2019 book roundup

Seeing as the original intent of this blog was books, here's my yearly roundup for faves and least faves for the year. This year, I was intentional in not continuing with books whose themes were too risqué or which had too much foul language. I also tried to stay away from mediocrity, so there were a LOT of books I abandoned fairly quickly. I've broken down my favorites into non-fiction and fiction while my least favorites are all jumbled together. All titles are linked to Amazon.

• Non-Fiction Favorites
1. Becoming - Michelle Obama
• I don't care where you stand politically; her story was really interesting. I also like how she's recently made remarks about her friendship with W being more about their love for people and less about politics. I listened to this on Audible, and she's the reader - which was fab. However, I had to have the speed at 1.75 because she talks very slowly.
2. Road Back to You - Ian Morgan Cron, Suzanne Stabile
• If you've had any conversations with me, you know I am OBSESSED with the enneagram. It fascinates me that there are driving forces within our relationships, and I have learned tons about myself by studying it. This book was the best of the ones I read (#enneagram1 pun intended) at explaining the different types in friendly language as well as talking about what healthy and unhealthy types look like.
3. The Rock, The Road, & The Rabbi - Kathie Lee Gifford
• We all know KLG is a bit kookoo for cocoa puffs at times, but this was a really interesting read about her journey to the Holy Land. It really made me want to go even more, and it provided a lot of scriptural insight. I learned a lot about how the story of redemption is a background theme all throughout the Bible, even more so than I was already aware.
4. What is a Girl Worth? - Rachael Denhollander
• This was a tough, tough read but oh so important. Rachael was the whistleblower on Larry Nassar, and she chronicled the way she was chastised - even within her church. It was heartbreaking, but I appreciated her bravery. I have since followed her on twitter, and she works really hard for victims, which I love.
5. Hillbilly Elegy - J.D. Vance
• J. D. grew up in rural Ohio and eventually went on to graduate from Yale Law. To be honest, I don't remember all of the specifics of this because it was one I finished early in the year, but I loved hearing it read by the author. A movie has already begun production directed by Ron Howard, so you know that will be good.
• Fiction Favorites 
1. The Escape Room - Megan Goldin
• This was all kinds of twisty, windy, thrilling nuts. It captivated me from the outset, and I finished it in about 3 days - during the school year, not the summer. Goldin developed some characters who appeared to be waifs but who were ultimately brutal. Imagine Panic Room with some Gone Girl flair. The lengths the heroine went through were mind boggling and very Amy Dunne-esque. This was by far the best thing I read this year. It will be one I add to my personal library.
2. The Wife Between Us - Greer Hendricks, Sarah Pekkanen
• I don't want to give away the plot here, but it is very much a she said / she said situation told in alternating chapters between two of a certain man's wives. The epilogue left me astounded. I am quite sure I screamed "WHAT?" in the car when Julia Whalen (yes, I know my preferred audio book readers by name) concluded it.
3. An Anonymous Girl - Greer Hendricks, Sarah Pekkanen
• Another interesting thriller from the same pair. This was also told in alternating narrators about a therapist and a young girl who signs up to be a part of a psychological story. The first part left me largely confused, but the second half was particularly enjoyable when things started to click. I would read this again.
4. The Gifted School - Bruce Holsinger
• The title is exactly that - a school for the best and the brightest of the whitest town in Colorado is set to open and the claws come out. This was a fast read, but there were a lot of characters to siphon through, and a lot of viewpoints to sort out. Thankfully the chapters were relatively short so it helped the plot move more quickly.
5. Pride & Prejudice - Jane Austen
• It took me until the ripe age of nearly 33 to read this one. I have watched the BBC miniseries (better than the Kiera Knightley movie IMO) and didn't really understand the "Darcy is a romantic" mindset. But I finally listened to the entire book, and now I understand I am Darcy. I got the entire works of Jane Austen for Christmas, and I am most excited.
• Least Favorites
1. Jo's Boys - Louisa May Alcott
• I love Little Women (except for the fact that Laurie and Jo never married), so I thought this would be great. Louisa should've just let it be. It was primarily background noise and nothing I would write home about.
2. His Favorites - Kate Walbert
• I love almost anything set against the backdrop of academia, but this did not deliver. It was weird and made me uncomfortable.
3. Young Jane Young - Gabrielle Zevin
• This was my first listen of 2019, and I just didn't get the hype. I was even sadder because I love love loved her Storied Life of AJ Fikry.
4. When the Lights Go Out - Mary Kubica
• I know, right? A Kubica on the least favorites of the year? I feel like her best work was back in '15 - '16, and she hasn't returned to her state of glory. The ending left me completely unsatisfied. 
5. Home Work - Julie Andrews
• The best part of this book was the beginning, when she detailed her work on Mary Poppins & Sound of Music. After that, it just got dull, even with the drama of her personal life. It was the longest book I read of the year, and by the end, I just wanted it all to end.

I definitely have a type or types. Psychological thrillers, memoirs of folks in the White House, true crime. Those are my jam. And I feel like that's most of what I have read for the past several years, so in 2020, I am looking forward to completing my own reading challenge. 

I plan on tackling at least 12 books from each of the following categories: banned books; books written by minority authors; books that are either young adult, children's, or dystopian; and rereads from books I've either loved to read or listen to in previous years. If a book ticks off multiple categories at once, I will count it for all categories it fits (for example, one of my first TBR is Scythe, which is YA and written by a minority author, so I will count it as both). This year I plan on focusing more on quality than quantity. I am also planning on trying a few things from the Modern Mrs. Darcy Challenge for 2020. Side bar: subscribe to What Should I Read Next? It. Is. So. Good. I plan on doing more journaling of my books this year by writing down on paper what quotes I liked, the overall feel, etc. 2019 was less than kind to me. Here's to 2020 being better than I can imagine.

two sides of the same coin

Christmas has always always always been my most favorite holiday. I couldn't care less about the gifts I receive, but I love the grandeur and the celebration of it all. I love celebrating the gift of God's son. I love the traditions that my family started when I was a kid. I remember Christmas Eve nights looking at lights in our pjs while Mariah's Merry Christmas album played in the truck. I remember singing the background vocals on "Jesus, Oh What a Wonderful Child" with particular fervor. I remember watching A Christmas Story with Dad every year before everyone else woke up. I remember reading Luke 2 as a family before we opened gifts and the smell of Dad's homemade biscuits wafting through the den.

I now have a son who rocks those same background vocals, is enamored with Christmas lights in pjs, and thinks biscuits are a boy's best friend. Christmas really puts an exclamation point on his joy, which is saying a lot if you've ever seen him (except for that Christmas program this week...whew that was a hoot and a half and a story for an entirely different blog). The magic of the season and the celebration just tend to heighten our joy and sense of fulfillment.

But Christmas also has a way of putting an exclamation point on our grief. We're coming on our third Christmas without my father-in-law, yet it still is just as raw as the first some days. I think about what he would have wanted for Christmas, but I think the real answer is time and family. I think about how he would have reacted to our "depriving" of that boy, as he often said when we didn't spoil him right away. I can still hear his booming bass voice in my ear during the candlelight service at our church - an event he made sure never to miss once we moved up here.

He isn't the only one we are missing this year. This year, our BSD will be spending his first Christmas with another family. He will experience their traditions, their love, their celebration - even if only for this first Christmas. We will never know Christmas with him, and how my heart aches for that. My grief is someone else's joy. On the flip side of that, I also think of our precious HWD's birth family, who asked for an update at Christmas this week. They miss him as well and long to share traditions that are unique to them with him. My joy is their grief and sorrow. It's so interesting to me how the same situation causes two completely different emotions, depending on the side of the coin you're viewing.

I was sharing with a friend this week that it is 100% OK not to be jolly this time of year. No one can force a particular emotion on you, and it is normal to not feel as jolly as you normally would. Loss is hard. To be frank, it sucks. There are now 2 empty seats at our Christmas celebrations, and it will never be easy to think of what the day would look like with two little boys running around our tree and creating all kinds of mayhem.

But I will be present for the son who is running around our tree creating plenty of mayhem on his own. I will see his joy, a reflection of the joy of the Lord, and I will thank the Lord that his promises are fulfilled, and that His perfect plan is enough for me. "The joy of the Lord is my strength - Nehemiah 8:10." Merry Christmas everyone.

sadness

It's funny how grief, sorrow, and longing work. There are moments in which you can easily meander through your day without really facing your feelings. And then there are days in which you wake up in a fog and can't seem to wrap your brain around what you've faced. You get absorbed in a beautiful - and sometimes sad - book containing essays about love. You forget the important paperwork you needed to take to the doctor for your adoption physical since your home study is about to expire and has to be renewed. You wonder if you are truly losing your mind or if the medication needs to be changed - again.

And you get really angry with God that you have to fast to have your blood drawn, because "if we had a baby by now, we wouldn't have to do this." And then you acquiesce and submit, knowing that He still has a plan - even if you don't know how it will play out. You see all the family pictures at Nanny's house and smile about a live well-lived and a legacy that reaches into 3 generations and 6 great-grandchildren. And you feel an immense hole in your heart as you miss the portrait of number 7 that should be hanging on the wall. And for the first time in a long time, you are able to voice your feelings to your wife - a small miracle in itself.

It turns out that just voicing how you feel actually relieves some of your sadness. It doesn't take it away, because BSD will always be a part of your family. His monogrammed bib, hat, and onesie still sit atop the highest shelf in your closet, and you don't have any plans to get rid of them. And while some days might be more difficult than others in terms of facing your sorrow, you know that just by facing the day, you are brave.

answers

I love answers. My classroom is built primarily on questions and answers. I love true-to-life stories and audiobooks that explain the answers and the details about a scenario. In high school, I (read, my parents) bought the solutions manuals for my math and physics textbooks on ebay. I was always that kid that if I saw the answer, I knew how to get there. If I saw the path illuminated for me, I knew which way to turn. Funny how even as an adult, I want that same accommodation. 

We got another info summary last week. And man, was this one perfect. Baby boy was already born, was in state (no travel!), and the withdrawal period for relinquishment had already ended, so none of those “what if”s were creeping in. She had already chosen a name that we were ok with. We both had a “feeling” that this was it. We even saw that name on a billboard while “Do It Again” played on the radio. I mean, could there BE any more signs? I thought all of the signposts were pointing us right here. And then we got another one of those beloved “she chose another family” emails this week.

I would be lying if I said it gets easier over time because it doesn’t. You just learn to adapt and deal as time progresses. Or maybe you learn how to cope. Through an act of providence, I decided not to run Monday morning before work so I could run in the sunshine when I got home. The email pinged at 3:31, right as I was getting ready to go change to run. I was able to clear my head during that time. Rebekah had texted me to ask how I was, and I responded that I was sad but not distraught and that I ultimately wanted the Lord’s will for our family.

All along I have prayed for the next child who comes into our home to be a good fit for our family and for him or her to bring glory to God. For reasons that I may never know, these two boys were evidently not the right fit for us. And I have to accept that. The Lord has never ever ever been surprised by our circumstances. He orchestrated them all. 

When we were recapping our days last night, I told Rebekah that I wish I had the answers. In the moment I wished that someone would just read me the story of my life, tell me what to do, and that I would just be a passive participant in my life. But where is the beauty there? Where is the growth? When would we draw closer to Him if we already knew the outcome? 

How much longer do we continue on this path? How long is too long to create space between siblings? Are we even supposed to be doing this still? Did we just mishear the Lord and this is his way of telling us that HWD is to be an only, despite the fact that neither of us has ever wanted to be the parent of an OC? 

I know this: the Lord is for me, He has ordered the steps of my life, and He sustains me. And right now, that is enough. I do not know how anyone goes through life without Jesus. He is the only way I somewhat make it through this life.

"like you"

If you follow me on facebook (and let's be honest, that's probably the only reason you're reading this), you have probably seen the video of my son mimicking his Queenie at breakfast last week. And when I say mimic, I mean every single hand gesture and voice inflection is en pointe. He repeats a lot, as most toddlers do. He soaks up everything like a sponge.

He also has this somewhat new thing in which he will see how I'm standing (typically with legs crossed, with one foot pointing down on top of the other, and arms crossed) and starts to stand the same way. He then proudly says, "Dada, I stand like you!" That phrase, "like you," has been a staple of his behavior since the early part of the summer. "I have a plate like you," "I have a hat like you," "I have smoothie like you!" (#priorities with that last one). 

I've been mulling that mindset over for several days, and I keep coming back to the idea of his doing ____ like me. I miss the mark more than I hit it in terms of my behavior and the example that I set for him. I yell, get self-absorbed, don't listen and love with patience. But I hope at the end of the day he sees a Dad who loves Jesus, his Mama, and him in that order; who works hard at everything he does; and who points others to Jesus. Parents, we have a high responsibility, which I know you know. But this has just become even more real for me recently. 

I pray that I have that same mindset about Christ. I want to stand like Him, talk like Him, serve like Him. Ultimately I want to be like Him and point others to Him in all that I do. I have stepped on my own toes just in putting this into words, but I pray that it impacts you so you can impact others for the kingdom. 

you do you, boo

As a teacher and dad, I think I always had visions of what my summers with my kids would look like. Enriching library activities, minimal screen time, healthy snacks, books galore, academically enriching tasks and chores. I'm sure you're all laughing at this point. You see, when you see the effects of certain trends in parenting (electronic devices from day one, junk food as the norm, the list is endless) play out in your job, you tend to don your white hat and say, "I would never do that." If you're reading this and are not a parent, let me just say, never say never. HW is only 3 and the number of my nevers that have come back on me is absurd.

I know I tend to be judgy. Without getting too deep into my enneagram obsession, it's part of my makeup as a 1 - I tend to want the world to be "right," which we all know won't happen this side of eternity. I am working on that, even if it isn't always evident. Parenting has a way of humbling you and making you realize that there are things you never thought you would do that you do. I had read so many books before we were even matched that I had all these strategies and tools in my tool belt, but sometimes we just revert back to what worked for us as kids. Sometimes I yell, sometimes (ok often) I spank, sometimes I tell him he has to just figure it out on his own because I won't always be around to fix it for him.

But every day, I have to do what keeps me sane and what keeps him mildly satisfied and alive. At the end of the day, that's what we all want as parents, right? I know that HW will never be happy 100% of the time, but he does know he is loved and that his basic needs are met. Some days you may have a nutritious, organic meal prepared for lunch after a morning of imaginative play and no screen time. And then there are some days when you throw on a movie so you can iron and dust the house and keep the sliver of sanity you still have on your last week of vacation. I'll let you guess which one is my Monday morning. Imma do me, and imma let you do you, boo. You're keeping a tiny human alive. Congratulations, it's harder than you thought. 

healing

There are times in our lives that are defining moments - graduations, weddings, deaths of loved ones, birth of our children, the list is endless. These times contain glimpses and memories that will likely stick with us forever - sights, sounds, smells from those days. I will remember standing by my high school best friend as we stood on the stage at graduation together and laughed as we waited for the last name to be called, the look on my wife's face when we saw each other for the first time on our wedding day, the sweet sound of singing "It Is Well" as my father-in-law breathed his last breath, the sound of my baby boy cooing as he was placed in my arms for the first time on his Gotcha Day. For better and for worse, these moments have defined my life.

I will also remember the long fingers and dark head of hair of another boy who was placed in my arms. He cooed and curled into my arms for hours as we got to know him, his birth mother, and her mother one Monday in May. I will also remember the phone ringing later that week and knowing in my soul by my wife's tone that this birth mother had decided to parent. I remember the sound of sobs as we sat and rocked together. I remember the determination in my wife's eyes as we moved the baby items to the shed. I remember our church family rallying around us with prayers, hugs, and support the next morning in our worship service. I will remember specific words that were spoken to me, faces from that day, songs that we sang.

I remember the dark place I went to in the weeks that followed. With my final class of grad school, a week of intense professional development, a family to care for, and various ministries at church, I felt there was no time to truly grieve. So I did what every good person with anxiety does - I faked it. I busied myself with work and with my tasks so I could avoid my feelings. Isn't a to-do list truly the best friend of someone with generalized anxiety disorder?

I threw myself into project after project. I kept telling myself I just had to face it and plow through. I went to our agency reunion. I said yes when asked to serve in the bed baby room at church because they needed someone. I threw myself into a training apprenticeship for an organization for whom I had long wanted to work. I began listening to Pride and Prejudice (the inspiration for baby B's name). I was stoic to a fault. I did, and I did, and I did. Meanwhile, I neglected my inner self. I told myself that I was taking medication and seeing my counselor, so I was fine. I had a revelation this week in which I realized that that is not enough, because I still have to work on me. I can't just expect to heal and become better if I do not put in work.

But then something changed. My wife and I took a small beach vacation alone. Just the two of us - no social media, no outside influences, just us. We listened to a good book, had very little agenda, spent hours just swimming in the waters that for so many years of my life I've said I hated, ate fresh seafood at every meal, and we just relaxed with each other. We took the time to just BE. Nothing else. In the act of being, we were able to heal and properly grieve. We had a conversation amongst the waves about how we needed this time to just relax, reconnect, and mend our broken hearts. We finally both got to a place where we are ready to move forward in our adoption journey.

This summer has been a defining moment in our family. We have grieved, we have grown, we have healed. And we are ready for what lies ahead. Not every day will be easy, but we are ready to face what lies ahead. We all have hurts, but I encourage you to find rest and heal your soul.

bittersweet

"You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment, and I will worship." One of my favorite lines from this song that we sang in church this morning. Today I probably did more weeping than actual singing, but I still will worship.

It's been a whirlwind week in our home. To summarize: get call that we were matched for adoption Saturday night, learn baby was born Sunday morning (a little more than 2 weeks early), meet birth mother Monday, begin mad baby prep all week, end the school year Friday, then get the call we selfishly never wanted Saturday night. We learned that the baby boy we were waiting for would not be coming to our home. 

This was a baby boy we had met, held in our arms, and named. A baby boy we had prayed for, told our older son about, and had received countless gifts for. And yet he would be returning to his birth mother's home and not joining our family. Literally hours before the period to withdraw the relinquishment of parental rights ended, this brave birth mother still chose to parent. 

My fleshly response was anger ("Why wait so long to choose this? Why tell me one thing to my face and then do something different?") instead of rejoicing and grace. As some of you know, this woman attempted a medically-aided abortion for this boy, BUT GOD! He sustained this life, and He obviously has big plans for this little life. Even if those plans don't happen while that boy lives in our home, it will still bring glory to God. And that is worth celebrating, because it is not about me anyway!

Through a providential situation, my mother in law was at the house when we got the call. She immediately began comforting both of us while also grieving with us. At one point she asked me what I needed her to do, and all I could do was respond, "I just need a hug," so we stood in the kitchen and cried and hugged. She then took our son to Chick-fil-A so Rebekah & I could move some baby items to the shed, grieve together, and eat. I had a good sob or ten. We were able to come to terms with what was behind us and what lies ahead of us. 

There has been a really bittersweet element to this entire week. Bitter in that what we had hoped for and believed for, and rejoiced for was not going to come to fruition when and how we expected. Bitter in that the nursery would once again be empty. Bitter in that we were oh so close to the finish line to be called for a false start, if you will. But sweet in that we have still been given such a platform to glorify God. Sweet in that we know this is a child who has life and will still be loved. Sweet in that I have truly experienced the love of our village. Every comment, text, message, and call has been much appreciated and has encouraged us. We even had a friend from church text Rebekah this morning that the Lord had woken her up in the middle of the night to pray for us - before she had read the news on social media! Just the faithfulness of this friend brought tears to my eyes. If that doesn't light your fire, then I hate to inform you that your wood is wet. 

I shared one of my favorite quotes from John Piper to my instagram this morning, and the entire context can be found here. His basic premise is that yes, we should grieve, but then we should wash our faces, and embrace what is before us. And that is indeed what I plan on doing. There may be times in the coming weeks when I will just cry, and that's ok. There may be times when I don't want to be around people for a short time, and that's ok too. But I will not let this event break me or shake my faith in God and his divine plan for our family. He is sovereign above all, and He is still on the throne. In the end, He wins. And that is all that matters. May He be praised forever.