Have you ever wondered where God is? Do you want a more courageous faith? Are you somebody who desires authentic questions and raw answers?
"God, are you there?" is a near universal cry of the human heart.
We have all longed for God to be tangible. Some might sway to worship music, others go on missions, others fast from food. The universal quest is to feel the divine . . . and yet the divine seems aloof, even shy. In this narrative-driven book, Tony Kriz leads the reader on a journey of "orchestrated epiphanies" along the eternal quest to tangibly encounter God, including the unpredictable moments that give us hope, and even more so, the long gaps between those moments that challenge our faith. Written in an authentic, conversational style, Aloof is easily accessible to those who don't know much about the Bible, yet the message is still theologically informed and culturally relevant. This book will help you process how God acts uniquely towards us, depending upon each stage of life. The chapters include contemporary real-life stories that normalize the experience of an often hidden God, while also aiding the reader to acknowledge the very real moments (rare though they may be) when God has shown up in a tangible way.
Unhappy circumstances set Tony Kriz thinking about the way God hides. His four-year-old nephew, Ransom, was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of liver cancer. Kriz prayed that God would show up and hold Ransom's hand--through treatment and through death. This set his mind thinking on his own journey and the way he has sensed God's hiddenness throughout his life. More accurately, Kriz recounts the way God 'shows up' unexpectedly just beyond his grasp.
This is a memoir of doubt and faith. Kriz recounts how he sensed God's presence when he was a child and said the sinner's prayer to receive Christ. He also tells of how a well-meaning Sunday School teacher caused him doubt that experience. He describes how his growing doubts during his teen years swallowed his child-like-faith whole. When he left for college he had every intention of leaving Jesus behind but God pursued him. So in college his faith deepened through prayer meetings, Bible study, mission trips and joining a fraternity (because God told him). These were the 'dojo years' and he felt the nearness of the Master. But when Kriz went out into the world his faith again became untethered. He threw himself into Christian missions and an activist faith. Kriz reveals that part of his activism was an attempt to get God to notice him. He ends up broken, needy and abandoned. There is one encounter where Jesus came to him in a real way but mostly Kriz felt abandoned and alone. Thankfully this isn't the whole of Kriz's story. He comes back to faith and begins to sense this Hidden One in rest, in waiting, in the shyness of the Spirit, on learning to encounter God on His terms, in community and in all things.
I gave as bare-bones of a sketch as I could. Kriz's story is worth reading for yourself. Kriz has given us a gift of opening up his journey and reflections to us (these reflections were intended first for his nephew Ransom). With searching honesty he traces his tenuous faith from childhood to his forties. With searching honesty he reflects on answers to prayer along the way and experiences of Divine intervention, but he never lets these become easy-proofs of God's Presence.
Kriz's story is much more impressive than mine--both in its highs and lows. Yet I relate to some of the unrequited desire to meet God and to experience him intimately. His uneasy faith and seasons of doubt reminded me of difficult spells in my own walk. Like Kriz, I cannot point to anything in my history that 'proves God' but like him I have come though to a place of strong(er) hope.
This is the second book from Kriz that I read. Neighbors and Wise Men was another memoir that recounted parts of his story and how Kriz was nurtured back to faith through unlikely people. This book is more personal. It is sadder in some respects, but no less hopeful. I highly recommend this book. Five Stars.
Notice of material connection: I received this book from BookLook Bloggers in exchange for my honest review.
Warner Pacific College’s author-in-residence Tony Kriz is such a cool and fascinating guy in real life, I was eager to read his latest book when I spotted it in the Kindle store last year. “Aloof: Figuring Out Life With a God Who Hides” did not disappoint, even as it deals with spiritual disappointment as one of its themes. Kriz wrestles with the notion of a God who does not always reveal Himself to us in tangible ways.
Doubt, skepticism, and a genuine yearning to know God permeate Kriz’s personal reflections on his life, part of the process which he refers to as “narrative spiritual formation.” The purpose of sharing this discipline is to invite the reader to consider their own story and answer these questions:
What do I believe about God’s presence… and God’s absence? Why does God hide from us? Why do I hide from God?
Shallow, formulaic beliefs about prayer and how God works in this world are challenged by stories from Kriz’s own faith journey, often running counter to what he was dutifully taught about how God ought to behave and reveal Himself to seekers. The disappointment of not feeling God tangibly enough, or at all, is a common theme of many of these stories.
Without giving away too much of the book, “Aloof” is, in a narrative sense, examining scenarios in which God may purposely be hiding Himself from us according to our seasons of life and stages of faith. The stories range from painfully candid (It’s heartbreaking to read about the reactions of well-meaning adults in response to his perceived childhood encounter with God, and especially later, when a teenage Kriz tragically feels compelled to publically lie and share what he THINKS his church wants to hear about God’s indisputable presence after a mission trip to Ecuador)…
…To heart racingly inspirational (His harrowing incidents in the Philippines and also at the Albanian Greek embassy both left me thinking, ‘Wow, Tony… next time, lead with THAT!’). It’s refreshing that none of his anecdotes neither assume nor dispute God’s participation in the events of his life. There’s no magic “if this, then that” assertion of how God reveals Himself. The tension between doubt and faith is highlighted and engaged, rather than dismissed and explained away with pat answers.
Kriz scores bonus Garth points for using the archetypal superhero’s journey as a parallel to suggest how we may benefit and grow from God’s “suspicious presence,” even when God seems to deny us any awareness of it. On a personal note, however, one specific facet of Kriz’ superhero analogy offended me on two different levels. But I couldn’t reasonably expect everyone’s Christology to line up neatly behind my own admittedly subjective and ever-evolving theological understandings.
Verdict: Highly recommended for all open-minded readers. This is a compelling, authentic read about the complexities of experience, doubt, and faith which refuses to reduce a relationship with God to simplistic formulas or comforting human relationship analogies.
Tony Kriz tackles the elephant in the room many of us have skirted around at some stage, especially in Christian company. If God is all powerful, loves us so deeply, and has proven Himself to be an apt communicator, why does He seem to hide from us most of the time? Kriz describes the futility he's grown up feeling, while other, apparently more 'super' Christians talk at length about their supernatural encounters with God, making him wonder, 'What's the problem with me then?' He even became a missionary and God still seemed to be too busy with others to bother with him. He is honest in admitting his tendency to pretend that God is closer than he actually felt Him to be; such as the time as a teen, when the pastor invited him up on stage to share the amazing insights he received on his mission trip.
He describes his personal experiences. Children brought up in the Christian faith may subtly learn accepted ways of talking about God from 'religious' people. He searched for what he called the 'super faith serum' he hoped would charge up his relationship with God, following every lead he could. After hours of Bible study, prayer, retreats, outreaches, and prayers for extra blessings from mighty warriors, the magical elixir still seemed to elude him. What can you do then? Tony Kriz decided to walk away, no longer bothering to try getting close to God anymore, as it seemed to get him nowhere. Parts 2 and 3 of the book explain how he unexpectedly ended up back in God's fold.
The thoughts he puts forward for us to ponder are interesting. It's clearly for the earth's own good that the sun's distance is maintained. Could it be similar with us and God? We may say we long to get closer to God, but who wants to be an Icarus, getting his wings burned? Do we really want mountain top encounters and Shekinah moments, such as people like Moses, Isaiah, Paul, Peter, James and John experienced? There were often serious repercussions for those who got up that close and personal, so maybe God is honouring our deeper selves who appreciate the distance, even though we don't know it.
There are several stories about coincidental moments and times in which God came through, although He skirted the 5 senses. Altogether, it's an honest and thought-provoking read, packed with ideas to make us reconsider the way God relates to human beings.
Thanks to Net Galley and Thomas Nelson for my review copy.
In Aloof, Tony comes beside those of us with big questions and doubts and says, "Me too". If you are looking for perfect, sanitized stories of people who make all the right choices or who never waver in the face of tragedy, this is not the book for you. If you gain strength by stories of others who search for God and sometimes still feel like the kid who is loosing at hide and seek, this book will encourage you that you do not search alone.
At first Aloof made me uncomfortable. I kept waiting for Tony to get to the happy ending and reassure me that everything was going to work out. But Aloof isn't about happy endings and inspirational quotes. Tony is a community pastor who gives eulogies for high schoolers and encourages disillusioned pastors. He has found a way to find glimpses of the Divine in the hardships of real life, happy endings or not.
[Disclaimer: I was provided a reader's copy of Aloof through the Thomas Nelson BookLook Blogger program. I was not compensated for my review and I was not asked to write a positive review. My review is only to be fair and unbiased. And so it is.]
See also: The Parish Collective
I'm gonna be honest when I say that I really have no idea how I feel about this book. Kriz is about the same age as I am and, based on some of his anecdotes, has had some similar experiences in church and life as I have; although, while he seems to have grasped a theoretical atheism at some point in his life, I think I grasped a more practical atheism at some point. I don't say that lightly about myself because making such a confession might cast a negative light upon Jesus and I am not about that at all. As Kriz makes clear, this was more about himself than it was about God. Maybe what Kriz experienced was a practiced atheism and mine was simply an indifference towards God. I base that conclusion on the way I chose to conduct myself for a number of years after an incredibly difficult season of ministry that ended with my leaving local church ministry altogether and having no church home for the better part of 3 years. I'm not sure.
Whatever the case, Kriz belongs to an imaginary group of writers that I try really hard to understand and appreciate. Yet for some reason I cannot seem to fully do so. I say that in no small part because I have lived many of their experiences, I have suffered just as much if not more, I have wrestled equally with my doubts and fears, but for some reason I continue to wait upon the relief and peace they seem to have found after so many years of the same--a sort of rest and peace about where God has led me and a certain uncertainty about where the path may lead in the future. You can read that for what you want: jealousy? my own unresolved angst? my own sense of lostness--being 40something and caught between two generations and feeling the (sometimes misguided) compulsion to correct the generation that brought us up and the (equally strained) need to train up another generation correctly so they avoid all the missteps we have made? It's all so much a burden that people my age sense. Maybe the problem is that I see too much of myself in Kriz's book and I'm uncomfortable staring in that mirror too long.
All that aside, I will confess that I was immediately turned off when I opened the book and before I read anything else I was confronted with 6 pages worth of 'Praise for Aloof.' I'm all about praise and accolades for well written books, but 6 pages? Seems like overkill to me. OK. That's a small thing, but it's a thing nonetheless. If the book is good, slay with me with a couple of quotes and let it go. I'll find out for myself after I have read it.
So here's how this book went for me: By the time I arrived at page 96 I was still marking in the margins something like, "I'm still not sure what I'm reading about..." By the time I finished page 104, I was thinking, "Oh, another book by a well traveled, angst ridden, spoiled brat." I mean, seriously, by then I had read about his trips to the Philippines, to Bangkok, to Albania, and someplace in South America. It gets a bit tricky keeping track of the itinerary. He tries to help a few pages later, "Across the world, these buccaneer maps led up to places as exotic as the capital cities of the Middle East or as provincial as forgotten villages in Albania's rugged frontier. The destinations were always unexpected. The maps might even lead to the second floor of a Greek embassy" (111-112). Here I'll own my jealousy because God's buccaneer map for my life hasn't moved me beyond the tri-state area of Ohio, West Virginia, and Michigan. I probably couldn't eat the food in those places anyhow. Maybe God has spoken to me after all.
But I still wonder why so many of these author who write these books feel so compelled to share all their travels to exotic places us mere mortals only dream in dreams we have in our dreams? I'd settle for a month long retreat at Lake Erie let alone the Cascades (p 144).
The first three parts of the book, and the fourth part to an extent, read like an autobiography of how a person came to something that might be called 'genuine faith.' I'm not sure what that means because the way he writes about his struggles only led me to believe he was never far off from God anyhow and I'm not sure that Kriz would use the word 'genuine' to describe where he ends the book because in his mind his faith was always genuine. So take that with a grain of salt. Or perhaps his quotation from A Grief Observed at the head of chapter 1 should have tipped me off as to the nature of the book. Kriz watched his nephew succumb to an inoperable tumor much like CS Lewis watched his wife also succumb to cancer. Maybe this is Kriz's version of A Grief Observed for another generation. Maybe it's both.
I didn't really 'get' the book until part 4 when Kriz started to think more 'theologically' about his story. The first three sections were too autobiographical for me because until I read this book I had never even heard of Tony Kriz. So his grief observed seemed too distant and I wasn't really able to attach myself to it quite the way I did when I first read Lewis' story (because I had read several other of Lewis' books by then). I wish it were different, but it's not. I'm not sure that's necessarily an indictment of the book as much as I think it might be a limitation to those Kriz may wish to read this story. Those who know him will undoubtedly be touched. Those who do not know him might not. I wasn't. I was simply unable to attach myself emotionally to this story--even though I share many of Kriz's experiences up to, and including, watching a loved member of my family succumb to a brain tumor at the age of 30, being terminated from a ministry position, near destitution, and wandering in and out of serious conversations with God for a long while.
Part 4, then, 'Reanimation', is the part I like the best because it was the only part of the book that left me with any hope. I speak for myself here and not a single other person who may read this book. I remember preaching a deep series of sermons one year--about a year or two before being asked to resign my ministry. The series was all about suffering for Jesus--something I took seriously when I was safely behind a pulpit; something I failed at miserably when I had to regroup after my security went to someone else. I went through all the hows and whys and questions about what I did or didn't do and second guessing and angry diatribes at God and shaking my fist and weeping and quoting Job and trusting and faithlessness--I went through it all. It's a lonely time when God is gone or feels gone and one just wants Jesus to hold them. It's a lonely thing to feel abandoned by the only person in the universe we thought would never, ever fail us or leave us or forsake us. It's a terrible thing to feel so forsaken. It's difficult to see clearly when blinded by so much anger, bitterness, and weeping. Tears cleanse and blind.
In the fourth part of the book, I think Kriz does a yeoman's work (I know that's a bit antiquated) bringing home all the angst and turmoil of the first three parts and showing, however quickly, that God isn't so quiet as we sometimes think him to be. And like Kriz, "...slowly I am learning to more fully submit..." (193). Which is another thing very difficult to do.
I come full circle and confess that I'm not sure what to do with this book. I relate to it in many ways; it aggravates me in a number of other ways. The main question for me is this: Does the value I find in the four part of the book outweigh the struggle I had with the first three parts of the book? Can the weight of hope vanquish the weight of despair, the angst of God's hiddenness? The short answer is...yes. I say yes because, if the truth be told, the first three sections can be the story of any person who reads the book. Change the names, change the places, change a little of this or that and what one ends up with his their own story. And all of us need the fourth part, the hope part, the part where the scales fall from our eyes and we experience the full weight of God's presence in 'ten-thousand places.' Why? Because we all go through these things in life, because all of us have our own buccaneer map we are called to follow. And if I am honest with myself and those who read this review, then I have to confess that I have squandered most of the grace God has poured out on my life and then I have turned around and shook my fist at him wondering where he was or why he didn't give me more, more, more!
That's not God's fault; that's mine. Learning to own that is a long struggle.
In the end, I think Tony Kriz tells the truth: God hides, but that doesn't mean he is not there. Those who have eyes to see and ears to hear will do those very things. In the end I agree with Kriz that God has 'created a system of mostly silence' (218). There are times when God does speaks with deafening volume, as through a megaphone and yet as a whisper in the midst of a storm. We do well to tune our ears.
This is a helpful book that many people will enjoy. They might struggle a wee bit through the first three sections of the book, but for the hope that is found in the fourth section, I think the struggle is worth the effort.
4.5/5
PS--I enjoyed very much the illustrations by Jonathan Case. They were a great addition to the work and complimented the writing well. They were neither an intrusion nor unnecessary but rather well placed and well done.
“Quiet and numb, I would try to pray, but the only words I could muster were, ‘I choose to believe you exist today. I choose to believe you exist today. I choose to believe you exist today. I choose to believe you exist today.’”
Life is full of questions. Why do bad things happen to good people? Where is God when it hurts? Why does God seem so distant when things get difficult? Why is God so aloof?
I first heard of Tony Kriz when I worked at a Christian college in Oregon. Tony spoke at a chapel on campus and I was amazed at his openness and sincerity. I picked up his first book, Neighbors and Wise Men, and it was refreshing to hear about some frank, authentic, doubt-filled faith. When I was alerted that Tony wrote another book, I knew I had to read it.
Aloof is full of stories; stories of faithfulness and doubt, stories of joy and pain, stories of clarity and confusion. Tony does not try to wrap things up in pretty, little packages. He will unleash a doubt or uncertainty and let it hang there. Sometimes working through the confusion is more important that finding a solution. Being a follower of Christ is not about having an answer to every single question or doubt.
I love Tony’s analogy concerning a childlike faith versus a mature faith. When you are a child, you see your parents nearly every day. When you are an adult, you see your parents very irregularly. However, when you are an adult you know more about your parents than you did as a child. Perhaps, God works with me the same way.
This is a good book. Anyone who has struggled with doubt will relate to this book. I can relate to this book. Many Christian authors may try to give you seven steps towards a stronger faith. Tony, on the other hand, just says, “I choose to believe you exist today.”
I love Tony Kriz and Aloof is simply fantastic. His book Neighbors and Wisemen was my favorite book of the year it was released and though I was late to getting Aloof, this one ranks up there as one of my favorite book of this year.
I totally resonate with the idea of a hidden God and Tony does a masterful job of sharing his experience and challenging us how to see and understand a hidden God. If you've ever wonder where God was in your life at different moments, I highly recommend picking his book up and giving it a read.
Have you struggled with God seeming far away? Are we really meant to meander through life with little or no contact with the God we supposedly follow? Author and speaker Tony Kriz takes readers on a journey to explore questions like these. I’d have to say it’s a journey worth taking with Tony.
I am proud to say I went to seminary with Tony Kriz. Tony has a unique writing style, which I envy. He calls it a spiritual memoir. He reminisces through a lifetime of spiritual memories and identifies the formative effect they had on his spiritual beliefs. In fact, Tony encourages the reader to evaluate his stories as practice for evaluating their own.
Aloof is not a book of pat answers. Tony raises more questions than he answers. It’s normal to have questions, doubts, and struggles in our faith life and Tony embraces the dissonance better than anyone I know. He values “spiritual conversations” where people can share their faith stories.
Tony’s stories are real, raw, and vulnerable. I found myself rooting for him along the way. But I also found his stories disturbing because they conjured up memories of my own stories—those raw, unedited moments in my spiritual development. It was disturbing because it forced me to confront my own experiences and evaluate whether I’ve been honest about the spiritual dissonance in my life or whether I settle for the pre-packaged answers of a Christian heritage. Now I want to unpack my newly discovered box of spiritual memories. One by one, I want to let my spiritual memories see the light of day so I can see my memories with all their blemishes and stains. Aloof is going to have a long-lasting impact on my life.
The one caution I would offer readers (because I know Tony already has a grasp on this) has to do with the possibility of letting our experiences dictate our beliefs above the Bible. The truth of the Bible is always going to be more reliable than personal experiences. Any difference between the Bible and our experience is merely one of those areas of dissonance Tony urges us to explore rather than push aside.
I applaud Tony Kriz for sharing his most vulnerable spiritual experiences with unvarnished realism. The Christian community has rarely been willing to embrace the messy process most of us experience in trying to follow God. They want answers that fit in orderly cubby holes or 3-point outlines.
Tony teaches us, by example, to see the power of story—our testimonies—in shaping our lives and dialogues. We need many more discussions along these lines. Thanks, Tony.
In his new book Aloof, author Tony Kriz takes us on the journey of “finding a God who hides” with transparent and personal stories interweaved with great quotes, poetry, and intriguing artwork provided by artist Jonathan Case.
Right away, I knew I was going to love the book. I could relate with the raw honesty of Tony’s writing style, thoughts and questions that many of us (if we were honest) have asked ourselves:
“What are we to do with a companion who hides?”
“There are long stretches where he is wholly silent and at least a few moments where he is as loud as a hangover.”
“Sometimes I wonder if this someone, the person that this book is about, actually exists.”
Tony talks about the struggle of performing busy Christian duties in the hopes of getting God’s attention. Our exhausting business often results in a God that must be “to busy to bother” with us. This aloofness, he says, is “leading to an unprecedented exodus out of churches . . . It is causing faith famine.”
He makes sure to point out that many have acquired a skewed theology along the way – perhaps maybe it’s not God who is standing at a distance. “There is an over obsession with seeing the ways of God in terms of people just like me . . . no matter how much interpretative gymnastics those beliefs require,” he suggests. In fact, he even points out that many of us are probably quite content with God being silent and not interrupting our world and plans.
This book was filled with quippy stories about growing up evangelical and solving a crisis of faith through missions trips and seminary. While I can think of quite a few of my friends and acquaintances who would enjoy this book, I just never connected. Perhaps it was the constant references to our faith in terms of superheroes; or perhaps it was Kriz’s romanticization of God showing up through buccaneer maps and mercenary images. (I believe more in a God of restoration rather than a God who conquers.) I struggled too much to connect with these images.
I also wished for more reconciliation. More than three-fourths of the book was dedicated to stories of how God and the church failed Kriz’s expectations. He would end each chapter with a one-sentence epiphany and the last few chapters were devoted to how he has now realized that God’s silence does not equal abandonment. However, I wished the book focused more on that hopeful side of his relationship with God and less on the ways in which he had been hurt. I left me feeling a bit depressed and hoping that Kriz continues to have these epiphanies of how God is actually showing up in his life.
**I received this book free from the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion.**
Tony's story is close to home. Not only do we live in the same city (get it, close to home?) but the journey he shares in Aloof shares many similarities to the one I've walked. This book is full of captivating stories and enlightening insights. Tony writes with candor, grace, and wisdom. Aloof is an exciting read because it follows a quasi-monomyth pattern. Kriz kindly shows how his story parallels many of our stories and how none of us are quite there yet.
Here's one of my favorite quotes "I am sure the Spirit is able to speak, however the actual words are few, shockingly few... If the Spirit is quiet and shy through the pages of my Bible, then why would I expect this introvert to suddenly start rambling on to me like a tipsy busybody? Maybe this is the very heart of my problem. Have I falsely married God's tangibility with God's presence? Have I falsely conflated 'God's speaking' with God's companionship? The Holy Spirit may be the Bible's perfect example of a faithful but silent escort. What would it look like to rest in the Spirit's ever-presence as such? What if I expressed my gratitude for the Spirit's companionship even without tangible evidence? That kind of sounds like faith, doesn't it?" p. 180
Like a modern day, St. John of the Cross, Tony Kriz has poured out for his readers some of the "darkest nights" of his soul in his latest book, "Aloof." One is quickly drawn in by Tony's frank recollections and willingness to enter the questions that many of us may never attempt to ask. In 226 pages, Tony knocks his readers off the pedestals that a cluttered religious experience can create. Proceeds to take a jack-hammer to those pedestals. And finally, digs a hole for his readers where they too can join Tony in the struggle to emerge from their questions about an aloof God. I warn you - this book will probably not leave you comfortable, or feeling like you have figured out your life with a God who hides. Rather, it left me facing my own insanities, painful memories, and boxed-up life. Our response should be to thank Tony for willingly baring his soul - allowing us to get a glimpse of the God in whom we truly long.
Kriz began reviewing his own spiritual experiences as they related to feeling the presence of God when his nephew was suffering from cancer. He wanted God to be very present for the youngster. This book is an exploration of narrative spiritual formation, that is, reviewing one's experiences and stories with a view to belief. Kriz is very honest in his experiences, both his God encounters and the periods of silence. While I am part of an older generation who do not consider our personal spiritual experiences something upon which to base truth, a younger generation might see greater significance in experience. See my complete review at http://bit.ly/1BJceAI. I received a complimentary egalley of this book from the publisher for the purpose of an independent and honest review.
This book made me think about a lot of things that Christian culture tends to gloss over. I don't know that I agree with all the theology, but that's not the point. This is a refreshing perspective on God's personality and how we interact with him - and why sometimes it feels like he's absent.
I had a hard time putting this book down. It's an easy read, simply and clearly laid out, but packs a lot of depth and refreshing honesty. I am recommending this to my friends, and I want to read this book again at least a few more times!
I loved this book. Maybe that's partially because I read it during a time when I've been trying to hear God's voice and have been frustrated by what often feels like crickets chirping from the heavens. So I could relate to Kriz's experiences and reflections. But my appreciation for the book goes beyond that. It's well-written, blending significant life experiences and sober questions with quiet, careful exploration.
If you are reading this review, then you should read this book. You won't regret it.
Better than his first book - which was foundational to me
Tony's first book was foundational to an awakening in me. This book like that one, was so well written that I felt like each morning with one chapter he and I were having conversations. I was sad to finish because I felt like I was loosing a mentor, a guide, even (forgive the sap) a friend. Tony's writing and experiences have become for me in a sense a shared pathway - he has helped me see God in these pages and guided me to love him all the more.
Tony Kriz articulates his experiences of God’s aloofness so the rest of us can find the language and freedom to articulate our own. Like our best poets, prophets, and mystics, he looks into the darkness and tells us what he sees—and what he doesn’t. The result is a searingly honest but ultimately hopeful book about a "God who hides" but then is occasionally, suddenly, briefly, mysteriously, and wonderfully there.
There is so much about this book that I love. The author shared about experiences in his life that so many can relate to. This is not superficial in the least. Readers can find hope and encouragement from these stories.
This book, in a nutshell, from the intro - "Is this a book about God's absence or a book about God's presence? I believe the answer to that either-or question is yes. It is an exploration of God's hiddenness, through a discussion of God's occasionally suspicious presence." So grateful for this one.