Thin Places

thin placesI attended a workshop this weekend on Memoir Writing. As I was listening to the panelists talk about telling an honest personal story, I couldn’t help but think of Mary DeMuth’s memoir, Thin Places. The book officially releases today, but I was provided an advance copy for review. I meant to finish it by now, but a few chapters in, I realize this is not a book to rush through.

Much like Annie Dilliard, Mary invites the reader in to sit a while, giving the rich, poetic imagery time to settle and weave and surround. Her voice is honest, redemptive and raw. And sometimes, because of the subject, difficult to get through. I admit I put it down more than once because it was simply heartbreaking. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But each time I picked it up again, Mary’s words reminded me of the healing and redemption that come from brokenness.

In her own words: “The end result is story: mine. It’s the story of a little girl who faced sexual abuse, neglect, drug-using parents, fear, death of a parent, and a host of other malevolence.

And yet it’s a hope-filled story, where the bright light of God’s climactic redemption outshines the dark places. It’s a story of God’s nearness when I thought I’d nearly lose my mind and will to live. How grateful I am for the beautiful love of Jesus, how dearly He chose frail me to shame the wise. It’s really His story after all.”

Find out what others are saying about Thin Places.

Visit Mary’s website.

Get a copy of the book on Amazon.

from sickdom to blissdom


In less than 24 hours, my sister and I will be on a plane to Nashville. I just started packing this morning. I blame my packing procrastination on this fever that has weaved hot fingers through my kids like the black smoke on Lost (did you see that premiere last night?!) They are on the mend-ish and my brain is slowly making the switch from here to there. Now, let’s all pray I don’t fall off the stage or get toilet paper stuck to my heel.

tuesday unwrapped

sick day

When the youngest is sick, all the lists and piles of things that need attention fade into the background. There is no washing or bustling about. There is no packing for that trip I’m taking. There is no progress on that book I’m writing. There is only couch time with a too-warm boy.

And their aunt comes over to offer support, the big girls play Go Fish in the corner and The Man orders pizza and brings me the phone when the doctor calls back. As much as I would rather them always be well, there is something sweet about the sick times, the I’ll-only-have-Mommy times, the watch-ten-shows-in-a-row times. I’m working at keeping that thankful perspective. How are you keeping a thankful perspective today? Link up below and, as a courtesy, please be sure to link back here in your post.