family

Movie Break: The Secret of Roan Inish

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

I was traveling and the ladies were busy on St. Patrick’s Day, so we still haven’t watched our annual standby, The Quiet Man with John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. Last night, however, we watch something new to us, a 1995 Irish film called The Secret of Roan Inish.

In 1995, I would have been halfway through my time at Yale, drinking too much Mountain Dew, studying to Soundgarden, and wasting braincells on “edgy” thrillers and crime movies. This movie passed unnoticed, but in recent years somehow crept back onto my radar. So this weekend, when the Sunday Funday jar yielded a slip of paper reading Dad’s Choice Movie, I knew where we were headed.

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Book Break: Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance

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Last summer, when we were visiting Jodi’s parents, her mom gave me a copy of JD Vance’s memoir Hillybilly Elegy. I think she had picked it up for herself, but we were talking about the upcoming election, and she thought I had a better chance of reading it sometime in the near future. She said I could tell her about it when I did.

Well, Momma Venjohn, here you go.

In case you avoid the news: JD Vance is a young, former US senator for the state of Ohio, now vice president of the United States of America. He is a Marine Corps veteran, a graduate of Ohio State University and Yale Law School, and the author of the afore-mentioned memoir, a book-length reflection on a traumatic childhood, poverty and addiction in Appalachia and the Rust Belt, and the dysfunctional family connections that somehow got him through where so many others flounder.

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Wednesday Witness: Digging Deeper the Right Way

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Awhile back, Facebook served up to me an ad for sarcastic coffee mugs, including one that read “No One Cares. Work Harder.” I recognized it right away as that strain of humor that laments how soft we have become, how prone we are to excuses and taking the easy way out of tough situations—but it didn’t seem funny. 

See, I tend to think I need to handle whatever comes my way in order to measure up. I don’t want to fail or let anyone down, and I struggle to say no or ask for help. Reading that mug felt like the world’s weight settling on my shoulders: I’ll never be caught up. I’ll never retire. I’ll never rest.

Doing good work well is a virtue, but when our efforts become a relentless slog to do more, something changes. An old friend tells me that BUSY means Burdened Under Satan’s Yoke—because, as you’ll recall, Jesus says to take up His yoke, and we will find rest.

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Wednesday Witness: Corporal Works of Mercy – Bury the Dead

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These Wednesday Witness columns essentially track what the Lord is doing in my heart and life regarding the seven Corporal Works of Mercy:

  • to feed the hungry
  • to give drink to the thirsty
  • to clothe the naked
  • to shelter the homeless
  • to comfort the sick
  • to ransom the captive (to visit prisoners)
  • to bury the dead

If you look closely, one of these works is not like the others: While the first six Corporal Works concern the needs and comfort of living persons, the seventh focuses on our bodily remains. As a result, it has often seemed like the work I’m least likely to carry out in any practical sense, since I am not a minister, mortician, or cemetery attendant.

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A Year Apart: Reflecting on My Father’s Passing

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One year ago today, my father passed away.

I flew to Michigan early that morning with the experienced observation of a close family friend ringing in my head: It won’t be long. The flight was flawless and landed early. When the rental car clerk learned why I was in Michigan, he expedited everything, and I was on the road in minutes. Traffic moved. The pavement was dry. I drove the limit and made myself relax, reflecting that this was unfolding in God’s time, and I would arrive when I should.

I arrived just in time. My sister came out to greet me in the driveway and said she thought Dad may have just stopped breathing. I went in and held his hand, which was warmer to my touch than it had been in years. I spoke to him softly, telling him it was okay, telling him to go to the Lord and not to be afraid, telling him we were okay and would take care of each other. 

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