Stumbling Toward Faith

I was ever so excited to host a stop on Renee's virtual book tour. I had a brilliant review all set to go, but once I wrote it down, I realized it was only brilliant in my head. So I'll be winging it tonight.

When it comes to church, it's felt like there was a lot of in or out, us and them. I always felt like a them, like I didn't belong. I've spent most of my life afraid of God and firmly convinced that I wasn't good enough, that there was something intrinsically and irrevocably wrong with the deepest parts of me. I'm just now figuring out that sometimes the voices in my head talk a lot of shit, but I wish I'd had this book to read years and years ago. It would have made me feel less alone and significantly less crazy.

While the details of our personal histories differ, Renee asks all the questions that I've been asking for years. She doesn't answer most of them, but then I haven't answered them either. Neither have you. If you say you think you have, I probably won't believe you. Sometimes there are no answers, just the mystery of how doubt and faith hold hands and the miracle of redemption that comes on the far side of despair and that leaves us wondering why it didn't show up before we got so damaged.

I don't have it all figured out. Neither does Renee, but Stumbling Toward Faith is a combination of brutal reality and beauty and hope that gives some of us more room to breathe. That's quite an accomplishment.

I didn't want to do an interview, because I couldn't think of what questions to ask. So I asked Renee to send me a poem instead.

i am trying to write a poem.
something deep and meaningful
something well-crafted and poignant,
but all i can do
is sit on my couch,
and cough.

i have a cold, it seems,
my body telling me to slow down,
to breathe,
to treat it well.

i am more fragile
than i think i am.

i have been plagued
with nightmares
these past few weeks,
of old houses with broken windows
crumbling foundations,
and walls that cave in.

a shrink once said,
"in our dreams, a house represents you."
if this is so,
i believe i am
in even more trouble
than i think.

If you want to keep up with Renee's virtual tour, catch her tomorrow at Desert Pastor.

Comments

[renee]

thanks, my friend. and, guess what, i'm staying home sick today. mwah!

[Christy]

Good - sleep a lot and watch mindless TV or read trashy novels. (It's okay when you're sick.)

[bobbie]

wonderful review - i too tried to write one, but found every time i did i gave away too many wonderful details of her book - and i didn't want to rob any of the readers of those delights.

you did an amazing job though christy.

renee, i love your poem, i'm sorry you're feeling like a run-down house. hope you feel better!

[tyler]

Good poem!