like dandelion dust

"What if the only child you ever loved was taken from you forever?"

Last night I stayed up late finishing the inspirational novel, Like Dandelion Dust, by Karen Kingsbury. Read this book if you get the chance. It was an emotional read. The story is about birth parents that try to regain custody of their 4yr old son who has been living with adoptive parents since birth. Understanding the lengths that someone will go through to keep their child or get them back is powerful. Let me just say I cannot imagine being in either mother's position.

Having a child now of my own made everything that much more relatable. It truly hurts me to my core to think about this kind of thing happening. While Hannah belongs to Joe and me, the whole time reading this book I couldn't help but think about the what if's. What if Hannah was taken away from us? What if someone or something out of our control made us give her up? These are questions that no one wants to think about, including me. But occasionally you read a book or article, or see a movie that makes you think about things that you would otherwise refuse to.  

Like Dandelion Dust is also a movie. (To see the movie trailer click here.) It is playing in theaters, but not very many, and I don't think I'll have the chance to see it. Karen Kingsbury is a Christian author who writes "life-changing fiction." She writes about real circumstances and real people. My mom will buy and read her books and then send them to me. (I have a big stack of books I need to read.) Joe calls her books "dramatic fiction" and insists that they all make me cry at some point. I think he's exaggerating. Regardless, I am always glad I read them. I strive to be a better Christian and books like these help me remember my priorities and where my focus should always be: on God.

the help

I love to read, but I have struggled to find the time since having Hannah. I feel like any free time I have should be spent productively - like doing laundry, ironing, cleaning, or going through mail that seems to back up at an incredible pace.

I saw something recently on the news about the decrease in book sales due to the e-readers that have become so popular. (My mom has one she loves. Though she also reads LOTS of books and this makes it easier while she travels during the week.) There was a prediction of the gradual decrease of books produced over time. Like they would phase out like video tapes and CDs. This made me sad. I stare at the computer screen enough. I can't imagine reading all my books on a screen too. Besides, is there anything better than curling up in a comfy chair with a great book, or reading at the beach with your toes in the sand? I am sorry. Call me old-fashioned, but I want things to stay the same in some regards.

Several months ago I read about a book on Amy's blog by Kathryn Stockett called The Help. I didn't need recommendations from anyone else, though I did get them. Simply from what she said, I knew I had to read it. It was about the South - the segregated South - set in Jackson, Mississippi. Help refers to the black maids that worked for the white families in the 1960's. You can read the synopsis here.

So I finally made the time. I couldn't put it down. I read it mostly late at night when Hannah (and Joe) were sleeping. And that is when I finished it, a Thursday night not too long ago. I hated when it ended. It is a book that I will never forget.

My favorite character was Aibileen. The storyline that impacted me the most was the relationship between Aibileen and the white child she took care of, Mae Mobley. The girl's mother paid no attention to her daughter, much less show her love. Aibileen loved her though...

I kept thinking of Hannah. I cherish every moment I get to hold my baby in my arms. I was overcome with emotion imagining a mother not loving her own child, not wanting to take any part in raising them. After I finished reading I found myself standing over Hannah's crib late into the night, crying because I love her so much, and praying because I am so blessed to have her.

The Help opened my eyes to events that shaped the South. Of course I knew these things happened from other books, from movies, etc. But to read it in the pages of this book was just different. It reminded me of the importance of being true to my beliefs and raising my children to be color-blind. Thank you Amy, Karen, Juliana, and everyone else that led me to read this book.