What I love about these books, besides the fact that they are so incredibly well-written, is that the characters seem like real people. Hadassah is someone that I want to be like (as far as lowly humans are concerned). She is gentle, sweet and full of peace. Oh, how I long to have those qualities. Marcus is strong, full of passion (although it’s often misdirected) and the kind of dashing man girls would easily swoon over. Atretes is brave, intense and honest. And then there’s Rizpah, my favorite character. She is who I am, totally flawed, but still in love with God. She doesn’t know why she says the things she does and why she can’t hold her tongue or be who God has called her to be.

While I am not a huge fan of historical fiction that focuses on the Roman Empire, I do love these books. Rivers depicts the depravity of an entire society so brilliantly and I often found myself saying, “Wow! That sounds like America!” It pointed my mind to what Jesus really wants of us and what lengths He’s willing to go to in order to bring us to our knees in front of Him, offering our everything for His peace and salvation. What a wonderful gift to receive just by reading some fiction!

I found myself having several “O, wow, that’s a great point!” moments throughout the book, and while I don’t agree with everything theologically in the book, especially concerning an eternal, tortorous hell, I appreciated the intellectual integrity that was shown throughout the book. I think it’s very interesting that so many people think science and God cannot possibly go together. As a Christian this is just silly to me. Of course science and God go together. God created science. He created everything about our world. I can’t help but laugh at people who can’t possibly accept that they go together  - and I pray for them. Not in a condescending, “Wow, they need prayer!” way (although that should really be the sentiment for everyone, myself included), but because I can’t imagine living life without knowing the wonderful love of God, His forgiveness, mercy, patience and creativity. These are just some of the amazing qualities of my Lord that I cherish so much.

While I was ready for the book to be over (one of the last interviews repeated some points that had already been made and the last chapter was basically an overview of the entire book), I was glad I read it. Seeing what others believe and seeing their stubborn belief in nothing, makes me so appreciate how the Holy Spirit has worked in my life.

My Bookshelf Rating: B

I guess it’s so easy to forget that while I’m not cheating and then murdering, I still do incredibly stupid things, things totally contrary to my stand as a Christian. Francine Rivers beautifully writes about her concept of the background to this story. She creates a reality for David and Bathsheba that seems so incredibly feasible. At the end of this book I felt enlightened, not that a lot of the events actually happened (The only events we can be sure of are the ones recorded in the Bible.), but the story seems genuine, the characters like people I would know if I lived in that time.

Rivers’ writing is easy, flows well and keeps the reader wanting to finish the story, a beautiful story about forgiveness and justice, a story that looks at not only the actions of people but the consequences that last far beyond when events took place.

Who was she? She was my first love. My first kiss. She was a little match girl who could see the future in the flame of a candle. She was a runaway who taught me more about life than anyone has before or since. And when she was gone my innocence left with her (6)

To be perfectly honest, I picked this book out knowing it would be well-written and a quick read. Evans is a great writer who makes his stories flow so well. I found myself up at almost 2 a.m. not wanting to put the book down; I just had to find out what happened next.

The ending surprised me a bit, but in this sick, evil world it shouldn’t have. What wasn’t a surprise is that I cried. (I cry at everything.) The character Grace has gone through so much at the hands of her stepfather. It’s a reality many children face everyday. I can’t even imagine the horror that these children face and the scars they are left with in their adult lives. This book put a very real face to such a terrible crime. Our jobs are to care for our children, even if they aren’t our own. If this book and others like it can teach us anything, it’s that kids that face the unimaginable need to be rescued. We are the only ones who can do that. As adults we have to force ourselves to open our eyes to the needs around us and sometimes close our eyes to the traditional societal ideas of minding our own business.

My Bookshelf Rating: B

Carson grew from poverty to one of the most skilled pediatric neurosurgeons in the world. His strong-willed and faith-filled mother taught him he could be whatever he wanted and to not accept anything less than his best. She, along with teachers and his wife, Candy, saw the potential of what God could make in Ben Carson.

He also chronicles some of his amazing surgeries, telling his readers of the strong parents and sick children who came to him seeking a miracle. Often times they found it in the God-gifted hands of Dr. Carson. Other times, the circumstances were just too dire and the complications too intense to save the patients. Dr. Carson gives a heartfelt look into the life of a doctor who feels every triumph and every loss.

My Bookshelf Rating: B+

My first comment on this book is that there is no incredible writing. The transitions are either non-existent or awkward. It’s difficult to remember what the general theme of a section is sometimes, but the writing is clear and simple; Corwin is not one for adding “fluff”. One of the difficult parts of reading this, though, is that it is very dense with information.

What does come across is the amountof animals that are losing their battles everyday. In fact:

Every 20 minutes, another unique animal species becomes extinct. Every year, more than 20,000 species tragically disappear from our plant. If the rate of extinctions isn’t slowed, by the end of the century, more than half the animal species alive today will be lost forever. (26)

This statistic stopped me in my reading. Every 20 minutes!

The chapter on animal poaching made me physically sick to my stomach. Elephants have their faces cut off so poachers can harvest their tusks. Snakes, undoubtedly my least favorite creature but a living, breathing creature nonetheless, are skinned alive. Crocodiles are kept bound in containers or wheelbarrows behind stores until they are butchered for their meat. Even writing about this right now disgusts me. Fellow humans are literally tearing animals apart, for money. While we live in a world that is run by money, at what point will we get to before we say, “Stop”? At what point will we use our precious money to help protect habitats and cultivate conservation programs! Or do we let our fellow inhabitants die away until there is nothing left for our children and children’s children to see or learn about? It’s a matter of personal responsibility, today!

While I was still reading this book, I found myself upset at the trees that were torn down near my apartment to make way for a wider road. Maybe that’s what it takes: people being made aware that our actions (building, polluting, poaching, even pure apathy) have consequences. God created this world with millions of different, beautiful lifeforms and left us as the stewards of the earth. It’s our job to protect it.

My Bookshelf Rating: B+

Picoult, layer by layer, pulls apart this seemingly simple case of a young girl trying to get her boyfriend back, only to have him rape her. As with most of life’s chaos, it’s more complicated than it appears. Picoult deals with Trixie’s battle and healing after the rape, looking at how she is treated badly when the town’s golden boy and hockey star is accused of the crime. The social stigma of victims of rape, along with the change of the family dynamic after a rape and the nature of who we as people are, is very much explored.

It was not compassion that led to Daniel’s change of heart, and it was not kindness. It was realizing that, against all odds, he had something in common wtih Jason Underhill. Like Daniel, Jason had learned the hard way that we are never the people we think we are. We are the ones we pretend, with all our hearts, we can’t become. (171)

While several of Picoult’s other books have a serious plot twist at the end, I found this ending predictable. It is well-written, as always, and the storytelling definitely kept my attention, but there wasn’t the nail-biting aspect that I have come to expect when reading some of her other novels. The one thing that I found really fascinating was the comic strip Daniel pens while undergoing his daughter’s horror. It’s very telling of the personal hell he is experiencing while he watches his daughter suffer, knowing he is helpless to heal her or take back the past.

My Bookshelf Rating: B

Cooper himself is a survivor. In this book he recalls difficult memories from his past, things he is still dealing with: his father’s death when he was only ten, his older brother’s suicidal leap from Cooper’s bedroom porch, his first journalistic experience in Sarajevo, as well as several other events that he covered when he was a newer journalist.

The events and sites he describes are at times heart-breaking and difficult to read. Other times he describes small victories or the survival of those left behind to pick up the pieces of lives shattered. Death and heartache were everywhere he went, which is why he went: to report on the story, to show people the truth of what happened and to show people as they really are.

We like to think we are so advanced. We like to imagine we have protection from our own dark impulses. The truth is, it doesn’t take much for all of that to be stripped away. Desperate people sometimes do terrible things. New Orleans was no different. The lights go out, the temperatures rise, and very quickly we get in touch with emotions that the cool air keeps at bay. We are all capable of anything. I’ve seen it again and again. Great compassion, terrible carnage – the choice is up to us. (176)

Dispatches From The Edge is a brilliant book, beautifully written and full of emotion. It is a reminder that the world is bigger than we are, but people are all the same, reaching for the same things.

My Bookshelf Rating: A+

The beginning of each section starts with a retelling of the stories of pivotal women in the Bible. These are beautiful, tender and sometimes thought-provoking stories of God’s grace, forgiveness, protection and un-imaginable love. Sometimes it’s hard to picture the lives of these women as anything but a story, but Loved brings them to life and uses them as a stepping stone to relate to the lives of present-day women.

The connecting theme throughout the book is the story of the Prodigal Son from Luke, chapter 15. One woman describes her story, and so many like her, as this:

I am that girl – the one screaming and cussing, the one fighting and slandering, the drunkest girl in the club, the one sitting in jail, the one selling drugs, the one doing drugs, the one lying and cheating, the one who is deceitful, the gossiper, the hypocrite, the alcoholic, the sex addict, the one with no patience. You name it, I’ve been it. That is me. That is the girl the Lord chose to give mercy and forgiveness to, the one the Lord chose to be weak and lead the strong, the one He blessed with sobriety and a beautiful daughter, the one He guides with unconditional love. I am the prodigal daughter whom He welcomed back home with wide-open arms and clothed in the best clothes and gave food to eat and something to drink. I am that girl. (90)

While the writing is not superb, the chapters flow easily. The reader often has to stop and really think about each woman’s level of pain and how her issues affected her. The stories are meant to be daily devotional-type chapters and do not delve into the expanse of human emotion.

The challenge to the reader is to look, really look, at the people around her. While some of these women had a support group of family and friends and yet, still lost their way, others did not. A friend, a smile, a word of concern, someone to take an interest in them could have been the difference in being lost or finding their way.

My Bookshelf Rating: B

Set in a small, ghost town in Maine called Empire Falls, the town itself represents the remaining townspeople: tired, hopeless and constantly reminded of the glory days of the past. Miles is the manager of The Empire Grill, a man who left his dreams behind twenty years ago when he dropped out of college to return home to take care of his sick mother and never went back. Janine is the woman who left him to shack up with the town’s self-proclaimed fitness guru. She’s self-centered and closer to imploding than she can even fathom. Caught in the middle is their teenage daughter Tick, who is her father’s daughter in every aspect, quiet and patient, but with a keen sense of observance.

The others, Miles’ degenerate father Max, his armless-but-better-for-it brother David, his former neighbor and now corrupt cop Jimmy Minty and his bad boy son Zack, his childhood friend and now worried principal Otto Meyer, his forever crush Charlene and the strange, friendless boy John Voss, help to create a picture of a town in need of real joy.

Hovering over it all like an umbrella is Francine Whiting, the woman who is responsible for the ghostlike state of the town when she had the textile mills close. Her hand is in everything, past and present, and throughout the book Miles’ ever-trusting character is challenged to re-evaluate her intentions and therefore, his.

Sad. It is the only word to describe this book. The people are sad. The town is sad. While Russo appears to make a happy ending with the death of Francine Whiting, there are no true resolutions. The characters have changed little and the inner dilemmas are still present. This book left me unsatisfied, and while there was a climax, it didn’t solve anything; the past still haunts the characters.

While the book is incredibly sad, it does challenge the reader to open his eyes to the people around him. We are all hurting, and we are all in need of love and acceptance.

Then: “We’re friends? I can tell people we’re friends?”

“Sure. Why not?” Seeing how badly Candace wanted that made Tick wonder whether it would have made a difference if she’d told John Voss the same thing. What is all everybody needed in the world was to be sure of one friend? What if you were the one, and you refused to say those simple words? (440)

My Bookshelf Rating: C+