The best laid plans of mice and men, they say, are wrecked by COVID. This is not really what they say of course, but times being what they are, a little modification is in order.

I’d planned to drop another weekly update here on Monday, but Amber came down with that wicked virus. She immediately quarantined, holed up in our bedroom where she’s been left in relative peace (if anything about COVID can be peaceful). This has left me with a bit fuller plate than normal—boys and business and school and dinner and all the rest—which accounts for the delay.

Even in the pandemic pandelerium, there’s been a fair amount of beauty, though. Friends have shared flowers and food. I’ve carved out a little extra time to make the final edits to a novel I’ve been writing for over 8 years (you can read it in serial fashion by signing up here). And I’ve caught up on some nightly reading, particularly two books which I’d like to recommend.

Book the First: Shirt of Flame

Heather King is the kind of writer I’d like to be when I grow up. She’s a lawyer, a recovered alcoholic, a Catholic with a penchant for a fine twist of phrase. We have a good bit in common. For Lent, I began her book Shirt of Flame: A Year with Saint Therese of Lisieux. In it, she draws parallels between her life and the life of a cloistered nun from 19th century France. But like all great writers, King’s writing is not so myopic as to represent a conflation of her life and St. Therese’s. It’s far more universal than that. This is a book that allows you to find yourself in the pages. Over and over. And to make it all the more savory, she drops dimes like this:

“Love is the wild card that gives us the incandescent drive to subvert all power systems. Desire is the unpredictable x that throws off all bets.”

Book the Second: Learning to Pray

I also picked up a copy of Fr. James Martin, SJ’s new book, Learning to Pray: A Guide for Everyone. The title is self-explanatory. The reason I picked it might not be.

I’ve been asked lately about prayer and God and faith by those who don’t believe or can’t believe or choose not to believe for whatever reason (some of them very profound). In fact, one asked me whether there were good “beginner books” on things of faith, and when the algorithms on Amazon recommended Learning to Pray a few days later, I took it as a sign. I’ve only made my way through the first few chapters, but I can confirm: If you’re a beginner (or novice or expert) in the art of prayer, you’ll find something in these pages. It’d be a great book to round out your Lenten season (or simply your March).

I hope you’ll grab a copy of these books. And while we’re on the topic of books, shoot me an email and tell me: What are you reading?