Category Archives: government

favorite books of 2022

Posted on by January 18, 2023

I was buying books and Vin asked me to look one up that he’s wanted for a while.

“They have it in paperback or hardback, which do you want?” I asked.

“Paperback,” he said. “It might suck.”

And that’s wisdom, my friends.

favorite books of 2022: Shannon Guerra

This was a tough year reading-wise for me. Not because I didn’t read much – I read almost fifty books – but because I quit at least five other books in disgust after anywhere from fifty to several hundred pages (I mention one of them here). Fortunately, it was also a year full of books that are tried and true, old favorites that I happened to be reading again, and they made up for it.

Reading good books is like gentle, gradual irrigation of the mind. Reading the Bible is more like a power washer, or a rushing river. But all good books dislodge rocks and embedded lies from us, and reveal truths that never change but somehow can always come alive in a fresh way. Good reading is both cleansing and nurturing; it grows within us the stuff that preserves from rottenness and brings flavor. It changes our landscape, deep and wide. We recognize things about ourselves and the world around us, and we see things articulated that we didn’t have words for before.

Good books rile up justice and goodness, and bad books make excuses for it.

Here are my favorites from last year that (mostly) do all the right stuff. I hope you find a few that become your favorites, too.

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

“There seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were made over comfortable, perhaps — otherwise we might have had longer warning of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different.”

Here is a case for rereading a classic that you didn’t care so much for the first time. (See also The Wind in the Willows.) I’ve read this twice before and it was okay, nothing that excited me too much. And then I read it again last spring with my daughter and our Gaining Ground group, and lo and behold…things came alive that I missed the first (and second) times around. I’m convinced now, it’s a keeper – and it makes the extremely Hobbity and slightly silly first chapter of Fellowship of the Rings (see below) make a lot more sense now. It is a fairy-tale-like children’s book full of trolls, spiders, thieving, sneaking, jealousy, fighting, shapeshifting, invisibility, riddles, and battles…but yeah, it really is a good book with solid values worth sharing with your kids. Or your spouse. Or your cat.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

Hey, this one counts as seven – or actually six, because we just started the last book in the series again a few nights ago, but we read the other six out loud at dinner time to the kids throughout 2022.

If you have never read these, or you haven’t read them in years, or you only read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, or you only saw the movies (egad), you should find the nearest 4- to 18-year-old and start reading this with them, post-haste. You don’t need to read them in order (chronologically or in the order they were written, and yes, those are different) but I’m still noticing details in certain stories that allude to characters or events in the other ones that I never noticed before. Every single book in the Narnia series has truths in it that are articulated brilliantly and beautifully, and they will change your life and our culture for the better.

How an Economy Grows and Why it Crashes by Peter Schiff

Make economics fun again! If you need an easy refresher on basic economics or a great book for your middle/high schooler, this book illustrates the principles through a fictional land of islanders who begin their own economy through trading fish and services, on just one fish a day. It explains principles without jargon and shows how they are both used and abused. And if you know your U.S. history, you’ll enjoy a lot of the snarky humor that identifies some of those abusers, as well.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them: as close to it as I am to you, and I am standing in the spirit at you elbow.”

My first encounter with this book was in the 8th grade when our English teacher read it aloud to us the week before Christmas break. I remember very little (as in, nothing) of it, which, combined with what I already told you about The Hobbit and Wind in the Willows, is an indictment on either the Anchorage public school system or my attention span. Probably both.

But now! Ohmygosh, I love this book so much. This is the second time we’ve read it aloud as a family, and even our little guys – ages 4 and 7 – liked it. (Giving characters different voices helps.) You don’t have to read this at Christmas; it is beautiful year round, and if you want an easy way to dip your toes into Dickens’ works, this is the one to start with. (Oliver Twist is probably a good second.)

Polyface Micro by Joel Salatin

This is a good book to read if a) your life has been taken over by poultry, b) you are aware of the crisis in our food system and know the egg shortage we’re seeing is only the tip of the iceberg, or c) you want to take your dreams of homesteading and start doing something about them. This is livestock farming micro-style, for those of us with yards instead of fields. Lots of ideas here on how to do the basics, plus plenty of insight and hacks that only come from someone with years and years of experience who is willing to tell you about his mistakes so you don’t have to repeat them.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

This one threw me for a loop at first. There’s a lot of dialogue but no quotation marks, an intentional lack of apostrophes in many contractions, and you quickly discover that rules can be broken if you write and tell a story as well as this guy. Every once in a while I came across a word I suspected he was making up, but then I’d check, and by golly, he pulls vocabulary up from the very bones of the earth and puts those words to work again.

It’s not a kids’ book but I’d recommend it to mature high schoolers. The story is intense and fascinating, about a father and son traveling through a post-apocalyptic wasteland just trying to survive. I read it in two days and then immediately put it on Vince’s stack and demanded he read it, too – which he did, and he also loved it.

The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker

File this one under “Information everyone needs to know and hopes they never have to apply” – which I guess you could also say for any book on farming. (Ha ha, I jest…sorta). Not a great book, but an important book about crime, human nature, and protecting yourself from whackos. Eat the meat, spit out the bones; it’s a three-star book with lots of five-star info.

Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard

If you are grieving or walking through a hard season, this book is a great companion. Much Afraid is a girl who has been threatened, gaslighted, and mistreated, and the Shepherd leads her on a journey that isn’t just escape, but destiny – she learns her true identity through a process of obedience, faith, and surrender. We read this in Gaining Ground last summer, and so many of us found great healing, encouragement, and revelation for different situations we were navigating.

Parnassus on Wheels by Christopher Morley

A woman buys a book wagon and takes off across the countryside in the early 1900s, leaving her slightly selfish brother in the lurch and baffled at her gumption. A funny and fast book about books, and reading, and love, and surprises.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

“By reading only six hours a day, I shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction which I now feel myself to want.”

Why use a boring word like “year” when you can say twelvemonth? This story is about two sisters: Elinor is all things tact, courtesy, and self-control, and Marianne is all things honest, transparent, and idealistic. By the end of the book they are both stronger, wiser, and happier, and the reader is, too.

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

“It seemed that the evil power in Mirkwood had been driven out…only to reappear in greater strength in the old strongholds….the power was spreading far and wide, and away far east and south there were wars and growing fear….Little of all this, of course, reached the ears of ordinary hobbits. But even the deafest and most stay-at-home began to hear queer tales; and those whose business took them to the borders saw strange things.”

There’s a great evil in the world that has been hidden for ages, lurking unknown, unsuspected by those who are happily oblivious until some strange, seemingly unrelated occurrences start happening with increasing frequency. Once discovered, the evil must be completely destroyed before everything good in the world is destroyed first.

Sounds eerily familiar, yes? But no, it’s not the Deep State; it’s Sauron, the Lord of the Rings. I’ve read this at least five times but am finding parallels and wisdom for our current days that I’ve never seen before. Fellowship is the first part of The Lord of the Rings, which is really just one ginormous book of over a thousand pages, often separated into a trilogy. We’re currently tackling it in Gaining Ground and just started The Two Towers, the middle book. If you have tried Fellowship before and couldn’t get past the odd, folksy first chapter, please give it another shot. By chapter two it changes rapidly from a children’s book like The Hobbit into the life-changing and dramatic saga of good versus evil so many of us love.

Wait, you keep talking about Gaining Ground. What is that?

It’s our online book club on Telegram. It originally started a few years ago as a book club that incorporated writing coaching, but I’ve stopped coaching and now we just read and chat about books and share nerdy, bookish memes. Our group ebbs and flows every time we start a new book, but it’s grown to over a hundred people and you can join us here if you’d like.

My goal this year is more books, less videos; more pages, less screen time. More time together, more shared stories, more ideas, more joy, more justice. Less fabricated news, more newsworthy knowledge. More wholeness, goodness, and truth, with a side of coffee or tea. Probably a cat or two. Maybe a blanket. Plus a 30% chance of a huge bowl of popcorn, which I may or may not share.

P.S. Want more book recommendations? Here’s my list from last year. Reading great books is one of the easiest ways to transform our culture.

how we keep the house

Posted on by September 26, 2022

A dream woke me up at 5 am.

I had fallen asleep praying for a loved one who seems to be drifting in the last few years, and the next thing I knew, my heart was loud while the room was dark and quiet, and the Lord was telling me, Remember, and share this.

how we keep the house: a dream and a warning for the Church

So here goes.

I dreamt of a being in a house I’ve never been to. Most of the kids were with me and there were hills around; my husband and other men were outside, scouting and guarding the area.

We knew we were about to be attacked, that enemies were attempting to invade us. My job was to go along the inside of the house and lock all the doors and windows.

A young man was with me, like my son but not my son. But in my dream I knew he was my right hand man, the one I was relying on the most, as though the men had assigned him to stay with me and the kids for protection and help.

I went down the long, skinny hallway, shutting windows and locking doors until I got to a door that was stuck and wouldn’t latch. I called the young man over to help me and he shut it, and then he went down the hall ahead of me to take care of the rest. But as I followed him with one of my little boys, I noticed the next window was left partly open, and one of the doors wasn’t closed all the way. The young man was increasingly unreliable as he went down the hall toward the end of the house.

The hallway ended with two glass doors that made up the wall of that side of the house. The doors were supposed to meet in the middle and latch, but the glass was cracked and had been cheaply fixed with clear packing tape.

And the doors were still open. The young man was standing in the doorway with my seven-year-old son, and I could see the horde of raiders with weapons coming, running through the woods right toward us.

They had flanked, and were going to attack the back of the house first.

A small shelf of handmade weapons was nearby. Some were worthless cardboard, like children’s toys, but others were knives and hatchets, and I grabbed one of those. But the doors were still open, and my seven year old was standing with the young man, watching them come. They weren’t shutting the doors; they were transfixed on watching the coming onslaught. I kept telling them “Shut the doors! Shut the doors!” and they just stood there.

I grabbed my son and threw him behind me, but the young man was larger than me and in the way; I could not close the doors without him moving.

The first raider reached us with the others right behind him, and he stretched his arm up through the doorway, getting ready to climb in.

And I woke up, but my thoughts finished the dream for me: I knew I would have to kill the invader as he tried coming into the house.

Yeah. Wow, I know, that’s not the normal stuff I share here. As I laid there trying to figure it out, the Lord reminded me that I fell asleep praying for that loved one who has been turning lukewarm, losing vision, tired of the fight. And then I had this dream about the young man, meant to be relied upon to stand and fight and defend. And at first he was reliable, but the further he went into the mission, the less effective he became until he was basically deadened and stupefied, putting the rest of us in danger.

And this is a picture of some in the Church right now who have called themselves Christians for decades.

In the beginning of the reign of Jehoiakim the son of Josiah, king of Judah, this word came from the Lord: “Thus says the Lord: Stand in the court of the Lord‘s house, and speak to all the cities of Judah that come to worship in the house of the Lord all the words that I command you to speak to them; do not hold back a word. It may be they will listen, and every one turn from his evil way, that I may relent of the disaster that I intend to do to them because of their evil deeds. You shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord: If you will not listen to me, to walk in my law that I have set before you, and to listen to the words of my servants the prophets whom I send to you urgently, though you have not listened, then I will make this house like Shiloh, and I will make this city a curse for all the nations of the earth.’”

– Jeremiah 26:1-6

It’s easy to write this off as a passage for non-believers, but it’s not. It’s for those who went to the court of the Lord’s house, to all the cities that come to worship in the house of the Lord. It’s for us, the Church.

We have neglected to keep the house, and we need to repent and restore it.

At every pivotal moment in history there have been those who stood by, not wanting to take a stand as evil overtook the institutions and culture of the land. Their discernment and action were dulled and useless because they chose comfort over obedience. They feared man more than they feared God. They worshipped themselves instead of the Creator.

Christians, friends, Church: We have been living in one of those pivotal moments for years now, and the boat needs to rock.

Too many are placidly standing my, flirting with popularity, worshiping ease, drifting lazy fingers in the current as it carries us toward destruction. If you are not speaking out, standing up, learning about what is going on, interceding for those on the front lines of this, and taking action when the Lord calls you to, you are not rocking the boat – you are sinking the ship.

The windows and doors have not just been left open; many in the house have groveled and bootlicked their way to being complete sycophants of the enemy.

Many pastors want a seat at the table Jesus would be flipping over.

– Joe Oltmann

We are meant to guard and defend, but it’s easy to fall into sleepwalking through our days, mesmerized by the enemy and doing nothing to prevent His attacks.

So how do we protect our flank?

Are we praying? Are we armed? Are we alert to what’s going on, and preventing the enemy’s access to our family? Or are we just too tired, too numb, too overwhelmed, too careless of those around us?

Because it’s not just about us. There are kids in the house, watching us, learning how to respond to the world out there. Our apathy puts them in danger.

It is exhausting. We are tired. Life is full and frenzied right now, and you’re right, we can’t possibly do everything or be everywhere at once. But this is not the time to make excuses and get sloppy, to move our eyes from what the Lord is calling us to see.

Even though the wise virgins were also weary, they made it an absolute priority to store up oil. Because a lamp without oil burns out quickly.

– Craig Cooney, The Blueprint

I confess I have not prayed as fervently as I should be doing. So I’ve been coming back to the Lord at new times, with new requests, letting Him interrupt me again and in new ways. I do not want to become less effective the farther I go in my journey, or to endanger those I love and am commissioned to protect. I want to be more dangerous to the enemy, and more partnered with the Lord in what He is doing.

I want to better steward the days and assignments He gives us. That requires being aware of what is going on around me, and being willing to do uncomfortable things when He calls me to.

And He calls us to many things: To intercede. To serve. To act. To be alert, because the enemy is like a prowling lion.

If we are actively persisting in the Lord’s presence, He will help us notice what we need to. But if our eyes are elsewhere, we’ll be blindsided and stupefied, a liability to those we love around us.

In the dream, the enemy found the side that had been infiltrated by a sleeping guard, and that’s the side it attacked.

We need to be awake and watchful. Praying and discerning. Standing and defending. Speaking and resisting. Equipped and equipping. Learning and teaching. Repenting and restoring.

Many Christians are vying for a seat at the table Jesus would be flipping over.

We surrender only to the Lord, and we will not step aside for the enemy. This is the ground we’ve been given to protect and defend, and we plan to keep it.

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

Posted on by May 26, 2022

The first few weeks were fine: Cute little birds in their cute little boxes in our slightly overcrowded bathroom. Little peeping noises from the chicks, beautiful cooing noises from the quail. We could watch them for hours.

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

But then the chick dust started.

And, oh my friends, do you know what chick dust is? It’s a combination of things, but mostly it’s dander from the feathers that are growing in from about two to six weeks of age. If you have a history of asthma, pneumonia, bronchitis, or other respiratory issues, it’s no bueno to be around.

The feathers are important, of course. They’re what help them endure the elements, and they’re what make them beautiful. But the dirty, ugly-cute season has to be endured in the process of growing them.

I started to notice the burning in my throat and chest, reminiscent of pneumonia. It felt like I was suffocating. So I started taking supplements for lung support and we cleaned the brooder multiple times a day.

But the dust took its toll. So I was banned from the bathroom, and as soon as it was warm enough outside, the chicks were banned from the house.

(No, it has nothing to do with bird flu. If you believe what the news is telling you about bird flu, I have some oceanfront property in northern Wasilla I’d love to sell you.)

Now the birds are seven and eight weeks old: Their feathers are in, the dust has settled, and they’ve upgraded to the coop and the yard, all beautifully fluffy as they peck at dandelions and bugs. The quail have even been laying eggs for almost two weeks now, and it feels like we made it.

It was a long, crazy month, though. Learning how to care for birds while having several other irons in the fire was a level of overwhelm I haven’t felt since…well, maybe since having a newborn. In this case, we had 38 chickie newborns, a kid graduating, several work and writing projects, grades and progress reports to turn in for six kids, garden seedlings everywhere, and the normal societal unrest that has become so common in the last few years that it’s stopped surprising us.

It’s not special; you have all your own stuff you’re dealing with, too. We’re all just living normal life, but doing it in an era that is kicking up dust everywhere.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” 

– John 13: 6-8

We don’t understand why all these things are going on around us, but Jesus is getting our feet wet.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had conversations with friends in recent weeks about how the events of the past few years have taken their toll, and we are feeling the effects of it. We are overwhelmed. Feeling scattered. Fighting burnout. Wrestling anxiety again that we conquered years ago. Dealing with a few health issues from all the stress.

Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. 

– John 13:9-10

Don’t make it weird, Peter. I’m not drowning you, I’m equipping you.

One friend mentioned how prayer feels like more of a struggle lately. The words don’t come as easily, and since they don’t, she has to force words, which feels less genuine. But she’s learning the discipline of mature, fighting prayer. The truth is, my friend is doing great with her prayer life. She’s growing and persisting in it in new ways.

If you feel like you’re not doing well in your prayer life because it’s not as easy as it was, you’ve probably actually moved to the next level and are feeling the stretching of growth.

Our success can’t be gauged by how comfortable we are with something; usually our success is indicated by our willingness to continue doing the right thing even when it’s hard and uncomfortable.

We’re not going under; we’re graduating. We feel the dust burning in our lungs because it’s time for an upgrade, and we need to take new territory.

We watched the fruition of it this week when our daughter graduated. She’s our second grad but the first to walk, the one who was born after a horrible miscarriage and brought redemption even before she breathed outside the womb. She’s beautiful and gifted and brilliant, and just so you know, she’s getting a shotgun as soon as she turns eighteen. (If you believe what the news is telling you about gun violence, I also have some lakefront property in our chicken coop you really ought to see.)

The grades are in, the paperwork is done. But she isn’t finished; she’s just equipped for the next level.

And I have been feeling this upgrade, too. Last week when I was at the desk, trying to settle into a few hours of work, I felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to figure out what to tackle first. I was stunned by the amount of needs and directions I had to go in.

It was too much; I turned the page and started making a list of irons in the fire, and got almost halfway down the page before I stopped and put the pencil down.

Lord, what do I do with all this? I asked. Where do I start?

The Holy Spirit started asking questions back:

Are any of these temporary?

Yes. There’s a temporary partnership, a smallish project to finish, a bigger task to be done, and Iree’s graduation. Those won’t be on the list forever.

Are any of these negotiable, or not necessary?

Um…no, not really.

Are they all bringing life and bearing fruit, even if you can’t see the fruit yet?

I think so. There’s one I might be able to eliminate but it’s too soon to tell.

Start at the top. Do the thing closest to you and work your way down.

So I made the phone calls, returned the texts, wrote the articles. Filled out the paperwork. Graduated the girl.

The list has started to shrink; it doesn’t quite hit the middle of the page anymore. And I know it will always flux and change – things will be added to it as others are crossed off.

But you and I, we are growing, and upgrading, and effectively engaging a culture that is reaping the consequences of simply going with the flow, refusing to do the hard but necessary things. We’re persisting in doing the right thing even when it’s not comfortable.

We’re not finished; we’re just getting ready for the next level.

I’m not suffocating you, Love, He tells us. I’m equipping you. No feathers, no flight.