“Then one morning my [Sunday school teacher used my mother] as an example of sin for our lesson.… I remember asking my mother, ‘What does hypocrite mean?’ She couldn’t find a way to answer. I started to cry. She set her jaw. That was the last Sunday we went.”
Growing up in a small town in New Hampshire, Kate Young Caley attended a strong community church where everyone was treated like family, members selflessly helped one another, and all the kids were made to feel special. Then, suddenly, everything changed. Her father was hospitalized for many months and her mother was forced to take a job as a waitress to support the family. But the job required Kate’s mother to serve alcohol, which went against the church’s covenant, and the family, banned from attending services, soon found itself emotionally ostracized from the community.
In this compelling memoir, Kate Young Caley recounts the hurt and confusion she felt as a young girl, her subsequent questions concerning the Church, and her thoughtful and determined personal journey back to God. At once the story of a family profoundly transformed by tragedy and an incisive look at the meaning of God’s love, The House Where the Hardest Things Happened beautifully illustrates what it’s like to try and find God when you’ve been told you have no right to Him.
I may be a cold-hearted atheist but this book really resonated with me. I grew up in a Baptist Church and in a rural area. My grandfather struggled through various illnesses just like the author's father. There are lessons to be learned in these pages even if you aren't religious. I enjoyed the narrative. I gave four stars instead of five because the religious stuff was a bit overbearing at times and dampened my overall enjoyment. Even so, that's a personal problem and not the fault of the book.
Cast out of church by legalistic self-righteous religion, Kate not only recovers in childhood but thrives through constant seeking of God and love
I am not normally into vivid descriptions of the outdoors. I mean, I like them but not necessarily as books I choose.
Bit this book starts with an almost abominable act by a church where Law supercedes grace. I was angry reading it the first time because of the religion superseding love that cast this little girl's parents, and then her, out as if they were apostate.
Yet there is no giving into rage for Kate. She is too busy funding her way back to God and family and hymns and internal, silent moments.
She invites us to listen as friends. She remains sometimes uncertain about what God cares about or doesn't in salvation and a life of faith. She probably has no idea how beloved she must be by God.
Her descriptive powers in mature make me long for the one place with a cabin and a lake that I remember best in my life, a place in Canada called Aylen Lake. I was there by invitation of a beloved friend, then my girlfriend but in all years since a remaining true friend while we have had our own separate families and growth.
That lake experience wrote itself on my heart, though. Someplace to long for. Very much like all of the beaches I have hung out with Jesus at, but a lake out in nature is still different and unique. For Kate it is a pond. Certainly a Walden kind of place. When I read her words, I'm drawn back to that kind of mixture of nature and faith.
Kate has no arrogance or sense of being better than anyone who stood by and let her family be expelled from church. She had a very forgiving heart.
For herself, she loves altar calls, despite having raised her hand at least 39 times to invite Jesus in again, even while knowing Jesus already lives in and through her.
Maybe you always carry a fear that the rug will be pulled out from under you and you'll find yourself in a Roman arena where people root for the lions. Maybe that keeps her humble. But her humility never wavers, and is no act. She just is humble qnd surprised by faith every time it reaches out and saves her.
Most astounding is a chapter or two when a debilitating illness seems destined to take her from her children early, as had happened to her loving father in mid-life. She doesn't draw the comparison. She is too busy wondering if she will continue in disrepair unto death. But when she comes out of it and heals, it is profound courage, even though it seems no more than building a campfire. Yet it is one of the great stories of faith superceding the mystery of undiagnosed trauma. I've survived such trauma. I know there is no one moment when it all explains itself. ButI also know it is a gift to receive your life and strength back, and to discover you will not only be around but have the joys of being a grandparent ahead in later chapters.
Her faith and strength come from her wise children and steady and sure husband who stays the course with her to recovery and renewed health.
I'm so glad I came back to this book.
I read a lot of books as a younger man only as far as ai needed to find the sermon illustrations or to get what I needed. Fiction I will almost always finish. Non-fiction, .ot quite as often. I discover now and then that books I actually loved I didn't finish.
This time I finished it. I think I appreciate it more now than I would have when I first read it.
Kate Young Caley is a friend I will carry with me in my heart. I've never met her. I just got drawn in to her gift for writing prose and living authentic life. Someday, probably in the next life, I'll sit with her, thank her, talk with her, and enjoy the Jesus in her and seeing her rewards that her life will reap. I hope we get to talk out by a pond. Much more observant than ai usually am, I could learn a lot more just seeing through her eyes.
I think this memoir was cathartic for author, Kate Y. Caley. Her writing shares how she coped with the childhood church that banned her family because due to family circumstances, her mother became a waitress at a restaurant that served alcohol. She shares her spiritual journey forthrightly. Her emotion is evident throughout. By the end, it felt as if a kind, thoughtful, loving friend shared her very personal life journey with me.
Tender, heartbreaking, beautiful read. Picked up from a neighborhood book box (little free library) and will struggle to let it go. Highly recommend to those who love and seek God in spite of the harm caused by churches and Christian people.
Memoir of a family shunned by their church community because of life circumstances. Hard to read about their hardships. I also didn't do super well with her writing style.
One of the loveliest memoirs I've read. This is some good writing. Even though the subject matter can be painful - the lasting effects on a family, specifically the author, when their church ex communicates them - it is still full of hope. She is still honest without having an ounce of self pity. Her ability to let questions linger instead of trying to provide all the answers is also refreshing.I love her writing and am off to check if there is more where this came from.
My recent difficulty with memoirs lies in all that's left unsaid. While I liked things about the style, the challenges, the imagery in this book, there was something missing for me.
Her movement in time also confused me sometimes, and I felt distracted... Overall though, an interesting look at a difficult situation.
This was a very blah, nothing book, and the time reading it was a total waste. Sad to think that a tree died so that this book could be printed. So, not every church is a fit for everybody, and you may have to look around a bit--seriously, most of us have figured that out without so much tedious rambling. Nothing special going for it except that it was blessedly short.
I didn't care for the book. I read it out of principle..but I felt the author didn't spend enough time delving into what the book was supposed to be about. Leaves a lot of questions answered. I am annoyed that I spent my week reading this book, I could've been reading something else more interesting.
I enjoyed reading this book. The author shares honestly about her journey for a closer relationship with God. The only thing I had difficulty with was the frequent changing back and forth from memories of childhood to adulthood.