Book Review: Rescued: A Prodigal's Journey Home

I had this great reading plan for break, but I forgot that my mom usually has a huge stack of books waiting for me at her house.  This book was one from her stack.

As you can probably tell from the title, this is the story of one man's spiritual journey and his return to the religion of his youth.  Like, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, this is one person's journey, and it doesn't necessarily reflect my own, but I can and do appreciate reading someone else's story. Those moments of reflection and inspiration give me insight into how other people think and react. And I am of the firm opinion that each person is on their own path.  While there might be similarities in our experiences, each of our spiritual journeys is unique.

Johnston tells his story, focusing on the events surrounding the LDS temple dedication in Bolivia, and his memories of serving in Bolvia many years before.   One of the things that I found fascinating was his description of the people and the role that faith played in their lives. It was

a place where people bore witness to personal visions and prophetic dreams as often as they discussed the soccer scores.
As in the celebrated novels of Latin American authors, the supernatural and natural worlds blended seamlessly in our mission.  And when I went back thirty years later for the dedication, it was still the same.  If a member told you her grandmother had paid her a visit, you never knew if the woman had come from another town or another world.  Daily life push so-called reality into soft focus and brought the inner workings of the heart into high relief. 

The other chapter that I loved tells of his friendship with Neal A. Maxwell that grew from their associations at Desert News.  He had asked Elder Maxwell to submit a list of favorite books for a series that Johnston was writing on the favorite books of prominent people.  He was surprised at one title on the list, first because he too loved it, but it went deeper than that.

The reason I flashed on its choice by Elder Maxwell was I often kept copies of the book around to give as gifts, though I seldom mentioned it when discussing literature with my academic friends.  It was a guilty please.  I was, as I said earlier, still a disciple of the God of Good Taste.  And lofty little tomes of spiritual awakening didn't qualify.
But Elder Maxwell was an academic and knew literature better than I did.  And he had put the book out there for all to see, without a drop of self-consciousness or shame.  He didn't worry about what others thought.  He owned up to the things of his heart.
I had to admire that.  

I had to admire it, too.  In fact, it is one of the things that I have been trying to do more of this year, especially with this blog.  Not everyone will approve of my choice of books, or agree with how they affected me, but I've found much more peace and happiness as I have owned my choices and my responses to those books.

This final book review of 2013 is kind a return home for me too.  The year started out strong.  I was reading a lot and writing a lot.  But life sometimes pulls you in other directions.  This holiday season has given me a chance to jump back into books.  I have two more books that I hope to review before Monday.  And then, it's time to get back into fiction.  Happy New Year, everyone!