Ratings and Reviewing (aka Why Did You Give It That Number of Stars?)

A befuddled question from a daughter "How exactly do you rate your books?" initiated this post. A standard ratings guide looks a little like the one below (maybe a bit fancier).

This is an opportunity to reveal my complex, not so complex, way of scoring and have a post to which I can refer in other book review posts. Starting from the top:

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 stars still means phenomenally great, well, maybe not always phenomenally, but it definitely means that I have bought the book or will buy the book. It usually means the writing is fabulous; however, it always means I have parts of the book that I want to remember or to refer to.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 stars still means really good. It might mean that the writing was phenomenal; however, the difference between 4 and 5 involves whether I would buy the book. 5 always means, "I want to own this book" and 4 means "I loved reading this book, but I don't know that I would ever read it again." The Chemist (if you like that genre) was a story that kept me hanging on the edge of my seat. The Help, I stayed up all night to finish that book (hmmm, I may have rated it 5 stars back in the day before I started really fine tuning my ratings). However, with both of these books, the story and writing is amazing, but I'm not buying the books. I'm willing to wait to get them from the library if need be.

Four stars is a tricky little rating for me. If you are my friend and you ask me to rate your book, there is a distinct possibility that I will give it a 4 rather than a 3 because you are my friend. If I hate your book, I will try to never get around to finishing it. Now some books of friends really are 4-5 star ratings. You never know.

⭐⭐⭐ 3 stars is a tough one to explain. It might be a beach read, a book to entertain me. The trouble with three stars is people who love the book want to know why I only gave it three stars, and the people who hate the book, wonder why I even bothered. Three stars very often means that I enjoyed reading the book; I'm glad the author wrote the book, but I'm not going to be referring to it. Maybe there were some flaws in the storyline or in the writing. Maybe they weren't flaws at all -- maybe the book just was not my cup of tea! For those unfamiliar with that phrase, others might like the book, but it was not the usual type of book I read or like.

⭐⭐ 2 stars still means I didn't like the book, but I don't think I give out 2 stars very often. Two star books are blah, and I rarely finish "boring, dull, and without meaningful content" books.

⭐ I think I have only ever given out one 1 star rating to a book. I would not finish reading a book I hated; however, I might have been the library book discussion group leader and had to finish this particular book. You might wonder why I chose a book I hated. In our group, no one person chooses all the books, and, at the time, I would lead the discussion, but everyone had an opportunity to choose a book.

0 rating -- You may wonder at a zero rating. This does not mean that I hated the book beyond belief. It means either I did not get around to rating a book (at my entrance into Goodreads, I added a lot of books at one time without rating each and every book), or it means it's just that type of book which is difficult to rate which truly means that I'm too much of a coward to tell my friends who love the book that it was so-so or to tell my friends who hated the book that I actually loved it. Lol!

And, now I close to go attend our local library book discussion group! 

Constant Comparisons and Cutthroat Competition Crushes Compassion

My last post left me unsatisfied. Fasting from "snipping" or "giving my opinion"isn't a bad idea. I love how Catherine Marshall wrote about her day of fasting from giving her opinion--she didn't know how 24 hours of holding her tongue could be so hard! Nonetheless, I think I want to dig deeper. I started listing reasons I would have for responding like the women did to the mother of a two-year-old.

1) I truly think the mother of the teenagers was trying to be loving and kind. I imagine her hope was that moms of little ones may have it tough now, but maybe that means their tough days will be during the years when you can still pick the children up, hug them, and put them to bed.

2) Hopefully, the mother of teenagers was not saying, "You may think it's rough now, but, boy oh boy, wait until they hit the teenage years!" I am fairly sure that something similar has passed through my lips. Now, as I look at a statement like that, I am really competing for whose life is the most challenging. I would like to give myself the benefit of the doubt and say I am commiserating with the moms of young children. Essentially I am trying to say that I understand their pain because I am in pain, too. It is obvious from the harsh responses of the moms of babies that they were not comforted. I need to learn from their responses because I want to be a person whose words bring love and light, not cause harm.

How often I play the comparison game or the competition game. Why? Sometimes I use my challenges because I feel I am being pushed to do something I just can not or do not want to do. Instead of looking to Jesus for direction in my life and simply letting my "yes" be "yes" and my "no" be "no," I compete for whose life is busiest.

Or, I compare my life with someone else's and I look for all the reasons I fall short when I need to listen to the Holy Spirit, who does not use words such as, "Girl, you just fell short. What's wrong with you anyway?" In defensive mode, I spell out how challenging my life is, which it very probably is, because life is tough, but this means the other person is going through tough times as well. I can turn to Jesus to speak words of love and compassion.

I love how Frank Laubach writes in his letter (9 March 1930): "...His question is, 'How far will this man and that woman allow me to carry this hour?'" 

"But how 'practical' is this for the average man? It seems to me now that yonder plowman could be like Calixto Sanidad, when he was a lonesome and mistreated plowboy, 'with my eyes on the furrow, and my hands on the lines, but my thoughts on God.' The carpenter could be as full of God as was Christ when he drove nails...Some hour spent by some night watchman might be the most glorious ever lived on earth. God is not through yet. He is breaking through.."

Wherever I am at: as the pregnant mom with 3 children at home whose "water" broke at the same time that the toilet overflowed (yes, it really did happen), as the mom of 4 teenagers pushing the boundaries while the husband is working overtime hours, as the woman who loses her job and her community when a new boss streamlines the company, in all these my eyes can be on Jesus who keeps me in His peace and His grace as I turn to Him moment by moment. And, when I forget, He lovingly calls me back.

The photo in this post was taken many years ago when my boys were young and decided to change pajamas with one another. I find that I often try to "change clothes with someone else." Not physically of course, but I compare my life to someone else's. I look at their "outsides" and think if they had my life, then...

I put "my clothes" onto them.

Or, I think if I had their lives -- I put on "their clothes" -- then...

Somehow I miss the fact that I end up looking like my boys do in this picture.

I have no need to compete; I have no need to compare. I am His Beloved. He calls me by name; I am His. My identity is in Him. He sustains me as I practice slowing my mind down long enough to hear Him speak so lovingly to me. Often that means not rushing my steps, not rushing my hands, not rushing my words -- that conscious practice of slowing down when it is possible makes it easier to hear His voice when life seems impossible...or when a compassionate word is needed.