Riven

One of the most amazing books I’ve read. Beautifully written. Captivating. Powerful.

At the beginning of January I saw Dallas Jenkins mention, on Facebook, this book by his father as being one of his favorites. The concept was intriguing so I purchased it on a whim. I started reading it with a sense of foreboding, not because of the end that had been spoiled in the post, but because the downtrodden pastor seemed a theme too close for comfort. And, sure enough, very early in I wrote a text note that “prophesied” this book would wreck me.

This morning I woke up around 5:55am and began to read again until I finished the book. It did. Riven wrecked me. I can’t imagine God using me so powerfully. This is what every pastor longs for, to know that the truth of God’s Word is making an impact, but I simply don’t know that I am. I AM the Reverend Carey. I don’t doubt God, but I doubt myself like I’m training for the Olympic Gold in the sport. Riven was like taking all my fears and frustrations and upsets out of my shame closet and throwing them up against the wall for random strangers to read… and judge me with mocking.

This book was what I wanted it to be:
- Charming in its relatable characters
- Enjoyable in its humor and familiarity
- Predictable in its simplicity
- Surprising in its twists as you assume an outcome
- Sometimes annoying in its dialogue
- Gut-wrenching in its nearness to me
- Challenging in its call to persevere

Throughout, but especially toward the end, I had to admit with a tinge of bitterness that this book understandably glosses over the real-time wilderness moments that sometimes make life seem unbearable. They were mentioned in brief, alluded to in montage format, but when one is in the midst of such an ordeal, the coming wrap-up feels superficial. Of course, this book, like every other, will end like a tv show or movie where everything ends as it should, we at least the promise of hope and redemption that has started. But those aren’t the stories that get told. The pain gets a montage because the reality goes on longer than anyone would like. But when you’ve seen, or experienced, this kind of pastoral pain, the neat, tidy conclusions seem like the unicorn paddock at the local zoo. I get it, but it also drives me to want to share my own story, a work of fiction written for me and those like me.

There is healing in a book that takes you out of yourself so you can better see yourself, and imagine a way forward. Riven is that book for me.

I enjoyed it, was gripped to continue, laughed, cried, and felt the push to keep going. I’m thankful for that.

Although I was a little confused about the initial bouncing between what seemed like two unrelated stories, it soon became apparent they would join. The writing was riveting. The story was compelling. I’m glad I read this.