Interview With My Daughter, Author Christina Berry--The Familiar Stranger

There are days in the life of a mother when her heart nearly bursts with pride at the accomplishment of her daughter. Maybe it's the first time she uses the potty, or her high school graduation. (Hopefully there's a long time between the two!) Perhaps it's her wedding day, or the birth of her first child.

I've watched my daughter, Christina Berry, follow her dream for the past ten years--her dream of writing a book and having it published. I've seen her persevere through the times when it seemed like it may never happen, and I've been there to jump and squeal with excitement when it did. She's got a two-month blog tour going on with the release of her debut novel, The Familiar Stranger. It's my joy and privilege to introduce you to a side of Christina maybe you don't know.

Welcome to The Mother Blog, Christina. It's great to have you here. I hope you'll feel at ease as we spend a few minutes getting to know each other better.

I know you were born in NV, (I remember it well) but where else have you lived? What was your favorite place and why?

From NV to Georgia for the language school before you guys were sent to Nigeria, West Africa. Then stateside to recup in South Lake Tahoe, CA, one year in Reno, NV, most of my growing up in Fallon, high school in Pendleton, OR, college in Forest Grove and now settled in the metropolis of Gaston,OR. (625 people)

My favorite place would have to be ... your womb. I had no worries, was always well-fed and warm enough, and my skin was baby soft!

What was your family like?

Crazy! If I were to tell you some of the stories ... man, especially about my mother! She threw shoes before it was even Middle-eastern-cool to throw them. :-) Really, I had a fantastically close family growing up. Friends used to say that our house was better than Disneyland because they could feel the love. My parents taught me God's way not only with words, but with actions.

What was the best advice your parents ever gave you?

That life wasn't fair. I actually don't remember hearing this often, but you claim to have said it often, and I trust you, so I'll believe it. Here's the thing: you were right. This last year has proven beyond a doubt that life is not fair ... and that our God is!

How did you come to know the Lord?

My daddy was a pastor. Not even four years old, sitting in church, I heard Dad preach about heaven and hell, and thought, "I want to be with God in heaven." A very simple choice, which many could say didn't mean anything because of my depth, or lack thereof, of understanding and my young age. To that I say, like a marriage vow, a promise can be made for a lifetime with no real comprehension of what the commitment entails, but it's no less a promise.

Long about 9th grade, I went through a time of questioning: do I really believe this for myself, or am I leaning on my parents' faith? It didn’t take long to figure out that nothing in this world makes sense if God didn't make it, if He doesn't control it and redeem it, and nothing is worth living for if Jesus isn't coming back. Since then, I’ve never doubted, though I have wrestled.

Your book is entitled The Familiar Stranger. How did you feel about strangers when you were young? Has your perspective changed?

I'm pretty sure I was shy and ran from strangers. Now, I'm much more extroverted. I'll talk to inanimate objects if no one is around! Plus, listening to strangers' conversations or watching gestures is fascinating as book research.

Is there anything you've never confessed to me that you'd like to right here in front of millions of readers?

Once--unbeknownst to me--a chocolate chip got stuck in my belly button, melted, and I thought I was bleeding. Oh, wait, you already know that ...

I snuck out of the house one time in high school to walk the loop with some friends. Terrified of something tragic befalling me and you never knowing what happened, I left an apologetic note on my pillow in case you checked on me. Uh ... you already knew that too. Guess I have no secrets from you, Mom!

Your birthday is the last day of this month. What was your most unusual birthday celebration? The time you packed a picnic for us to take up on the huge stone hill in Nigeria. Once we spread out our food and began to eat, the witch doctor woman came out and yelled and cursed us and ran us off the mountain.

I thought that would be the one you picked! I remember being emotionally wrung out from that experience and we came home and I spent the rest of the day on the couch. You made your own birthday cake, using a little "play" mix someone had sent you for Christmas. I felt like I'd win the award for the International Worst Mother of the Year! But it didn't seem to scar you for life, and you've never held it against me.

Christina is a single mom and foster parent who carves time to write from her busy schedule because she must tell the stories that haunt her every waking moment. (Such is the overly dramatic description of an author's life!) She holds a BA in Literature, yet loves a good Calculus problem, as well. Her debut novel, The Familiar Stranger, releases from Moody in September and deals with lies, secrets, and themes of forgiveness in a troubled marriage. A moving speaker and dynamic teacher, Christina strives to Live Transparently--Forgive Extravagantly!Her work has also appeared in The Secret Place, The Oregonian, and Daily Devotions for Writers. Find her at http://www.christinaberry.net and http://www.authorchristinaberry.blogspot.com/.

Christina, it's been fun to sit down and visit with you about your life and your book. We don't want to leave without inviting people to sign up for our infrequent, humorous newletter. There's a great contest going on at the Ashberry Lane newsletter, so everyone needs to stop by www.ashberrylane.net/update.aspx and sign up. Is there anything else you'd like to say in closing?

I just want to thank you for being the best mom in the whole world.

(So, okay, I didn't ask Christina that last question, but I'm sure that's what she'd say!!)

If you leave a comment on this blog, you'll automatically be entered to win an autographed copy of The Familiar Stranger.

Look for Christina's next interview tomorrow with Edwina Cowgill at http://musingsofedwinacowgill.blogspot.com

Back to Reality

I had a great time last week when I got away for several days with my parents. It's so neat that Mom (age 79) and Dad (age 81) are still able to travel and have fun. Their best friends came from California and met us in southern Oregon at a little town called Shady Cove. I'd never heard of it, but since mentioning the name to people, I've had numerous responses of, "Oh, I love Shady Cove!" I guess it was a well-kept secret that I'm now in on! And I'm sharing it with you!

We spent four nights at the Edgewater Motel, set on the banks of the beautiful Rogue River. When we arrived on Sunday and opened the French doors on the river side, we saw rafts and boats floating past our doorway. It looked like a lot of fun. I've never gone rafting, but maybe it's something I should try.

During our time there, Dad and Dick went fishing every day at a nearby reservoir while we women stayed at the motel and played umpteen games of cards and went out to eat. Seems to me that we got the better end of the deal. The best part was that I got to celebrate my 57th birthday while we were there. Mom and Joanne made the day special by taking me out to lunch in the old gold rush town of Jacksonville. The richness of the decor and the ambiance of the Jacksonville Inn stirred my imagination as a writer. The trolley car tour we later took of the town only added to my vivid pictures of life in the 1800's.

So where does reality fit in with this, you ask? How can "real life" break through amidst dining out, living in the past, and maid service? Well, it happened when I returned home to find a $1200 bill (not covered by insurance) for blood tests I had done in the process of trying to find out what's wrong with my feet. (Talk about having to foot the bill!) And if that weren't bad enough, the next day I got notice that I've been summoned to appear for grand jury selection next month!

I've decided my best bet is to not open any more mail!

OCW Weekend

This will be a quick post this morning, as I'm heading to the beach in just a few minutes. I know ... it's a rough life! I get to go back to the beach house where John took me on our Mystery Weekend last month. My parents were planning on going with us, but they've both been sick with colds and won't be able to make it, We'll have to try to get them over there at a later time.

Friday afternoon Christina and I, along with our dear friend and fellow critique group member, Miriam, drove down to Eugene to be ready to attend the OCW (Oregon Christian Writers) conference the following day. What made this day especially fun was that we were slated for a tour of Harvest House Publishers, given by our own Kim Moore. (We call her our own, because we don't want to share her! What's really funny is that she's turned us down three or four times, and yet continues to believe in us and care about us. Just a really special person in our lives.) Another member of our critique group, Kristen, met us there.

Harvest House is an amazing place. Huge--with lots of offices, a distribution warehouse that looks larger than a Costco, and books everywhere you look. It's like letting a drug addict loose in an opium field! Kim must have seen how badly we needed a fix after spending an hour there, as she graciously invited us to each pick out a book to take home. Thanks, Kim!

We didn't want the good times to stop, so took Kim out to dinner at a cool barbecue place called The Hole in the Wall. We'd eaten there last year and really enjoyed it, so now it's a tradition. Kim was an entertaining dinner guest, full of stories and insights about the writing world. After dinner she invited us over to her house to meet her well-loved cats.

We spent the night at Kristen's grandma's house. Rita capped our evening with pie and tea. Of course we stayed up talking 'til nearly midnight. Do women ever run out of things to talk about?

Saturday morning, after many wrong turns, (none of us had brought directions along) we finally arrived at Northwest Christian University for the conference. It always feels like walking into a family reunion when we attend these events, as we only get to see most of these people at the conferences, which are months apart from each other. Cindy Martinusen Coloma was the keynoter and did a remarkable job. She spoke on "The Call of a Writer" and "The Fictive Life." She had very interesting presentations and I took lots of notes.

Mid-afternoon, Christina and I had the privilege of teaching a class called "Writing in Tandem." We had a good-sized group, with lots of interaction and participation. (I think the candy we brought helped!) It was fun to present things we've learned through our years of writing together.

I realized when I got home that evening that I wasn't tired out. Usually a busy weekend will make me feel draggy, but I think the teaching energized me. But in spite of that, I'm anxious to get to the beach and relax!

Beware of Dogs with Zits!

A couple of weeks ago my eight-year-old grandson, Joshua, came downstairs to see what I was doing. It was a little after 5 pm and I had the TV news on in the background as I was working on dinner. For some reason the news appeals to Josh, and he sat down to watch it.

"Grandma, they're looking for a pimple."

"What do you mean?" I asked as I continued to chop onions.

"The news says that people in the neighborhood are looking for a big pimple."

Intrigued, I rinsed my hands and joined him on the couch, hoping to figure out what this breaking news was all about. I listened to the newscaster as she said, "Neighbors are on the alert for a large pit bull roaming the neighborhood."

(Say it out loud to yourself--pit bull and pimple sound a lot alike!)

Getting to First Base

It’s that wonderful time of year in Oregon, when we parents and grandparents get to sit in biting wind and pouring rain to watch our children play baseball or softball. Our umbrellas may be up, their edges dripping water onto the knees of the person sitting behind us on the bleachers, and our blankets tightly wrapped around us, but those little players in the field don’t seem to be bothered much by the weather. Their attention is on the game. They are glad simply to be part of the team.

As I’ve been watching the games this year, I’ve been impressed by how much the young players have to learn. It’s not natural for most of them to have the correct stance, their hands positioned correctly on the bat. Nor is it easy to keep their eyes on the ball and swing at precisely the right second to ensure the bat connects with a resounding thwack! Then there’s the whole matter of making it to base before the ball does. One little girl on the team gently lays the bat on the ground before heading off for first base, as if she’s lovingly placing a doll on her bed before going out to play! It’s hard for her to beat the ball, except for the fact that that it’s usually overthrown, giving her a chance to make it in time.

My granddaughter is fortunate to have our pastor as her coach. This is her first year to play, and his encouragement helps her enjoy the experience. “Good try, Andrea. You’ll get it on this next pitch.” And when she hits it I can hear him say, “I knew you could do it!”

I think it may be like that in our Christian life too. When we first become believers, there are a lot of new things to learn. We’re glad to be part of the team, and we have a general idea of what we’re supposed to do, but are maybe not sure how or why. We need someone who can explain the importance of prayer and Bible reading. The importance of attending church and giving. The importance of serving in some capacity.

Will we always get it right? No, there will be times we strike out. But that doesn’t mean we’re eliminated from the game. As long as we get out on the field, no matter the weather, and listen to the directions of our coach, we’ll find ourselves becoming more proficient in our Christian walk. We’ll find our rhythm and it will become more natural, in a supernatural way, to live the life Christ has for us.

Batter up!

An Evening of Gentility

Last weekend John and I were part of something that is quite unusual in our modern culture--an evening of gentility. He teaches at Veritas School, which provides a classical education for kindergarten through twelfth grade. Yes, they even learn Latin!

The biggest social event of their year is Protocol. This is something that all high schoolers can attend, but is in honor of the seniors. Seating is limited, so not all staff are invited. But John and I received an invitation this year, and it was a joy to participate.

It was held at the country club in Wilsonville. All the girls wore floor-length gowns in spring colors. No blacks. We women could wear knee-length dresses, which was a blessing for me since I'm so tall it would be nearly impossible to find a long gown. The boys and men all wore suits and ties.

Round tables for eight were covered with crisp white tablecloths, a beautiful arrangement of flowers gracing the center. Each table was hosted by a senior student, who was responsible to see that the conversation didn't lag. We had no problem with that at our table! John and I were the only adults and really enjoyed the students we shared the four-course meal with.

So what made this evening so genteel? The gorgeous setting certainly helped. The teens were polite and showed wonderful manners. The males at each table rose whenever a woman stood to leave or return to the table. I've never seen that happen any place but in books! Toasts were made to each senior, often by a younger brother or sister. The sentiments were heartfelt, often resulting in tears by the honoree, and sometimes by the person offering the toast. And the dancing--it was like nothing I've seen outside of movies. The young ladies stood on one side of the room, the young men on the other. They would approach the women and ask for the "pleasure of this dance" then escort them to that side of the room when the dance was through, and tell them thank you.

The dancing itself was very unusual, in a good way. It began with the Grand March, which was like something out of Jane Austen. There was a grand promenade, with weaving back and forth, in and out, between the other couples. They did the Virginia Reel, an Irish dance, and a waltz. No bodies pressed closely together, feet barely moving. Nothing like the sensual atmosphere that permeates most dances nowadays. The whole event was done so well--everyone had fun and it honored Christ. I hope we get an invitation again next year!

Mystery Weekend Revealed

More than two months ago, before all the upheaval in our lives, John called me from school to ask if I would like to get away for a few days. I'm always up for that! After looking through our calendars, we realized that Easter weekend would be our best opportunity. He didn't tell me where we were going, but that's okay--I like surprises!

A few days later the breakup of Christina's marriage occurred, as well as the ensuing concentrated work of getting the house up on the market. I've worked extremely hard for many weeks, and have felt on the brink of exhaustion. Knowing I had a "mystery date" coming up was one of the things that kept me going.

John and I left mid-afternoon on Thursday and he started driving toward the coast. That's one of my favorite places to go, so I already knew his weekend plans were a success! As we drove through Lincoln City we passed several motels where we've stayed in the past, so I continued to be mystified. Imagine my surprise when he turned off Highway 101 into a gated community at Salishan. What? We didn't know anyone there! He slowly drove down the winding streets (at the posted speed limit of 18 mph it took seven minutes to arrive) and pulled in at a weather-glazed condo on the edge of the beach.



He unlocked the door and we entered a snug 2-story, 3-bedroom, 2-bath condo, decorated in the calming blues of the sea. The west side of the house was a wall of windows overlooking the beach, which was just over a hillock covered with beach grass. Turns out that a couple who are connected with the school John teaches at own the vacation house, and are extremely gracious about inviting friends to go enjoy it. I was nearly moved to tears by their generosity. On the table a bottle of sparkling cider waited for us, along with a gift certificate to a nice restaurant down the road. We felt as if God's blessings were pouring over our heads.

That night we used the gift certificate and ate a wonderful dinner at Tidal Raves in Depoe Bay. The sun was setting and John went outside to capture the beautiful evening.



Friday morning we awoke to sunny skies, which is not a given on the Oregon coast. We went for a long walk on the beach. (Kind of sounds like a singles ad, doesn't it?)














Late that morning I called Christina to tell her where we were and what we were doing. I said I hoped that sometime we'd get invited to come to the house again and maybe we could bring her and the kids with us. That it would give her some healing to her soul.

Around 7 p.m. John and I were preparing dinner together (an activity in The Love Dare book where we'd been held up for weeks) when there was a knock on the door. I asked him to answer it, but stuck my head around the kitchen corner to see who it was. Talk about a surprise! There stood Christina and the children!! They had been in on it from the beginning of the planning all those weeks ago! My joy was complete. John and I had had a wonderful time together as just a couple, and now we got to share it with some of the most special people in our lives. Andrea and Joshua could hardly wait to get down to the beach, and Christina's 2-year-old foster daughter (code name, Angel) was just as excited, though she had no idea what they were talking about since she'd never been to the ocean. (I wish I could share pictures of the kids, but we're not allowed to post photos of Angel.)

In spite of the windy evening, we all donned jackets and went out to introduce little Angel to her new surroundings. She was exuberant about it all. Every time one of us would talk about the waves, Angel would wave her hand. She wasn't afraid when she and Christina were surprised by a sneaker wave (or "sneaky wave," as Angel calls it) and were thoroughly doused by the freezing Pacific.

That night when we were all safely inside the warm house, Angel looked out the window and said, "Where the ocean go?" I explained that it was still out there but that we couldn't see it in the dark. Saturday morning she woke up, ran to the window and exclaimed, "The ocean comed back!"

Saturday was spent relaxing, playing games, and Christina and the kids and I going to the new Hannah Montana movie while John stayed home and practiced violin for his upcoming concert. We all went out for Chinese food that night, then watched a movie when we came home. The word for the day was "relax" and I learned it well.

The kiddos discovered Easter baskets waiting for them Sunday morning, which kept them busy while we packed up. We headed home through the rain, stopping at Church on the Hill in McMinnville to attend one of their four Easter services. (We weren't able to get back to our home church in time for their service.) It was a joyous time of celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and meditating on His goodness to us. I realized that He had prepared this special weekend away even before I knew I had need of it. The depth of His caring is unfathomable.