Books like Night of Miracles

It talks about finding Sisters in Christ without referring to them as Sisters in Christ.

Wants you to focus on your five specific close relationships where you share everything. She explores these five “paths to connection” close, safe, protected, deep, and committed. She gave some great examples from her own life and one of the things that awed me the most was how close their small group in their new church was; to the point of discussing their finances with each other.

She said it brought real peace to their marriage because nothing was hidden, all was laid bare in front of people who truly wanted their success. Comes to the point of needing sisters in Christ from a different angle that I enjoyed and was really engaging. 

First of all, I love that name. What the Fowke (a pseudonym)!

But mostly, this book opened a window for me and showed me how big, how dramatic, and how many ancient sites there were in Missouri. Everywhere! I was amazed to find so many in the county in which I live, Boone.

But, again, what makes this book sad is that most of these sites are gone, looted, bulldozed over, pilfered, vanished. Yes, deliberately. We clearly had no respect for the ancients. And we still don’t. A site in Fenton was recently destroyed for a Walmart.

Will the civilization after us destroy all our monuments? Hate to say this, but I hope so. Our hubris decrees it. 

Let’s face it. Christianity has been used to support slavery, encourage white people to be racist, and send women back to the 1950s.

That’s why I found Jarod Roll’s Spirit of Rebellion refreshing and important. It was a good reminder that faith can also provide the moral courage necessary for change. It can unite people instead of dividing them.

I can’t imagine a place and time more disposed to racist divisions than rural Missouri in the late 19th century. Yet, poor white and Black farmers there found common ground as rebels against the emerging capitalist order. How? Through the Pentecostal revivals that swept the region in this same period. If that’s not a message of hope in these trying times, then I don’t know what is.

When I read this book several years ago, I was just starting out in my writing career, and I remember thinking, If only someday I could write like this! Lisa Wingate has a beautiful way of eliciting emotion and empathy, of creating scenes and situations so true-to-life that she never fails to draw me in. Like all her books, Tending Roses takes a deeply honest look at human relationships—the good, the bad, and the in-between—and always with an underlying current of faith. Kate’s situation may be different from my own, but I could still relate to her feelings and struggles, her questions and doubts. That resonance—that connection—is what makes any story memorable.

This book was my first Beverly Jenkins novel, and it made me fall in love with her historical romance novels. Before I read it, all the historicals I’d read were Regencies. I was thrilled to find a historical romance with black characters in the United States, which opened my eyes to a part of history I didn’t know much about.

But, the historical aspects were not the only thing that captured my attention. Galen, the Creole hero and free Black man who worked as a conductor on the Underground Railroad, is the reason I recommend this book. There is plenty of chemistry and sensuality between the couple, but his gentleness and love for Hester, a former slave, is unmatched. Galen is one of the best kinds of heroes, and Hester deserves all the love he showers her with. 

This book reminded me of the deep parallels in the histories of Missouri and Kentucky. I don’t tend to associate Kentucky with Missouri, but Astor’s book really drives home why that is wrongheaded. Both were border states and, during the war, both suffered guerrilla insurgencies, had divided populations, and ended up supporting the pro-Confederate Lost Cause vision of the war. And when so much writing on Kentucky’s history is focused on its white inhabitants, Astor restores agency to its African American residents, showing how they resisted slavery and then, after emancipation, created their own institutions to contest for racial equality in the face of fierce opposition.

This is a very powerful book that takes the city of St. Louis as a case study to illustrate the amount of violence, discrimination, and inequities that have happened across a 300-year period, particularly with respect to race. 

Johnson develops the idea of racial capitalism throughout the book, and notes that “the red thread that runs through this entire book is the historical relationship between imperialism and anti-Blackness.” At the same time, the city has also been home to both communist and Black radical organizing into the 20th century. 

A highly interesting and important case study of American inequality and exploitation.

I love Lidie Newton. She is a newlywed who accompanies her abolitionist husband from Illinois to Kansas Territory, at a time when the territory is mired in partisan rage and violence. Lidie narrates the story, and her straightforward, often insightful accounts pulled me in immediately. I was right there with her as she forged her way through numerous exploits, some humorous, others heart-breaking. The story is populated with characters who are both colorful and believable, and I came away with a heightened understanding of the role played by events in Kansas and Missouri during the frightening months leading up to the Civil War.

Here's another amazing woman—angry, determined 18-year-old Adair—who travels through Missouri’s brutal Civil War landscape looking for her father. Jailed in St. Louis under horrid conditions for suspected Confederate sympathies, she brawls with a fellow prisoner, strategically worms her way into the prison matron’s good graces, then captures the heart of a Union interrogator who helps her escape.

I am not a horse person, but Jiles’s description of Adair’s relationship with her horse Whiskey is otherworldly and totally converted me. One nightmare scene follows another as Adair makes her way back to her family home, and I love the resourceful lies she concocts to save herself and Whiskey amid guerrilla warfare and martial law.

Beautiful language; Jiles is a poet, and it shows.

Street Justice is a terrific ethnography on an issue too seldom talked about in criminal justice textbooks, namely, payback in the context of drug dealing.

Jacobs and Wright did not set out here for any new philosophical insights about revenge. Instead, they are interested in its reality. What emerges from this study is a stark catalog of how retaliation actually works, among real people, in a real American city, and what a chilling picture it is.

Based on interviews with actual St. Louis offenders who related their personal experiences with loss, pain, humiliation, and anger, Street Justice is an eye-opener even for those of us who thought we knew something about this topic.

Read this book if you a cop. If you are just interested in law and violence, as I am, read this one alongside Miller, Gould, and a few of the Icelandic Sagas, and I guarantee you will… show more.