Trade 'Ya: Links for Art

I know I can get those little book icons from Amazon, to use when reviewing a book on my blog. Sometimes I have. But more often I like to take my own pictures. Personalize things a little. After all, if I'm telling you about a book I'm reading, I feel like I want to add some aspect of my surroundings. Like I said, personalize things a little.

Sometimes other people do this too. I still remember Ann Voskamp's lovely worn, wooden table humbly holding tea for two and a copy of Stone Crossings.

And I have clicked The Jesus Creed on my floor with a cornhusk Mary, Two Men Fighting with a Knife on my piano, and Celtic Devotions on my side porch, looking out towards my secret place.

The other day I was delighted to discover a colorful picture of Stone Crossings at Nancy's (see above). When I asked her if I could borrow the picture, she graciously commented...

l.l., i took this photo when i was sitting on my porch. i had been reading your book and put it down and placed the stone on it to keep the wind from blowing the pages. when i saw it sitting there i just had to get a photo of all the stones that were in one place. my 11 year old daughter and i like rocks and stones and have them sitting in different places in the house and now these have made their way out onto the porch this summer...

I was touched by Nancy's sweet words and her artistic photograph. Then a small idea began to grow in my mind. Links for art. Or in other words, I would love to link to you if you share a personalized photo of Stone Crossings with me. A little story to go with it, like in Nancy's comment, would be nice if you're comfortable sharing.

Just a thought. Trade 'ya: links for art.


Stones and Stone Crossings photo, by Nancy. (Photo and permanent link provided at bottom of blog sidebar.)

OTHER 'LINKS FOR ART' POSTS:

Ann Voskamp's photo in Of Grace and the Barn

Shadows of Conversion

Antony Flew took 81 years to make up his mind. Or to change it. I'm not sure which. And now he's written a book about how he morphed from the "world's most notorious atheist" to being a God believer. What kind of God does he believe in? I suppose his book talks about that. At the very least, the God he believes in is both subtle and powerful enough to assure life with the perfection of the simple electron. (It is the electron, I hear, that tipped the scales for Flew.)

In my experience, conversion hinges on the most unpredictable of matters. An electron. A song. The weight of biblical prophecy. Maybe even a good night's sleep, or a bad one. In other words, "the moment" can seem to hinge on a small catalyst. But to change one's mind is a big thing, probably involving an almost untraceable series of events and impressions.

I like the way Scot McKnight describes this process, saying, "...conversion is more like the evening soft-shoe dance of the summer shadows across the lawn. It's hard to see, but the shadow is moving, and at some point we see that it has, in fact, covered the lawn....[It] is a series of gentle nods of the soul..." (p.96, The Jesus Creed)

Maybe it is a little like falling in love. Or better yet, maybe it is like figuring out what to do with love once we have fallen. I wish I could be more definitive about this, but I admit that it remains largely a great mystery to me. So that I feel I can only touch the shadows of conversion.


Shadow in the Garden photo, by L.L. Barkat.

Seedlings Invitation: If you write a post related to this post and Link It Back Here, let me know and I'll link to yours.

Unauthorized Advice from Scot McKnight

What follows is unauthorized advice from Scot McKnight... Lifted without guilt from his book The Jesus Creed. (A new personal favorite of mine, by the way, so prepare to receive posts.)

I heisted the advice from chapter 9, which I like to call the "chutzpah chapter" (because McKnight says that the Gospels "clearly show that [Mary] had a significant impact on [Jesus'] teachings," (p.88) ).

Anyway, here it is. McKnight has a whole chapter on Mary. And do you know what he did? Rather than leave her there in the chapter, he moved forward to write a whole book about her. Called The Real Mary. Which officially makes him the mega-chutzpah man (because Mary is not exactly a non-controversial figure in Christendom).

This also officially gives us some very sage advice: we writers needn't necessarily find radically new topics to pursue as we go along. We can just dig deeper into subjects we've already tackled. And maybe pray for a little chutzpah.


Virgin Birth photo, by L.L. Barkat. Corn Husk woman in photo, by Sara.

Seedlings Invitation: If you write a post related to this post and Link It Back Here, let me know and I'll link to yours.