I thought you might be interested in a few reviews of A Good and Perfect Gift that came in over the course of the past few days:
First, from the Oregonian, a review by Amy Wang. She writes:
"A Good and Perfect Gift: Faith, Expectations, and a Little Girl Named Penny," Amy Julia Becker's new book about her first two years with her firstborn, is a beautifully written and clear-eyed memoir that describes one mother's pain as she struggles to come to terms with a parenting challenge that being well educated, privileged and devout couldn't shield her from.
Becker deftly walks the line between recounting her emotions and falling into self-pity or bathos. She is bravely honest about her inner turmoil, describing how she swings from disappointment that her daughter will never have the intellectual capacity to attend the prestigious boarding school where her husband teaches to indignation when well-meaning friends make unintentionally patronizing or hurtful remarks. And she admits that for months, she had to keep reminding herself that Penny was her daughter, not just an unexpected detour into a new reality . . .
My fellow her.meneutics blogger Rachel Stone (who blogs at Eat With Joy–a wonderful resource for people thinking about food and faith), wrote a lovely review, but I want to share with you her reflections, prompted by the book, on Jesus and disability. She writes:
Recently I've been thinking a lot about the parable of the great banquet inLuke 14:
"He said also to the man who had invited him, ‘When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you."
Jesus was happy to link arms with disabled people–people that others of his day feared as perhaps being under some kind of curse because of sin–and call them his own. He was happy to touch them and eat with them. But he doesn't say do the same because they need it. No (though they probably do). Rather, he says do this and you will be blessed.
A Good and Perfect Gift is uplifting and positive, yet remains credible, refreshingly honest, and devoid of cloying sentimentality. Although Becker's book is written from a Christian perspective for a Christian audience, the predominant message isn't about Christian faith. At its core, Becker's story is about her struggle with her worldview – a struggle to which all who are newly initiated into the world of special needs can relate.
