By Katie Ginn
With author Scarlet Hiltibidal (left), who recently shared her story on “Oh My Word with Katie.”
In January 2025, I rang in the new year with hot tea, Tylenol, and Jane Austen’s “Persuasion.” I was sick with the flu, the consequence of sitting by a stranger in a waiting room.
In my flu-ravaged state, I couldn’t stand the idea of reading contemporary fiction. Just imagining a page of snappy, slang-ridden 21st-century dialogue annoyed my already feverish brain. Hence, I curled up with “Persuasion,” which I’d never read before.
I plowed through the book when I wasn’t sleeping. Next, I reread Anna Sewell’s “Black Beauty.” Then I took on Henry Fielding’s “The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling” (not to be confused with the 1960s singer).
Since then, I’ve “happened” to read other classics, including “The Secret Garden,” “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” and “Crime and Punishment.” More recently, I started “Wuthering Heights,” because there’s a new movie version coming out soon. I’m super intrigued so far, but whoever called that book a “great love story” was lying like a dog.
I didn’t start 2025 aiming to read more classic British and Russian lit, but it happened. I also unexpectedly read more Christian fiction in 2025.
When I decided last summer to narrow the focus of the “Oh My Word with Katie” podcast to Christian writers, I searched for new Christian releases coming in early 2026. In eight weeks, I read four Christian novels, which is probably more than I’d read in the previous four years. (You can hear from two of those authors on “Oh My Word” this month!)
Looking back on what I read last year, I notice that Christian fiction can remind me how good God is, while classic literature often reminds me how bad we are (and thus how much we need Him).
I wept at the tenderness of Jesus in the biblical fiction book “On Living Stone: Salome’s Story,” and I wept at Raskolnikov’s spiritual torment after he committed murder in “Crime and Punishment.” (When he confesses his crime to a woman named Sonia, she cries, “What have you done to yourself!” Raskolnikov’s sin kills him spiritually as much as it kills his victim physically.)
Of course, the best books show both of the above truths – how bad we are and how good God is. They combine both Christian themes and literary depth. They might help us escape our world for a bit, but they also convict us about how to live when we re-enter it. My default examples are C.S. Lewis’ “The Chronicles of Narnia” and J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings,” but I would argue “Crime and Punishment” can do the same. There is hope for Raskolnikov in the end.
Christian nonfiction can be wonderful, too. I recently read “Hopeful-ish” by Scarlet Hiltibidal. But you know what impacted me the most in that book? Not Scarlet’s exhortations to find our hope and comfort in Christ (though they’re all truthful and good), but her personal stories, especially one about a sprinkled donut. I’ll let you read it yourself to find out why.
Of course, the Bible is the ultimate story, and Jesus taught in parables. He knew we could relate to stories. This is why MCL doesn’t just print columns about “how to” do xyz for Christ (though we do do that). Our biggest article in each issue is a story, a living, breathing narrative about real people who’ve lived a real life overseen by our very real God.
To be sure, everyone’s testimony is different. This month’s cover story is more lighthearted than the one from 2020 featuring moms who’d lost sons to suicide. But everybody’s story can and should proclaim the excellencies of He who called us out of darkness into His marvellous light (1 Peter 2:9).
This year, let’s ask ourselves: What stories are we consuming, and what stories are we telling? Are we skimming along the surface, entertaining ourselves and others with Netflix and small talk? (Ouch. Is the Holy Spirit using my own words to convict me?)
Are we reading lots of Christian how-tos but forgetting the story of God’s mercy and faithfulness? Are we sharing good Christian principles with others, but not sharing how we’ve learned those principles the hard way – or how Jesus’ blood covers us when we fail to live up to them?
We are all part of God’s eternal story, better than any book written by mere man. What an amazing privilege! Let’s not take it for granted.