CharlieDean

I’m careful about which Stephen King books I read. I’ve got an active imagination and some of his books are better left in the freezer (a la Joey Tribiani) – but there are other books of his that I rather enjoy. Of course they aren’t literary – but they’re entertaining – and I sometimes like the conflict between good and evil.

Anyway, a friend loaned me 11/22/98, King’s newest novel and I finished it last week. I told her that this felt different than other King novels. There was a lot more of a love story than in the other books I’ve read, and the evil was more subtle. Of course there were some gory King moments, but much of the book felt more like an enjoyable trip back to the late 50′s/early 1960′s, albeit with King’s more jaded perspective than the usual glossy, starry-eyed reinterpretations of that era. I like how the NY Times said it in their review:

“11/22/63” is a meditation on memory, love, loss, free will and necessity. It’s a blunderbuss of a book, rife with answers to questions: Can one man make a difference? Can history be changed, or does it snap back on itself like a rubber band? Does love conquer all? (The big stuff.)

If you haven’t figured it out by the title of the book yet, the book is about time travel. Specifically it’s about what might happen if you could go back in time and change a significant event in history. Of course, as with all time travel books and movies, the butterfly effect becomes a significant factor.

All right, I’ll stop rambling. If you want a real review, here’s the NY Times’. But here’s my pitch: 11/22/63 was a fun evening read – I enjoyed the journey.

Yesterday at church I was talking about leadership and we read the account from Acts 1 where the apostles replace Judas Iscariot with Matthias by casting lots. Afterwards, a friend came up to me and while it wasn’t the point of the message, he said that he had real problems with Peter’s quotation and application of Scripture. Here it is:

Acts 1:15-26 (NIV)

When I was first out of graduate school – in my first “real job,” –  I felt like I had boundless energy. I slept little, worked a lot and when I wasn’t working we were usually with people.

I don’t know if it’s age, wisdom, or a greater awareness of self that I’m cultivating, but I’m starting to notice when I’m tired – and not just physically. One of the things I’m noticing more is how emotionally tired I can get. Crisis, conflict and the daily realities of ministry life lead me to these places where I just feel emotionally drained. By Sunday night, I was there. Tired. Spent. Worn out. Poured out. Nothing in the tank. It was to the point, that I could have met up with the cooking club to help them serve a meal – but I just couldn’t do it.

And so, I went home and put on my flannel pajama pants and a sweatshirt – and I think the lights were out around 9:30. And I slept about nine hours. And since yesterday was a holiday – and I’d planned on taking the day off anyway – I decided to do what it takes to rest when I’m emotionally tired. Namely, to wear out my body.

So, while Jennifer took the boys to the zoo. I worked in the basement, texturing the ceiling and walls. I worked up a sweat. I got covered in joint compound, including a big glob that fell in my hair. I got obsessed about joint compound to water to sand ratio. I didn’t think much. I didn’t feel anything. I let my emotions rest while my body worked.

And then, I spent the afternoon looking through cookbooks and reading the novel I’m working on. And it was good. I feel better today.

I’m pretty sure – 14 years ago – when I started this thing called the pastorate – I would have just went to work on Monday and plowed through. I think I’m better though for paying attention.