I admit it. I am a sucker for intriguing titles. I got into the entire Julia Spencer-Fleming mystery series simply because her first book was entitled In the Bleak Midwinter and I spotted it on the store shelf. It was worth the read and I commend her work to any who are mystery aficionados.

So imagine my delight in coming across the story collection by Amy Bloom, Where the God of Love Hangs Out. Talk about a captivating title! So I read the title story with great anticipation. Would it be rich in theological references? Would there be symbolism to engage the curious mind? None of these.

The chief protagonist of the story is a man named Ray who lives in a small town, probably in Connecticut, called Farnham. Ray is a semi-retired attorney who has very mixed feelings about his marriage to a sometimes pretentious and difficult woman named Eleanor. Ellie reminds Ray every now and again that they promised to be married “for better or for worse.” She is not an entirely unsympathetic character, having undergone a hysterectomy at age 33.

The other primary character in the story is Ray’s daughter-in-law, Macy. She is a young woman whose life has been a struggle. Her mother has drug problems and borrows money. Macy was fortunate to receive a college scholarship, but lived in a boarding house and worked hard just to make ends meet. Macy has also lied to Ray and her husband, Ray and Ellie’s son Neil, about her parents and her background. She has told them that her parents are dead.

Another particularly memorable character is Randeane, owner and waitress at The Cup coffee shop. She describes her father as Jewish left-wing and her mother as white trash Pentecostal. Ray believes he is in love with Randeane. Randeane offers wisdom in the story. Visiting Randeane, Ray is offered his choice of a chair or a hammock. He chooses the chair, telling Randeane that the hammock is too unpredictable. “Oh, life’s a hammock,” Randeane said.

What the author provides in about twenty pages are small incidents which tell us something about these people and their relationships, especially about Ray and Macy. We move through moments of disappointment, sadness, embarrassment, small pleasures, and a few deep joys. No grand theology. No mysterious symbolism, save the hammock.

Maybe that’s just the point of the story. Where does the God of love hang out? Maybe God hangs out in the midst of ordinary lives that are sad and disappointing and embarrassing; lives with scars from hurts large and small; lives with small pleasures and a few deep joys. Where else would the God of love hang out? Where else is God more needed?

With Faith and With Feathers,

David