I recently read The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. If you've read it, you know. You know how heart wrenching it is. You know it's impossible to get through this book without navigating the terrain of your own grief for our broken world and for our brothers and sisters who suffer the greatest atrocities within it. As I was reading this novel that portrays a war torn country, and the atrocities inflicted by the Taliban, I stopped frequently to initiate conversations with my partner--mostly needing to vent my anger towards people who sadistically harm others "in the name of God". Nothing--I mean NOTHING--is more absurd to me than this. If you are committing violence in the name of God, you know nothing of God. This book riled me up and stirred my pot in big ways. My partner would roll his eyes and say, "You've got to stop reading this book". He didn't understand why I would choose to read something so profoundly horrific--why I would want to imm