Greetings from Louisiana. I’m home this week for my grandfather’s funeral, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Home can feel so far away until something calls you back, and then, you simply must do whatever it takes to get there.
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Greetings from the end of winter. Just yesterday, icy wind numbed my fingers and toes as I walked through Central Park with a new friend. Our teeth chattered and our coffee quickly went cold while tiny buds rounded the edges of tree branches like warts. The hope of spring is around the corner, even if sheets of ice still cover the lake. I hope you, too, are finding time to go on walks, look for budding trees, and gaze into brilliant blue skies until your eyes hurt.
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There is truly no rhyme or reason to these reviews. Whenever I finish a book, I write the first words that come to mind and post them on Goodreads. Then, at the end of the year, I compile my top ten list here with the thoughts I penned immediately after finishing. Whether it’s in one sentence or multiple paragraphs, I hope you enjoy reading a smattering of thoughts about ten exceedingly fabulous books from my 2020 bookshelf.
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This year, I have nothing to offer January but a feeble attempt at faith and a crumbling hope. I’m reluctant to expect good things because I’m haunted by the dark days we’ve endured, knowing that the darkest of all may be still to come. Many times I’ve asked myself: In this never ending darkness, where is the light?
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I would chase you down in Times Square just to put one of these books in your hand. Here are the masterpieces.
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2019 has been a year of great wrestling, great fear, and great faith. I’ve questioned almost everything I was taught to believe. I’ve approached the divine and miraculous with cynicism and doubt, self-importance and fear. I’ve assumed all of life’s answers were within the realm of my understanding, when of course, they are not. I thought I had to choose between faith and intellect, only to discover that they go hand in hand. With time and difficulty and patience from teachers greater than I, I’ve learned to seek truth urgently and with wonder, with childlikeness instead of childishness, and a foundation of faith has been revealed.
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Take us to the bodega, they said. The one where you smell the flowers.
They bought me an $8 bouquet of lilies, so cheap and so priceless, and I learned about love that day. Words that I’d heard a million times finally shimmied their way into my soul and locked themselves in—love is given and not earned.
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