I'm hiding out in the back of my house tonight while the guys playtest the combat-strategy game my husband is developing, trying to figure out what I'm going to read, and what I am going to post. I had a plan on Friday, as far as the posting goes. The reading is vulnerable to fluctuation.

Three more books have been moved to my desk since this morning. One is Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot. A friend loaned it to me many months ago, but this morning I was suddenly interested in reading it. The book is a collection of short essays Elisabeth Elliot wrote for a newsletter she used to produce. They tend to be devotional in nature, and at first I was slightly repelled by the niceness of them. I tend to have that response to contemporary devotional literature, whether deserved or not. This morning was different because I had spent the previous week studying the miracle her first essay refers to. I'll provide more information on that later, as I resolved this morning that the best thing I could do with Elliot's book was to actively engage, consider, and respond to it in writing. Notice a recurring theme, every time I mention another book?

I also retrieved Reflections on the Psalms by C.S. Lewis, because this morning (I am writing this on Sunday night), our pastor announced his intention of teaching about the Psalms for an unspecified period of time. I was excited by the prospect because for the first time, this summer I spent some time enjoying the Psalms. It helps too that we are working on learning how to study the Bible in Sunday School. I don't remember a lot of what Lewis says. What I do remember is that he talks about the trouble we have understanding some of the more vindictive-seeming Psalms such as the one our pastor preached about this morning. I look forward to reviewing his comments. I plan to be more mindful as I do so.

Fred, that's our pastor, preached on Psalm 127, which I thought was an unusual choice to inaugurate our study of the Psalms. It was also an exciting choice for me as I have a song that goes beautifully with the Psalm. The song is called "Please Don't Make Us Sing This Song," was written and recorded by one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Lori Chaffer, and is the title track off of a collection of Psalms, created as part of a "Song From The Voice" project. The only way I could figure out to share the song with you was to embed this video that I found online. I would have preferred a purely audio track, but this was the best I could do.

I question the propriety of posting something like this considering what happened in our own town only a handful of months ago. The video shows images of the damage that followed Hurricane Katrina.



The other book I brought with me to my desk tonight was When Religion Becomes Lethal: The Explosive Mix of Politics and Religion in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam by Charles Kimball. It is the current selection of the Circles of Peace Book Club, and the second book we have read together as a group. You can read more about what this group is doing here. I'll admit to you that I've been hesitant in my participation in this group because I'm not sure that I agree with all the things that Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) stands for. You'll see on the website that Circles of Peace is affiliated with FOR. But the Book Club is about expanding our knowledge and opening a dialogue with people bearing vastly different belief systems, and that is something I can get behind. On the other hand, I hate reading books about politics (not to mention comparative religion), and that aversion has been keeping me from pursuing this book with a will. It's still up in the air whether I will read the book or not, though the pages I have read sound very interesting. I'm still shying away from the possibility of serious conflict, a fear that I simply have to get over if I am to have certain conversations that are worth having. Consider this a confession of inadequacy, Circles of Peace friends.

What shall I read tonight, I started out by asking. So many books, so little time. It's a cliche, but it is one I field almost daily. How sad it is to think so often in cliches.

I said that I would start posting on my paper for Theory of the Novel this morning. If you visited expecting that (it's possible, it could happen), I'm sorry. Try back again tomorrow. For now I'm going to enjoy the beer my brother brought me (a Pabst Blue Ribbon), and read a chapter from a book I haven't even mentioned yet.

Happy Monday!