Stop reading! (or at least slow down)

Have you ever been reading a book that you had to just stop reading?  That book for me is Theo of Golden by Allen Levi.

But not because I don’t like it!  NO!  It is because I DO like it that I have to stop - just for a bit.  I need to breathe.

This is Mother’s Day week.  I got blessed by having my daughter plan a fund raising trip allowing her to come home for Mother’s Day.  

Laina and Davis had prepared letters for me together and belated birthday gifts.  It’s too expensive to ship things from Australia and S. Africa where they found the gifts.

Oh sheesh.  I’m making a mess of this.

Davis is our son.  He is engaged to Lizaan.  They are getting married soon.  Lizaan is South African. They live in Potchefstroom, SA and work for Fire & Fragrance SA.  

Laina is our daughter and is engaged to Ash who is Australian. They are on hold for wedding planning until the US Government grants their fiance visa.

We were all headed to Davis and Lizaan’s wedding on June 13.  We would travel together and play together the week before.  Ash and Laina would get to be together for 2 weeks as he is not allowed to come to the US until he has his visa.  We would celebrate Ash’s 30th birthday together.

The wedding venue was Stanley Island near George. Stanley Island is a turn key venue complete with zebras, kayaks, lodging, food.   And yes, I said “was.”  Last week, Stanley Island got severely flooded.  On Mother’s Day morning Davis tried courageously to make his call about me, but they had just gotten word that the venue could in no way recover in time for June 13.

My mama heart was shredded for them.  But at the same time, I had a sense that God is totally  up to something good for them, and for Ash and Laina to be able to have some time together which also got seemingly cancelled.   We cried together.  We grieved for a dream that got washed away.  Poor Lizaan felt worse for all of us and those who were coming than for herself.  She felt so badly that tickets had been bought and vacations planned around the wedding.  She is just that sweet.

In preparation, we’ve been getting my 100 year old mama doctored for a leg infection that is healing but a concern, as well as all the details for caregivers and house sitters. She’s unable to travel internationally, so this is a huge deal in terms of us being able to leave.

Creative solutions are in the air, though. But still up in the air. We're waiting for them to be grounded. I need some peace today. In my heart of hearts, I know it will be beautiful and original and a testament to God's kindness. Their story is too wrapped up in His to be otherwise.

But still. I'm a mama.

So.  I read.  I read to be able to sleep.  I read to escape stress.  I’m educated enough to say that I could not call myself well read.  I just read a lot.

And it just so happens that, right now,  I’m reading Theo of Golden.  

Somewhere in the Southern town of Golden, I’m watching the religious get invaded by the holy.  They are not always the same thing.

In Golden, as an Alabama born girl, I have been walking down gentrified streets and sitting by a historic fountain and returning daily for an artisan cup of coffee.  And from where I’ve been sitting in the corner by the window facing out to people watch those in the shop, I have come to know Theo from a close distance.  The artist and writer that lives in my skin watched him look at all those portraits on the wall last week and I cried.  Shep knows me and lets me continue to sit.  (I try to tip well.)  I am not the artist whose work is on the wall.  But after staring at them, I believe I understand him.

I will not give away the story.  I detest that practice.  But I got to chapter 22 and thought, “I can’t go on.  I need Theo to stay.  I can’t release him to the end of a book.  I need Theo in my life.”

I don’t understand how Allen Levi, a former attorney now singer song-writer/author could have witnessed all the baseness of human nature he’s likely been privy to in his first career has somehow come out as a person who carries redemption, healing and holiness in his suitcase of words.  He writes unafraid to touch sorespots and idols.  He kicks them over to show that they are hollow.

And I am not ready to finish this book.  So I’ve started another and I’m reading Mr. Levi’s story more slowly.   I’m letting Theo walk more slowly down the street.  Almost in real time.

But I can tell you this.  

I do not want for this book to end.

The only  good outcome of this book ending would be to discover that Mr. Levi has written another.

So, I’ll just comfort myself by recommending that you read this book.  Take your time with it.  There are layers.  It is not to be rushed through.

And thank you, Mr. Levi, for letting it go so that it could leave your heart and come visit ours.