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Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me: A Memoir. . . of Sorts
"When I first discovered the grainy picture of me in my mother's desk . . . I was overwhelmed by the feeling that the boy in the boat was not waving and laughing at the person snapping the photo as much as he was frantically trying to get the attention of the man I am today. The boy was beckoning me to join him on a voyage through the harrowing straits of memory. . . .
This book is the record of that voyage."
At the age of sixteen, Ian Morgan Cron was told by his mother that his father, a motion picture executive, also worked for the CIA in Europe. This astonishing revelation, coupled with his father's dark struggles with alcoholism, upended the world of a boy struggling to become a man. Decades later, as he faces his own personal demons, Ian realizes the only way to find peace is to voyage back through a childhood marked by extremes--privilege and hardship, violence and tenderness, truth and deceit--that he's spent years trying to forget. In this surprisingly funny and forgiving memoir, Ian reminds us that no matter how different the pieces may be, in the end we are all cut from the same cloth, stitched by faith into an exquisite quilt of grace.
This book is the record of that voyage."
At the age of sixteen, Ian Morgan Cron was told by his mother that his father, a motion picture executive, also worked for the CIA in Europe. This astonishing revelation, coupled with his father's dark struggles with alcoholism, upended the world of a boy struggling to become a man. Decades later, as he faces his own personal demons, Ian realizes the only way to find peace is to voyage back through a childhood marked by extremes--privilege and hardship, violence and tenderness, truth and deceit--that he's spent years trying to forget. In this surprisingly funny and forgiving memoir, Ian reminds us that no matter how different the pieces may be, in the end we are all cut from the same cloth, stitched by faith into an exquisite quilt of grace.
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First published June 7, 2011
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About the author
Ian Morgan Cron
13 books567 followersIan Morgan Cron is a bestselling author, nationally recognized speaker, Enneagram teacher, trained psychotherapist, Dove Award–winning songwriter, and Episcopal priest. His books include the novel Chasing Francis and spiritual memoir Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me. Ian draws on an array of disciplines—from psychology to the arts, Christian spirituality and theology—to help people enter more deeply into conversation with God and the mystery of their own lives. He and his wife, Anne, live in Nashville, Tennessee.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 399 reviews
July 7, 2011
You know, there are those books you read and quickly can not recall. There are those books that give you an stray thought or two. And then there are books that get under your skin and transform the way you look at things. This is one of the third kind. This book is powerful, at times even overwhelming. You can not read this book and approach fatherhood or the Eucharist the same way again. You can not read this book and think of Christianity the same way. This book will change you.
Cron's story of growing up with a father larger - and smaller - than life is enthralling and heartbreaking. The secrets of the CIA and of alcoholism mix together in stories shared in a confessional whisper. Weaved throughout is a sense of just how many cracks there are in our mosaics, with a grounding in the absurdity of the author's life. Passionate--open hearted--piercingly intelligent--earthy--occasionally profane--absolutely unconventional--Ian's raw story of his own life pulled me along to its hopeful conclusion.
What an extraordinary memoir - an exquisitely written story of a life that is fascinating, devastating and ultimately truly redemptive.
Cron's story of growing up with a father larger - and smaller - than life is enthralling and heartbreaking. The secrets of the CIA and of alcoholism mix together in stories shared in a confessional whisper. Weaved throughout is a sense of just how many cracks there are in our mosaics, with a grounding in the absurdity of the author's life. Passionate--open hearted--piercingly intelligent--earthy--occasionally profane--absolutely unconventional--Ian's raw story of his own life pulled me along to its hopeful conclusion.
What an extraordinary memoir - an exquisitely written story of a life that is fascinating, devastating and ultimately truly redemptive.
February 5, 2024
This account of a boy's childhood blasted by a father's alcoholism and secret life is so lyrical you can almost forget how horrible it was in the living of it. Ian Morgan Cron is a gifted writer who seamlessly weaves together the conflicting emotions and the inner turmoil of this kind of upbringing.
Surprisingly, a wry humor leavens Mr. Cron's relentless tale of sorrow. A few hints of an idyllic boyhood that could have been find their way into the narrative. In particular, I loved the scene in which the author makes creative use of a stash of emergency flares, thus increasing his social capital among the neighborhood toughs. "None of us would ever be so beautifully eleven years old again," he writes.
These moments of relief keep the reader from being utterly crushed by the gargantuan presence of the mean, angry drunk of a father who terrorizes his family to the point of spitting on them and beating them. No less culpable is Mr. Cron's glamorous but frequently absent mother, who finds surprising but necessary success in the working world, yet ultimately fails to protect her children from the wrath of her alcoholic husband.
Mr. Cron's prose is arresting in its beauty. Of the many passages I could quote, one is a scene in which a friend gently confronts Mr. Cron with his growing alcohol problem and then comforts him as he weeps: "There are acts of love so subtle and delicate that the sweep of their beauty goes unseen. I know of none more miraculous and brave than that of a seventeen-year-old boy coming to his friend's side to take his tear-soaked face to his breast."
I was disappointed that this lyricism disappears in the last few chapters of the book. Once the author's crisis is past, he seems eager to imprint the reader with his present near-perfect life as an Episcopal priest and doting father. The writing becomes more pedestrian as the clichés pile up and his conversation begins to include words like "freaking" and "big brass balls." (But I guess there's nothing like having kids for forcing unimaginable words out of your mouth: "No guns at the table!" "We're gonna annihilate the other team, right?!?") He entirely skips over his journey out of alcoholism and into faith. In fact, although Jesus is given top billing in the book's title, he makes rare appearances in the book, and one that particularly startled me.
On the last page of the book, the author places himself squarely in the corner of Rob Bell (Love Wins) and in a few sentences seems able to ease his conflicted self with a confusing and simplistic resolution. But I never argue with a person's experience, just assign it some distance if I can't go along with it. I hope Mr. Cron writes again in more depth about his faith journey. Perhaps then this last page will make more sense to me.
Surprisingly, a wry humor leavens Mr. Cron's relentless tale of sorrow. A few hints of an idyllic boyhood that could have been find their way into the narrative. In particular, I loved the scene in which the author makes creative use of a stash of emergency flares, thus increasing his social capital among the neighborhood toughs. "None of us would ever be so beautifully eleven years old again," he writes.
These moments of relief keep the reader from being utterly crushed by the gargantuan presence of the mean, angry drunk of a father who terrorizes his family to the point of spitting on them and beating them. No less culpable is Mr. Cron's glamorous but frequently absent mother, who finds surprising but necessary success in the working world, yet ultimately fails to protect her children from the wrath of her alcoholic husband.
Mr. Cron's prose is arresting in its beauty. Of the many passages I could quote, one is a scene in which a friend gently confronts Mr. Cron with his growing alcohol problem and then comforts him as he weeps: "There are acts of love so subtle and delicate that the sweep of their beauty goes unseen. I know of none more miraculous and brave than that of a seventeen-year-old boy coming to his friend's side to take his tear-soaked face to his breast."
I was disappointed that this lyricism disappears in the last few chapters of the book. Once the author's crisis is past, he seems eager to imprint the reader with his present near-perfect life as an Episcopal priest and doting father. The writing becomes more pedestrian as the clichés pile up and his conversation begins to include words like "freaking" and "big brass balls." (But I guess there's nothing like having kids for forcing unimaginable words out of your mouth: "No guns at the table!" "We're gonna annihilate the other team, right?!?") He entirely skips over his journey out of alcoholism and into faith. In fact, although Jesus is given top billing in the book's title, he makes rare appearances in the book, and one that particularly startled me.
On the last page of the book, the author places himself squarely in the corner of Rob Bell (Love Wins) and in a few sentences seems able to ease his conflicted self with a confusing and simplistic resolution. But I never argue with a person's experience, just assign it some distance if I can't go along with it. I hope Mr. Cron writes again in more depth about his faith journey. Perhaps then this last page will make more sense to me.
May 9, 2025
This was just about as much of a bounce around, intrigued filled, human, and oddly enough silly at times of a memoir as you could probably guess just by reading the books title header. Really for the most part I was more than entertained and even surprised and thrilled at some of the things both he and his family experienced mostly due to his fathers crazy job roles throughout the years but I can’t deny sometimes just as honestly even the most grandeous of lives can be there’s that slight feeling and sense of boring (happy and not negative for the most part) energy, but I’ve definitely walked away with some personal things to reflect and think about even in my own life and I’m glad he decided to write this and I’m just as happy to have been able to have read it. His was a story definitely interesting enough to write on and if I’m being honest his dad should be as well. 3.75/5
January 22, 2012
I've read the reviews for this book - they were what made me want to read it in the first place. I seriously don't see how I am reading the same book as all of these people, because the very things that everyone praises are the things that I think are worst about this book.
Nothing about this book is unique. It's an overgrown blog entry, another hipster Christian book trying to be edgy with pop culture references that will quickly become obsolete and disjointed childhood memories without an overarching theme. The writing doesn't flow well or draw the reader into the story - there have been a few moments that felt they could have really shone with some more editing and polishing, but they were scattered between hodge podge and disconnected anecdotes, written in such a jaded and "trying to be funny" tone that it was hard to appreciate them. Instead of describing events or feelings the author refers to movie titles in italics, and sets them out in very clear simile ("It was LIKE Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was LIKE Pineapple Express. It was LIKE Lord of the Flies.") After a while, it becomes jarring and repetitive. The stories are also interspersed with stream-of-consciousness rambling that adds nothing to the book. It isn't cute or quirky or ~random~, it's extremely distracting.
I would complain about this book being like a rip off of Donald Miller's endless literary catalog of daddy issues, except I really haven't felt so far that this book was even about the author's father. So far I've barely seen him - or, for that matter, seen Jesus or the CIA. I hear some things about the father, but he is one-dimensional and removed, not painfully removed as an absent father but just irrelevant and peripheral. The book centers more on a random assortment of the author's experiences, which may or may not be true, and uses other people as the backdrop for the author's mundane and cliche thoughts and experiences. The treatment of other characters is disheartening as well as the author seems to take on a really unflattering jaded tone at times.
I think my strong aversion to this book is born out of the fact that I really wanted to like it. I wanted it to be a memoir that charmed me, that drew me in and made my own life and experiences seem bigger as a result. Girl Meets God: A Memoir did this beautifully, and I was entranced by A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch: And Other Heroic Acts from Mooreland, Indiana. This book has none of their charm or light, but neither does it have any of the dark interest of truly horrific childhood memoirs (A Stolen Life, anyone?) Very disappointing.
Nothing about this book is unique. It's an overgrown blog entry, another hipster Christian book trying to be edgy with pop culture references that will quickly become obsolete and disjointed childhood memories without an overarching theme. The writing doesn't flow well or draw the reader into the story - there have been a few moments that felt they could have really shone with some more editing and polishing, but they were scattered between hodge podge and disconnected anecdotes, written in such a jaded and "trying to be funny" tone that it was hard to appreciate them. Instead of describing events or feelings the author refers to movie titles in italics, and sets them out in very clear simile ("It was LIKE Raiders of the Lost Ark. It was LIKE Pineapple Express. It was LIKE Lord of the Flies.") After a while, it becomes jarring and repetitive. The stories are also interspersed with stream-of-consciousness rambling that adds nothing to the book. It isn't cute or quirky or ~random~, it's extremely distracting.
I would complain about this book being like a rip off of Donald Miller's endless literary catalog of daddy issues, except I really haven't felt so far that this book was even about the author's father. So far I've barely seen him - or, for that matter, seen Jesus or the CIA. I hear some things about the father, but he is one-dimensional and removed, not painfully removed as an absent father but just irrelevant and peripheral. The book centers more on a random assortment of the author's experiences, which may or may not be true, and uses other people as the backdrop for the author's mundane and cliche thoughts and experiences. The treatment of other characters is disheartening as well as the author seems to take on a really unflattering jaded tone at times.
I think my strong aversion to this book is born out of the fact that I really wanted to like it. I wanted it to be a memoir that charmed me, that drew me in and made my own life and experiences seem bigger as a result. Girl Meets God: A Memoir did this beautifully, and I was entranced by A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch: And Other Heroic Acts from Mooreland, Indiana. This book has none of their charm or light, but neither does it have any of the dark interest of truly horrific childhood memoirs (A Stolen Life, anyone?) Very disappointing.
January 12, 2022
Picked this up mainly because I'd never seen the words "Jesus" and "CIA" so close together before, except on books about famed, paranoid (or was he?) CIA molehunter, James Jesus Angleton. I thought this might be a thoughtful consideration about how Cron reconciled his black and white Christian faith ("thou shalt not kill/steal," "love thy neighbor") with the ever-gray world of the CIA, or if perhaps it was his father's work with the Agency that drove him to alcoholism; but there was none of this. Like, none.
Instead, after a brief scene at his father's funeral attended by a lot of mysterious strangers in dark suits, we get endless stories about young Ian's days at Catholic school first communion, his sweet British nanny - I DON'T CARE! - playing with fireworks, etc. I began listening to this as an audio, but at this point switched to hardcopy so I could skim ahead and see if things got more interesting. And indeed, on page 118 (where the book should have began) Cron states "I was a sophomore in high school when I learned beyond the shadow of a doubt that my father was a spy." But then…back to tales of Ian's own drinking, applying for college, trashing his VW…AARRGGH!!
This book is called Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me; but if there is any justice in the world or truth in advertising it should have been called Me, Jesus, (just a bit about) My Father, and (even less) the CIA. So while not a truly bad book, it will probably be (and I realize it's still January) my most disappointing read of 2022.
NOTE: The only thing that earned this book its second star is that near the end Cron talks to a psychiatrist who treated his father, and who diagnosed him with narcissistic personality disorder, or NPD. And while the following description doesn't really sound like Cron Sr. as described up to that point, it does provide the most concise explanation I have yet read of the still-raging dumpster fire that is Donald Trump:
"There are competing opinions of how someone develops NPD. One is that narcissists experienced profound emotional deprivation as young children, destroying their self-esteem. They compensate for the absence of self-worth they feel by acting as if they have an overabundance of it. They are grandiose, they expect to be treated as superior to other people, they act entitled, they can't admit to wrongdoing, they never apologize because they're never to blame, and their hunger for admiration is insatiable. The one trait all narcissists possess is the inability to recognize or give importance to other people's emotions and feelings. They are incapable of feeling empathy, so they can't love, not even their own children."
Wow. Love him (?) or hate him (!), it is impossible to argue that this doesn't 100% define him.
Instead, after a brief scene at his father's funeral attended by a lot of mysterious strangers in dark suits, we get endless stories about young Ian's days at Catholic school first communion, his sweet British nanny - I DON'T CARE! - playing with fireworks, etc. I began listening to this as an audio, but at this point switched to hardcopy so I could skim ahead and see if things got more interesting. And indeed, on page 118 (where the book should have began) Cron states "I was a sophomore in high school when I learned beyond the shadow of a doubt that my father was a spy." But then…back to tales of Ian's own drinking, applying for college, trashing his VW…AARRGGH!!
This book is called Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me; but if there is any justice in the world or truth in advertising it should have been called Me, Jesus, (just a bit about) My Father, and (even less) the CIA. So while not a truly bad book, it will probably be (and I realize it's still January) my most disappointing read of 2022.
NOTE: The only thing that earned this book its second star is that near the end Cron talks to a psychiatrist who treated his father, and who diagnosed him with narcissistic personality disorder, or NPD. And while the following description doesn't really sound like Cron Sr. as described up to that point, it does provide the most concise explanation I have yet read of the still-raging dumpster fire that is Donald Trump:
"There are competing opinions of how someone develops NPD. One is that narcissists experienced profound emotional deprivation as young children, destroying their self-esteem. They compensate for the absence of self-worth they feel by acting as if they have an overabundance of it. They are grandiose, they expect to be treated as superior to other people, they act entitled, they can't admit to wrongdoing, they never apologize because they're never to blame, and their hunger for admiration is insatiable. The one trait all narcissists possess is the inability to recognize or give importance to other people's emotions and feelings. They are incapable of feeling empathy, so they can't love, not even their own children."
Wow. Love him (?) or hate him (!), it is impossible to argue that this doesn't 100% define him.
October 15, 2012
Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me is alternately funny, touching and instructive. My husband picked it up at the church book store, in part because Father Cron is our favorite celebrant to lead the portion of the liturgy where we sing to begin communion (this is a priest with a good voice, people). I found his memoir as easy to read as his voice is easy to hear. It didn't hurt anything that his story is so close to my own (and yet so very different).
Like me, Cron is the child of an alcoholic. Unlike me, he's managed to look at his story without flinching and is willing to share that journey via this memoir. For a book about a childhood that included some terrifying moments, the story is one of redemption, even when it feels like Jesus is absent. Cron's childhood spent in Catholic grade school was both illuminating (given that my husband is also a product of these schools) and entertaining.
This isn't a book without a tinge of sadness. I appreciated that Cron didn't gloss over the fact that he felt like Jesus wasn't there for him during much of his childhood. I wrestle with this same idea and don't have the answers, either. Don't read this book thinking you'll read the last page the exact same person as when you started it. Do read it expecting to see how the lowest points in your own journey might have been pointing you to where you are today. Read it for the joy of the author's voice, which is authentic and vulnerable without over-sharing. Like Wherever I Wind Up: My Quest for Truth, Authenticity and the Perfect Knuckleball, this book might make you think about your own story and its value. That alone makes it worth the time it will take you to read it.
Like me, Cron is the child of an alcoholic. Unlike me, he's managed to look at his story without flinching and is willing to share that journey via this memoir. For a book about a childhood that included some terrifying moments, the story is one of redemption, even when it feels like Jesus is absent. Cron's childhood spent in Catholic grade school was both illuminating (given that my husband is also a product of these schools) and entertaining.
This isn't a book without a tinge of sadness. I appreciated that Cron didn't gloss over the fact that he felt like Jesus wasn't there for him during much of his childhood. I wrestle with this same idea and don't have the answers, either. Don't read this book thinking you'll read the last page the exact same person as when you started it. Do read it expecting to see how the lowest points in your own journey might have been pointing you to where you are today. Read it for the joy of the author's voice, which is authentic and vulnerable without over-sharing. Like Wherever I Wind Up: My Quest for Truth, Authenticity and the Perfect Knuckleball, this book might make you think about your own story and its value. That alone makes it worth the time it will take you to read it.
June 24, 2021
The thing I love about memoirs is the glimpse into the author’s way of viewing the significant parts of their story. A good memoir reads nothing like a biography. And Ian Cron does this well.
His style of writing, choice of stories, and recounting of his life leave you fascinated and wanting more.
I was drawn in, but I felt I could only go so far as I do not resonate with so much of his story. But for those who do, I will cheerily recommend this book.
His style of writing, choice of stories, and recounting of his life leave you fascinated and wanting more.
I was drawn in, but I felt I could only go so far as I do not resonate with so much of his story. But for those who do, I will cheerily recommend this book.
March 24, 2018
The author begins his story using a child's eye view of life, creating multiple moments of laugh out loud funny observations. It reminded me of the very popular book, "Do Black Patent Leather Shoes, Really Reflect Up" which has recently been reprinted for another generation of readers. These memoirs recount the horrors and confusion of growing up Catholic and attending a Catholic school.
However, once the trauma of Catholic school has been addressed, the remaining three quarters of the book, explores the blisters inflicted from growing up in the deep, dark specter of alcoholism within the family. The loneliness, the lies and fear all become very real. Not only must Ian become a master at hiding from his father, for whom he grieves their lack of relationship but he greatly fears him. His insecurity spills into his life outside of home and his ability to function. Anyone who has spent time in Ala-Non or Adult Children of Alcoholics will see their own pain in this story.
Alas, there is hope in these pages. While the CIA is just a passing part of the story (probably sold a few more copies by incorporating it into the title). The real story is how a young man uses drugs to cope with his fears and inadequacies only to come face to face with the truth that God loves him unconditionally. This translates into a very brief glimpse at his own recovery and his eventual career choice as a youth pastor, and eventually, an Anglican Priest. His expression of his spiritual encounters were simplistic and non-offensive. I felt that there was much more that wasn't expressed (perhaps, that was a personal choice or his publisher's suggestion)? Whatever the reason, I would have liked to read more about his transformation, rather than attempting to appeal to a wider audience.
Mr. Cron's humor and skilled story telling will keep you reading until the last page.
However, once the trauma of Catholic school has been addressed, the remaining three quarters of the book, explores the blisters inflicted from growing up in the deep, dark specter of alcoholism within the family. The loneliness, the lies and fear all become very real. Not only must Ian become a master at hiding from his father, for whom he grieves their lack of relationship but he greatly fears him. His insecurity spills into his life outside of home and his ability to function. Anyone who has spent time in Ala-Non or Adult Children of Alcoholics will see their own pain in this story.
Alas, there is hope in these pages. While the CIA is just a passing part of the story (probably sold a few more copies by incorporating it into the title). The real story is how a young man uses drugs to cope with his fears and inadequacies only to come face to face with the truth that God loves him unconditionally. This translates into a very brief glimpse at his own recovery and his eventual career choice as a youth pastor, and eventually, an Anglican Priest. His expression of his spiritual encounters were simplistic and non-offensive. I felt that there was much more that wasn't expressed (perhaps, that was a personal choice or his publisher's suggestion)? Whatever the reason, I would have liked to read more about his transformation, rather than attempting to appeal to a wider audience.
Mr. Cron's humor and skilled story telling will keep you reading until the last page.
April 11, 2013
Ian Morgan Cron is a masterful story teller. His writing style came across as if we were sharing life stories over a cup of coffee. Some parts were so hilarious that I read them aloud to my husband. When you read a book and can't wait to share a part of it with your loved ones, I think it qualifies as a good read. This is a book about learning to live a full life in spite of a difficult childhood, a story of the love and holiness of God, and the sacredness of sharing one's story, no matter how difficult it might have been. Perhaps because he learned to cope with tragedy in his life by using sarcasm and humor, the author's passive-aggressive nature rings true to this reader with similar coping skills. I am anxious to download his book about St. Francis, but it is not available on Kindle until May 7. I am definitely a fan.
January 13, 2019
4.5. .... because I shouldn't give every single book five stars?
I listen to Ian's Typology podcast, and wasn't sure what to expect from a memoir "of sorts". His story is moving, heartbreaking, encouraging ... no family is exempt from some level of dysfunction, I suspect.
We all want to be seen and to be loved. And we can never know too well that "love always stoops".
I listen to Ian's Typology podcast, and wasn't sure what to expect from a memoir "of sorts". His story is moving, heartbreaking, encouraging ... no family is exempt from some level of dysfunction, I suspect.
We all want to be seen and to be loved. And we can never know too well that "love always stoops".
June 21, 2017
A painful story beautifully told in some of the most delcious prose I've read in a long time.
did-not-finish
February 25, 2023DNF at 17%. I tried, book club friends. But it didn’t grab me. And now that we’ve had our discussion, I’m done.
January 24, 2015
Despite the mention of the CIA in the title, it’s not the primary focus of the book. Ian didn’t know his dad was involved with the CIA until his mid-teens. There had been odd “business trips” when he had thought his father was out of work, his mention of having met people (like President Ford) whom he would not likely have crossed paths with, etc., but the pieces didn’t come together until Cron’s teens.
Cron grew up in England until his father’s work took the family back to the States, where the family set down roots. Cron describes his Irish Catholic upbringing mostly humorously but with a few poignant moments as well. In fact, there is a humorous slant to much of Cron’s writing, but not in connection with his father’s alcoholism. The book focuses primarily on the effect Cron’s father’s alcoholism had on his life: the embarrassment, the anger, the missed concerts, the lack of good example and teaching, the bad example, the lack of relationship.
“’Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.’ That’s what John Edward Pearce said. But what if your childhood was a train wreck? What if your memories of home are more akin to The Shining than The Waltons? It doesn’t matter. Home is not just a place; it’s a knowing in the soul, a vague premonition of a far-off country that we know exists but haven’t seen yet. Home is where we start, and whether we like it or not, our life is a race against time to come to terms with what was or wasn’t” (p.3).
Ian went from trying to be a “good boy” to win his father’s approval, to trying to be a “bad boy” to get his attention. As happens all too often, he began following in his father’s footsteps with drinking, and then went further with drug experimentation.
But the story is also one of redemption. Though tenderhearted towards spiritual things as a child, Ian felt God had let him down by not answering his prayers concerning his father, and he was highly resistant to any kind of Christian influence. But God brought him to the end of himself. Coming to believe was one step, but overcoming his own alcoholism took much longer, and facing and dealing with the buried emotions and the psychological effects of his relationship with his father took longer still.
As the daughter of an alcoholic, I could identify with much that Ian wrote. Somehow I never had the thought that so many kids have that it must be all my fault. (I knew my dad’s problems were his own. I did learn to lay low and stay under the radar either when he was drinking or when he was angry, and to this day I have problems interacting when I think someone is angry. My first instinct is to retreat.)
Some of the quotes that stood out to me:
“Boys with fathers who, for whatever reason, keep their love undisclosed begin life without a center of gravity. They float like astronauts in space, hoping to find ballast and a patch of earth where they can plant their feet and make a life. Many of us who live without these gifts that only a father can bestow go through life banging from guardrail to guardrail, trying to determine why our fathers kept their love nameless, as if ashamed.”
“My father’s psychological and emotional problems so consumed his visual field that he had trouble seeing anyone but himself , much less a lost, father-hungry kid.”
The author definitely has a way with words, and the book is filled with many descriptive phrases. One disadvantage to listening to the audiobook rather than reading a paper or electronic version is that one can’t flip back through the pages, and I didn’t mark as many quotes as I should have (one can “bookmark” with an audiobook – but not while driving or cooking :) ). The writing seemed a little disjointed in some places, being more thematic than linear. But there is light humor as well as deep sadness, poignancy, beauty and grace. I think those of us who are more conservative need to be reminded that God sometimes uses seemingly unconventional ways and means to reach a person, and that we’re not all cookie cutter Christians.
At one point the author says that many of the Christians he knew, I think in his college years, were fans of John McDowell and C. S. Lewis, but he could never get into them, because he didn’t want to parse God, he wanted to experience Him ecstatically. While I do agree that our Christianity needs to be experiential and not just academic (and I think that’s what he was trying to convey), I have a couple of problems with this line of thinking. For one, voices in our heads aren’t always trustworthy. For another, those men are hardly “just” academic, and many are ministered to by their writings and by thinking through the issues they address. The Bible has a lot to say about knowledge and doctrine. I’ve referenced this here many times before, but Peter had one of the most wonderful experiences possible when he saw Jesus transfigured before his eyes, yet he calls the Scripture (a more sure word of prophecy” – more sure than even that experience (II Peter 1:16-21).
Although I think the book is a worthwhile read, I could not recommend it unreservedly. To me the humor slips into irreverence sometimes, there are a few instances of crudeness (jokes about men’s private parts), the theology was a little wonky in some places. I think this book would be especially good if you or someone within your sphere of influence has had an alcoholic parent or a strained relationship with one.
Cron grew up in England until his father’s work took the family back to the States, where the family set down roots. Cron describes his Irish Catholic upbringing mostly humorously but with a few poignant moments as well. In fact, there is a humorous slant to much of Cron’s writing, but not in connection with his father’s alcoholism. The book focuses primarily on the effect Cron’s father’s alcoholism had on his life: the embarrassment, the anger, the missed concerts, the lack of good example and teaching, the bad example, the lack of relationship.
“’Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.’ That’s what John Edward Pearce said. But what if your childhood was a train wreck? What if your memories of home are more akin to The Shining than The Waltons? It doesn’t matter. Home is not just a place; it’s a knowing in the soul, a vague premonition of a far-off country that we know exists but haven’t seen yet. Home is where we start, and whether we like it or not, our life is a race against time to come to terms with what was or wasn’t” (p.3).
Ian went from trying to be a “good boy” to win his father’s approval, to trying to be a “bad boy” to get his attention. As happens all too often, he began following in his father’s footsteps with drinking, and then went further with drug experimentation.
But the story is also one of redemption. Though tenderhearted towards spiritual things as a child, Ian felt God had let him down by not answering his prayers concerning his father, and he was highly resistant to any kind of Christian influence. But God brought him to the end of himself. Coming to believe was one step, but overcoming his own alcoholism took much longer, and facing and dealing with the buried emotions and the psychological effects of his relationship with his father took longer still.
As the daughter of an alcoholic, I could identify with much that Ian wrote. Somehow I never had the thought that so many kids have that it must be all my fault. (I knew my dad’s problems were his own. I did learn to lay low and stay under the radar either when he was drinking or when he was angry, and to this day I have problems interacting when I think someone is angry. My first instinct is to retreat.)
Some of the quotes that stood out to me:
“Boys with fathers who, for whatever reason, keep their love undisclosed begin life without a center of gravity. They float like astronauts in space, hoping to find ballast and a patch of earth where they can plant their feet and make a life. Many of us who live without these gifts that only a father can bestow go through life banging from guardrail to guardrail, trying to determine why our fathers kept their love nameless, as if ashamed.”
“My father’s psychological and emotional problems so consumed his visual field that he had trouble seeing anyone but himself , much less a lost, father-hungry kid.”
The author definitely has a way with words, and the book is filled with many descriptive phrases. One disadvantage to listening to the audiobook rather than reading a paper or electronic version is that one can’t flip back through the pages, and I didn’t mark as many quotes as I should have (one can “bookmark” with an audiobook – but not while driving or cooking :) ). The writing seemed a little disjointed in some places, being more thematic than linear. But there is light humor as well as deep sadness, poignancy, beauty and grace. I think those of us who are more conservative need to be reminded that God sometimes uses seemingly unconventional ways and means to reach a person, and that we’re not all cookie cutter Christians.
At one point the author says that many of the Christians he knew, I think in his college years, were fans of John McDowell and C. S. Lewis, but he could never get into them, because he didn’t want to parse God, he wanted to experience Him ecstatically. While I do agree that our Christianity needs to be experiential and not just academic (and I think that’s what he was trying to convey), I have a couple of problems with this line of thinking. For one, voices in our heads aren’t always trustworthy. For another, those men are hardly “just” academic, and many are ministered to by their writings and by thinking through the issues they address. The Bible has a lot to say about knowledge and doctrine. I’ve referenced this here many times before, but Peter had one of the most wonderful experiences possible when he saw Jesus transfigured before his eyes, yet he calls the Scripture (a more sure word of prophecy” – more sure than even that experience (II Peter 1:16-21).
Although I think the book is a worthwhile read, I could not recommend it unreservedly. To me the humor slips into irreverence sometimes, there are a few instances of crudeness (jokes about men’s private parts), the theology was a little wonky in some places. I think this book would be especially good if you or someone within your sphere of influence has had an alcoholic parent or a strained relationship with one.
July 16, 2011
Books like
Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me: A Memoir. . . of Sorts
are the reason I love the Good Reads First Reads program so much. It's unlikely I would have picked this up if I hadn't received my free copy but it ended up being a surprisingly touching book.
The synopsis at IndieBound reads: “An autobiography of Ian Morgan Cron, a clergyman in the Episcopal Church,” which is about as inaccurate as a synopsis can get while remaining technically accurate. Based on this description, the blurb on the back of the book and the title, I thought I was going to be reading about a CIA agent and his son's religious journey. While both of those things made an appearance, they mainly served as background for the actual story, which revolved around the struggles of Mr. Cron's childhood.
His father was indeed in the CIA, but the more relevant fact was that his father was a drunk. And not the amusing, jovial kind of drunk. He was a pass out on the floor at noon on a Tuesday kind of drunk, get violent with his kids while he was drinking kind of drunk and altogether mostly a dick drunk.
Mr. Cron struggled with his father's disease and made a wide variety of attempts to earn his father's favor. First, he tried to get attention through acting out, then through becoming an overachiever. Thankfully he realized relatively early on that he was simply not on his father's radar and there was nothing he could do.
I found the writing to be very fluid, if a bit simple. This was definitely a fast, straight forward read and the author got right to telling the story and stayed on a mostly linear path. There were a few passages that stuck out to me and that I could really relate to, such as his description of how different authors can affect you differently:
That said, I did have a few issues with the way it was written. First, there seemed to be an awful lot of pop culture jokes / references thrown in that were kind of jarring. I read another review that referred to some of them as dated, which I didn't find to be the case – but they were certainly references that will feel dated in 5 years. I felt that these references mostly fell a little flat and really just served to shorten the shelf life of the book.
Based on the title of the book and what I'd read about it, I expected the spiritual journey to factor much more heavily into the story. Really though, the book basically noted that he attended a youth group in high school and become involved in the church later in life and then the last chapter got into some details about his beginnings with the church. There were a few other references here and there to growing up as a Catholic and his evolving feelings about faith but they were really few and far between.
That said – I was actually really glad that it didn't focus heavily on his religious journey. I am a non-believer myself but, having grown up in the Catholic church, I do have have some interest in learning about other people's relationships to God and how they got there. I was glad that the religious aspect didn't play a very large role at all but I do feel that the title misrepresented that a bit. If someone is looking for a read that focuses on religion, this is not going to be it. There should probably be some reference in the title to the strong focus on alcoholism because I think there's an audience there who would really enjoy this book if they realized that it delved so deeply into the life of the child of an alcoholic.
Overall I am definitely glad I read this book and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to a friend. I found Cron to write with a kind, honest and insightful voice.
The synopsis at IndieBound reads: “An autobiography of Ian Morgan Cron, a clergyman in the Episcopal Church,” which is about as inaccurate as a synopsis can get while remaining technically accurate. Based on this description, the blurb on the back of the book and the title, I thought I was going to be reading about a CIA agent and his son's religious journey. While both of those things made an appearance, they mainly served as background for the actual story, which revolved around the struggles of Mr. Cron's childhood.
His father was indeed in the CIA, but the more relevant fact was that his father was a drunk. And not the amusing, jovial kind of drunk. He was a pass out on the floor at noon on a Tuesday kind of drunk, get violent with his kids while he was drinking kind of drunk and altogether mostly a dick drunk.
Mr. Cron struggled with his father's disease and made a wide variety of attempts to earn his father's favor. First, he tried to get attention through acting out, then through becoming an overachiever. Thankfully he realized relatively early on that he was simply not on his father's radar and there was nothing he could do.
I found the writing to be very fluid, if a bit simple. This was definitely a fast, straight forward read and the author got right to telling the story and stayed on a mostly linear path. There were a few passages that stuck out to me and that I could really relate to, such as his description of how different authors can affect you differently:
Some authors were like boxers. They took me down slow, landing one left hook after another one inch under my rib cage. Other writers were more precise, like surgeons, cutting through flesh and bone until I was laid bare to myself.
That said, I did have a few issues with the way it was written. First, there seemed to be an awful lot of pop culture jokes / references thrown in that were kind of jarring. I read another review that referred to some of them as dated, which I didn't find to be the case – but they were certainly references that will feel dated in 5 years. I felt that these references mostly fell a little flat and really just served to shorten the shelf life of the book.
Based on the title of the book and what I'd read about it, I expected the spiritual journey to factor much more heavily into the story. Really though, the book basically noted that he attended a youth group in high school and become involved in the church later in life and then the last chapter got into some details about his beginnings with the church. There were a few other references here and there to growing up as a Catholic and his evolving feelings about faith but they were really few and far between.
That said – I was actually really glad that it didn't focus heavily on his religious journey. I am a non-believer myself but, having grown up in the Catholic church, I do have have some interest in learning about other people's relationships to God and how they got there. I was glad that the religious aspect didn't play a very large role at all but I do feel that the title misrepresented that a bit. If someone is looking for a read that focuses on religion, this is not going to be it. There should probably be some reference in the title to the strong focus on alcoholism because I think there's an audience there who would really enjoy this book if they realized that it delved so deeply into the life of the child of an alcoholic.
Overall I am definitely glad I read this book and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend it to a friend. I found Cron to write with a kind, honest and insightful voice.
December 20, 2011
I was predisposed to think Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me by Ian Morgan Cron would be great. It was recommended to me by friends, coworkers, a vicar’s wife I met on retreat, even the editor who asked me to review it for Relevant Magazine's year-end best-of-2011 list. I picked up a humidity-soaked copy at the Wild Goose Festival in North Carolina in June, where the euphoria surrounding the book was palpable.
I normally resist such mania. Anything that gets that many people so quickly in a lather must be putting something in their drinks first. That may be why I put off reading the book for six months. But it turns out everyone was right. Cron's book is a good memoir that, in the final fifty pages, turns great.
Memoir is a tricky thing to write, trickier than it appears on the surface. You would think that anyone could do it; it seems like simply putting words to paper to tell the story of your life. Cron's memoir covers nearly half a century of life as he's known it, from his Irish Catholic childhood that splits time between Great Britain and New England, during which (no spoiler alert; it's in the book title) his dad works secretly for the CIA. His dad is also an alcoholic with diagnosed Narcissistic Personality Disorder that quickly caught up with his professional life and wreaked havoc on his home life. Plenty of grist for a sensational story, and to write a memoir based on it, given the zeitgeist, seems like a no-brainer.
Ah, but while anyone can write down their story, it takes talent to write a memoir, to tell an intensely personal story that not only compels the reader forward without losing his or her interest (the line between personal and arcane is as fine as it is unforgiving) but universalizes the themes so that the readers can find themselves, and something beyond themselves, in the telling. This is the feat that Cron accomplishes, moving generally effortlessly between the ethereal and the earthy, the sublime and the silly, all in service to the task of finding a path to true--a spiritual and emotional equilibrium that, for the person, approaches a reconciled self.
The book isn't perfect; Cron wears his fondness for (and debt to) writer and radio personality Jean Shepherd on his sleeve. Shepherd is a featured player in one of Cron's moments of epiphany, who was listening to Shepherd's radio program the night he told the story of a childhood friend whose tongue was frozen to a wintry flagpole. That scene was immortalized in Shepherd's short-story-turned-film A Christmas Story. It was Christmastime as I read Cron's book, and I had visited the house featured in the film A Christmas Story earlier in the year, so I may have been especially attuned to the writing style that Cron clearly emulates. But it's not a bad style to emulate, and besides, Cron's a good writer, so it's a generally pleasant homage.
One of the major themes of the book is the Eucharist, which figures prominently in Cron's childhood story and comes full circle when he, as an Episcopal priest, celebrates the mass at the end of the book. The Eucharist is a sacrament, a dispensation of grace, something that every memoir ought to aspire to, in my opinion, and something that Cron manages to achieve here. He mixes humor and sadness like bread and wine, yielding a conversion narrative that rings true in ways that only emerge from the commingling of suffering and faith, of the altar and the therapist's couch, of the body and blood of Christ. We join Cron in his search for a safe home, a caring father, redemption from a deeply scarred past, even though his story is entirely unique; it is in fact through his unique story that his readers are graced with a fundamental truth of the universe: love always stoops, and faith always jumps.
I normally resist such mania. Anything that gets that many people so quickly in a lather must be putting something in their drinks first. That may be why I put off reading the book for six months. But it turns out everyone was right. Cron's book is a good memoir that, in the final fifty pages, turns great.
Memoir is a tricky thing to write, trickier than it appears on the surface. You would think that anyone could do it; it seems like simply putting words to paper to tell the story of your life. Cron's memoir covers nearly half a century of life as he's known it, from his Irish Catholic childhood that splits time between Great Britain and New England, during which (no spoiler alert; it's in the book title) his dad works secretly for the CIA. His dad is also an alcoholic with diagnosed Narcissistic Personality Disorder that quickly caught up with his professional life and wreaked havoc on his home life. Plenty of grist for a sensational story, and to write a memoir based on it, given the zeitgeist, seems like a no-brainer.
Ah, but while anyone can write down their story, it takes talent to write a memoir, to tell an intensely personal story that not only compels the reader forward without losing his or her interest (the line between personal and arcane is as fine as it is unforgiving) but universalizes the themes so that the readers can find themselves, and something beyond themselves, in the telling. This is the feat that Cron accomplishes, moving generally effortlessly between the ethereal and the earthy, the sublime and the silly, all in service to the task of finding a path to true--a spiritual and emotional equilibrium that, for the person, approaches a reconciled self.
The book isn't perfect; Cron wears his fondness for (and debt to) writer and radio personality Jean Shepherd on his sleeve. Shepherd is a featured player in one of Cron's moments of epiphany, who was listening to Shepherd's radio program the night he told the story of a childhood friend whose tongue was frozen to a wintry flagpole. That scene was immortalized in Shepherd's short-story-turned-film A Christmas Story. It was Christmastime as I read Cron's book, and I had visited the house featured in the film A Christmas Story earlier in the year, so I may have been especially attuned to the writing style that Cron clearly emulates. But it's not a bad style to emulate, and besides, Cron's a good writer, so it's a generally pleasant homage.
One of the major themes of the book is the Eucharist, which figures prominently in Cron's childhood story and comes full circle when he, as an Episcopal priest, celebrates the mass at the end of the book. The Eucharist is a sacrament, a dispensation of grace, something that every memoir ought to aspire to, in my opinion, and something that Cron manages to achieve here. He mixes humor and sadness like bread and wine, yielding a conversion narrative that rings true in ways that only emerge from the commingling of suffering and faith, of the altar and the therapist's couch, of the body and blood of Christ. We join Cron in his search for a safe home, a caring father, redemption from a deeply scarred past, even though his story is entirely unique; it is in fact through his unique story that his readers are graced with a fundamental truth of the universe: love always stoops, and faith always jumps.
December 29, 2016
While I definitely felt there was a worth-while narrative being told, I didn't find much cohesion among the different elements that made up the narrative. While the author/narrator is very direct in letting the reader know the effect his father had on him (for better or worse), he never seemed to make an adequate comparison to his actions and his father's influence on those actions. Each chapter would tell a story from Ian's life, but very rarely would there be the corollary the title and premise of the book promises. Each chapter seems to be "This is a time where I screwed up or where something went wrong, and it's my father's fault"; aside from the few chapters where Ian's father is directly involved in the story being told, we have no real connection between these events and his father. His father is a constant presence in the story, but as a reader we are never presented many solid facts as to why something is happening. The narrator presents it as a given, and this being a memoir (of sorts) that makes sense, but it limits the empathy we can give the character.
His religious epiphanies also seem to fall flat because of this. Because he never illuminates the day to day struggle with his father, only the impact that this struggle had on him, his conversion (or reversion) to faith doesn't seem as dramatic to the reader as it must have felt for Ian.
And while this is more of a personal preference, I feel that expounding on his father's connection to the CIA would have helped to illustrate his father's double life and aided in remedying the points I raised previously. But since the job at the CIA never takes on a large role in the narrative other than helping identify the type of man Ian's father is, I feel it's a wasted clarification. It could have been a huge aid in helping understand the situation, but was squandered.
I also have a problem with the copious amounts of pop culture references in the memoir, most used as analogies. It dates the book and will make it more difficult to understand in the not-too-distant future. While I understand the references now, someone in ten to fifteen years may not. I do not think many of them are as timeless as the author believes.
One exceptional standout of the memoir, however, is the chapter on the family trip to the quarry. It is a well told story, and the message being impressed is told subtly but very effectively. It fits well within it's context, and it's meaning is very much understood without much grandstanding or monologuing. It fits well, and was the most enjoyable part of the book for me.
Overall the memoir is well-written, but failed to get me to empathize with the main character in an effective way. It reads more as an over-long witness at a church rally or retreat, but that message suffers because of that. Amputated from the emotion of that context, it's a book that fails to capitalize on the depth and emotion of it's main conflict, and the overall story and message being told suffers because of this.
His religious epiphanies also seem to fall flat because of this. Because he never illuminates the day to day struggle with his father, only the impact that this struggle had on him, his conversion (or reversion) to faith doesn't seem as dramatic to the reader as it must have felt for Ian.
And while this is more of a personal preference, I feel that expounding on his father's connection to the CIA would have helped to illustrate his father's double life and aided in remedying the points I raised previously. But since the job at the CIA never takes on a large role in the narrative other than helping identify the type of man Ian's father is, I feel it's a wasted clarification. It could have been a huge aid in helping understand the situation, but was squandered.
I also have a problem with the copious amounts of pop culture references in the memoir, most used as analogies. It dates the book and will make it more difficult to understand in the not-too-distant future. While I understand the references now, someone in ten to fifteen years may not. I do not think many of them are as timeless as the author believes.
One exceptional standout of the memoir, however, is the chapter on the family trip to the quarry. It is a well told story, and the message being impressed is told subtly but very effectively. It fits well within it's context, and it's meaning is very much understood without much grandstanding or monologuing. It fits well, and was the most enjoyable part of the book for me.
Overall the memoir is well-written, but failed to get me to empathize with the main character in an effective way. It reads more as an over-long witness at a church rally or retreat, but that message suffers because of that. Amputated from the emotion of that context, it's a book that fails to capitalize on the depth and emotion of it's main conflict, and the overall story and message being told suffers because of this.
December 19, 2021
While Ian and I come from different places on the socioeconomic scale we share a relatable story of struggles with our faith and family. His challenges with an alcoholic father (mine isn't) gave him a lot of emotional insecurity and that resonates with me. His ever-changing relationship to his faith and the power it eventually instilled is a great encouragement, since we all must walk different paths to find the full strength of Jesus. The last couple of pages where he conveys the story of carrying the Communion wafer in his pocket was an incredible revelation and truly served as a final payoff in a book full of meaningful nuggets.
April 11, 2022
This book is both utterly human yet deeply sacred. This book is of a boy at the hands of an alcoholic and abusive father; a shadow chasing the once gleaming past of family fortune; a husband and father who is haunted with a life he never got to live; and a man of God who has learned to love and forgive against unspeakable anguish. The book is so true and genuine, that if one does not revere God, one may revere the change that can be made in His faith. The tears from reading this book comes from a well far deeper than those of the desert, and its sacredness comes from speaking plain the misery and dirt men go through in the pursuit of short life.
September 9, 2012
This author is quite a storyteller. I think I felt every emotion known to mankind while reading this book. I loved the sense of humor shown throughout the book and thank God for it because without it, it could have been a real downer. There were times I wanted to cry, times I felt angry (I think mean spirited kids are dispicable) and times I wanted to applaud someone for his or her role in this man's life. I will definitely read other books by this author.
July 11, 2021
I loved reading this book and particularly reading it knowing that Ian is a 4 on the enneagram. His words and ways of speaking his feelings are beautiful and lovely and inviting. I laughed in his book and I also cried in this book. There is a message of hope written in it; that things are not always destined to be how they seem. But that with the Lord’s nearness and the love of those around you, stories can be both hard and complicated yet honored and sacred.
Read
January 19, 2018Ian Cron owes me a new pen. I nearly ran one dry underlining his clever voice that fully allowed me to visualize his words and nod as I read them.
I apologize in advance as I will be using (stealing) many of the phrases he coined in this book. His word play, puns, metaphors, and similes are outstanding and deserve to be retold.
Well done, Ian.
I apologize in advance as I will be using (stealing) many of the phrases he coined in this book. His word play, puns, metaphors, and similes are outstanding and deserve to be retold.
Well done, Ian.
May 30, 2020
'home is not just a place; it’s a knowing in the soul, a vague premonition of a far-off country that we know exists but haven’t seen yet.'
•
•
•
I felt this through the whole book. fascinating, heartbreaking, but colourfully and compellingly told.
•
•
•
I felt this through the whole book. fascinating, heartbreaking, but colourfully and compellingly told.
July 16, 2022
3.5 stars
I really appreciate how Ian shares his story in such a compelling and emotional narrative. However, I sometimes had a difficult time with his writing style as he often veered from one memory to another and then back to the original memory. Overall though, it is a good read.
I really appreciate how Ian shares his story in such a compelling and emotional narrative. However, I sometimes had a difficult time with his writing style as he often veered from one memory to another and then back to the original memory. Overall though, it is a good read.
October 31, 2020
I loved this memoir by Ian Cron the Enneagram guy! It was an honest look at his troubling childhood and had so many references to the good old days (1960-70s).
January 23, 2021
I was first introduced to Ian via his enneagram podcast. This book was so like him. Now I have a better understanding for why he’s so wise and gentle.
February 9, 2024
It was fine.
January 2, 2025
Contender for the best book I've read in the past year. Cron is sarcastic and honest and hits on every human thing. High rec.
July 6, 2025
I found this an amusing and interesting memoir, but there was almost nothing about the CIA. If the fact that his father worked on and off for the CIA were left out of the book entirely nothing at all would change about this memoir.
It’s tragically interesting how big an influence the abuse/neglect of his father had on him and how little his relationships with his mother and siblings seemed to matter. Or maybe it’s just that this story was only about how his relationship with his father affected his life.
It’s tragically interesting how big an influence the abuse/neglect of his father had on him and how little his relationships with his mother and siblings seemed to matter. Or maybe it’s just that this story was only about how his relationship with his father affected his life.
March 10, 2017
It was an ok book but I had to really make my self read it ... which defeats my purpose of reading ... Good in the beginning then rather boggy!
June 16, 2011
Lethal Combination: Astute Observations on Life's Poignant and Devastating Moments with a Generous Dollop of Wit and Tenderness
Franz Kafka summed it up well when he said,"I think we ought to read only books that bite and sting us. . . . What we need are books that hit us like a most painful misfortune, like the death of someone we loved more than we love ourselves, that make us feel as though we had been banished to the woods, far from any human presence, like suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is what I believe."
In a nutshell, Ian's book took an axe to the frozen sea within me.
I'd seen Ian's name on the Twitterverse, a couple weeks prior to attending Donald Miller's Storyline Conference in Portland earlier this month. Every year Miller gives away a new book to conference attendees. This year it was Ian's book "Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me." He had a brief Q&A with Ian before giving away his book.
I was convinced that I was going to love this book purely based on this casual Q&A session. I don't know if it was Ian's nerves or just a quirky idiosyncrasy, but he had an endearing habit of putting his hand on the top of his head when he spoke. It made him resemble a fidgety antsy Yenta from the Bronx, in a charming sort of way.
Think: Woody Allen meets Anne Lamott. Ian has an incredible ability to make astute observations on life's poignant and devastating moments with a generous dollop of wit and tenderness. The lethal combination is what did my heart in.
Anne Lamott says, "I try to write the books I would love to come upon, that are honest, concerned with real lives, human hearts, spiritual transformation, families, secrets, wonder, craziness'and that can make me laugh. When I am reading a book like this, I feel rich and profoundly relieved to be in the presence of someone who will share the truth with me, and throw the lights on a little, and I try to write these kinds of books. Books, for me, are medicine."
Ian does exactly that. He shares his truth. He is concerned with real lives, human hearts and spiritual transformation. I had moments that unraveled my heart so deeply that I had to hit pause (audiobook) and (literally) clutch my heart even at the risk of looking like a lunatic on public transit. Not since Donald Miller's book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years has a book wrecked me (in a good way) at *this* scale.
Ian's writing has the incredible ability to take unexpected disarming tears and transition them into cry-giggles a second later. I'm also really looking forward to also reading his first book, "Chasing Francis."
This book helped me identify the golden thread of God's unfinished business of grace in my own life.
I just found out that Ian has been Selected for Barnes & Noble's Discover Great New Writers Program on his blog: [...] Former authors to be selected as part of the B&N program include Cormac McCarthy, Elizabeth Gilbert, Frank McCourt, Barbara Kingsolver, Yann Martel, Alice Sebold, Michael Pollan, Patricia Cornwell, Kathryn Stockett, and Khaled Hosseini.
I can't say I'm surprised.
Franz Kafka summed it up well when he said,"I think we ought to read only books that bite and sting us. . . . What we need are books that hit us like a most painful misfortune, like the death of someone we loved more than we love ourselves, that make us feel as though we had been banished to the woods, far from any human presence, like suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is what I believe."
In a nutshell, Ian's book took an axe to the frozen sea within me.
I'd seen Ian's name on the Twitterverse, a couple weeks prior to attending Donald Miller's Storyline Conference in Portland earlier this month. Every year Miller gives away a new book to conference attendees. This year it was Ian's book "Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me." He had a brief Q&A with Ian before giving away his book.
I was convinced that I was going to love this book purely based on this casual Q&A session. I don't know if it was Ian's nerves or just a quirky idiosyncrasy, but he had an endearing habit of putting his hand on the top of his head when he spoke. It made him resemble a fidgety antsy Yenta from the Bronx, in a charming sort of way.
Think: Woody Allen meets Anne Lamott. Ian has an incredible ability to make astute observations on life's poignant and devastating moments with a generous dollop of wit and tenderness. The lethal combination is what did my heart in.
Anne Lamott says, "I try to write the books I would love to come upon, that are honest, concerned with real lives, human hearts, spiritual transformation, families, secrets, wonder, craziness'and that can make me laugh. When I am reading a book like this, I feel rich and profoundly relieved to be in the presence of someone who will share the truth with me, and throw the lights on a little, and I try to write these kinds of books. Books, for me, are medicine."
Ian does exactly that. He shares his truth. He is concerned with real lives, human hearts and spiritual transformation. I had moments that unraveled my heart so deeply that I had to hit pause (audiobook) and (literally) clutch my heart even at the risk of looking like a lunatic on public transit. Not since Donald Miller's book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years has a book wrecked me (in a good way) at *this* scale.
Ian's writing has the incredible ability to take unexpected disarming tears and transition them into cry-giggles a second later. I'm also really looking forward to also reading his first book, "Chasing Francis."
This book helped me identify the golden thread of God's unfinished business of grace in my own life.
I just found out that Ian has been Selected for Barnes & Noble's Discover Great New Writers Program on his blog: [...] Former authors to be selected as part of the B&N program include Cormac McCarthy, Elizabeth Gilbert, Frank McCourt, Barbara Kingsolver, Yann Martel, Alice Sebold, Michael Pollan, Patricia Cornwell, Kathryn Stockett, and Khaled Hosseini.
I can't say I'm surprised.
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