The Beautiful Ache: Finding the God Who Satisfies When Life Does Not

I'm reviewing this book right now for Windsor Crossing. The subtitle says "finding the God who satisfies when life does not." I didn't expect it to be any good. I've found that I do not like most authors and most books. The last one I reviewed was certainly a matte-laminated-clad horror. However, Leigh McLeroy is a surprisingly good writer. And one part of the book in particular has stopped me cold. She talks about how as a 7-year-old the first thing she ever bought with her own money was a book she picked out (for the cover) called "Beautiful Joe." It was the story of a dog who suffered untold abuse and was only beautiful to one person... and it was his struggle to find his way back to that one person who actually found him beautiful. McLeroy talks about how she wept as a little kid over this dog in a book, but it never once occurred to her to just "check out"... to put the book down and quit reading it because it was too sad or painful. She was in it to win it and determined to hope beyond hope that Joe would find his way back home. Then she talks about a parallel to Abraham and Isaac... how God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son, his only son, whom he loved. She writes about wondering what Abraham's sleepless prayers were like that night. Did he beg God to kill Isaac in his sleep so that he wouldn't have to follow through? Did he beg God to change his mind that night? What must have been going through his head? God, of course, provided the ram, and the story ended happily enough (no word on the costs of therapy for Isaac). But McLeroy points out something astonishing to me: NEVER does it say in the text that Abraham checked out of the story, emotionally. Never does it say that he tried to diminish the beauty of the gift in order to abate the pain at its departure. He never said, "Well, Isaac's not really that great of a son. I could do better." He never thought, "This is just part of the game of Life. I'll get a new kid." He never shrugged and said, "Oh well. Isaac's just a boy. God can bring me a new one." The parallels to my life and, I suspect, many others' lives, are uncanny. I find myself often denying the beauty of something that I lost so that I can ameliorate the pain of its departure. On p 142 McLeroy writes, "The Christmas I'd call best so far was the one I almost spent with a man I loved twice-- one I double-mindedly prayed would either lead to something lasting or at least not add the kind o new memories I'd have to work hard to forget. I wanted it to be wonderful or horrible-- all good or all bad-- and it was neither. God must have seen past my shortsighted, bed-hedging request, because my holiday that year was crammed full of mostly good moments, lots of them, strung together like tiny lights, each one a glowing reminder that once upon a cold December, we were at home with one another. That Christmas we made snow angels, shopped in three states and veered into Canada, sang, and played Scrabble in our stocking feet. Our

Former ghostwriter and creator of the "Wednesday Words" email devotional Leigh McLeroy presents The Beautiful Ache: Finding the God Who Satisfies When Life Does Not, a collection of inspirational writings reaching out to fellow Christians who feel unsatisfied despite the adventures of life, marriage, and career. From the ache to belong and hear God, to the aches of memory, labor, grief, and the ache to worship and feast with God, The Beautiful Ache poignantly illuminates Christian emotions and devotion. "How good is it to have a God who's made promises - wild ones! - and kept them? Who is keeping them still? How sweet to fall asleep to the lullaby of longing that he sings and wake up every morning searching for brand-new evidence of his arrival. And what a shame to deny that you're dying to do just that - not once a year but over and over until time cannot be counted anymore." The Beautiful Ache is deeply spiritual, and highly recommended for devout Christians of all walks of life.

"The Beautiful Ache" is a beautifully written exploration of longing. Spiritual insights flow naturally from a deep well of personal experience - the humor and poignancy of an examined life. This book has both message and mood. And the twilight mood is especially enticing - bittersweet, nostalgic, hopeful, yearning.

I finished reading this book hopeful about my own story, not because of anything in myself, but because of "the ultimate goodness of the Storyteller". I've already passed along copies to family and friends for their encouragement. I look forward to reading it again!

This book struck so many chords and answered so many questions in my life: Why aren't my heart's desires God's desires for me? How can we listen for God's voice and hear it in everyday, ordinary non-coincidences? How can I relate my faith to others in a more meaningful way? Leigh answers all these questions and more. Most of all, she is not afraid to let her personal experiences speak loudly of her faith, even if they represent the disappointments/embarrassments/failures most of us have trouble talking about, much less writing about. Buy this book for yourself and for your friends. They will thank you.