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Yesterday, I was in the car with my two little boys, driving home from our Back-2-Homeschool party at the park, when the sky fell. A few hours earlier, we'd been surrounded by kids in bathing suits sprinting through the community splash pad, inhaling the scent of damp grass and spray-on sunscreen. A heavy gray cloud that we'd seen approaching all morning had finally made its way overhead, and it unloaded itself mercilessly on our mountaintop town. Thankfully, by that time, our party had wrapped up, but I was still on the road home, laden with a pop tent, folding table, camp chairs, towels, and snacks. The rain wasn't bad at first, but then it got to the point where I couldn't see well. The socked-out sky above was doling out a free lightning show. Great pools of water formed in the road until the right-hand lane of our two-lane boulevard was pretty much flooded. Finally, even though I was less than two minutes from home, I decided to splash thunderously through the right lane and pull into someone's front yard where I came to a full stop under a tree. That's when the hail started. Marble-sized ice balls slapped angrily against the windshield and drummed deafeningly on the roof, despite the tree taking the brunt. The hail began to pile on the ground, forming white mounds that made it look like Christmas rather than the dog days of summer. I increased the volume on the stereo and opened a bag of popcorn for my boys to munch on, while my nerves shrank back to normal size. I sat behind the wheel in awe of the sound and the fury. Sometimes, God stops us in our tracks and reminds us of what he's capable of. Our tiny trio waited in the shelter of that tree, and when the worst had passed, I drove home safely, meekly. Later, my 7-year-old son, who loves to be funny, sang, "Ohhh, our hails and our heavens, so few inches apart..." We'd been listening to a lot of Rich Mullins lately. The real lyric goes like this: And with these our hells and our heavens So few inches apart We must be awfully small And not as strong as we think we are Oh, how true. But, oh, how thankful I am for shelter. Life is full of storms, but also shelters. Reading books is one, but it can only take us so far. It's a deep well, but it will run dry eventually. In a scornful and unfeeling world, we all need to take refuge in unconditional love, and we know the source. But a great piece of writing can certainly be a balm on a bruising day. Here is a list of some of the best stuff I've read recently online. I hope you find something you like! Essays on Reading, Writing, and Life Real Food by Jessamyn Rains. Are we starving ourselves on a nutrient-stripped Wonderbread gospel? Exhaustion After Exertion by S.D.G. Morgan. Why we need rest after a creative push. At the speed of 'Murder, She Wrote' by Théa Rosenburg. The charm of analog stories. The Actual Point of Literature Most Readers Forget by Clifford Stumme. Do we use stories or receive them? Short stories and flash fiction Chewing on Scripture by E. C. Traganas. A colorful character on a bus. Grand Stretchers of the Truth by Karen Wells. An abandoned car becomes big news. Carla and the Prez by Loren Warnemuende. Nothing is as it seems. Meet John Sommer, Writer and StorytellerI'm so excited to introduce John Sommer to you this week on Library Binding. He didn’t grow up in your average, everyday kinda house, and he spent a lot of time living across the Atlantic. Which classic book rekindled his reading life? What wizardly name will his future grandkids call him? 📚📚📚 As always, I'll leave you with one irresistible indulgence—why is everything more adorable when tiny? Your devoted, Michelle P.S. Know someone who'd love this newsletter? Here's where they can sign up. |