I gave up on Freddy
and Fredericka. I tried. Really hard. But by the time the protagonists (I
think they were protagonists anyway) were parachuting into New Jersey in loin
clothes made of snakeskin I just couldn’t anymore. Roy gave me a nice soft cushion
to fall on, repeatedly assuring me that I truly didn’t have to finish reading
every book on my list—that there were always other books that could substitute
to finish my 50 in a year. I still feel a little like a failure. But.
Snakeskin. New Jersey. There was a motorcycle gang and sword fighting and…no.
So instead I picked up a book on loan from a friend. I asked
a lot of people back in December, “If you could recommend one book for me to
read in 2016, what would it be?” And her answer came immediately and without
reservation, “Carry On, Warrior.” She
lent me her copy and I read it in two days.
Self-help books are really not my thing. I’ll read them,
kind of enjoy them, but I never do anything about all the help. I’m mistrustful
of the help actually. I’m mistrustful of anyone offering spiritual advice who
doesn’t have a lot of degrees and I’m mistrustful of anyone offering parenting
or friendship advice who doesn’t share my worldview.
I’ve read Beth Moore books and Stacy Eldredge books and I…I
just don’t trust them. I’m not sure I can put my finger on “why”, but I always
get the sense that they are pigeonholing God into very specific, narrow
parameters. Parameters that happen to match the theses of their books. Now, I’m
sure they would counter argue that their books grew OUT of their knowledge of
who God is, but it never comes across that way. Because I don’t always trust
their theology I have a hard time trusting much of what else they say.
So I picked up this book, somewhat mistrustfully. Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing
Your Messy, Beautiful Life. Well, that’s something. I don’t trust that my
life can be both of those things at the same time. At least I don’t think the
world can see that. The world values Pinteresty homes and milestone-hitting
children and thin mamas.
And, I’ll be honest, I am mistrustful of this book too. But,
ironically, for the opposite reasons of why I normal shun the genre. Glennon
Doyle Melton writes of her faith in God, and in Jesus, but briefly, and there’s
almost no scripture, no “as I was doing my devotions this morning the Lord
spoke to me”, and no overly-modest humility. She uses way more I’s and me’s and
myself’s than I am comfortable with, and she, gasp, swears sometimes. She doesn’t think homosexuality is a sin and she
probably voted for Obama. These are ALL things that go against my upbringing,
if I’m honest. And I’m uncomfortable with a lot of what she says.
But I wonder, “Is my discomfort on her, or on me?” Melton is
a woman of action. Say what you will about her shopping sprees and profanity,
but the woman DOES. She has given away all of her money. Twice. She has made
painful moves with her family because she wanted to challenge their views of
comfort and seek the things that really matter. (Which, for her, are peace,
confidence/humility (she argues the two go hand-in-hand), family, the world.) She
has tried to adopt, unsuccessfully, time and time again, even though the
rejection tears at her very core, because she has this NEED to care for another
woman’s child who would never know love otherwise.
I know I can’t have it both ways. I can’t denounce Beth
Moore for being cliché and having misguided theology and then condemn Glennon
Doyle Melton for living, utterly abandoned, a rough-around-the-edges attempt of
how she sees the teachings of Jesus.
So I tried to reconcile myself with Melton. And here’s what
I came up with:
1.
Some of what she writes is so dead on, so SPOT
ON with how I think and act, that I know she can’t be entirely removed from
what it is to be an American housewife in the twenty-first century. Even a
conservative one.
2.
The end of Melton’s book references a story
where she meets an older woman at one of her book signings. The woman says, “Glennon,
I disagree with a lot of what you write. But I came here to say thank you, because
you’ve taught me that I can love someone I disagree with. And that has been
very freeing to me.” (p. 270) And I thought, “That’s IT!” In today’s society, in the middle of an election
season, people are so cruel to each other. And if they can’t agree, they think
their relationship is irreparably damaged and walk away. I am TIRED of that. I
am exhausted by people leaving churches because they can’t coexist over
inconsequential issues. Of families alienating certain members because they don’t
see eye to eye on politics, religion, or, dare I say, sexual preference/orientation?
When can we start loving people we disagree with? How can I do that? Because I
don’t see it modeled often.
3.
The friend who recommended this book is,
perhaps, the kindest person I know. She gives with abandon, and she never seems to get burned out doing it.
That is KEY, my friends. My friend lives the principals of this book, but I
never would have known about the book if I hadn’t asked. But I see it in her.
(This is how we want to introduce people to the Bible, no?) And I think that
she lives unselfishly because she genuinely sees the beauty in other people and
respects and wants to honor that. That is VERY different than “doing good
things for people because we’re supposed to.” And I think I would like to live
that way more. (I should mention, as well, that this friend is a follower of
Jesus, and she would be quick to say that the original teachings in scripture
fuel her loving kindness. But Carry On,
Warrior can help too.)
So much to think about, right? I hope those of you who love
Beth Moore books and can’t believe that I just used the term “sexual
preference/orientation” in my blog can still love me in spite of potentially disagreeing
with me. Let’s practice together, shall we?
Today’s 1%: My boys
played so beautifully together while I wrote this. They are sharing a remote
controlled car and chasing each other around the downstairs giggling
uproariously. When do we hit the tattling/fighting stage? Because this is sweet
and it should last forever.
