It was interesting to read of her efforts to coordinate a community response to the 9/11 attacks, and then to read of her transition to teaching high school in her community. I could locate her Dear Church book in the story of her life. I enjoyed reading about her growth, landing almost by accident at a college, and then as an earnest social activist on staff as a church. I too remember childhood prayer meetings and even church business meetings, and the quirky things that go through your head as a child, which probably aren’t that different from the quirky things that go through your head as an adult. While most interests from my childhood have come and gone, my allegiance to Jesus is still with me each new day.”

“In some ways,” she writes, “my conversion was probably as real and trusting as any decision I’ve ever made. She writes about her childhood conversion, something she can’t remember and that really didn’t have much in the way of understanding or faith. I could relate to her, which is, after all, the whole point of a memoir like this. Cunningham has what it takes to guide us to her intended destination. You can settle back in your seat and enjoy the view, knowing that you don’t have to worry about the driver. It’s the same feeling you get (I imagine) when you’re being chauffeured by someone who really knows how to drive. A few pages into this memoir and I relaxed. I read a lot of books, and a very few are characterized by the quality of writing in this book. Now we have Sarah Cunningham, whose former book was called Dear Church: Letters from a Disillusioned Generation.ĭoes Cunningham have anything to offer in this crowded genre?Ībsolutely.

For a while, Don Miller was called a male version of Lamott. She wrote Traveling Mercies, and since then we’ve had quirky memoirs.

Picking Dandelions by Sarah Cunningham