A letter to the Kendrinthians

I finally recycled the Christmas cards from last year. The first one in our mailbox, like a mechanical cuckoo busting out of its hatch, gave me permission.

As I dropped the pile of cards that had been hanging like its own bunting banner in our kitchen for a full year, the arms of two places reached and held me for a moment. It was liminal. Liminal meaning the way one can occupy two places at once, on the edges of both places. I was moving from the last year's place of assurance to this year's unknowns. Last year we were well-remembered and well-loved. This year, we hope it is the same or better.

It's just paper, Kendra. It's paper and humble-brag and holly. But it's more than a steady stream of smile grams and glossy postcards. It's a letter to the Kendrinthians. It's trust that the tide will rush back in this month. It's believing that the smiles by mail will say, We remembered you. Here is a new way to remember us in your mind's eye, with our rad plaids and dandy bowties.

***

I have only learned how to be a good friend in recent years. Embarrassingly recent. I've been surrounded by a big family and endless acquaintances for my entire life. I've faked extroversion and gushed over connections and given salutatorian addresses to loud applause.  All the while I've been lonely as hell. I stood behind the Dairy Queen counter and customers told me not to smile so much. I went home and wore out my Tori Amos "Little Earthquakes" cassette and soaked my pillow with salty tears. There are places worn thin in my girlhood bedroom carpet, wear I knelt in the sad Boo Radley isolation that only a melodramatic teen could ever maintain. I've been surrounded and smother-hugged and had to pull away to get some air. For years.

I hadn't learned to embrace the good within yet. How could I let myself be embraced from without?

***

It took learning that He is Goodness and He abides in me to change the tide. Once I realized that a holy portion of Goodness rocks it on my insides, what was there not to love? It's not self-love--it's a love of a Creator who occupies broken vessels and fills in the gaps with an adhesive that is stronger than any force I know, which has flooded me to overflowing. It has been liminal space. Realizing the love that was within me was also the love I have to give. Realizing always that I am at the edge of a love so great, it can overflow without doing damage. The love spills out and for maybe the last seven years, I've learned to be the kind of good-ass friend I would want. In turn, I have been blessed and highly favored by good-ass friends. I'm grateful and wealthy indeed.

***

I'm wishing a dear lady a happy birthday today. You taught me that kindness is a prettier dress than judgypants. I thank you. 

That time we flew across the country to stare at Legos

I do so love a good vacation review, complete with field notes from pros who've masterminded a trip for a family of seventeen to see Paris on $4/day. Santé! How I plan vacations: 1. Overhear my husband buying a plane ticket for his parents to Los Angeles. 2. Get psyched when he says we can buy ones, too. 3. Sweat bullets that we won't be able to make rent on account of our bicoastal lifestyle. 4. Remind self that we don't have a lifestyle. 5. Pack cute outfits for kids that are not climate-appropriate for destination. 6. Look through TripAdvisor the night before we go to LegoLand and laugh at all the cranky people on the internet.

How I prepare my kids for the vacation of their young lives:

How I vacation with my wonderful, ridiculous family for a week in SoCal:

Tidepools in San Pedro

Marine Mammal Care Center - San Pedro (adorable!)

Korean Bell of Friendship - Fort MacArthur

Santa Monica Pier mall

(skeptical Baby Girl)

Our AirBnB in Vista - amazing hosts - highly recommend if you want the rec, let me know

Our mecca: LegoLand

Thanks, California

When DJ Tanner sends you a book in the mail

As part of the B&H Bloggers program, I received a free copy Candace Cameron Bure's latest book. I spent no less than three days laughing every time I saw it on the coffee table, which is where I thought it might have to remain. I could not in good faith review a book that was the farthest thing for me to reach for, even within the genre of spiritual memoir which is my fave. It just wouldn't be fair. A good book reviewer will be able to separate the person from the author's voice; to reserve critique for the author's character from the author's content.

I have very little against Candace Cameron Bure. I have listened to her talk at Liberty University. I appreciate the principles upon which she is unwavering as she makes decisions for her career and family. I just don't think she is exceptionally talented as an actress or inspirational speaker. I didn't have high hopes for her writing, though I give her credit for letting her co-author Erin Davis have a proper byline. (Ghostwriters get such a bum deal.) Most importantly, though, I was completely prejudiced against the premise of this book. I don't watch "Dancing with the Stars" which the writer uses as the framework for the events of this memoir, drawing spiritual insights from her time preparing for and performing on this reality TV show. The fact that Bure got a book deal out of a quasi-celebrity TV appearance seemed like--well, I think Uncle Joey's reaction is apt: Cut. It. Out.

Curiosity got the better of me, though. And you know what? This book is actually pretty substantive. The tone is sincere throughout. Bure clearly cares about the way she comports herself on and off camera. She took her role on the show very seriously and examined every decision through the prism of how she would be representing herself as a godly woman. There are moments that are really inspiring, like how she shares her and her husband Val's discussion about performing the seductive rumba and the implications for her as a daughter of Christ. The discussion on modesty was comprehensive and not pious. It was accessible, drawing from Proverbs, Psalms, and many parts of the New Testament. I think on these merits alone, the book is worth buying for a young person who is navigating the murky waters on modesty.

Still, the writing is pretty painful at times. In certain moments, it's as if DJ Tanner is writing the copy. There are sentences like, "Betcha didn't know that dancing could be such serious business!" Ay. Where is Kimmy Gibbler because we need some comic relief. Moreover, the premise is overall still vomitous. There is a lot of attention paid to social media reactions and the book is written with the assumption that the reader cared deeply about the show and about Bure's competitive edge. If you have a rabid DWTS fan in your house, this book might be for him or her. However, the spiritual insights within the framework of one season of one show was just not enough for a solid story skeleton. A book like Devon Franklin's "Produced by Faith" does a much better job using show business as a metaphor wherein the spiritual life is examined.

Bure's book can probably be read in about a week and is available in paperback.

Disclosure of Material Connection: Some of the links in the post above (typically those to books) may be “affiliate links.” This means if you click on the link and purchase the item, I will receive an affiliate commission. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”