What I Read and Watched in August

I've been too busy recently to do these recaps, but this month I watched two movies that were too good not to mention. A Hidden Life  tells the true story of Franz Jagerstatter (an Austrian who refused to pledge allegience to Hitler), and shows the terrible consequences he suffered. It is beautifully filmed (though the constant shots of windows and doorways seemed a bit quirky at times) and very harrowing. We had to spread it out - an hour a night for three nights. Not exactly a "feel-good" movie, but our hearts were strengthened after viewing it. 

No Highway in the Sky is an underrated gem that we found on YouTube with Jimmy Stewart as the proverbial "absent-minded professor." But this is no comedy. Theodore Honey is a widower. He is an aeronautical engineer who believes that a newly manufactured plane has not been tested sufficiently, and he goes to great lengths to prove that it is not safe for flying. There are many poignant moments and wonderful acting by Stewart - and also by Janette Scott (who plays his young daughter) and Glynis Johns and Marlene Dietrich (who both fall for him). The movie was extremely engaging and had a good balance of light and tense moments.

I also finished three books that I've been reading for months: The Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis (Vol. 1), Poems and Letters of Emily Dickinson, and Listening to God in Difficult Times by Kay Arthur (a three month deep dive into the book of Jeremiah.)

I continue to plow through the Mitford series and read books 8 to 10: Shepherds Abiding, Light from Heaven, and Home to Holly Springs. I thoroughly enjoyed the audiobook of Agatha Christie's The Secret of Chimneys and C.N. Williamson's vinatage novel, Set in Silver. (review coming soon)

Honorable mention goes to an excellent book I finished in July that will be reviewed here soon: A Fugue in Time by Rumer Godden. 

It was a great month! Has anyone else enjoyed these movies or books?

Blessings,

Abide in Christ by Andrew Murray

Oswald Chambers (through his classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest) has often been the "kick in the pants" I've needed to keep me from being a lazy Christian. But when I feel fragile and need encouragement from a more sympathetic counselor, Andrew Murray is the one to whom I turn. His call to the holy life is just as strong as Chamber's, but his approach is decidedly more gentle and winsome. 

Teacher and theologian Dr. John Oswalt, in his book When Morning Gilds the Skies, writes, Many Christians are trying to live God's life in their own ability and wondering why they so often fail. It is when we allow the Spirit of God to take us over, to fill us, that He enables you and me to live His life. Yes, we have to cooperate with Him. Yes, we have to do our part, but in the end, it's a life of rest, of settling down in Him and allowing Him to do what we cannot do.

That is the continuous message that you hear in Murray's 31-day devotional Abide In Christ. My heart was encouraged and strengthened and I marked many passages to re-read.

Day 28 seems to have been written just for me: The Christian often tries to forget his weakness; God wants us to remember it and feel it deeply. The Christian wants to conquer his weakness and to be freed from it; God wants us to rest and even rejoice in it. The Christian mourns over his weakness; Christ teaches us to say, 'I take pleasure in infirmities; most gladly will I rejoice in them.' The Christian thinks his weakness his greatest hindrance in service to God; God tells us that is the secret of strength and success. It is our weakness heartily accepted, and continually realized, that gives us our claim and access to His strength. (II Cor 12:9)

A lovely bedside book!

Blessings,

C.S. Lewis on the Perfect Walking Trip

I am reading The Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis (Vol. 1). It is rough going since the first half is obligatory letters to his father, which, in order to avoid all potentially controversial subjects, keep Lewis confined to discussing health and weather. But the second half has some nice nuggets. In a letter to his brother, Warnie, in April of 1927, he writes of a recent walking expedition. Apparently, he didn’t mind all the discomforts of an all-day hike as long as there were good places to stop for meals along the way. This particular trip did not start out well.

Thursday opened with discussions. A survey of the maps showed a lamentable discrepancy between the route we wanted to follow and the possible places for lunch. Then emerged the dark and hideous prospect of ‘taking’ our lunch. Perfectly simple you know. Buy some bread and cheese before we start and have lunch where we like. Makes you independent you know. Drinks? Oh, get a few oranges if you don’t feel inclined to carry a bottle of beer in your pack for the first ten miles. I need hardly say that our novice member was entirely in favor of the scheme. I, of course, who have seen days spoiled this way before, was the head of the opposition. The wrong party won. We stuffed our packs with bread, butter, cheese and oranges. The only thing I look back on with satisfaction was that the butter, at any rate, was not in my pack. 

Because of rising winds all day, the group was cold and miserable by lunchtime. The packed lunch was entirely unsatisfactory. He continues: The midday siesta, that great essential of a day’s walking, was out of the question in that abominable camp, and we set off gloomily.... [at dusk] no one can describe the delight of coming to a sudden drop and looking down into a rich wooded valley where you see the roofs of a place where you’re going to have supper and a bed: especially if the sunset lies on the ridge beyond the valley. There is so much mixed in it: the mere physical anticipations as of a horse nearing its stable, the sense of accomplishment and the old romance of travelling. It always seems to sum up the whole day that is behind you – give it a sort of climax and then stow it away with the faintly melancholy, but not unpleasant, feeling of things gone past.

In an earlier letter to Arthur Greeves he describes the delight of finding a perfect spot for sitting and "soaking" in the beauty and peace of nature. He writes, I have one great addition to my comfort here, in the discovery of a ‘soaking-machine,’ which conveniences are very scarce in England, owing to the strict customs which prevent the mildest trespassing. My new palace, is at the foot of a great oak, a few yards off a lane, and hidden therefrom by a little row of shrubs and small trees. Completely private, safe from sun, wind or rain, and on a ridge. 

Soaking up the beautiful countryside, conversing with like-minded friends, and arriving at the end of the day to a good meal, warm fire and comfortable bed. Sounds perfect!

Blessings, Hope

(Photo by Tomasz Filipek on Unsplash)

Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II by Larkin Spivey

I must confess that most of my reading about WWII (over 100 books) is about the home front or POW stories. I know very little about specific strategic battles. When I picked up Stories of Faith and Courage from WWII, I was expecting the personal narratives that I’m accustomed to (i.e., uplifting stories of people whose faith helped them to get through the trials of the war), but it was something quite different.

Each month covers a different battle or aspect of the war. January covers the European front with a brief historical overview and includes a map which shows where the major battles were fought. The daily readings, though not heavy on military details, mention the battles, and it is very helpful to have the map at hand. Though the readings are mostly personal reflections from diaries, letters and speeches, I appreciated being able to read them in the context of the much bigger picture.

Also, though many of the entries were uplifting and encouraging, many others gave details of the thousands and thousands of lives lost. Intermixed with letters displaying unusual courage were letters admitting discouragement and despair. Accounts of heroism were inspiring yet heartbreaking. It was a very sobering read.

Here is just one example from March 13:

Life aboard a merchant ship in convoy across the Atlantic was a mixture of boredom and fear. Long days and nights passed without incident. However, when something happened, it usually happened suddenly. Life jackets and precious valuables were kept close at hand. There was also the issue of where to sleep.

The civilian Merchant Marines who manned the ships grimly calculated where they slept aboard ship by the cargo they carried. If you were hauling a load of iron ore, you slept on deck for you had only a few seconds to clear the ship once a torpedo hit. If you carried general cargo, you could sleep below decks but kept your clothes on because your survival time was calculated in minutes. If, however, your ship carried a load of aviation fuel, you were free to sleep naked below decks, with the door closed since you would never have the time to escape the certain and sudden oblivion of a torpedo attack.

This is supposed to be read as a daily devotional book, but I had trouble putting it down. It would be an excellent primer for someone who wants a good overview of the history of the war. I am so glad I read it.

Blessings

Quote from Thaddeus Williams on the Heroism of Everyday Obedience

The greatest adventure we can aspire to is composed of a million seemingly small cross-shaped acts. The adventure Jesus calls us to does not include thrilling escapes from the realities of ordinary life. Christ enters our lives and baptizes the mundane with meaning. We embark on this adventure by sacrificing for others over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways. By preaching the gospel with our words and embodying it in our daily actions, we toss the ring into Mount Doom, fire the proton torpedo into the Death Star exhaust port, and destroy the Horcruxes. 

Daily life takes on eternal significance. Because we are eternal beings, we can join the real adventure that lasts forever. In Christ, ordinary work mingles with the extraordinary. In all the menial tasks, we find ourselves thrust into an epic story with eternal implications.  

(From Don't Follow Your Heart, which I liked, but didn't love. It was a bit too "cluttered" with its chapter headings, hashtags, personal testimonies, "to do" lists, and prayers. You Are Not Your Own by Alan Noble has a similar message but it is more straightforward, and was my favorite book in 2022.)

Still, DFYH had many important ideas, and wonderful quotes. 

Blessings,

Two More Molly Clavering Novels

My first Clavering novel was Dear Hugo, which I read two years ago. It got some negative reviews for not having the requisite “happily ever after” ending, but I liked it for not being too formulaic.

Sara Monteith is a young woman who lost her fiancé, Ivo, in WWII. Years later she moves to the village where he grew up to try to bring some closure. She gets to know the townspeople and writes about her experiences to Ivo's brother, Hugo.

I enjoyed the lovely writing and the vignettes of small-town life in 1950s England. Of course, any book with casual nods to the Bible, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Gunga Din, Kubla Khan, Cranford, Sir Walter Scott, the Brontës, Louisa Mae Alcott, and The Book of Common Prayer would be sure to make my literature-loving heart sing for joy.

Because of the reviews, I braced myself for the ending, but, honestly, I didn't mind how it all played out. Sara lives an unimpressive life as far as book heroines go, but I loved it that her quiet steadiness couldn't help but have an impact on her community.

Yoked with a Lamb was my fourth Clavering novel. It was much more adult than the other novels in terms of language (mild swearing) and subject (adultery), but still very chaste by modern standards. 

Lucy and Andrew are trying to put their marriage back together after his dalliance with another woman. They do not love each other, but various motives propel them to try again. Their relationship is the background for much of what happens in the novel, but the story is peopled with many other strong characters such as Kate Heron, Robin Anstruther, and Robin’s formidable Aunt Jean. The ending was not quite as tidy as I had hoped it would be. But Clavering had her own way of resolving the Lucy and Andrew's situation that was satisfying enough. I wasn’t expecting to like the book as much as I did. 

I'm glad my library has four more Clavering titles!

Blessings,

The Dazzling Darkness by Guy Bowden

I bought The Dazzling Darkness (1950, Longmans, Green and Co.) mostly because it was the perfect size for reading in bed at night. It was also hard cover, inexpensive, and about a subject that I always enjoy. The subtitle is “An Essay on the Experience of Prayer” and the main title is taken from Henry Vaughan’s poem, The Night. I couldn’t find any pertinent information on Bowden so I went into the book “blind,” which was an advantage since I couldn’t judge the content by any pre-conceived notions.

Bowden opens the book self-deprecatingly: Books about golf are usually written by experts; so are books about Prayer. This one is not. It is written by one who has made, by personal experience, most of the mistakes it is possible to make in praying, and has discovered by the method of trial and error a great deal about “How Not to Pray.” His advice is extremely practical and his excellent prose is sprinkled with quotes from a variety of writers such as St. Teresa of Avila, St. Francis de Sales, Anthony Trollope, C.S. Lewis, E.M. Forster, Shakespeare, Dante, biblical authors, and Carl Jung (more about that later).

Although Bowden does not deny the mystical aspects of prayer, he affirms again and again that it is often just plain hard work. Yet it is a "duty" that brings rich spiritual dividends. I loved his constant emphasis on prayer as willful obedience – not as a slave to a master, but as a son to a beloved father. If we wait until we “feel like” praying, it will rarely happen.

To realize His presence is a very different thing from having sentimental fancies of sugary religiosity in which we can imagine ourselves to be enveloped as it were in the eiderdown of His protective care. To seek for an emotional thrill in every prayer is sentimental nonsense. If the emotion comes, it comes; let us thank God for the refreshment, take courage and go forward. If it does not come, it does not; we have to accept the fact.

We must not think, then, that because there may be very little pleasure in prayer, we must, therefore, be failing miserably. To judge the worth or the value of prayer by the amount of pleasure it affords is to apply far too subjective a test. It directs attention to us and our feelings rather than to God and His purpose and thereby makes us the center of interest instead of Him. If we expect prayer to be always pleasant, we are saying in effect, “Every time I say my prayers I ought to be provided with appropriate feelings” – presumably by God. But the assumption that God ought to do anything wrecks the whole relationship between soul and God, because it puts God in the position of a servant who is expected to perform certain duties, whereas He is King and sitteth between the cherubim. (p. 24)

My only quibble with the book is Bowden’s occasional nod to psychology. He never lets it take precedence over true faith, but he interjects a Jungian understanding of the soul when he talks about repression and the subconscious in chapter 10. That did not, however, dampen my enthusiasm for the book. It was a great encouragement to me to be more diligent in this area of my Christian life knowing that God is greater than all my weaknesses. And that the rewards far surpass any effort involved.

Blessings,