility. I think in many ways, since Metaxas never really tries to synthesize all seven stories into one central "secret of womanly greatness," he might agree with or at least permit my foggy conclusion. For this reason, I found the book a worthwhile read.

Review of Believe Storybook by Randy Frazee

The Parrinos have been on the move lately...in particular, we've moved from Hopkinsville, KY to Cleveland, OH. With our family in flux, I'm longing for some consistency. Just before we moved, I began reading the Believe Storybook: Think Act Be Like Jesus, written by Randy Frazee and illustrated in a rich, evocative style by Steve Adams. Unlike most of the children's bibles in our collection, this is a weighty book. A hefty 256 pages measuring 9 x 11 inches, and 2.8 pounds, the Believe Storybook is arranged into three 10-chapter sections: Think, Act and Be. Each chapter teaches a particular theme using one old and one new testament story.

According to the cover, this devotional, based on the popular Believe series of devotionals, is geared for ages 4 and up. I have a 4-year-old, but he only sat next to his big brother and I for about 30 seconds before scampering off to grab another book off the shelf.

Review of "Just Babies" by Paul Bloom

Several years ago, developmental psychologist Paul Bloom found babies preferred puppets they saw as helpful or kind over those who acted mean or unhelpful. In his book Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil, Bloom expands on these findings to try to uncover the source of human morality. I remember seeing a 60 Minutes segment on Bloom's study, so I was curious to read what other insights the Yale professor had to share. While I enjoyed Bloom's wit and breadth of knowledge, this book eventually disappointed me. The scientific analysis in Just Babies is not the kind that inspired me to my truest, best self. Instead, Bloom seems to employ dozens of studies involving babies, children and adults to reduce everything that makes us human to products of natural selection-- from our sense of right and wrong, to gut reactions, to compassion and altruism. In the end, reading Bloom's version of the natural history of morality left me feeling demoralized.

What I initially liked about the book was Bloom's candid, approachable style. Here's an accomplished scholar who humanizes the cold clinical data by inserting himself into hypothetical scenarios involving run-away trolley cars and drowning children. At first, I was happily carried along by the author's survey of various experiments and his quirky sense of humor. I found myself hypothesizing what other reasons babies might prefer right-doers and try to punish wrong-doers at a few months old. Are babies hardwired with a sense of justice? If they are, is this a virtue written on our hearts by God or teased out of the genetic pool by evolution over the eons? Could this behavior be explained away as learned behavior-- which, having raised three babies myself, I would bet that infants are absorbing information from their families long before they are explicitly taught right and wrong. So then, are we born as moral blank slates? Or are we born originally sinful and depraved?

I had fun exploring these possibilities within my own Christ-centered worldview. But eventually Bloom's relentless reliance on evolution as the force, source and, basically, the answer to all the questions of the universe, made reading the last third of the book a chore for me. When he finally acknowledges the possible role religion has on shaping morals, he argues that our morals came first and religion followed, using examples of the harm done in the name of God. I think many people who are serious about their faith will make a big distinction between those who zealously emphasize right beliefs and those who feel led by a Higher Power to lives of love, compassion and service. Bloom seems to lump all versions of religion together, and in so doing, can easily claim that morals couldn't possibly spring from what he quotes C.S. Lewis calling "the voice of God within our souls" (189). To this and other philosophers and scientists who propose evolution couldn't possibly produce our level of morality, Bloom compares them to "men marveling at eyeglasses and arguing that since natural selection couldn't have created such intricate wonders they must be the handiwork of God" (190).

Just as the eyeglasses were wrought by human hands, Bloom argues that human morality is a product of our prodigious brains' "magnificent capacity for reason" (218). I took this epiphany in the final paragraph of the final chapter of the book to be the author's attempt at saying there's something special and inspiring and noteworthy and mysterious about our human preoccupation with good and evil after all. But if pressed, I believe Bloom would concede that even this inspiring added ingredient to evolution's moral recipe is a product of ... natural selection. Therefore, as a Christian (and even as one who is open to the idea of theistic evolution) I don't recommend this book, which I feel would give false comfort to atheists and a trolley car full of cognitive dissonance to even the most open-minded Christians, not to mention abrasive annoyance to staunch Creationists.

*I received a complimentary copy of this book from Blogging For Books in exchange for my honest review.*

Review of "I Can Learn the Bible" by Holly Hawkins Shivers

As a mom of three little boys, I'm always on the lookout for devotional materials for the preschool and kindergarten set. With my oldest, I've read several children's bibles, such as The Big Picture Bible, The Jesus Storybook Bible, I Can Read New Testament, and Jesus Calling Bible Storybook to name some. Holly Hawkins Shiver's I Can Learn the Bible: 52 Scriptures Every Kid Should Know, is a children's adaptation of her father's popular devotional, The Joshua Code. It is listed as being for ages 4-8, so I was keen to get my hands on it. The book is designed to be used over the course of a year, but I decided to test out a few of the devotions on my 6-year-old and 3-year-old over the course of a week. As with all devotionals and children's story Bibles, I feel that the key is to adapt the material to my children's level of comprehension and interests. In Shiver's new resource, I found plenty of material to help my boys ponder their Maker, but most of that required me to be a very active reader, tweaking some of the wordings and being open to their honest questions. Here's some of the highlights and hiccups we encountered:

Highlights
I've not read The Joshua Code, so I can't comment on how much of Shivers' exposition is her original insight or thoughts adapted from her father's book. However, I liked the way she explained Romans 8:28 by comparing God's working all things for good to cooking up a batch of homemade biscuits. While individual ingredients, such as baking powder or flour would taste awful by themselves, Shivers explains, "Like those yucky ingredients, some things in life 'taste' bad to us or make us very sad" (31). I thought this was clever, and my 6-year-old was held by the metaphor. Other deep yet kid-friendly moments included Shiver's use of "Opposite Day" to describe God's Kingdom, in which the King is a servant, the greatest shall be the least and the first last. In week 17, Shivers presents the Bible's famous shortest verse, "Jesus cried." She explains that Christ's tears were not because he was sad that Lazarus died, after all, he could easily resurrect him. Instead, Jesus was feeling empathy for his friend's bitterly grieving sisters. This opened up a moment for me to ask Stephen whether he'd ever cried when someone else was very sad. My son couldn't relate to this, but quickly came up with his own example of how he laughs when his friend laughs or feels happy when those he cares about are happy.

Hiccups
As much as I liked Shiver's treatment of the Lazarus story, I couldn't completely rely on the text to enlighten my children. The book's illustrations are in a quirky, whimsical style and employ a mix of animal and human characters. Because "Jesus Wept" is accompanied by a cat crying a puddle of tears, my 3-year-old innocently asked, "Is that Jesus?" We all got a good belly laugh out of that. Additionally, the second part of the devotion shifts to talking about Psalm 56:8, in which God keeps our tears in his bottle. At this, my oldest shouts, "His bottle?! Does God drink our tears?" In my own reading of the psalms, I've always found this wording a little bit weird and figured something must be lost in the translation. So I told Stephen that the psalm also says God writes our cares in his book, an idea that is a little easier for him to grasp and conveys the spirit of the verse without conjuring up Alice in Wonderland scenes.

I didn't read the entire book to my boys, but read through it myself--something I recommend doing for all devotionals parents plan to read to their kids! There are a few other weeks I might skip or verbally rewrite when I do get a chance to share them with my boys. For example, week 26 features God looking at our hearts rather than external appearance in 1 Samuel 16:7. I think this an entirely appropriate topic for children, however Shivers writes that, "You might think things like, I am too short, I am too skinny, or My hair is ugly" (116). This gave me pause. Many children between the ages 4-8 are still blissfully unaware of their physical appearance. My 6-year-old has always been at least a head shorter than his classmates, but only recently realized it and doesn't see it as a flaw. For some children, hearing that they might think these negative thoughts would actually be their first introduction to these thoughts. As a side note, this is why it's so important that we as parents don't practice negative self-talk in earshot of our kids. Other parents may have kids who have already expressed discontentment with their physical appearance, and this would be a perfect devotion to read with them.

My final critique is Shivers' exposition of "God's phone number," Jeremiah 33:3. The verse reads, "Pray to me, and I will answer you. I will tell you important secrets. You have never heard these things before" (54). Despite the obvious emphasis on God speaking and, presumably, the praying person listening, the entire devotion emphasizes that we can talk to God and tell him everything and get things off our chest, and thank him when we're done. She writes, "When you are talking to a friend, one of you is talking and the other is listening. That is the way communications works. Well, prayer is the talking part of our relationship with God" (55). She also implies that God's answer is simply that He picks up the "phone" and will always be ready to listen to us whenever we pray. I don't dispute any of this, of course. But Shivers implies that we do all the talking. And, if I'm honest, many of my prayers are one-sided conversations. This is why I've been intentional about encouraging my son to listen for God's still small voice. To hear God's answers to his questions, and to even, like Samuel, hear God's speaking when he hasn't asked for an answer.

So, in conclusion, I plan to continue using I Can Learn the Bible with my sons because it is a book that opens up space to talk about God's word with simple metaphors and playful images. However, this book, like all children's bibles, requires that I tune into God's moment-by-moment rhema word to be able to flesh out some of the devotions and trim others to best meet my children's needs.

*Thanks to BookLook Bloggers for sending me a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.*

Books to teach gratitude to moms

Well, I couldn't very well post some children's books on gratitude without recommending a couple of books for grown-ups. As much as I'm a fan of literature-based learning, the "book" my children read everyday is my life. I model my heart of gratitude (or greed) each day through what I say, what I spend my time doing and what expression I wear on my face. Usually what I've been reading and pondering have a big impact on the story I live.

If you're following me on this thought, here are two books I highly recommend to help put things into proper perspective:

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Vosskamp
I read this book two years ago after a dear friend gave it to me. In our current culture of always wanting more, more, more, Vosskamp turns our attention to the countless blessings we already have. The farmer's wife and mother of six takes Philippians 4:8 to heart and task, by keeping her eyes and heart wide open for what things are lovely, virtuous and pure in her everyday life. Vosskamp shares both her struggles with anxiety and the simple practice of keeping a gratitude journal that refocused her eyes on everyday miracles and freed her from pain. The opening chapter of the book does contain a very tragic memory of losing her sister at a young age, which might be a trigger for some readers who have faced similar losses. Vosskamp's poetic writing style takes a little getting used to, as she has a dreamy, stream of consciousness approach to retelling some of her story. But once you fall into the rhythm of her voice, you'll probably feel inspired to start recording your own list of daily gifts and writing poetically. I loved the way she was able to transform the most mundane moment into something holy. Her musing on nature and moments with her children resonated with me especially. You might also enjoy her beautiful blog, A Holy Experience, which incidentally, is where I learned about the author and ministry of the following book:

Kisses From Katie by Katie Davis
Cultivating gratitude goes beyond just counting our blessings and feeling good about our lives. A deep seated gratitude releases us and fuels us to live the way we were created to live in God's image. In The Message, the latter half of Romans 12:1 is translated "Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit in without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you." Ponder those words for a moment. What would that look like in real life? If you want to see what that counter-culture lifestyle looks like, read this book.

Born and raised in the ritzy suburbs of Nashville, Katie Davis lived a charmed American life. Homecoming queen, top of her class, she says in her introduction that she, "dated cute boys, wore cute shoes and drove a cute sports car." She was on a track to go to college, marry her sweetheart and live a comfortable life. Kisses From Katie tells the story of how she fell head-over-heals in love with Jesus and the people of an impoverished Ugandan village during a short-term missions trip. It's been more than five years, and Davis is still in Uganda. She's bid goodbye to her former life and culture. And she's so thankful for the materially spartan but busy and spiritually rich life she now lives. She's started Amazima, a ministry that sponsors children so they can attend school and stay with their birth families. More importantly, she's become adoptive mother to 14 children.

Now, when I first read about Davis adopting all these children, some of whom she nursed back to health from the brink of starvation and fatal disease, I was a little skeptical- perhaps even defensive. How could a girl in her early twenties truly be a mom to all those kids? I mean, I have trouble truly loving my tiny brood of three most days. I thought she must have been more like a teacher at an orphanage school or a den mom at a girl's home than a real mom. But by the second half of the book, I saw; no, I felt her mother's heart for her girls. And I saw what it looks like to be genuinely yielded to God, and filled to overflowing with his Spirit of love. Davis recognized what God wanted from her and quickly responded to it. In return, he brought out the best in her. I'm not going to give away more of the plot because I want you to read this book. For my fellow Hoptowners, it will be at the library this weekend after I return it :).

Review of "In This House We Will Giggle" by Courtney DeFeo

I'm always looking for inspiration and encouragement as I raise three energetic and unique little boys. The title of Courtney DeFeo's book, In This House We Will Giggle: Making Virtues, Love & Laughter a Daily Part of Your Family Life, attracted me because it signaled a book full of grace rather than legalistic "training." 

Overview

Each chapter in We Will Giggle is devoted to one of 12 virtues: love, joy, forgiveness, faith, patience, perseverance, respect, responsibility, service, humility, gratitude and generosity. These chapters begin with a short kid-friendly definition of the featured virtue before flowing into Courtney and her many mentors’ and friends’ thoughts on instilling this virtue into children.

In each chapter, DeFeo also offers a memory verse, talking points, and a lesson plan with discussion questions, a big family activity, shorter optional activities and a corresponding passage to read out of Sally Lloyd-Jones’ The Jesus Storybook Bible. There are also "60 Ways to Bring out the Giggles" sidebars sprinkled throughout the book. It was a lot to take in at first glance, and took me a couple of chapters before I settled into the rhythm of all the components. But instead of letting myself get overwhelmed, I took DeFeo’s advice from the preface to heart: “I encourage you to customize all these resources to fit the style and needs of your family, discarding anything that doesn’t work and mixing in your own creative ideas” (9).

What Spoke to Me

DeFeo’s chapters on Forgiveness, Patience, Perseverance and Humility especially resonated with me, as evidenced by the amount of my underlining, starring and scribbling in the margins. I was especially inspired by her prayer and vision for homes where “we hear their hearts and take responsibility for our part in any conflict. Homes where we never expect perfection but commit to continued growth, where we end difficult conversations with a hug, and where we always point one another back to the only perfect way: the love of Jesus” (51-52). Apologies are not just hollow niceties, but true forgiveness is a “bridge to personal freedom” with a focus on “building relationships” and “nurturing healthy hearts” (57). These are life lessons that many adults have never learned.

As a mom who often caves to every little whimper or trembling lip, I needed to hear DeFeo’s thoughts on the importance of instilling perseverance. The next time I’m tempted to rescue one of my sons from discomfort or struggle, I will have to borrow DeFeo’s line: “‘No, you cannot quit; take a break, but you must finish,’” in order to give them the “gift of character growth and a lifetime of hope” (117).

I’m also keen on her insights into the “tension between humility and confidence.” DeFeo says she never wants her girls to develop an attitude of superiority, yet she strives to raise them to be passionate in their identity in Christ and confident enough to “lead boldly from their gifts” (194). I’ve made this a part of my prayer for my sons as well.

What Didn't

I was a little disappointed that the idea of giggling as an addictive way to instill virtues and godly behavior wasn’t emphasized as much as I expected. I thought this would be the centerpiece of the book, but goofiness mostly appeared in the somewhat disjointed and distracting “60 Ways to Bring Out the Giggles” sidebars that peppered the already busy pages of the book. Having said that, I understand not every teaching moment can or should be full of raucous laughter. However, it made me think the title of the book was a ploy to set it apart from the many other great parenting books that present a similar message of grace.

Another little qualm I had stems from the fact that I’m raising three boys who love to wrestle, rough house or hole up in their rooms building with Legos for hours on end. They don’t care much about exploring their emotions or creating crafty gratitude tote bags or picture journals. (I wish they did, as that would be more fun for me!) DeFeo’s experience raising girls didn’t always translate to my own experience in the land of dirty hands and bug boxes. To her credit, DeFeo includes a few stories about her friend’s little boys. But overall, I found myself thinking, “I could never get this to work with mine.” And… regarding the book's visuals, the abundant daisy and curlicue design elements were a bit much for this minimalist designer’s taste.

My Take-Away

We Will Giggle has got my own creative juices flowing as I’m encouraged to teach virtues more deliberately in my own home. I like the idea of taking it slow, with one virtue emphasis per month, and plan to incorporate DeFeo’s simple, illuminating definitions and catch phrases into my own conversations. I would recommend this book to other moms, especially homeschooling mothers or even Sunday school teachers who are looking for interesting and generally low-budget activities and projects to help get kids thinking about and practicing the virtues Jesus exhibits.

*I received this book from Blogging ForBooks in exchange for an honest review.*