To Be Still...Together~read-alouds to savor with your family this season...

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I admit that December feels magical until about December 3rd. This year that is when I hit my first "wall"~ completely overwhelmed, somewhat discouraged, and exhausted. So much I want to do, so much to do, and so craving to just be, to sit, to be still...to savor.

I read enough to know that pulling everyone together for a family reading time can be challenging. There is a certain extra exhaustion in reading aloud that is different than reading on my own. In spite of this, with my whole-heart, I recommend picking one book to read together this Christmas season.

Put cider in the crock pot, heat cocoa on the stove or brew a pot of tea. Grab lap blankets, rest in the glow of twinkling lights and snack on Christmas cookies (we like Trader Joe's seasonal varieties!) or sliced oranges and apples (my son's winter treat of choice). Be still...together, for a few moments each day.

Here are a few of my favorite Christmas reads:

This year for an "official" Advent read, my husband is reading through Ishtar's Odyssey: A Family Story for Advent. In past years we've read through Jotham's Journey, Tabitha's Travels, and Bartholomew's Passage from this series. Dear friends surprised us with Ishtar this year and it has been wonderful. Also, as a bonus, Ishtar's Odyssey is a journey through food with Persian food suggested for each day and each week. Theme food is my favorite.
 

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Wonderful picture books abound for Christmas, but these two have topped my list for many years: Mortimer's Christmas Manger by Karma Wilson and The Crippled Lamb by Max Lucado.

Mortimer is a house-mouse looking for more comfy quarters, so he continually is kicking each Nativity statue out of the stable. This is an adorable and creative telling of the Christmas story--love the illustrations too!

Some day I may be able to read The Crippled Lamb without crying. Joshua, a sweet lamb who has trouble keeping pace with the other lambs, sees how his limitations give him a very special gift during a monumental moment in history. 

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For any age, really, but great for Elementary...not just for girls!

Treasures of the Snow by Patricia St. John—Written in 1948, set in Switzerland, the author felt that her country needed a story to illustrate the power of forgiveness after the horrors of World War II. I recommend making “gingerbread bears” decorated with white icing to munch and savor while you read this soul-stirring book.

Nancy and Plum by Betty MacDonald~Two orphaned sisters, living in a less-than-wonderful boarding house are determined to not spend another Christmas in this cruel place. You'll love these two girls~we picked this book for our mother-daughter book club several years ago and my son (then 11) was quickly sucked into the story.

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Tween to teen family read-alouds:

A Redbird Christmas: A Novel by Fannie Flagg—Quirky, captivating, hilarious, and heart-warming, this book features Mr. Oswald T. Campbell who upon hearing that he has only months to live, heads from Chicago to a small town “...deep in the southernmost part of Alabama.” My son finished it in less than a day. I recommend it to everyone. And next year, I think we'll make it a family affair.

I saw my FIRST red bird this September in Manteo, North Carolina when my husband and I were celebrating our 15 year anniversary. It was magical.

A Wreath of Snow: A Victorian Christmas Novella by Liz Curtis Higgs—Liz Curtis Higgs does historical fiction so very well and this novella is no exception. A wounded, hurting family and a man desperately seeking forgiveness are thrown together on Christmas Eve, 1894 in Stirling, Scotland. Best enjoyed on a gray and snowy evening with a steaming pot of Scottish Breakfast Tea and a piece of Scottish shortbread (sneak a peak in the back of the book for a recipe).

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens~I know nearly everyone has seen the play or watched a version of the movie, but there is something about reading the original.

“And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well..."
Be Still...together...happy reading!

on the value of re-reading for the refreshment of your soul...

"No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally--and often far more worth reading at the age of fifty and beyond."  C.S. Lewis

If C.S. Lewis said it, it must be true. One hardly need convince me that good [fiction] literature feeds the soul and the best books are worth reading again and again. I never leave home without a book at my fingertips or a book recommendation on my tongue.

Over the years I have found what I call ‘soul books’--kindred spirits that I read yearly, seasonally, and simply when I need a comfort read. Not all books reach this status, but I have quite a few on my list. Books by Robin Jones Gunn, Francine Rivers, Lisa Wingate and Louisa May Alcott to name a few. What I’ve seen over many years of reading and re-reading is backed up by Louisa May Alcott: "Some books are so familiar that reading them is like being home again."

When I pick up one of these books to read again, I often times expect a sentimental road trip or a brainless read. But instead, I “always find a new book” as C.S. Lewis put it. My life experiences have changed. I am older, a different phase of life, and these books speak to me in a completely different way than when I was a teenager, a college student, young single, young married, young mom, and the life phases parade on.

For example, take Harry Potter. Not to douse Harry Potter fandom but I hated the fifth book. I felt agitated during the entire book and at the end I was simple ticked off. [Vague spoilers coming in droves]

Harry was nothing short of angsty, brooding and irritating. I wanted to shake him and say, “Get it together, man!”

A key (and favorite) character is murdered. I wanted to give J.K. Rowling a piece of my mind, “Lay off the death, and lay off Harry! I’m trying to enjoy reading this book!”

I re-read the series again about 10 years later with my son. In ten years much had changed for me. I had three kids. I had lost my dad and several other family members in tragic and unexpected circumstances. I had walked through a situation of stinging betrayal unlike I had ever experienced.

I read through the fifth book of Harry Potter and I cried...often. The characters are in terrifying and uncertain times. Many have died, friendships have been betrayed. And I understand Harry. Losing so much breeds a certain amount of anger and fear that cannot be dismissed with trite words or even personal desire. Instead of shaking him, I think “I get you, Harry. I get you.”

Even the character who dies in the end affected my heart in a different way. A bit angry, yes, but mostly a sad resignation. I get it, this extreme loss— unfair, senseless, confusing, part of life.

New to me was my connection to Molly Weasley, the spunky and endearing mom in the book series. Molly Weasley had always been so strong and fearless and determined. In this book, the characters are living in a time of great danger and extreme stress. Although, Molly Weasley is walking with courage and hope, she is not immune to the mounting effects of fear and stress. There is a scene where she is battling a boggart [harmless creatures who take the form of what you most fear]. This boggart becomes, in succession, the corpses of her husband, her children, and Harry, whom she loves as a son. She can’t fight it. Harry finds her sobbing and dispatches the creature. I was sobbing by the end of the scene. I have battled that fear. I have felt completely paralyzed. Watching her I empathize, but also evaluate how I react to my fears and how I deal with stress.

"In great literature, I become a thousand different men but still remain myself." C.S. Lewis

And what would a blog post on re-reading popular and classic pieces of literature be without mention of Jane Austen? Not much of anything to be sure. Pride and Prejudice had always topped my list, followed closely by Sense and Sensibility and Persuasion. Mansfield Park and Northanger Abbey came next and Emma sat at the bottom. Emma was my most disliked heroine. Flawed. Irritating. Arrogant. Manipulative. "I judge you, Emma. I judge you."

Life has a way of humbling your soul. In a good way. When I read Emma now, I relate to her. Her flaws breed hope in my heart. Her failings and weakness allow me to examine my own. Her triumphs and ultimate heart change bring tears to my eyes (not totally surprising, I cry a lot…). Her transformation is painful to watch or read, but the reality is that change is painful especially in our own hearts. The hope comes from seeing that transformation is possible. There is nothing encouraging in perfection. As Jane Austen states in a letter to her niece,"Pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked."  

Reading gives me the opportunity to view my life as Ebenezer Scrooge does in A Christmas Carol. A clearer lens, an outside perspective. Re-reading books gives me that same experience, but more so, because I can see how my life has changed. I can trace my change in heart and perspective. I can see where I have erred and where I have triumphed. As C.S. Lewis said, “Literature irrigates the deserts that our lives have become.”

Our lives need fresh water. Which book will you re-read first?

literature threads, fabric of life

I feel as if I were born wired to love literature and the written word. I was writing stories at age six, I wrote my first book at age eleven (it was not good, by the way). I would devour stacks of books from the library and during summers, I would lavishly read into the early morning hours. Sweet memories indeed. 

Make Way For Ducklings! Boston Public Garden

Literature has woven itself through the threads of my life. I can see a book on my shelf and be momentarily transported to the place where I read it. Non-fiction and especially fiction has met me at crossroads in my life, helped me view my world through another character's eyes, it has helped mold me into the woman I am today.

I remember summer evenings devouring the newest Christy Miller book by Robin Jones Gunn. These characters became a part of my heart. No book series has impacted my life to a greater extent than these treasures.

I read Atonement Child by Francine Rivers curled up on a beanbag in my basement bedroom of the house I lived in during college. I now read this book every year. It pushes my heart to pray, to not become numb to the world around me, to see God's sovereign hand in everything.

I read Canary Island Song by Robin Jones Gunn the second time in a French hotel in Luxembourg City. My dear friend and I had walked the city (one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen) all day in brisk and damp weather. We were chilled. We ordered tea service and curled up under blankets to read our books. I finished it on the train, the Luxembourg and Belgium countryside creating a watercolor painting through the train windows. This is another story that I love. Each time I have read it, it speaks to my heart in a different way. And it makes me want to visit the Canary Islands....

tea in Luxembourg and Rhubarb my travel polar bear...

the lovely, terraced Luxembourg City

I read Pollyanna Grows Up (sequel to Pollyanna) by Eleanor H. Porter while visiting my brother in Boston. I walked down Commonwealth Avenue to the Public Garden and could picture Pollyanna's stroll and world perfectly. The story is so very sweet and it captivated me.

Boston's Public Garden

Commonwealth Avenue..."Comm Av"

Brownstones on Commonwealth Ave.

I read Rose In Bloom by Louisa May Alcott (sequel to Eight Cousins) sitting along the North Shore of Lake Superior where my husband and I celebrated our 10th anniversary. As the waves lapped against the rocky shore, we sat and read, chatted intermittently and ate our take-out lunches. It was a beautiful day accented by a beautiful story. A pristine moment.

The North Shore of Lake Superior

I read An Old-Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott curled up in my over-stuffed chair, covered in blankets on a cold winter evening. I wasn't expecting to get pulled in, but I just had to finish it. My husband came down at one point to see if I was coming to bed. I pretended to be asleep, so he would leave me alone. Yes, I did just write that. He went back upstairs and I finished the book by about three in the morning. Guilty.

This is a sampling, I have so many more. Moments with my husband, my kids, my friends, my family, and by myself. I've heard that the sense of smell is the strongest memory, I would probably agree, but for me, literature life moments are a close second. Pristine moments, carefree moments, introspective moments, cathartic moments, they are all sacred to me.