Sunday, September 30, 2012

Mother of Pearl by Kellie Coates Gilbert - REVIEWED


About the Book: (from Abingdon Press)

Barrie Graeber has two great kids, a loving husband, and a respected job as the high school counselor in her close-knit community. Without warning, everything unravels when her teenage daughter, Pearl, is betrayed by friends and lashes out.

Nothing prepares this mother for the helplessness that follows when her attempts to steer her daughter back on course fail and Pearl shuts her out . . . or when she discovers the unthinkable about her nemesis, the football coach.

Emotionally riveting and profoundly moving, Mother of Pearl brings us into the heart of a mother bound by an incredible burden, who ultimately finds she must recognize her own vulnerability and learn to trust in something much bigger.

My Thoughts:

“No one warned me nightmares could get worse when you grow up.” (p. 75)

At the moment this thought crossed Barrie Graeber’s mind, she was living through a parent’s worst nightmare.  True to this thought process, her nightmare does indeed grow darker as the truth comes to light.

The greater truth is revealed later in the story, and while it is a truth many struggle to understand, it is truth that stands regardless of circumstances. The circumstances that frame this story are hauntingly familiar if you’ve followed the news lately.  Teens today must face rather dire choices in the 21st century, and most often they don’t possess the maturity to choose wisely.  Emotions are most often the determining factor, and choices are made in the heat of the moment. Choices that alter a life-course forever after.  Barrie Graeber’s daughter, Pearl, makes  some choices that impact many lives for all eternity.

This story was not what I expected to discover behind the cover.  The first few chapters seemed to confirm my expectations.  And then…things took a totally unexpected turn.  I found myself weeping with Barrie and her family.  I felt their heartache, and anger, and confusion – their shock, and disbelief and frustration.  Gilbert is an author that writes very believable emotions and situations into her character’s lives, and she makes it possible for the reader’s heart and mind to reel with those same emotions in those same situations.

I highly recommend this story to everyone! The issues that are presented are real and relevant! Read this story!  Love your children! Trust God! And pray for each other! Now.

The Author:
A former legal investigator and trial paralegal, Kellie Coates Gilbert writes with a sympathetic, intimate knowledge of how people react under pressure.  She is a Pacific Northwest native, and now calls Dallas home.




Thursday, September 27, 2012

Torsils in Time by William D. Burt - REVIEWED

About the Book: (from the author's website)
Book II in the "King of the Trees" fantasy series by William D. Burt.
WINEPRESS PUBLISHING: JUNE, 2001. (Softcover; 288 pages. Ill. by Terri L. Lahr and Rebecca J. Burt.) 
Includes glossary and pronunciation guide at the back for easier reading and for reading aloud.

In this sequel to The King of the Trees, Rolin and Marlis are enjoying a carefree autumn picnic when they are trapped between worlds. Too late they learn the connections among a silver starglass, a handful of pearls and five ravens. Cut off from friends, family and each other by a mysterious malady, they learn to survive in a savage land where unwary travelers fall prey to strange and terrifying creatures. To save Lucambra and many other worlds from a devouring darkness, they must join forces with some unlikely allies. Only in losing all they have ever known and loved do they discover the faithfulness of Gaelathane.

Ideal for ages eight and older, Torsils in Time is an inspirational fantasy tale filled with adventure, riddles and mystery.

My Thoughts:


“From ‘here-and-where’ to ‘there and then’…”

This is the explanation of the terms “wherren” and “therren”, and best describes the scope of  William D. Burt’s novel Torrsils In Time.  The concept  of torrsils and time travel were introduced in Burt’s first novel, King of Trees, and expands in scope and depth in the second novel of the series.  

 The characters that were introduced in King of Trees find themselves in dire circumstances rather suddenly.  However, what they learn as they linger in an in-between state of being is the deep truth of God’s Word, “Behold, I am turning all things hurtful in your lives to the good, weaving the dark threads among the light into a living fabric of grace and glory.”

Rolin and Marlis experience a very trying adventure in this novel.  Over and over again they must choose to trust the King of Trees in the midst of very uncertain and dangerous circumstances.  They meet a very isolated family during their ventures, and are allowed to share sacrificially with them and bring them to a point of truth.  The results?  Well, you’ll have to read the story to find out!  Believe me, you won’t be disappointed!!

This is my second novel experience from Burt’s series, and it is a very exciting, very applicable teaching tool for young adults.  I firmly believe that many young people will be ministered to very powerfully through this series!  I’ve enjoyed my time wherren and therren!!

About the Author:


William D. Burt is best known as the author of the "King of the Trees" Christian fantasy series. Having spent most of his teenage years adventuring in Middle Earth, the author is an avid fantasy fan. His first allegorical fantasy title, The King of the Trees, came out in 1998 (WinePress). Bowing to reader demand, he has expanded the series to include a total of seven titles to date, with more to follow. He has also embarked upon a new young-adult adventure series featuring prehistoric creatures in a modern setting.

While still in high school, Burt began his writing career editing his father's popular identification guides, Edible and Poisonous Plants of the Western/Eastern States. As an Assistant Professor in the Special Education Department at Western Oregon University, he served as a successful grant-writer and program coordinator. 

Burt holds a B.S. in English from Lewis and Clark College and an M.S. from Western Oregon University in Deaf Education. In addition to writing novels, he works as an RID-certified American Sign Language interpreter with over thirty years' experience. His interests include reading, foreign languages and mycology. He is married with two grown children.


 

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Letting God of Supermom by Daisy "Dr. Mommy" Sutherland

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Publisher: Siloam (August 7, 2012)

***Special thanks to Althea Thompson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Dr. Daisy Sutherland is the founder and CEO of Dr. Mommy, LLC. She is a doctor of chiropractic by profession, wife, and mom to five children, whom she has homeschooled for the past twelve years. She hosts a weekly Blog Talk Radio show called Family Talk and is the featured parenting expert on Mom Talk Radio, a nationally syndicated radio show that airs on more than fifty stations, reaches 50,000 moms, and has been recognized in The Oprah Magazine, Women’s Day, USA Today, and Parenting. Women all over the country have benefitted from “Dr. Mommy’s” health, parenting, and career management tips and godly advice. She is the voice and advocate for every mom and says she is blessed to be able to help so many.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

This guide will include time-management and organization tips, how-tos for handling stress, nutrition and general wellness advice, parenting and relationship tools, and ways to stay spiritually refreshed and highly productive without losing it! Dr. Mommy will also share her best tips and tricks from her personal experience of being a homeschooling, CEO mom.



Product Details:
List Price: $15.99
Paperback: 256 pages
Publisher: Siloam (August 7, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616384638
ISBN-13: 978-1616384630



AND NOW...A SAMPLE (Click on pages to see them better):


Tuesday, September 25, 2012

It's Not Over by Ricardo Sanchez - READ THE FIRST CHAPTER!!

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Passio (September 18, 2012)

***Special thanks to Althea Thompson for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Ricardo Sanchez is a Grammy-nominated, Dove–Award winning, Atlanta-based worship leader and Christian recording artist. He is known nationally and internationally as a singer, notable songwriter, conference speaker, and one of the nation’s most preeminent worship leaders. Ricardo served as the worship leader to Pastor Jentezen Franklin for more than four years prior to launching out fulltime with the mission to help churches around the world under the vision of Windows 2 Worship. As a frequent guest at his home church, Free Chapel, Ricardo stays connected and grounded to the local body. Ricardo has recently launched Ricardo Ministries as the practical outlet to meet the physical and spiritual needs of the lost, hurting, and those without hope. Ricardo and his wife, Jennette, are committed to raising their three sons while continuing to partner with the local church.

Visit the author's website.
Visit the author's facebook page.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Grammy-nominated, Dove Award–winning recording artist shares the story of his family’s personal tragedy to tell readers, “It’s not over.”

Have you ever noticed life has a way of beating you down? Whether it’s the day-to-day hustle or a tragic incident, it sometimes seems as if there’s a force that wants to take you out of the game. Worship leader Ricardo Sanchez has been there. After writing the song “It’s Not Over,” he came face-to-face with one of those moments when a tragic accident left his son’s life hanging in the balance.





Product Details:
List Price: $15.99
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Passio (September 18, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616388331
ISBN-13: 978-1616388331



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


tHe Pressing oF LiFe

“I need Thee, O I need Thee. Every hour I need Thee . . . ”1


Please put all tray tables and seat backs in their full and upright position.” The flight attendants were preparing the cabin for landing. As a traveling
minister and musician, I’ve done the flying routine countless times. Making our final descent into Jacksonville, Florida, was the beginning stop on a several-weeks-long ministry trip. Florida was a short flight from Atlanta, and I had just kissed my boys good-bye and enjoyed a nice drive to the airport with my wife. Jennette enjoys occasionally driving me to the airport, and I enjoy having her drive with me. It often provides a few minutes together in the midst of our busy life.
As my plane touched down in Jacksonville, I began to


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gather my belongings and reach for my cell phone, as was my normal procedure upon approaching the runway. The pilot touched down, and I powered on my phone while the plane began to taxi toward the gate. What happened next was sur- real and hit me like a ton of bricks. Immediately when my phone powered up, texts began to flash on my screen: “911— CALL HOME,” “URGENT—CALL ME,” “Josiah has been hurt—call ASAP.” My head began to spin as I was bom- barded with desperate texts and phone messages. The voice mail from Jennette still rings in my head today: “Josiah is being life-flighted to Scottish Rite Children’s Hospital. The doctors are saying the worst. Please call.” Her message was calm but interrupted with weeping. I felt as though someone had punched me in the gut. “What? Why? How could this be happening to my son? This has to be a horrible nightmare. What possibly could have happened?”
Have you ever noticed life has a way of throwing you curve- balls when you least expect it? If you’ve lived long enough, I’m sure you’ve had a few experiences of your own where you weren’t sure how all the pieces were going to fit together and how the brokenness would all make sense. Paul refers to run- ning the “race of life” in 1 Corinthians 9:24. The Message Bible says the words “run to win.”
How do you run to win when you feel the very wind has been knocked out of you? How do you find the endurance to finish when the pain seems overbearing? Maybe you’ve watched a spouse walk out on you. Maybe you’ve lost your life savings in the faltering economy. Maybe you’ve received a tragic report from your doctor. Maybe you’re watching your children make decisions that are pushing them from the


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things of God. Whatever it is, if you’ve lived life, you’ve expe- rienced pain. You’ve experienced what I call “the pressing”— those moments when you proclaim in faith, “It’s not over,” though everything in the natural may look and feel exactly the opposite. This was most certainly one of those moments for my family and me.
Though oftentimes could be confused as “de-pressing,” I believe this season I refer to as “the pressing” can be a strength and step of victory if you extract the life principles my wife and I recently had to walk through with our nine-year-old son, Josiah. You are called to be an overcomer and walk a vic- torious life, but sometimes the practicality of walking victori- ously in the midst of pressure can feel overbearing.
My hope is, as you read this book, you will learn to harvest strength, build faith and confidence, and complete your jour- neys with joy, trust, and a strong testimony to share with the world around you. I believe the prophetic voice for this gen- eration is the message of “it’s not over,” the message that even though things might look dismal, God is still on the throne and wants to be involved in your situation. The Bible says in Isaiah 59:19, “When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against him” (kjv). Whatever your season may look like right now, remember it’s just a season and God can turn it around.

Allow the Press to emPower

As a young boy growing up, my father was a command ser- geant major in the United States Army. It was imperative that his uniform looked immaculate at all times. I’ll never forget watching my mother prepare his clothes for him. She would


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take a pass over his shirt with her hot iron. Again and again the hot iron would roll over and over the shirt until all the wrinkles were “pressed” out. I think life has a way of “pressing” on us. The Bible says, “We are pressed on every side by trou- bles, but we are not crushed” (2 Cor. 4:8, nlt). Oftentimes in the midst of the pressing, the heat and the pressures of life sometimes feel overbearing as if you can no longer take the weight of the burdens. But if you surrender to the process of being pressed, I believe you will come out at the end just like my father’s shirts—wrinkle-free! There’s a perfecting and an empowering that can occur during “the pressing.”
Walking off the plane that horrible day, I remember feeling as if something had just sucked all the life from me. I quickly returned the 911-calls I had received, and I came to learn that Josiah was at a friend’s house swimming in their pool with his older brother, Ricardo II, and several other children. The boys were playing, as boys do, and doing tricks into the shallow end of the friend’s pool.
Josiah is a lover of life. He enjoys laughing, but he really enjoys getting people to laugh. All the kids were doing stunts, each attempting to outdo the previous boy’s effort. In an attempt to get the biggest laugh, Josiah decided to dive, hands at his side, through an inflatable pool ring in the shallow end of a swimming pool. Underestimating the pool depth, Josiah dove and took direct impact to his head, causing a complete loss of feeling in his body. Josiah was pulled to the pool deck, crying out in pain and in fear. He knew something was seri- ously wrong.
Here I was sitting in an airport hundreds of miles away from my family . . . hundreds of miles away from Josiah, feeling


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completely inadequate and unable to help. Honestly I felt like
I wanted to punch something. I was upset and angry and con- fused all at once. As a man I wanted to cover and protect my family. It brings a sense of honor. But there was nothing I could do at that present time while sitting in the airport. I couldn’t be with my wife as she had to watch the helicopter fly off with our son. I couldn’t be with Josiah as he was alone with the paramedics hearing words such as, “He’ll never walk again.” I couldn’t touch and hug my baby or my other sons through the phone line. So many thoughts went through my head: “God, I’m here serving You, and this is what hap- pens? Where are You, God? Why weren’t You there to protect Josiah?”
I’d like to tell you how heroic I was in my faith and how as a man of God I immediately took control of the situation, but it simply wasn’t the case. I had taken a blow right where it hurt the most. Something had happened to one of my babies. All of the natural signs and reports coming in were shouting that my son’s life was over. I’ve experienced some pressing in my life, but nothing compares to dealing with an injury or loss to one of your children. I was somehow wishing I could take the place of my son and bear the pain he was going through.

Don’t Allow the Pressing to Be PAr Alyzing

My family shared an experience several months prior to this event with Josiah that triggered a similar physical reaction for me as I was trying to process the reports I was receiving about my son. The past summer our family had spent some time off the central coast of California. We intentionally were trying to harvest every opportunity to make memories with our sons


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and find new adventures on every trip. With that spirit in mind we decided to take a canoeing trip off the coastline, hoping to find a much-talked-about infamous local’s spot with underwater caves that were known to have incredible sea life and beauty.
The only day we had to take the trip was a bit windy and a little choppy on the sea. Additionally, the water temperature was only in the low fifties. The ideal conditions would have been completely still, no waves and no wind. But we were determined to be adventurous and conquer our quest to find these caves. In order to get out into the ocean, we first had to vigorously row beyond the breaking waves, which appeared to grow in fierceness and height as we watched. I was partnered with my oldest son, Ricardo. Neither of us had ever canoed before, much less out in the ocean. We had to time our entry into the water perfectly in between each breaking wave. We had to be synchronized, focused, and quick. The canoe had to be pointed straight into the face of the oncoming ocean. Any angle would flip our boat.
The first wave came, and we successfully made it through. Victory! Wave after wave was crashing against our canoe. Now about fifty yards out into the ocean, we had tackled most of the boat-flipping waves. As my son began to notice how far offshore we had come and how close we were to sea otters and sea life swimming around us, the fear that we could easily be in the water began to overpower his strength to stay focused. The next wave that came took our boat over with it.
The fifty-three-degree water immediately hit my chest, sucking every breath out as a vapor. The icy chill made every movement more intense and more painful. A thousand things


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were going through my head. At six feet, five inches, I still couldn’t touch the bottom of the ocean. I was way beyond the kelp bed that served as the barrier for sharks. My son was stuck under the canoe. Waves were hitting us, and I liter- ally couldn’t breath because the water was so cold. I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio in the closing scenes of the Titanic when he was stuck in the iceberg-laden water, struggling for every breath to communicate. The fact was, we had lost our bal- ance. A wave flipped our world upside down, and my ability to recover was limited by my conditions. That’s the exact pic- ture the enemy wants to put in your head when you encounter
a “pressing” in life. But you can’t allow the pressing to be paralyzing.
Now here I am sitting in terminal A in the Jacksonville airport just waiting for a way to get to my son, feeling like I did when I tipped into the icy ocean, but this time I’m not in the water. Literally, I felt as if something were hindering my breathing, almost as if something heavy was sitting on
my chest. So heavy, in fact, even speaking was laborious. Something had flipped my boat, but this time it wasn’t literal. This time I had no control. This time I couldn’t see the wave coming. This time there was no instruction course on how to get back into the canoe safely.
Medical science actually documents a physical reaction to sorrow. The body actually experiences a decrease in the pro- duction of white blood cells, which act as the body’s defenders, fighting off colds and infections.2 Ironically, isn’t that exactly what our enemy would like to see happen with us? When the pressure and struggles of life press against us, wouldn’t the enemy like us to quit on our purpose? Quit on our dreams?


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Quit on our determination to finish life strong? Spiritually, sorrow weakens our defenses and attempts to take the hope out of our faith. Sorrow will try and steal your fight!
Here I was sitting in the airport trying to find the quickest way back to Josiah, feeling as though I couldn’t breath, hearing the words “They’re saying the worst” ring in my head and not knowing what the outcome was going to be. I didn’t have a choir with me to help me begin to worship. There wasn’t a pastor or a prayer line I could walk up to for support. All of the normal support systems were not available. All I had was the red carpet in terminal A of the airport, and I fell to my knees and began to cry out to God. I didn’t care who could hear me. I didn’t care who was watching. I didn’t care what I looked like or what other people thought of me. I was crying out for the life of my son. I was experiencing a pressing, and I knew I needed to press back! Though it felt like forty-five years, there were about forty-five minutes where I was sitting
in the airport, not knowing if my son would ever walk again, trying to find a chartered flight to the hospital and believing and praying for a miracle for my son.
I can only imagine how God felt as He watched Jesus suffer on the cross for you and me. No matter how many altar calls I have given, the words “His only begotten Son” had new meaning for me that day in the airport.

Allow the Press to refine your PurPose

I love stories of fighters, people who overcome great odds and finish strong. That’s what life is all about—fighting through the seasons of pressing and coming out stronger on the other side. My desire is that you take this book and read it to build


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your faith through your season of pressing and that you find the courage to push through the pain and reach the victory on the other side. I think, as people, sometimes the biggest lie we can buy into is the one that says, “It’s over. This is it! My time is done. I’m too old. I don’t have the resources. Nobody’s looking for someone like me. I’ve lost someone I loved. How can I continue?” Just because you’re experiencing a pressing doesn’t mean your purpose has passed. Oftentimes your pressing is refining your purpose, and you must fight through the pressing to reach the prize. Philippians 3:14 says, “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (kjv). The process is oftentimes painful, but God can take what seems to be a mess and make it beautiful. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.” We can’t always see the full picture or how God is going to work it out.
Although “the press” can be painful at times, sometimes the sweetest and best things are produced only after being pressed. Take, for a small example, the process of harvesting Mediterranean olive oil, one of the best and most flavorful oils around. The Mediterranean olive tree must first mature for several years before even producing olives worthy of this oil. Careful attention is paid to proper pruning in order to produce quality oil and the most abundant olives per branch. It requires ten pounds of olives to produce only four cups of oil! Once the olives are ripe, the harvesters must vigor- ously shake the trees to drop the fruit and begin the pressing quickly, so as to not lose any flavor or damage the quality in



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any way. The olives are then crushed, matted, pressed, and heated to squeeze any and all oil from the olive, and only then is it ready to be consumed. You know oil is symbolic of the Holy Spirit. If you’ve allowed yourself to mature, the pressing could be squeezing a sweet, flavorful anointing from your life!
I played some basketball growing up and continue to love the sport. I enjoy watching my sons play as well as following the NBA. You know your team is really determined to win when the coach calls for a full-court press. That means every guy is assigned to a player on the other team, and the ultimate goal is to defensively stick to your guy like glue. Wherever the player goes, the defense is right there with their hands in their face. Normally defense is played from half-court and back, but during a press, the defense extends the length of the entire court. Interestingly a full-court press is implemented only when the opposing team is behind or the game is seri- ously close. The other team knows you have a chance of win- ning and the goal of the press is to stop you from winning. The goal is to wear out the opposing team. The goal is to get in the other team’s head mentally. When life applies a full- court press, the goal is to wear you out! Don’t get confused and think the game is over. It’s just a press!

the Press requires the Anointing

I’m reminded of two stories in 2 Kings 4 with the prophet Elisha and two different women who experienced two different types of pressing. The first woman found herself newly widowed with no life insurance money and a pile of bills to pay, and her husband’s creditor pursuing her sons to be his slaves to cover her debts. Listen to what the Bible says:


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One day the wife of a man from the guild of prophets called out to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead. You well know what a good man he was, devoted to God. And now the man to whom he was in debt is on his way to collect by taking my two children as slaves.”
—2 Kings 4:1, The Message

This lady was literally broke and, I’m sure, emotionally broken. She just lost her husband, which represented her present, and was about to lose her sons, which represented her future. Everything she knew to be her security was removed in a single day. She was pressed on all sides. I’m sure she thought life was over for her. As she approached Elisha, this is what he said to her:

“I wonder how I can be of help. Tell me, what do you have in your house?” “Nothing,” she said. “Well, I do have a little oil.”
—2 Kings 4:2, The Message

Here we are back to the oil! This lady has no real social status to speak of and is now in jeopardy of losing the only thing she has left, her sons. She is pressed on all sides only to find out when she was squeezed she has a little oil. She’s got a little anointing. She was squeezed and life was pressing her in every direction, but in the midst of the squeeze she discovered all she needed was the Holy Spirit!
Now fast-forward in 2 Kings to the story immediately fol- lowing the widow’s story, and you come to 2 Kings 4:8 with a woman referred to as the Shunammite woman. Interestingly enough, the Shunammite is referred to as a rich and influ- ential woman. She was obviously the opposite of the widow


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woman, and yet they both encountered a “pressing” in life that required the anointing.
The Bible says the Shunammite took notice that the prophet Elisha was a man of God. She and her husband designated a special “guest room” in their house for Elisha to stay as he
would often pass through town to minister. Obviously proac- tive, this lady was quite the community organizer, I’m sure. She was the type of individual who had answers before prob- lems even appeared. She was the lady who had dinner on the table every night, was involved in her community, volunteered at her church, always returned her Blockbuster movies on time, and never had a hair out of place! She probably had her life figured out, a solid IRA for retirement, and donated blood at the Red Cross at least two times a year. You get the picture. The Shunammite had her act together. Because of her kind- ness and generosity Elisha asks her one day what he can do in exchange for her hospitality. Listen to their conversation:

Then he said to his servant Gehazi, “Tell the Shunammite woman I want to see her.” He called her and she came to him. Through Gehazi Elisha said, “You’ve gone far beyond the call of duty in taking care of us; what can we do for you? Do you have a request we can bring to the king or to the commander of the army?” She replied, “Nothing. I’m secure and satisfied in my family.” Elisha conferred with Gehazi: “There’s got to be something we can do for her. But what?” Gehazi said, “Well, she has no son, and her husband
is an old man.”
—2 Kings 4:13–14, The Message




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Elisha prophesies that the woman would have a son within a year’s time, and, sure enough, she gives birth to a son. Now you must imagine what this boy meant to the Shunammite. She was never supposed to have children and thought it was impossible because her husband was too old to have babies, and yet miraculously she receives a son, who became her entire world. Her son was the manifestation of her promise—a visible sign of God’s favor and faithfulness in her life.
Several years later her son was working in the field with his father, and he gets a headache. The father sends his son back to his mother, and the Bible says the Shunammite’s son died in her arms at noon. Her promise, her gift, her legacy died in her arms. I find it interesting that the Bible mentions the time as being noon. Noon is the middle of the day—the break between morning and evening, a shift from the sun rising to the sun setting. Noon is symbolic of the change of time. The pressing always signifies a change in the time or season.
The Bible says the Shunammite took her son, went and laid him on the bed of the prophet, and asked her husband to get the car ready, metaphorically speaking. Listen:

She took him up and laid him on the bed of the man of God, shut him in alone, and left. She then called her husband, “Get me a servant and a donkey so I can go to the Holy Man; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
—2 Kings 4:21, The Message

Just like the widow woman referenced earlier, the Shunammite knew she needed the anointing during her time of pressing. She may not have had it in her house, but she knew where to find it, and she knew she couldn’t waste time


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getting to it. You may have strayed from God. Maybe you’re not as close as you once were. Maybe you grew up in the church but you really haven’t pursued a relationship with Jesus. Maybe the business of life has gotten in the way and a pressing in your life has you looking for the anointing. Just like the Shunamite, you can always find the anointing. The pressing requires the anointing!
Once the Shunammite reached Elisha, I think her response is similar to our natural inclination as human beings. Listen to what the woman says as she reaches the prophet:

Then she spoke up: “Did I ask you for a son, master? Didn’t I tell you, ‘Don’t tease me with false hopes’?”
—2 Kings 4:28, The Message

I believe what she was saying was, “God, how could You let my dreams die? How could this make sense? A promise You made to me has ended in disaster.” Everything in front of the Shunammite indicated it was over. Finality. No hope. Gone. But here is what we have to understand about the pressing. The pressing, though we can’t determine the outcome, requires that we press back!
Look at how the Shunammite presses back when Elisha wants to send his servant Gehazi to pray for her son:

He ordered Gehazi, “Don’t lose a minute—grab my staff and run as fast as you can. If you meet anyone, don’t even take time to greet him, and if anyone greets you, don’t even answer. Lay my staff across the boy’s face.” The boy’s mother said, “As sure as God lives




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and you live, you’re not leaving me behind.” And so
Gehazi let her take the lead, and followed behind.
—2 Kings 4:29–30, The Message

The Shunammite was basically saying, “Listen, I’m not letting go of my promise. I’m not letting go of my legacy and my dream. God spoke this to me, and I’m clinging onto it with every bit of fiber in my body.”
There are some people who get confused and quit on their purpose when life presses against them. You must under- stand that the pressing will purify the product! Those who quit in the midst of the process and misunderstand the season in which they stand have a tendency to allow bitterness to take root in their lives and hearts. Hold fast in the season of pressing and understand that God is faithful, despite what things look like in the natural!

Posture yourself towArD the Press

Have you ever started a new workout routine? If you haven’t worked out in a while, it is a bit intimidating to walk into a facility such as Gold’s Gym or Family Fitness, especially if you are working out in the weight-lifting area. The bulging pectorals and oversized biceps could immediately discourage you, if you’re just beginning to work out and your muscles are less than developed. But I’ve learned it is much easier if you posture yourself toward the press.
As I mentioned earlier in the canoeing story with my son and me, in order to get out into the ocean past the breaking waves, we had to point our canoe straight into the oncoming waves. Any angle would have flipped our boat. So it is with



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life. It might be difficult and a bit intimidating, like starting a new workout, but you have to face the pressing head-on. You have to walk into the press with confidence knowing your goal is the other side.
I’ve been told life can be equated to a series of steps ranging from one to ten. Consider the fundamentals of life as steps you ascend as you learn and grow with each new step taking you higher. Oftentimes step ten is the pinnacle of your achieve- ments. But as you go through life, climbing the ladder looking to achieve number ten, something inevitable happens. Once you conquer the number ten, you start at one again. It might be twenty-one or thirty-one or eighty-one, but it’s the same principles of your original number one.
How frustrating, you might say. It’s still the same funda- mentals of your very first one. Naturally you want growth and development and new levels. The principles for each step remain the same and the fundamentals remain the same, but on each new level you have a little more depth and a little more influence. As you grow, learn, and develop, you might reach a new level, but you are always cycling one through ten with the same fundamentals.
When you recognize and understand the cycle and seasons of your life, the press becomes nothing more than a workout and a time of training and conditioning. Press on with confi- dence. You have a race to finish!
Here my wife, Jennette, gives her account of when she walked into the hospital the day of the accident:

I came rushing into the hospital to find Josiah. The children’s hospital was about a forty-minute drive



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from my house, but I made it that day in about thirty minutes by the grace of God. A friend was driving me, and I remember just sitting in the passenger seat, crying and praying, “God, please don’t let my baby die. God, please let my baby walk and lead a normal life.” I had received a few phone calls from some dear pastor friends who prayed with me over the phone and spoke life over Josiah and his body. The feeling was surreal to run into the hospital and hear Josiah was checked in under the name “Trauma Juneau.” Whenever a severe patient is admitted or transported via life flight, the hospital assigns a trauma name to the patient for quick and easy admission. I was looking for Josiah, my baby, but the hospital staff knew him as “Trauma Juneau.”
I was quickly escorted into the emergency room and saw Josiah lying on the cold hospital table. His shirt had been cut from him, and several medical staff members were all around running tests and evaluating his condition. He was stabilized on a medical board and was supported with a neck brace. The first thing I wanted to do was touch him and look into his eyes and let him see I was there with him. It was heart wrenching to put him into the helicopter and hear him say, “Mommy, please don’t leave me,” but there were restrictions on the helicopter and there wasn’t enough room for another adult, so I had to release
him to the flight crew. Time was of the essence. Josiah’s eyes were still. He wasn’t crying, but looking into them you could tell he understood the severity of the situation. Despite Josiah’s concern, there seemed to be a peace in his eyes.



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The doctors hadn’t given us any indication as to Josiah’s evaluation yet. He was responding well and moving his extremities, but nothing was determined and no results had been released to us concerning his long-term condition. Family, friends, and pastors we knew from all across the country were praying for Josiah and believing for total restoration. We believed he was going to be OK, but we just wanted to hear something from the doctors. We just wanted to hear Josiah would lead a normal life.

Jennette and I were standing on the only thing we had, which was our faith, but waiting to hear a report from the doctor was one of the hardest things we’ve had to do.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Jeff Petherick Discusses New Book - Grace Like Rain

AUTHOR JEFF PETHERICK DISCUSSES NEW BOOK ON CORNERSTONE TV'S FOCUS 4 

Grace Like Rain Shares Gripping Stories of People Surprised By Grace and Changed Forever




NASHVILLE, Tenn.(September 18, 2012) -Author, philanthropist and financial expert Jeff Petherick recently appeared as a guest on Cornerstone Television's weekday flagship program, Focus 4. During the one-hour segment, host Tim Burgan interviewed Petherick about his book, Grace Like Rain: Soaking Up God's Best, Even When We're At Our Worst, which was released July 17 by Elk Lake Publishing and New Day Christian Distributors.
"We live in a society where we are 'driven' to success," says Tim Burgan, producer/host at Cornerstone TV Network. "The challenge as people of faith is to not allow the 'driven-ness' of our lives to control us, but to realize that the mercy and grace of God can overwhelm us and grant us greater success, greater joy, and greater peace than our own 'driven-ness' ever could have. Jeff Petherick's Grace like Rain is a book of hope, revealing through stories that the real things we are seeking don't come out of a driven-ness to be perfect or to please God, but an understanding that God already loves us and that His grace will accomplish more in us and through us than we could ever imagine."
Since the book's release, Petherick has been promoting the title across the United States through numerous media outlets. His guest segment on Focus 4 is the author's most recent TV appearance.
"It was wonderful being on the show. The more people I meet like Tim Burgan on this book-writing adventure, the more I recognize that so many followers of Jesus Christ understand grace — what it means for them personally, and what it means to show it to others in their lives," Petherick says. The more we understand grace, the closer we get to God's heart, bringing us greater love, peace and joy and making us true instruments for hope in this troubled world."
Petherick's interview currently can be viewed in the Cornerstone TV archives at ctvn.org/programs-focus4.asp.
Grace Like Rain, which follows the release of Petherick's publishing debut, Wavelength: Tuning In To God's Voice In A World of Static, examines the most powerful and perhaps most misunderstood power in the universe — God's grace — through real-life accounts about a God who did the unthinkable to save the unlovable.
Throughout Grace Like Rain, Petherick writes about grace in action, how God wants people to take the grace they have received and pass it on to others. In the book, he shares gripping stories of people surprised by grace and changed forever.
"Grace is transformative, not only to our lives individually, but to those around us. When we begin to understand this and receive it as a gift, we become empowered to show that grace to others in our lives," says Petherick, a successful investment manager, who has been featured as a financial expert by the likes of CNBC and Forbes. Petherick also is a philanthropist who is in demand as a Christian speaker and teacher.
"Jesus told us to be 'light.' However, light without grace is like a light bulb without a filament," Petherick continues. "We will have no ability to illuminate truth without the power of love and grace. Grace Like Rain helps us see how God has used the brokenness and sinfulness of ordinary people to transform them into true light bearers for Him."
Grace Like Rain is published by Elk Lake Publishing and is distributed exclusively to the CBA market through New Day Christian Distributors. For more information about Petherick, Grace Like Rain or Elk Lake Publishing, visit ElkLakePublishing.com.
Photo caption: Jeff Petherick, left, is interviewed by Tim Burgan, right, on the set of Cornerstone TV's Focus 4 program. (Cornerstone TV Network photo)
Jeff Petherick:
In his writing debut, Wavelength, Petherick shared with readers his stressful world as a rising star mutual fund manager in the 1990s, often finding himself in the role of expert for such weighty financial news organizations as The Wall Street JournalBarron's, CNBC, Forbes and Kiplinger's Personal Finance. He went on to become founding partner in NorthPointe Capital, an institutional investment management firm with $1.5 billion in assets under management.
Following a life-altering encounter with Jesus Christ, Petherick embarked on many adventures with God, putting feet to his faith in such ventures as co-founding Impact India 360, which in the last eight years has built an orphanage, several schools, an elderly care facility, a church and a hospital.
Impact India 360 also offers college scholarships to village children and is involved in church-planting efforts throughout the region.
Petherick's work with Impact India 360 recently was featured in The Dancer, an award-winning short film garnering more than 15 awards, including First Place, Documentary Short, at the 2011 Los Angeles International Film Festival and Best of Fest/Grand Jury Award (out of 1650 films) at the 2011 San Francisco International Festival of Short Films. The Dancer shows life through the eyes of Satish Kumar, an 11-year-old orphan boy in a remote village in India. After the death of Kumar's mother and abandonment by his father, the youth now lives with 200 other children at the Dowlaiswaram, India, orphanage funded by Impact India 360.
Since beginning his walk with the Lord, Petherick's many adventures have included leading high school and college students on multiple mission trips to minister to the indigenous people of Iquitos, Peru, in the Amazon Rainforest.
Petherick is married to his high school sweetheart, Gina. They live in Michigan and have two children and one grandchild.
Cornerstone TV and Focus 4:
As Cornerstone TV's flagship program, Focus 4 is a five days per week, one-hour program challenging its audience to bring the saving power of Jesus Christ to our culture and mobilize believers to utilize their gifts as dynamic witnesses for our Lord.
The show tapes at Cornerstone TV's studios in Wall, Pa. For more information, visit ctvn.org.




Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Midnight in Aisle 7 by Jay Lowder

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!



Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Passio (September 4, 2012)

***Special thanks to Althea Thompson of Charisma House for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jay Lowder is the founder and head of Jay Lowder Harvest Ministries based in Wichita Falls, Texas. His engaging and contemporary style gives him an ability to connect with adults and students alike. Jay has been featured on at least fifteen major networks, including The Discovery Channel, ABC, Fox, ABC Family, Daystar, and TBN. Jay and his wife, Melissa, have three children.

Visit the author's website.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:



True stories of random, unscripted encounters with God

Every day, God reveals Himself in unexpected ways in the lives of ordinary people. While religion has tried to confine Him to church buildings and cotton candy sermons, He continues to expose Himself in unlikely places to unlikely people.

This book describes these encounters using short compelling stories that show how common people from all walks of life have encountered this relationship that brings significance to life. Stories range from an uplifting insight prompted by a question from Jay's daughter, to stories of tragedy, forgiveness, and healing from lives of addiction, abuse, and prostitution.


Product Details:
List Price: $14.99

Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Passio (September 4, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616386088
ISBN-13: 978-1616386085



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:


Prison  Break




I Have never  been sentenced to prison or jail,  but I have been locked up  many  times. My cell  has  been lonely, dark, isolating, and  cold.  I have  met  a lot of prisoners
just  like  me.  It gives  me  some  comfort knowing I am not the  only  one.   It is  always easier to  justify  failure  when you  have  a companion.
Some  of my  former  cellmates could easily be  detected as  offenders,  but  many   others are  not  so  easy   to  iden- tify. Some  reveal their  chains through sarcastic and  bitter words; others do not have  to speak. The lines and  expres- sions  on their  faces tell  what  words dare  not say, their countenance revealing the  deepest and  most  private suffering.
People in  prison respond to  incarceration in  different ways.   Some   accept their   sentences,  while others spend every  waking moment trying to  find  a  way  of escape. I have   visited numerous  prisons  and   jails   where  I  have been amazed to meet  people who  say they  never want  to



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leave. Prison  has  become the  only  way  of life  they  know and  the  only  place they  have  respect and  friends.  They say  they  have  nothing on  the  outside to  go  back  to  and have  become comfortable locked up.
I guess if you  stay in any place long  enough, even  when it is the  wrong one,  it can  begin to feel  like  home. Maybe this  is why  the  number of people who  leave  prison only to return is sky high. Men have  tendencies: the  things we should not do come  naturally, while the things we should do  are  so  hard   to  get  done. Just  because you  take  the man  out  of the  big  house doesn’t mean you’ve taken the big  house out  of the  man.
On   the   other  hand,  the   prisoner  consumed  with escaping does  so because he is dying—not a literal death, but  the  death of  his  will  and  hope for  a  better life.  It is  the  death that  comes when your   heart gives  up  any chance for change or  to live  a life  of purpose. Everyone dies, but  only  a few  truly  live.  These  captives want  more than  the  air  they  breathe; they  want  a life  that  truly  has meaning.
There   are   many   types   of  prisons.  Some   have   literal bars  and  fences,  while others use  emotions, habits, and thoughts to hold  its captives. So which prison held me? It is the  prison of rejection. It can  be found in the  hearts of broken sons,  discarded wives, lost  teens, abused women, and  neglected children as  well   as  the  successful,  prom- inent,  educated,  and   religious.  People  find   themselves locked in the  prison of rejection because they  committed one  of two  crimes: either they  were unwilling to  accept others, or they  were not  accepted themselves. In my case
it was . . . wait,  let  me  first explain.





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t

I was  born  and  raised in north Texas  and  live  there now. Although there are  many  places in the  state  that  are  beau- tiful,  they  are not here in the far northern part  (no matter what  the  locals say). I have  spent the  lion’s share of my life  on  the  road. I have  visited every  state  in  the  United States except four,  and  I have  seen quite a bit of the  Lone Star  State. Yet I have  never witnessed as  many  unusual sights as I have  here.
One  particular sight   that  has  intrigued me  for  some time  is  a  tiny  jail  in  a  town  of  less  than  one  thousand people. It is  said  to  be  one  of  the  oldest jails  in  Texas and   is  located  on  the   highway between  Wichita   Falls and   Lubbock,  Texas.   If  you   have   ever   seen the  movie Lonesome Dove (considered a masterpiece here in Texas), then  you  can imagine this being the  jail  where Blue  Duck was  held before he  jumped out  the  second-story window to his  death. The  jail  is over  one  hundred years  old  and easily looks  twice  that.
Out  front  stands an  old  tree. After its  leaves fall,  the crusty, crooked branches resemble the  hands of an  evil witch   reaching  toward the  walls. The  jail  has  sleeping quarters that  will  house four  men  upstairs and  the  same number of women downstairs. It was  even  built  with  a trap  door  for “hanging” offenders. There  is a famous story of three inmates who  murdered the  on-duty sheriff  in an attempt to escape. The three were quickly reapprehended then  swiftly  tried and  convicted.
I passed by this  old  jail  every  few months in my travels, and  something about it always jerked at my curious mind. Although I felt a pull  to stop and  check it out,  I was always too  busy   to  break down and   do  so  until one   moonlit


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morning at  about twelve thirty. Two  friends  were riding with  me  on  our  way  back  home from  an  event  when we drove  past  the  jail.  We still  had  a couple hours more  to drive, but  when I looked out  the  window and  saw  the outline of the  jail,  I could not  resist.
I made an illegal U-turn,  parked out  front,  and  walked through a  door   that  was  faintly   ajar.   A slightly startled woman sitting at an  old  wooden desk  looked up  quickly and  asked if she  could help. I began to explain my  long- standing fascination with  the old jail.  I told  her my friends and  I were passing through, and  I could no  longer resist the urge to stop.  This jailer was a welcoming woman who surprised me  when she  recognized my name.
“I thought you  looked familiar.  I know   who  you  are. This weekend I heard a radio advertisement about the Outdoor Extravaganza you  were speaking at and  thought it would be  something my  youngest would enjoy doing. He  loves  hunting and  fishing, and  we  spent yesterday at your  event  in Lubbock.”
I thought it  was  highly unlikely that  this  was  a  coin- cidence, and  I felt  a chill  sprint up  my  spine. It seemed too  perfect  after  passing by  all  these times  that  I would just  happen to  stop  the  day  after  this  woman heard my name on  the  radio. She  cordially invited my  friends  and me  to glance around the  jail  as she  explained its history. Because there were no  women locked up,  she  let  us  see the  female quarters located on the  bottom floor.
After  about ten  minutes of small talk  and  gander we were about to leave. When  I asked how  many  men  were upstairs, a  strange  expression  washed  over   the   jailer’s face.  Then  she  asked, “Would  you  like  to go up and  speak to  the  inmates? They  have   very  few  visitors, and   even




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Prison Break



though it is late,  I think  they  would be glad  to see  a new face  and  hear  what  you  have  to say.”
I told  her  I would be glad  to talk  with  them  so long  as I did  not interrupt their  sleep. As soon  as I got the  words out  of my  mouth, she  grabbed her  antique-looking  keys and  motioned for all  three of us to follow  her.
Upon   climbing  the   old   staircase,  we   were  immedi- ately  met  by a curious group of four  wide-awake  men. I introduced myself  and  my  comrades, shook their  hands, and  began to  explain how  we  ended up  visiting the  jail. All four  of the  men  crowded near  the  bars  and  listened intently to every  word  I spoke.
First impressions last forever. Two of the men  stood  out to me  instantly. One  was  a gregarious Hispanic guy  with a  big  personality, and  the  other was  a young, quiet guy who  looked like  he  still  belonged in  high  school. I tried to offer  encouragement by telling them  we  all  make mis- takes  we  can  learn from.  I discussed how  the  crime that landed them  in  trouble could be  the  catalyst that  trans- forms  their  lives  for the  better if they  are  willing to own it and  learn from it. Reactions to events can sometimes be more  important than  actions in events.
I talked about letting go of the  past  because it can’t  be changed and  seizing whatever opportunities were before them. I did not offer some  hokey religious platitude about letting go  and  letting God.  I just  tried to be  transparent and  show  the  concern I genuinely felt.  I also  listened to them. If you  tune in  to  someone’s words for  very  long, those words will  reveal what  is  hidden in  that  person’s heart.
The  youngest inmate vented about how  he  was  twenty-one  and  in  two  days  was  being transferred  to  a  prison




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in Huntsville, Texas,  where he  would begin a twenty-five- year  sentence without the  possibility of parole. He  said his  father  would not  visit  him,  and  all  his  mother could do  was  cry  the  two  times  she  came  to  see  him.  I didn’t know  what  crime he  committed, but  my  heart went  out to him.  When  it was time  to go, I asked the men  if I could pray  for them. It was  the  best  thing  I had  to offer.  They were all  in  favor.  Nothing makes people  more   open to prayer than  getting in  a bind  they  cannot get  out  of on their  own.
Afterward  I  began  shaking  their   hands  through  the steel bars  and  wishing the  guys  my  best.  I also  offered my address in case  they  wanted to write. The  last  one  in line  was  the  young, baby-faced  guy  who  on  his  way  to the  pen. I obviously did  not  know  him,  but  I felt  a deep sense of compassion toward him.  The  whole time  I was with  the  inmates, I was  troubled that  someone so young was  losing so much of his life.
Before  I  left,  I  expressed  exactly what   I  felt  boiling inside me.  “Hey, man.  I do not know  what  you  have  done to get  twenty-five years, and  I do not  care. It is never too late  to  change and  to  start  anew. Your  life  is  not  over. Prison  can  be  a time  of getting your  education, working through  your   issues,  and   learning  how   you   can   help others. Do not give up,  bro.  I do not judge you,  but I love you  man.”  I meant ever y word . . . or so I thought.
Walking downstairs, I felt sickened to see  such  a young life  being crushed. My mind  kept  tripping over  what  this boy  could have  done wrong. After  explaining my  grati- tude to  the  jailer, I told  my  companions to  wait  for  me in the  car.  I then  broke a cardinal rule that  I established
when visiting correctional facilities. I never, ever  ask what




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crime someone has  committed because I do not  want  my opinion to be skewed by the revelation of someone’s past. But  with  this  guy  I just  could not  resist.
“Ma’am,   I  have   never  asked  this   question  about any inmate before,  but  I have  to  know, what  crime has  the boy  committed?” I explained that  I felt some  kind  of con- nection to him  and  wanted to help.
She  replied, “Are you  sure  you  want  to know?”
When  I said,  “Yes, I am  sure,”  I knew the  answer was destined to haunt me.  I had  no idea  how  much.

t

The jailer’s words left me  feeling nauseated. I acted like  I was unfazed, but I could feel my heart racing. After telling the jailer good-bye, I walked out  to my car,  wanting to hit something to  unleash the  anger I felt.  Drunk  with  fury, I turned into  a  Jekyll and  Hyde.   If you  have  ever  seen one  of those “when  animals go bad” videos, then  you  can imagine my  transformation.  For  the  next  two  hours of driving I tried to overcome the  rage  I felt.  I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to shake it. After getting home, I lay  in bed  until 5:30 a.m.  completely unable to sleep.
Two  days  later  I was  not  only  struggling with  the  fact that  this  man  had  committed such  a  horrible crime but also  with  how  I could so easily turn  on  someone I genu- inely thought I cared for. As far as I knew, I did  not  hate anyone and  could not remember anyone in my past  I had not  forgiven  or  was  holding a grudge against. Why did  I feel  such  hatred toward this  man?
The  old  saying is  true: hating and  refusing  to  forgive someone is like  drinking poison and  expecting the  other person to  die.  I knew I had  to  do  something. I decided



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to  call  my  best  friend  for  advice on  how  to  shake the problem because nothing seemed to  help. In the  days  I spent wrestling with  my  anger toward the  man,  I began to  revisit   the  circumstances surrounding the  only  other person I could remember hating: my oldest sister.
My sister is quite beautiful and  intelligent. She was also quite rebellious and  stubborn in her  high  school days.  It was not uncommon for her  and  our  parents to be at odds. Sometimes the  conflict erupted in a volcano of anger and hurt  that  spewed everywhere. My sister and  I were fairly close  when we were young, but in time  the distance grew beyond measure. The  wall  between us  seemed to sprout up  suddenly, like  a new  building that  just  appears before you  even  knew it was  being built.
In  my  own  self-centered  world of girls, cars,  and  par- ties,  I was  oblivious to the  struggles she  was  facing. One weekend during my senior year  of high  school, her  friend called when our  parents were out  of  town   to  give  me some  unexpected news. “Jay,  I think  you  need to  know your  sister, Kay, is gay.”  I immediately jumped in  the  car and  drove  to  Kay’s  apartment to  confront  her.  I had  to make sure  it was  a lie.
When  no  one  came   to  the  door, I left  a  message on her  voice  mail  and  waited in  her  parking lot  until 3:00 a.m., but she  never came  home. The next  day  I continued my  stakeout and  knew something was  wrong when she kept  avoiding me.  Late one  afternoon I saw her  car on the road  and  raced up  beside her,  rolled down the  window, and  yelled, “Pull over; we’ve got  to talk.”
She  knew why  I was  chasing her,  because the  girl  who called me  also  phoned her  to give  her  fair  warning. Kay
yelled back  from her  car,  “We have  nothing to talk  about,”




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and  tried to  speed away. She  pulled over  only  when I threatened to run  her  off the  road.
I confronted  her  with  what  I had  been told,  and  she admitted that it all was true. I incorrectly reacted in anger and  disbelief,  unleashing on  her  every  disgusting ounce of my  judgment and  rejection. After many  jagged words were spoken, the  conversation ended with  her  telling me it  was  her  life  and  I should want  her  to  be  happy and me  responding, “I hate  you.”  I was  convinced I had  every right  to reject her.  That  misplaced confidence only  grew after  an  incident a few  months later  really sent  me  over the  edge.
It happened at  lunch late  in  my  senior year. Because my school was  close  to the  house, I often  drove  home for my thirty-minute lunch break just  to see  the family. At the time  everything was  going along great, and  my sister and I had  turned a new  corner. A few  weeks earlier, Kay had moved back  home and  told  my parents she  wanted out  of her  lifestyle.  We had  a tearful  reunion and  were putting the  pieces back  together.
But upon arriving home for lunch, I found my mom  and dad  sitting at the  kitchen table, and  Dad was  doing some- thing  I couldn’t remember seeing him  do before. Dad was crying. He  had  tears  running down his  face,  and  Mom’s eyes  were also  swollen, as if she had  been punched. As far as  I remembered, Dad  did  not  even  cry  when his  father died. Seeing him  upset was  a stab  in the  heart I could not take.
“What  is  going on?”  I  thundered. My  parents replied that  my  sister was  moving back  in  with  her  girlfriend.  I rushed into  my  sister’s room  and  started cursing, telling
her  that  she  was  tearing the  family  apart by leaving. Kay




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just  continued packing, as if unfazed by how  much Mom and  Dad  were hurting. That  took  my  anger to  a boiling point. Kay yelled that  her  life  was  none of my  business and  I needed to  stay  out  of it.  I begged her  to  stay,  for Mom and  Dad’s  sake, but  she  said  nothing could stop  her from  leaving. That’s  when I exploded.
I’d   never  pushed  around  a  girl   before   and   haven’t since, but  that  day  I pinned my  sister against the  wall and  spewed my  venom. The  confrontation  ended with me  telling her  I never wanted to  see  her  again. I knew as I walked past  Mom and  Dad and  out  the  door  that  my actions had  hurt  them  as well, but I didn’t care. I thought I had  every  right  to shove  my  sister—out of my  way  and out  of my mind.
As  the   months rolled  by,  I  did   not   ask  my  parents about Kay and  tried to  ignore the  situation all  together. I believed the  ridiculous notion that  if  I avoided some- thing  long  enough, the  issue would either work  itself  out or  disappear. I was  still  too  young to  understand accep- tance, forgiveness,  and  love  are  not  meant to  be  earned but  to  be  given   freely.  I also  could not  wrap   my  mind around the  fact  that  forgiveness  is  denied to  those who are  unwilling to  dispense it.  Therefore  I just  moved on, or so I thought.
For the  next  three years  I viewed Kay as an  embarrass- ment  to our  family  and  me.  There  were times  when she would come   home for  a  few  weeks, which my  parents and  I always took  to  mean she  was  abandoning her  life- style. But then  she’d move  out  again, and  each  time  it felt like  she  was  turning her  back  on the family  all over  again. The  emotional roller coaster we  were all  on kept  the  ten-
sion  in the family  thick. Mom and  Dad became reluctantly




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accustomed to her chair  being empty at Thanksgiving and
Christmas, but  it was  fine  with  me.
When  Kay hurt  Mom  and  Dad,  I took  it as  a personal assault. No doubt many  of my own  actions had  hurt  them as  deeply as  my  sister’s, but  that  was  easy  for me  to  dis- miss.  Although my anger wasn’t justified, I thought it was. I  had   a  legalistic, self-righteous  view   that  I  learned in part  from some  of the  religious folks at church. Tragically, false  religion taught me  how  to  push away  people who were different rather than  to love  and  seek  to understand them.
My anger was  also  due  to pride. Rather  than  being con- cerned about my relationship with  Kay, I became focused on  what  my  narrow circle of friends  might think  of our family  and  me.  Their  opinions should never have  been my priority, but  I thought rejecting my sister would build walls protecting me  from  their   condemnation. In  actu- ality  I was  closing myself  off from one  of the  people who should have  meant the  most  to me,  and  I was  becoming hard, skeptical, and  angry. The  criticism and  isolation I was dishing out was doing nothing to alter  Kay, but it was definitely changing me.
I had  no  idea  at the  time  that  I was  bound in a prison of my own  making. I had  no idea  that  I was  not living  the fulfilling  life  I longed for because I refused  to deal  with the  anger and  unforgiveness that  was  destroying me.
When   I  hit   twenty-one,  I  experienced  a  watershed event  that  began to  change my  perspective. I began to see  how  far I was  from  becoming the  man  I’d  hoped to be.  It did  not  happen all  at  once, but  the  scales began to fall,  and  I found myself  wanting to repair the  dam  in
my  relationship with  Kay. So  I called her  in  Dallas  and




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asked if we  could meet. I knew she  was  a hundred and twenty miles away, but  I had  no  idea  how  far  that  two- hour  drive  would actually take  me.
Upon  arriving at Kay’s house, I admitted my faults  and asked for forgiveness.  I didn’t expect anything in  return. I was  just  worried that  she  would not  believe my  words because I  hadn’t  done  anything to  prove   my  sincerity. I  had   hurt   her   tremendously  both   in  word   and   deed, wrongly thinking I had  a  right  to  reject her  because of the  life she  was  living. It was  an amazing moment for me when, after  two  hours of talking about all  the  mistakes we  both  had  made, Kay and  I hugged. I told  her  I loved her  and  that  I was  glad  she  was  my sister. She  replied, “I love  you  too,  brother, and  I forgive  you.  I really do.”  The road  to a real  relationship was  not  completely paved that night, but  it was  under good  construction.
It has  been years  now,  and  I can  honestly say my sister and  I are  closer than  ever.  She  does  not  have  to do  any- thing  to earn  my love.  I drove  home from Dallas  realizing that  while I thought I was  letting her  out  of a cage, I was actually the  one  who  needed to be set  free.

t

That  night   at  the  old  jail  when I asked the  jailer what crime the  young man  had  committed, she  had  motioned for me  to sit in a chair  before she  answered.
“Jay, he is going to Huntsville because he raped two pre- teen  girls.”
I swallowed hard, partly because the  girls  he assaulted were the age  of my only  daughter. She offered a few more details before I walked out  the  door.
As I walked to  the  car,  I thought about a  male  nurse



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who  once  sat  next  to me  at an  event  where I was  sched- uled to  speak. He  asked if I had  heard the  news about the  two-year-old girl  who  was  expected to die  after  being raped by her  drug-crazed  stepdad. He was  the  nurse on duty  when she  was  brought in,  and  he  was  still  pretty shaken up.  I was  supposed to  be  talking to  a  crowd of church people in a matter of moments and  found myself silently calling the  offender  the  worst  names possible. I felt  like  such  a hypocrite, but  the  emotions were hard  to lasso.
I have  seen the  effects  of sexual abuse in my most  cov- eted  relationship, which is with  my wife.  A family  member sexually assaulted  her  for  years, and   it  wreaked havoc not  only  on  her  personally but  also  on  our  marriage. If there was  anything that  got  under my skin,  it was  sexual crimes. The  inmate had  struck a tender nerve. I believed he  had  not  only  tried to  crucify  and  steal  the  innocent girls’ present but  their  future as well. I was  livid,  because
I know  the  cuts  of sexual abuse are  the  hardest to  heal. The  scabs  keep tearing off, leaving victims  with  a sense of guilt and  unworthiness due  to something that  was  no fault  of their  own.
Three  sleepless nights after  leaving the  jail,  I got  a rev- elation about accepting others. I had  vengeful  thoughts about the  boy  I’d met.  I am  not  proud to own  them, but
I secretly hoped he  would burn  in  hell. I told  my  best friend  that  justice would seek  and  find  him  behind the walls of the  Huntsville prison. I concluded that  if anyone was  beyond forgiveness  and  restoration, he  was.   I sur- mised that  I might be  responsible to  forgive  and  accept
some   people but  not  everyone. I was  convinced I was





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judge and  jury  when it came  to who  deserved my pardon and  who  did  not.  I was  so wrong.
What about my own  guilt?  I have  never been unfaithful to my wife,  but I have  entertained lustful thoughts. I have not been involved in a murder, but what  about that hatred I have  harbored?  I have  not  been involved in  a same-sex relationship, but  what  about my promiscuity before I was
married? My failures are  no less  sinful  than  anyone else’s.
Judging others only produces self-judgment. I was taught early on to love the sinner and  hate  the sin,  but often  that is  just  religious jargon, a  masquerade to  hide   our  judg- mental attitudes. Who am I to despise anyone else’s faults when I should be busy  enough hating my own?  Instead of shifting blame away  from my own  shortcomings, I should be  reaching out  to those who  may  not  know  that  God is not  the  one  condemning them. Tragically, many  people are  isolating the  very  people who  need them  the  most.
Jesus   never  favored  the   religious;  His  darlings were always the  hurting and  the  sinful,  not  the  self-righteous. He  never tired of  showing His  love  for  renegades. It is ironic that we tend  to be drawn the least  to the people He was  drawn to  the  most.  Jesus  was  regularly seen eating and  spending time  with  outcasts and  those we  wickedly condemn. Unlike us  He had  an  uncanny ability to make the  losers of the  world feel  like  the  winners. He not  only made them  feel  like  somebody, but  He also  helped them to become somebody. We see  people for who  they  were and   are,   but  God  sees   people for  who   they   have   the potential to become.
Sadly, many  morally superior people fall  into  the  trap of  loving only  those who  think, dress, act,  and  believe as  they  do.  It is easy  to beat  your  chest  and  say  you  are




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standing for  truth  without considering whose truth  you are  standing for.  It’s  time  for us  to stop  hating and  start liberating. It’s  time  to bury  our  legalistic and  narcissistic actions. I do not claim  to know  everything about God, but I do  know  He  loves  and  unconditionally accepts anyone
who  is willing to turn  to Him.  This  includes thieves, rob- bers,   murderers,  drunks, adulterers,  Muslims, homosex- uals, gossipers, cheaters, fornicators, liars, hypocrites like me,  and  even  those whom I have  the  hardest time  loving: child  abusers.
I asked God why  He allowed me  to stop  at the  old  jail that  night. Many  people believe in coincidences, but  I do not.  I am  sure  every  step  I take  has  a purpose, a lesson, even  beneficial pain   if I am  willing to  embrace it.  As I prayed for understanding, a question popped in my mind. Does  God  love  the  rapist in  the  Huntsville prison, and could even  someone like  him  be forgiven?
As much as I wanted to deny  it, I knew there was  only one  answer: yes.  I believe God  allowed me  to meet  that man  so  I could understand that  He  does  not  see  others as  I  do.  My  love  has  boundaries, but  His  has  no  end. Although  God  does  not  accept all  the  things I do,  He  is willing to accept all  of me.  This  is the  love  I still  do  not completely understand. Yet it is exactly the  kind  of love  I want  to give.