Faith, Forgiveness and Fortitude in Jane Eyre

Faith, Forgiveness and Fortitude in Jane Eyre

Have you always wanted to read this classic novel? Or reread it more deeply? Or simply discuss it thoughtfully with likeminded people?  Join us for this four-part seminar in which we will discuss Charlotte Bronte's pinnacle novel in depth. 


We will divide the novel into four sections and explore topics such as voice, the Self, literary references, a Christian reading and more.  We will find a novel dripping with grace and His Presence amongst its pages.

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Molly McCully Brown: Places I've Taken My Body

Molly McCully Brown: Places I've Taken My Body

Molly McCully Brown cannot forget she has a body. Many of us can. We float through life without recognizing the way we move from one place to another. Brown lives with severe cerebral palsy. She is “visibly disabled” so she must “talk about [her] body everywhere [she] goes.” In this captivating collection of essays Brown explores living with this body; hating it, learning to love it, what she says to her body, what it says to her, where she has taken her body and where she has pushed it to its limits.

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Book Review: MFK Fisher's Consider the Oyster

Book Review: MFK Fisher's Consider the Oyster

Yet even without this photograph, I would have had a similar mental picture of MFK Fisher simply by her voice in, Consider the Oyster, her collection of essays on, you guessed it, the subject of oysters. I would have imagined her in pearls with a martini in her hand describing her recipes of oyster- or ---in a plummy diction reminiscent of Martha Stewart before jail, before she became friends with Snoop Dogg and an old Hollywood actress that graced the films for the 30’s or 40’s. Her accent, of course, would be neither British or American in origin, but somewhere that hovers over the Atlantic for those who can afford to spend time in both places frequently enough.

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I Know How I'll Die

I Know How I'll Die

It starts with a tinge under my skin. An itch begging to be scratched. I find my pulse there, contracting, growing. I dare not touch it. I know it will embed itself under my fingernails, spreading to everything I touch, infecting my eyes, my mouth, the open spaces of my body, eventually seeping into my bloodstream, then to my heart, until… it stops beating, stops throbbing, stops breaking.

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