Category Archives: books

Mountain Retreat

I’m off to the mountains again this week. Two years ago I made my first solitary retreat in this remote destination, with some fear at the outset about being alone where there is no phone, and few people around. But the fear was gone the moment I walked through the cabin door and the reality of God’s presence came freshly on me. Why had I been talking about being alone up there, when it was really God and I together for a few days? And it did end up being best kind of retreat and rejuvenation of the spirit, by the Holy Spirit.

Perhaps this time I will spend more time at night looking at the stars. That other outing it was late September and almost too cold for it at that high elevation. There are none of men’s lights to interfere; I’ll put on my glasses and lie on my back on the deck. I remember how the sight of those uncountable stars filled me with awe for God, and with God Himself, so much that I couldn’t bear it for long.

Maybe I was unconsciously “thinking” ahead when I posted that poem and thoughts about night recently. I’ve been looking forward to the time for reading and prayer, and now that I start writing I’m reminded to anticipate the joy of the dark and starry night as well.

Our civilization has fallen out of touch with night.
With lights, we drive the holiness and beauty of night back to the forests and the sea;
the little villages, the crossroads even, will have none of it.
Are modern folk, perhaps, afraid of night?
Do they fear that vast serenity, the mystery of infinite space,
the austerity of stars?
–Henry Beston


But back to the bookish part of the opportunity. The process of preparing for the trip by choosing my reading material (and even the food to bring, I might add) is a sort of pre-retreat. I know I won’t be able to fully mine any of the treasure-troves that this list represents, but if I left one at home, it would surely be the one I’d want to dip into, right? In addition to a couple of the history or literature books from on my sidebar list, I’m taking these spiritually meaty ones.

Books for a Mountain Getaway:
Orthodox Dogmatic Theology by Michael Pomazansky
The Inner Kingdom by Kallistos Ware
Little Russian Philokalia Vol. 1 by St. Seraphim
Courage to Pray by Anthony Bloom
On Prayer by Archimandrite Sophrony

Well, I’m going on my adventure, and pray God will bring me home to tell about it. If not, you’ll all know that it really was unbearably glorious!

Too Many Big Books


Returning books to the library unread always gives me a feeling of sadness. I hated to send these back without a farewell, and perhaps an honorable mention here by way of a photo. They didn’t go completely neglected, either–I skimmed and read bits here and there.

When I had put several volumes on hold during snatches of time away from my couch last month I didn’t take the time to notice how many pages were there waiting to be tackled. Today when I hauled them from the car to the deposit slot my elbow nearly popped out of its socket from the weight.

But I did keep one by Coetzee, one on Hawaii, and one on Africa, with hopes of reading on a retreat this month. And now that I can gaze long at food blogs again I don’t need a whole book on risotto, do I? The top two items are sets of tapes I thought we might listen to in the car on trips, but that didn’t happen.

There are many thoughts stewing, to be written about the books I actually did read during that intensive period. But this nearly empty communication is far easier to accomplish.

Monkeys in the Forest

Rudyard Kipling turned me against monkeys long ago, when I was reading The Jungle Book to the children. As I recall, all the other animals of the jungle despised the monkeys for being foolish and emptyheaded chatterboxes. Add to that the rumors (as I’ve never known a monkey firsthand) that they are in real life dirty and infested with vermin, and the result was my assignment of them somewhere around the level of cockroaches.

Perhaps 15 years ago I took one of the first of the quizzes that have since become ubiquitous on the Internet. This one had you rate animals according to how much you liked them, and at the end you were told in turn something about your character or personality. I think it was based on some Oriental tradition and valuation. My results came back with the assessment that I disliked children. Oh, I’m sure there were some other points to my identity, probably equally misread, but all I remember is my horror at being so unfairly pegged in regard to that one aspect, I who was joyfully homeschooling my several children and praying for more. I figured out eventually that it was the dismissive attitude toward monkeys that did me in.

You know how children behave like little monkeys much of the time? I guess I never thought of mine as resembling monkeys, but if I had, I’d still think that educating them, training them to be grown-ups with good manners and character, would transform them from monkeys into human beings.

In my last post I shared “A Psalm of the Forest” with you, with its descriptions of trees and monkeys honoring and delighting in the Lord with whatever gifts and personality they have. In the scene described, the monkeys can’t be considered foolish, as they are giving glory to their Lord. The fool says in his heart that there is no God, and lives as though he were the center of everything. But the monkeys of this forest are all consumed with excitement over God. They are more like innocent and lively children who have no fear of offending Him.

My heart is softened nowadays toward monkeys, not that I think of them very much. I think the change was happening even before I discovered these lines from Paton, but he in his forest psalm has helped by reminding me how much every creature plays a part in bringing praise to the Creator.

We have the redwoods that amazed Alan Paton growing in our backyard, and have often camped near where he wrote these lines. The same feeling of awe and reverence has come over us in these forests, but nothing so playful and raucous as in the scene he describes. I love the fig tree, the waterfalls, the leaves showering down on their Maker, and the monkeys standing in for all of us children of our Father.

A Psalm of the Forest


Alan Paton wrote Cry, The Beloved Country in about 1947. He hadn’t been planning to write a book when he went on a world tour visiting reformatories, but in Norway his heart was full and he started what became a whole novel before he returned to South Africa after his sabbatical.

A few years later he found himself again in California, where the last words of Cry had been set down, and this time he was supposed to be working on a second novel, staying in a cabin alone under and among the towering redwoods, when he wrote this modern psalm. I hope I can write more about it later, but I can’t wait to share the poem itself with you and tell you that it is one more thing that endears me to this man. I will let him introduce it as he does in Journey Continued, which is the second volume of his autobiography:

“…It is called ‘A Psalm of the Forest,’ the forest being that of Lane’s Flat, but the actual trees of the poem, and the monkeys that played in them, being imported from Africa.”

A Psalm of the Forest

By Alan Paton

I have seen my Lord in the forest, He goes from tree to tree laying His hands upon them.

The yellowwoods stand upright and proud that He comes amongst them, the chestnut throws down blooms at His feet.

The thorns withdraw their branches before Him, they will not again be used shamefully against Him.

The wild fig makes a shade for Him, and no more denies Him.

The monkeys chatter and skip about in the branches, they peer at Him from behind their fingers,

They shower Him with berries and fruits, they shade the owls from their hiding places,

They stir the whole forest, they screw up their faces,

They say to each other unceasingly, It is the Lord.

The mothers cuff their children, and elder brothers the younger,

But they jump from tree to tree before Him, they bring down the leaves like rain,

Nothing can bring them to order, they are excited to see the Lord.

And the winds move in the upper branches, they dash them like cymbals together,

They gather from all the four corners, and the waterfalls shout and thunder,

The whole forest is filled with roaring, with an acknowledgement, an exaltation.