A river could be a tree A memoir

Freelance writer Himsel comes from a long line of conservative evangelical Protestants in southern Indiana who didn't celebrate Christmas or Easter owing to their beliefs in a doomsday apocalyptic Christianity. The fearful restraints of the Worldwide Church of God led her to pursue her eternal salvation academically and to eventual religious studies in Jerusalem. After moving to New York, Himsel found herself casually considering Judaism. This move is paralleled (but not determined) by an unexpected pregnancy with a Jewish lawyer who eventually becomes the author's husband. For Himsel, having the choice to be Jewish rather than belong to the religion assigned to her at birth, is what defines her. VERDICT An engaging alternative to the traditional salvation memoir.-Sandra Collins, Byzantine Catholic Seminary Lib., Pittsburgh © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A memoir about an unusual spiritual journey.In her first book, freelance writer Himsel chronicles her slow transition from the cultlike religion of her youth to her conversion to Judaism. Raised in rural Indiana, the author followed her parents into the Worldwide Church of God, a quasi-Christian religion founded by radio evangelist Herbert Armstrong. The religion, steeped in end-times teachings, required members to adhere to Old Testament laws and holy days while eschewing many of the traditions of mainstream Christianity. Himsel was raised to assume the imminent end of the world and to see her salvation as based on how thoroughly she followed church teachings. Nevertheless, she managed to move onward, entering Indiana University. In 1981, while in college, she left to study in Israel to pursue her intense interest in the area's biblical history. At the time, she knew almost nothing about modern-day Israel or modern Judaism. Over time, however, her connection to Judaism grewthrough Israel and through American Jewish friendswhile her faith in her parents' church waned. Eventually, while living in New York, a Jewish boyfriend and a pregnancy forced the issue of conversion, leading to yet another journey. Himsel admirably narrates her life story in page-turning prose that is both entertaining and moving. Her tale of conversion is unique given that she started in what can only be seen tangentially as a Christian denomination. The since-discredited Worldwide Church of God both stunted the author's spiritual growth and led her to the foundations of Judaism. To many readers, it will seem that Judaism was a natural next step for Himsel. One unresolved issue is the author's oft-expressed yearning for "the Spirit," for a moment of certainty and full belonging. Unfortunately, she never seems to find this moment, nor even a full feeling of belonging, whether as a Christian or a Jew.An intriguing tale of one woman's search for identity and community. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

My parents were perplexed when I told them I wanted to spend my junior year in Israel. I was perplexed that they were perplexed. Hadn't we all sat in church for years and years listening to the minister and reading our Bibles and studying about the place in which God appeared, where the spiritual world met the physical plane? Wasn't Israel as much our spiritual home as Germany was our physical one? Although going to Jerusalem to connect with my spiritual DNA made logical sense to me, it was considered a crazy, impulsive whim to both my parents and my siblings. In his end-of-the-world tone, my father warned me, "It's a powder keg over there! Jesus has to return lest all flesh should perish.' My mother, however, clipped a bunch of newspaper articles about Israel to try to help me prepare. But I wasn't interested in what was going on there at that moment. It was biblical Israel I planned to inhabit. Excerpted from Hard to Believe: Growing up Cultish in Indiana, Living Jewish in New York by Angela Himsel All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.