Maybe you’re like me and you don’t want to be bossed around in the New Year. I get it. Even as I write this I’m bracing myself for the torrent of “Three things you need to jumpstart your decade and trick everyone (and hopefully yourself!) into thinking you’re living your best life” blog posts that are just waiting for some social media manager to hit “publish” on.
Perhaps that’s too cynical.
The truth is, 2019 has left me in a rather cynical place. Not that I can look back on any specific instance to site why, but perhaps it’s just the collective state of the world that has me fighting to stay soft and open-hearted. Perhaps it’s because the world feels louder and louder every year, that has me retreating internally more than ever.
I’m bored of cynicism, and yet find it’s so deeply lodged within me I’ve stopped fighting it. At this point I think my only hope is to let it stay, recognizing that maybe it’s actually earned into place in my being, and instead to work harder at balancing it with softness.
The softness that hugs Danny in the morning and kisses his impossibly chunky cheeks. The softness that still tears up watching Subaru commercials and that believes in miracles. You know, the good old fashioned kind, like water-turning-into-wine stuff. I’m a cynic and a mystic.
In all of this I’ve found my best comfort and grounding in reading. I always do. Read, read, read, write, repeat. How I’ve lived my life for as long as I can remember. So I thought I’d share some of the books that reminded me how beautiful life and humanity can be and believing that 2020 might just be the beginning of the best decade yet.
Published in 2016, it’s not a “new” book, but one that I picked up at the time and then promptly put down after the first chapter because the characters were so repugnant to me. But this year, on the urging of my darling friend Jess Sklba, I picked it up again and remembered everything that’s magical about literary fiction. A story about the beauty and dysfunction of family, I read it in a week. If you need to start this year curled up with a cup of tea and a good read, let this be the one you start with. I don’t think you’ll regret it.
Miracles and Other Reasonable Things by Sarah Bessey
Will she ever write something I don’t recommend? It has yet to happen. I read this book in the midst of our house issues this fall while we were couching hopping in Nashville. I remember stopping in the middle to pray one of the most honest prayers I’ve prayed in years. I felt the Holy Spirit so close I cried remembering how electric and disarming it feels to really believe— even amid all the noise and disbelief.
How the Bible Actually Works by Peter Enns
If you’ve been struggling to integrate your faith with our currently world, may I humbly suggest this book? Peter Enns is hilarious, practical, and says all the stuff we’re all secretly thinking, while also being a Biblical scholar. I really enjoyed this one and it reminded me (again) that faith and reason actually work best as team.
2019 was the year I discovered Inspector Gamache and his French Canadian village full of unexpected murders. The Murderino in me is never satisfied and this series was my best friend this year— I read all 15 books. I recommend them all.
If you’re like me and your new years resolution is to entertain or host more gatherings in your home, then this is the book for you. There’s nothing I love more than a cookbook (I read them cover to cover like a novel and then read through them again to mark the ones I want to try first in descending order.) I was introduced to Alison Roman just a month or so ago and already have found this book a kitchen essential. Do yourself a favor and pick it up for your new year.
*** BONUS BOOK ***
Okay so this comes with a huge R-rating. It’s explicit and contains a trigger warning for anyone who has experience any kind of sexual abuse. However, the journalist in me HAD to read it because it’s an impressive work of reporting, taking years to finish and containing astoundingly frank conversations with REAL women about female sexuality. It was hard to read at points, if for no other reason than— as the #MeToo movement has so profoundly underlined— female sexual experiences often contain a darker side. I don’t normally read literature that contains explicit descriptions of sex, perhaps I’m a bit prudish, but it’s not really my jam. But I was glad I read this one because of I think it continues a lot of important conversations raised in the last few years by #MeToo.
Also worth noting, this book has received a ton of criticism despite being hailed by many as the must-read book of the year, because it doesn’t have a “resolution.” It’s also marketed as a book exploring female sexual desire, but contains three tragic stories of women who have no idea what they desire. Would love to hear your thoughts if you end up reading it.