Review of Donald Miller's "Scary Close"

As much as I like reading self-help and how-to, the most impactful life lessons seem to come from watching those I admire in their everyday moments or hearing their stories over a cup of tea. I think this is why I felt like I could learn so much from Blue Like Jazz author Donald Miller's newest book, Scary Close: Dropping the Act and Finding True Intimacy, which reads like a friend recounting poignant memories--some painful, some sweet. This might sound strange, but as I read, I got the feeling that if Miller could befriend my husband and I, he would. 

On the surface, this is a book about Miller's road to emotional health after years of failed relationships before he met his fiance (now wife). But it's really so much more than a book on how to marry the right person or to be the kind of person that snags a spouse or how to have a good marriage, though the principles could be applied to any of those pursuits. And, refreshingly, despite "intimacy" being in the subtitle, this is a Christian book on marriage, written by a man, that does not once mention sex (my husband was quick to point this out to me.) The intimacy Miller explores is the best kind of connection, honesty and closeness we can experience with our spouses, children, friends and even coworkers. He also writes a chapter on the "Five Kinds of Manipulators" to show the unhealthy behaviors we should avoid in ourselves and in potential relationships. Throughout the book, Miller's willingness to learn from others and to see himself as helpful to others has encouraged me to reframe my perception of my own relationships.

I finished the book feeling inspired by the many stories of healthy relationships and the insights gleaned from these examples. Between parents and children: Paul Young's story of rebuilding his family's trust after an affair had me in tears. Miller's picture of the relationship the Youngs have with their grown children now says it all: "In the past, when I've had dinner with them, I was surprised at how freely and openly they talked through whatever problem they were dealing with. It's as though their family was a refuge, a place where everybody could be themselves with no fear of being judged" (159).   Between husbands and wives: My favorite insight was Miller's musings on how his wife Betsy would not "complete him" a la Jerry Maguire. Instead, he writes that every human being has an eternal longing and thirst in their heart that will only be filled when Jesus returns. We can't expect even our closest relationship to fill that void, but we can enjoy experiencing that longing together with our spouse. There's also a bit where Miller writes up a business plan for his marriage that is way more awesome than it sounds. But I'm going to leave that as bait for you to get this book and read it with someone you love :)

It's not my habit to write glowing reviews without spending at least a paragraph or two on what I perceive as flaws in the book. So consider this my Valentine's Day present to the blogosphere. I truly enjoyed this book as a whole and am still musing, savoring and praying over its many facets.

*I would spend my own money on this book, but for the purposes of this review I received a free copy from the generous folks at BookLook in exchange for my honest opinion.*

Review of "Faith Shift" by Kathy Escobar

I was attracted to the title Faith Shift: Finding Your Way Forward When Everything You Believe Is Coming Apart by Kathy Escobar because my own Christian beliefs have evolved significantly since I first fell in love with Jesus in high school, and I suspect I'm not quite done shifting yet. Because of my past, I related to Escobar's own unnerving journey away from a belief system that once sustained her and framed her entire life. Through her new church plant, The Refuge, and her website, Escobar has learned the stories of hundreds of Christians who, though psychologically married to a church culture that requires adherence to an extensive set of beliefs and practices, are desperate for a a change. With these stories in mind, Escobar invites readers to "consider the possibility that your soul is not at risk," as they shed those once deeply-held convictions.

Perhaps because my own shift has been gradual, I found the first half of the book difficult to really embrace. Escobar reaches out to those who began as Christians and have shifted to spiritual-but-not-Christian, agnostic or even atheist. She offers multiple examples of ex-pastors becoming atheists as they heal from an abusive church setting. I expected this book to be about a shift in faith, rather than a complete severing of one's faith; however, "Severing" is actually one of the points on Escobar's diagram depicting the process of shifting.

For example, Fiona is a former pastor's wife who has dabbled with atheism, agnosticism and Christian agnosticism since a crisis of faith. To this, Escobar asserts, "Regardless of which label she wears on a particular day, the crucial truth she has needed to embrace for her healing is that she really is okay. No matter what she believes, she is going to be all right" (113). Since Escobar doesn't qualify or explain this sentiment, I felt pretty uncomfortable and wondered where where she would finally land. I'm guessing many readers who turn to the book in an attempt to salvage their Christian faith would also be troubled by this.

Because it contains so many anecdotes of those who completely left Christianity, the first half of the book seemed to present a contradictory message: Believe what you want to believe in order to heal from abuse or legalism or burn-out. Do what you need to do to recover emotionally, physically and spiritually. Question your long-held beliefs without fear because it will lead you to a deeper faith. Except when it doesn't. Which is also OK.

I just couldn't get OK with this message. But, fortunately, I didn't have to for long. If things were completely foggy a few pages before, Escobar makes it clear, "I am not promoting walking away from God" (115). And beginning in chapter 10, which discusses "The Stage of Rebuilding," I found the much needed glimpses of hope Escobar promises in her introduction. Here, Escobar beautifully articulates many things I've longed for in my own faith journey, such as a "desire for freedom, mystery and diversity -- instead of certainty, conformity or affiliation" (127). She proposes a Christian life that sees the world through a filter of "hopeful realism," honoring to those we meet from the "fused faith" of our past, accepting of our own doubts and expectantly open to new possibilities.

Escobar also encourages shifters to consider what remains of our previous faith, because each remaining essential belief is like a "treasured gem" that can illuminate a simple path forward (143). She offers the following sentence stem as a template for hashing out the diamonds: "Despite my doubt, I still believe ____________________" (146). In chapter 12, "Finding What Works," she provides plenty of examples of ways to connect with God that might be outside readers' previous church tradition. Trying a new prayer practice or reading books or bible versions considered taboo in one's former circle can be particularly freeing, Escobar writes, because it's less likely to trigger old memories, habits and shame.

The book closes with more resources, such as tips for those who find themselves shifting while their spouse is not, those concerned about their children's nascent faith during a parent's shift and non-shifters looking for ways to connect with friends or family members who are shifting. Additionally, a nice fat reading list of memoirs, theology and spirituality had me on Amazon looking up future reads.

I would tentatively recommend Faith Shift to someone who is really at a crossroads in their faith, but feels alone in the process. Despite Escobar's emphasis on the full process of Fusing, Shifting, Unraveling, Severing and Rebuilding, I would probably recommend that readers who are disenchanted with religion but still in love with Jesus, skim the first nine chapters and jump right to the good stuff of Rebuilding.

*Thanks to Blogging For Books for a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.*

Reflections on Brene Brown's "The Gifts of Imperfection"

This little book caught my attention with its lengthy title, The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are: Your Guide to a Wholehearted Life. I'd heard that Brene Brown conducts thousands of interviews to find common themes and patterns among those that lead what she calls "wholehearted" - fulfilling, happy, intentional, present lives- and those who don't.

This book presents sage advice teased out of all these interviews, tightly packed into 10 "guideposts" on the path to wholehearted living, including self-helpy suggestions like cultivating self-compassion and creativity, Christian virtues like gratitude and joy and somewhat surprising suggestions like taking time to laugh, sing and dance each day. Though it's not a parenting book, Brown uses examples from her own life and her sometimes fragile balancing act as a working mother. I found myself contemplating my parenting more than any other aspect of my life as I read, largely because I see my own worst behavior in my children on those particularly imperfect parenting days. An idea shared by many authors of parenting advice books, Brown believes "where we are on our journey of living and loving with our whole hearts is a much stronger indicator of parenting success than anything we can learn from how-to books."

Some additional quotes from Gifts of Imperfection I've been chewing on:
Avoid wasting time on guilty pleasures... or addictions:

"In another very unexpected discovery, my research also taught me that there’s no such thing as selective emotional numbing. There is a full spectrum of human emotions and when we numb the dark, we numb the light."

The trap of comparison: 

"At first it seems like conforming and competing are mutually exclusive, but they’re not. When we compare, we want to see who or what is best out of a specific collection of 'alike things.'"
"The comparison mandate becomes this crushing paradox of “fit in and stand out!” It’s not cultivate self-acceptance, belonging and authenticity; it’s be just like everyone else, but better."

The importance of creativity:

"There’s no such thing as creative people and non-creative people. There are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t."
"The only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world will be born of our creativity."

Getting off the hamster wheel:

"If we want to live a Wholehearted life, we have to become intentional about cultivating sleep and play, and about letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth."

In conclusion...

I liked the suggestions in this book. It's easily digestible, and most of the guideposts resonated with me. However, I found myself wondering "how to I actually do this? And how do I even remember to do all these things? And if I did do all these things, wouldn't I be perfect?" throughout much of it. While Brown's personal experiences were helpful and humorous, I craved some of the contents of those thousands of interviews with these mystical "wholehearted" people. I wanted to hear more of those success stories, to peer into their lives and see the guideposts in action. Obviously, this would be a different book altogether, and my craving probably couldn't be satisfied, as the contents of Brown's interviews are probably confidential. I don't doubt that she did find these patterns of behaviors and thoughts through out her careful research and analysis, but seeing some of the raw data would have been helpful to me. Perhaps I need to start collecting some stories myself.

Review of "Seeing is Believing" by Greg Boyd

I was interested in Greg Boyd's Seeing is Believing: Experience Jesus through Imaginative Prayer in part because I enjoyed Boyd's thoughtfulness in his other writings, but also because I've been sensing I need to go deeper in my prayer life lately. Boyd's premise is that using our imaginations while communing with and resting in Christ is not dangerous, fanciful or juvenile as Westerners are conditioned to think. Instead, our imagination is actually the way we behold Christ and reflect Him from one degree of glory to the next (2 Cor 3:18). Likewise, Boyd argues we can only really know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 4:6) by using our imagination to envision Him. Creating a mental image, and fleshing it out as completely as possible by using all five senses, Boyd argues, is essential for transformation. It is our feelings that influence our actions far more than mental knowledge. A vivid memory of our experience shapes us more than a memorized list of information.

Perhaps because I grew up in a church tradition that mistrusted both feelings and the imagination as vain, self-serving, and fleshly, I still feel some trepidation exercising my own imagination in prayer times. Boyd calls these times "resting in Christ," in contrast to the deceptive, try-harder, hide-your-faults mode that many of us instinctively perform during prayer.

So what does this actually look like? 
Boyd recommends using a form of "cataphatic spirituality" (you can Google it) in order to retreat to an inner sanctuary with Jesus where the words of scripture come alive with vivid sights, sounds, feelings and even aromas and flavors if possible. On page 98, Boyd describes how transformation by the renewing of the mind can take place while experiencing the truth of 1 Corinthians 6:19, that we are a temple of God because we're indwelt by His Spirit:

"...imagine in vivid detail what you look, sound, and feel like when you perfectly manifest this truth. Run it through your mind like a virtual-reality movie in which you are the main actor.  Experience yourself incarnating this truth 'with all five senses.' Ask the Holy Spirit to help you accurately and vividly play out scenarios in your mind that reflect real-life situations in which you typically feel the most empty or powerless. Only now see yourself in these situations perfectly manifesting God's truth that you are a walking, talking version of Solomon's temple, filled with all of God's glory!"

Boyd instructs Christians to take every thought and memory captive by running imagination "movies" with different verses that declare the reality of who we are in Christ. What the Bible says about believers looks starkly different than how the world sees us and how we usually view ourselves. To this, Boyd says: "Take it on faith that the you who responds to situations in ways that manifest the truth that you are a temple of God, filled with God's love, joy, and peace, is the real you. Commit to seeing yourself as God sees you, regardless of how it feels" (99).

Beyond claiming Bible truths, Boyd uses imaginative prayer to help believers heal from painful experiences, such as abuse or great loss, by instructing believers to revisit their painful memories and envision Jesus in those situations with them. Over time and repeated re-plays of the memory, Christians can undo the deceptive message and replace it with a more freeing one.

My take-away:
I love the idea of really visualizing what scripture says about who we are. Bridging the disconnect until my default conception of myself comes into line with God's view makes so much sense.

The last three chapters of the book describes three people for whom imaginative prayer was a way to heal deep wounds from the past. While this was interesting, I felt the examples had such dramatic and traumatic childhoods that I really couldn't apply the examples to my own largely happy upbringing. It's not that I don't have memories or experiences that have contributed to a deceptive mindset, but I'm not entirely convinced my petty little memories of disappointment or rejection are "big" enough to devote to this process of re-working through imaginative prayer.

Overall, this book opened me up to what seems just a fragment of the huge body of various prayer practices within Christian tradition. I'm excited to keep exploring!