”It don't feel right, but it's not wrong.
It's just hard to start again this far along.
Brick by brick, the letting go,
As you walk away from everything you know
When you release resistance
And you lean into the wind,
Till the roof begins to crumble,
And the rain comes pourin' in,
And you sit there in the rubble,
Till the rubble feels like home
That's how you learn to live alone
That's how you learn to live alone
That's how you learn to live alone”
How You Learn to Live Alone , Jonathan Jackson, Songwriters: Mary Gauthier / Gretchen Peters
One of the books I read near the end of last year was Charles Martin’s ’The Mountain Between Us’ which I enjoyed, and I’d had other books of his on my radar after reading some glowing reviews of his books, so when the opportunity arose to read his ‘Send Down the Rain’ I took it.
The prologue shares the beginning of this story, through the eyes of Joseph, who is nine; his brother Bobby was eleven, and the day their father leaves, taking most everything that was his.
When Bobby comes to share the news with Joseph, he brings a jug of milk and a package of Oreos. Comfort food. They ate their cookies, drinking out of the jug, sitting on the shore while the waves rolled up, stirring the breeze across their skin, trying to absorb the meaning of what had just happened.
”I made a fist, crushing a cookie. Grinding it to powder. When the pieces spilled out between my fingers onto the beach, a physical and very real pain pierced my chest.
Fifty-three years later, it would stop.”
Once upon a time, Joseph and Allie were young, with visions for the future despite the war raging, updates on the news every night. When Joseph left for Vietnam, he gave Allie his ’67 Corvette, with no strings. But years have passed since then, and the last time he was back home in Cape San Blas he walked in just in time to see his brother exchanging vows with Allie.
One night, he finds himself helping a young mother and her two young children get to Florida, where they have relatives who can help them. And as he is on his way back to his childhood home, he spies the billowing smoke filling the air of a recent collision between an 18-wheeler with a full load of oil and a rock wall made out of boulders meant to resist the heavy winds and beating rains of hurricanes. Eventually, he will be told that the driver was the second husband of Allie.
This is a tender story, filled alternately with heartbreak and love, with forgiveness offered, and received. A story of broken hearts, healing, and of the destructive nature of hate and war, and the healing force of love, and the healing power of redemption: at its heart, it is a re-imagining of the tale of The Prodigal Son.
The stories of Vietnam are the background of this story, the story of Joseph’s battles there, and the ones he faces upon his return, the ones he continues to fight on his own these many years later. There is another background story of undocumented immigrants. All of these are woven together with the themes of this story into a lovingly told story of a love and a life that were lost, and a path to a new life and love found.
Sometimes, as much as we want to let go of painful memories, we can’t seem to bring ourselves to let them go. Sometimes we have reasons that others would understand, but there are times that pain becomes an integral part of ourselves, and we become reluctant to let them go. Afraid of what comes after the letting go – will we just be empty, or will we find a healthier way to fill those holes?
Martin’s writing is somewhat unique in that he eschews profanity and doesn’t dwell on sex, but in this story he tackles some other issues including addiction, physical abuse, and PTSD, but nothing is overly graphic. There are some war scenes that include war-related events, but even these are shown without an abundance of gruesome details. I believe he has a large Christian following, which appreciate the uplifting, inspiring messages of his stories, but I think this story would appeal to anyone.
Pub Date: 08 MAY 2018
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Thomas Nelson Fiction