He kissed her again and held her so tightly she feared she’d break. Then, delighted and whole, she walked halfway up the path to her home before turning on her heel and running back to jump into his waiting arms.
“Do you see, darling?” she whispered, loving the feel of being lifted off the ground. “I will always, and forever, choose you.”
One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
ECCLESIASTES 1:4
BREATH OF ANGELS
11:22 P.M.
The room is never completely dark, so she can still see the image on the photograph. Charlotte Hill, she supposes, is long gone. The night staff is never comfortable with visitors, not even those waiting out a death vigil. Because really, given the circumstances of those who have “moved on,” what night isn’t?
The last thing she remembers before giving in to sleep is Charlotte’s question.
“And who’s this?”
She left the photograph on the bedside table along with a pen as some sort of hint, she supposes, for Lynnie to identify the young man and woman in the picture.
With hair newly bobbed, she is wearing her peach-colored chiffon blouse and brocade skirt, Brent a brown suit. Lynnie knows this not only because she clearly remembers the day the picture was taken, but also because they’d had the photographer tint the prints.
Little wonder that nobody ever realizes it is a wedding picture upon first glance. There are no flowers, no veil. There had been a dress painstakingly sewn by her sister, but as she discovered the night before the wedding, it proved too ill-fitting to be worn with any serious intention. She’d been tempted to run to the parsonage in the wee morning hours, pound on the door, and tell Brent the dress was unsuitable and she was leaving for St. Louis to retrieve her mother’s, but his trust—even as they joined their hands in matrimony—was still too fragile.
When she went to the market, she’d tell him, “I’ll be back.”
When she went to visit her newborn niece, she promised to return.
When she drove a car for the first time, went to the movies, succumbed to the twilight sleep of childbirth, she promised always and forever to choose him over any other. When she wandered into the darkness of mourning as she handed each one over to Jesus—two little girls, one little boy, and a grown hero in the Second World War—he alone gave her a reason to live.
And even when she stood bathed in the light of Glory, ready to meet her Savior, she followed the tide back to where Brent’s gnarled hand clasped hers. She’d opened her eyes to find him watching, waiting for one more chance to say, “Lynnie. You’re home.”
Months later, when it was he who slipped away, she’d kissed his wrinkled cheek and made her final promise.
All of this she wants to write on the back of the picture, but the space is so small and the story so big. Still, she turns it over, and in the pale-blue night-light writes, My life.
And no more.
Her head fills with the words of a long-forgotten song. Not the one newly sprung to life, but one forever lost—tucked away in the pocket of a pretty pink dress—its words half-rubbed away for the shame of longing. It’s never had a tune, until now, when a million voices rise up in melody.
My world is full of pleasant places,
Surrounded by familiar faces,
Yet sometimes I yearn for life beyond these lines.
Finally she feels the Lord’s blessing to have such a yearning, and the boundary line is broken.
She opens her mouth and sings, Jesus is coming . . . But it’s Charlotte’s voice she hears, which is just fine for Charlotte. Jesus will come for her, but is he coming for Lynnie? Or has she had it wrong all this time?
Late. Late. Late.
She feels both moss and mud caught up between her toes as she flies across the soft carpet of the forest floor, and somewhere far off the promise of a City beckons.
He’s waiting.
He’s been waiting.
And Lynnie runs.
At the beginning of the story, we meet Dorothy Lynn on the night before her 107th birthday. What are your thoughts—or fears—about living for an entire century?
Dorothy Lynn worships God through her music—both in her secluded spot in the woods and on a stage in front of thousands of people. Is the worship at both venues equally valid? What are the pitfalls of each?
Do you think Dorothy Lynn’s decision to join Roland on the jaunt to Los Angeles calls her love for Brent into question? Why do you think she wanted to go? Did you approve of her choice? Why or why not?
In Dorothy Lynn’s sister, Darlene, we see a woman who has embraced many elements of modern womanhood while still exemplifying a very traditional role. In today’s world, is it possible for women to be both forward-thinking and traditional? What are the challenges—then and now—to living that way?
The real-life Aimee Semple McPherson was one of the most powerful women of her day—a true pioneer in evangelism and one of the first women to hold a radio broadcasting license. She also owned a movie production studio and published several magazines. How important is it for women to have key roles in the work of evangelism? What contributions can women make in spreading the gospel that are different from what men are able to do?
The story brings Dorothy Lynn together with Charlotte Hill—a young, heretofore unknown great-great-niece. What opportunities will Charlotte have in her life that Dorothy Lynn never had? What challenges?
Dorothy Lynn’s brother, Donny, could not face returning to his prewar life after his return from war. Have you ever known anyone who had a similar reaction to returning from military service? Do you think Donny made the right choice? What do you think of Dorothy Lynn’s decision to let him pursue a new path?
What were your reactions to Dorothy Lynn’s assembled family—Roy and Darlene’s descendants? How do their intergenerational dynamics compare to those in your own family? What are some ways extended families can stay close despite the passing of time and the challenges of keeping in touch—or is that even possible?
Do you think Dorothy Lynn is truly attracted to Roland Lundi, or is she more enthralled with everything he represents? What evidence do you have for your answer? How would her life have been different if she had chosen to stay in California with him?
Have you ever come to a fork in the road like the one Dorothy Lynn faces? How did—or would—you go about choosing which path to take? And what kinds of “little” choices do we make every day that contribute toward the larger path our lives end up taking?
Ecclesiastes 2:11 (NLT) says, “But as I looked at everything I had worked so hard to accomplish, it was all so meaningless—like chasing the wind. There was nothing really worthwhile anywhere.” Is that an accurate assessment of Dorothy Lynn’s life? Why or why not? How did the passages from Ecclesiastes used throughout this story influence the way you read it?
Why is worship an important part of the Christian life? What is your favorite worship song? Why?
I knew I wanted to write a series set in the 1920s, but I was having a hard time convincing anyone that it would be a good idea. I’m a Christian writer of Christian fiction, and—let’s face it—the Jazz Age isn’t exactly known for its piety.
We call these years the Roaring Twenties, and they were indeed a time of roaring change. Men returned from fighting the Great War on foreign soil with a new taste for sophistication and adventure. Women, having won the right to vote, stormed the walls of feminine convention, shedding their long hair and long skirts in a new zest for freedom. Thrust into a world where wild parties replaced church socials and cars with rumble seats stole the road from Sunday buggy rides, young girls saw the fair-skinned, long-legged flapper heralded as the new feminine ideal.
So how to incorporate all of that into a series exploring issues of faith? While I was pondering that, my agent extraordinaire, Bill Jensen, asked me, “Have you ever heard of Aimee Semple McPherson?” I was googling even before he finished speaking, and a whole new worl
d opened up to me. Rising to her calling in a way that would have been impossible in any other decade, evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson brought her urgent plea for repentance to small towns with her traveling revivals, also launching a multimedia ministry through her magazine, The Bridal Call, as well as radio and film. Her bobbed hair and attention to fashion made her a towering figure of modern faith, bringing millions to worship at her Los Angeles church.
And there was my focus. Not just flappers, not just floozies, but godly Christian women who were afforded astonishing opportunities to explore their gifts in a world that was becoming increasingly accepting of their contributions.
The idea of beginning this book at the end of Dorothy Lynn’s life turned out to be the jumping-off point for the whole story. I actually watch the Today show every morning; I see that spinning jam jar and the faces of those who have lived for a century or more and wonder about the things they have witnessed. Still, there was a crucial element missing, because not everybody would agree that the final years of Dorothy Lynn’s life were resplendent with blessings. Then I went to a funeral for the mother of a dear friend, Matt. Years earlier she had suffered a stroke, during which she was given a glimpse of the life to come. She spent her final years on earth with a frustrated longing—grateful for the additional time with her family, but eager to return to the glory she knew awaited her. I went home that afternoon and wrote and wrote and wrote.
All for a Song is ultimately a story of longing, of searching for what you think you lack. If we are to yearn for anything, let it be for the return of Jesus Christ. In the meantime, let us love one another, giving gifts of grace.
Award-winning author Allison Pittman left a seventeen-year teaching career in 2005 to follow the Lord’s calling into the world of Christian fiction, and God continues to bless her step of faith. Her novels For Time and Eternity and Forsaking All Others were both finalists for the Christy Award for excellence in Christian fiction, and her novel Stealing Home won the American Christian Fiction Writers’ Carol Award. She heads up a successful, thriving writers group in San Antonio, Texas, where she lives with her husband, Mike, their three sons, and the canine star of the family—Stella.
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