I attended a workshop this weekend on Memoir Writing. As I was listening to the panelists talk about telling an honest personal story, I couldn’t help but think of Mary DeMuth’s memoir, Thin Places. The book officially releases today, but I was provided an advance copy for review. I meant to finish it by now, but a few chapters in, I realize this is not a book to rush through.
Much like Annie Dilliard, Mary invites the reader in to sit a while, giving the rich, poetic imagery time to settle and weave and surround. Her voice is honest, redemptive and raw. And sometimes, because of the subject, difficult to get through. I admit I put it down more than once because it was simply heartbreaking. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But each time I picked it up again, Mary’s words reminded me of the healing and redemption that come from brokenness.
In her own words: “The end result is story: mine. It’s the story of a little girl who faced sexual abuse, neglect, drug-using parents, fear, death of a parent, and a host of other malevolence.
And yet it’s a hope-filled story, where the bright light of God’s climactic redemption outshines the dark places. It’s a story of God’s nearness when I thought I’d nearly lose my mind and will to live. How grateful I am for the beautiful love of Jesus, how dearly He chose frail me to shame the wise. It’s really His story after all.”
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