Good Reads

I don't read a lot of nonfiction (unless you count all the textbooks we go through in the course of a school year), but the last two books I read were "Miracle at Tenwek" on the life and ministry of Dr. Ernie Steury, a missionary doctor in Kenya, and "In His Feathers," the journals and letters of Sharon Bomgaars as she walks the road of ovarian cancer.

"Tenwek" was about a life well lived; "Feathers" about a death well met. Despite the books' very different foci (yes, foci is the plural of focus, I checked), each character inspired me with their strong and sure faith, touched me with their struggles, clinched my sympathy with their wrestlings between desire and contentment, and brought me to tears with their deaths. (It's awkward to cry at the pool during swimming lessons -- I should learn to bring lighter books to read while the boys swim!)

While reading "Miracle at Tenwek," I was blown away by the impact of one man fully committed to God and doing his will. The Tenwek mission hospital's motto is "We treat, Jesus heals," and Dr. Steury made certain that each patient who came into the hospital heard the gospel message, even when the beds were overflowing and over half the patients were sleeping on the floor. It made me think I live far too comfortably.

"In His Feathers" I found particularly riveting, perhaps because I know Mrs. Bomgaar's brother, and brief parts of her story were set in areas very familiar to me, but mostly because of her heart's cry. For years, though healthy, she prayed God would allow her to live to see her children grown, so when she was diagnosed with "a tiger of a cancer" in her 40s, she wavered between longing for more life and feeling God had already given her so much time.

At one point she described her feelings in this way (if she hadn't written this over 10 years ago I might have thought she was eavesdropping during my devotional time!):

"I have less control, much less control over my life than I thought I did. That realization is a sort of acquiescence -- a wimpy acquiescence, as if I'm saying, 'Oh God, I hate to let you control things because I'm afraid you will mess them up; but since you are in the driver's seat, I'll shut my eyes and hang on and hope for the best.' That's NOT a full-blown trust. A real trust says, 'God, you are good and what you do will be the best for my children whom you love more than I do.' That is the kind of trust I need!"

"Tenwek" inspired me to live more fully devoted to God, no matter the struggles around me, and "Feathers" inspires me pray that I will be gracious and grateful in my death, no matter its circumstances.

Now on to something that I hope won't make me cry!