Virginia Reads

Unconditional {Book Review}

2011-01-04T20:28:00.000-08:00

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:

Brian Zahnd

and the book:

Unconditional?

Charisma House (January 4, 2011)

***Special thanks to Anna Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Book Group | Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Brian Zahnd is the founder and senior pastor of Word of Life Church, a congregation in St. Joseph, Missouri. He and his wife, Peri, have three sons.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $19.99
Hardcover: 256 pages
Publisher: Charisma House (January 4, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 161638025X
ISBN-13: 978-1616380250

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

It should be obvious that forgiveness lies at the heart of the Christian faith, for at its most crucial moments the gracious melody of forgiveness is heard as the recurring theme of Christianity. Consider the prevalence of forgiveness in Christianity’s moments of birth and sacred texts: As Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, they are instructed to say, “Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us.” As Jesus hangs upon the cross, we hear him pray—almost unbelievably—“Father, forgive them.” In his first resurrection appearance to his disciples, Jesus says, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.” In the Apostles’ Creed we are taught to confess, “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.”

Whether we look to the Lord’s Prayer or Jesus’s death upon the cross or his resurrection or the great creeds of the church, we are never far from the theme of forgiveness—for if Christianity isn’t about forgiveness, it’s about nothing at all. Whatever else may be said about Christian people, it must be said of us that we are a people who believe in the forgiveness of sins—we believe in the forgiveness of sins as surely as we believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Most of us enter the Christian faith at least somewhat motivated, if not primarily motivated, to find forgiveness for our own sins. As we grow in the Christian faith, it is vital we become aware that we are called to be those who extend forgiveness to others, thus making the world a more forgiving place. If we enter the Christian faith to find forgiveness, we must continue in the faith to become forgiving people, because to be an authentic follower of Christ we must embrace the centrality of forgiveness.

That’s the theory anyway.

But in the real world of murder, rape, child abuse, genocide, and horrible atrocities, how viable is forgiveness? Is forgiveness just a pious idea that can flourish inside stained-glass sanctuaries, only to wither in the harsh realities of a secular world where stained glass cannot hide the ugliness of human atrocity? A rape victim may have learned the Lord’s Prayer as a child in Sunday school, but does the part about forgiving those who trespass against us have any bearing upon her situation? Is she supposed to forgive her rapist? Sure, forgiveness is good in the realm of relatively minor transgressions, but is there a limit to forgiveness? Are there some crimes that go beyond the capacity of forgiveness? Are there some sins so heinous that to forgive them would itself be an immoral act? Is forgiveness always possible? Or even always right? These are not theoretical questions; these are real questions that are forced upon us in a world where evil is so often beyond the pale.

For modern people, the iconic image of evil and the leading candidate for the unforgivable is the Holocaust and the evil architect of that atrocity, Adolf Hitler. Indeed, the Holocaust casts a long shadow over many aspects of the Christian faith and challenges Christian validity on several levels. While considering the topic of forgiveness, we must ask: Does the Christian concept of forgiveness have anything to do with the Holocaust, or is genocide indeed the realm of the unforgivable? When Christianity speaks of forgiveness, should there be an asterisk attached to the word to indicate that forgiveness is not applicable in extreme situations like the concentration camps of Nazi Germany, the ethnic cleansing in the former Yugoslavia, and the tribal massacres of Rwanda?

I’ve had people tell me not to worry about these extreme cases, because to teach people to forgive one another in the ordinary course of life is enough. But I disagree. If it can be shown that there are situations in which the call of Christ to love our enemies and forgive our transgressors does not apply, we have found the loophole to escape any meaningful Christian obligation to forgive others. Forgiveness then indeed becomes merely an ideal of piety restricted to a stained-glass showcase. The questions about how far forgiveness can and should extend are real questions asked by real people—perhaps most notably by Simon Wiesenthal.

Simon Wiesenthal has a haunting story to tell, and an even more haunting question to ask. He tells his story and asks his question in his famous book The Sunflower. Simon Wiesenthal was an Austrian Jew imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. In The Sunflower, Simon Wiesenthal tells his story and then asks the reader a hard question.

As the book opens, Wiesenthal is part of a work detail being taken from the concentration camp to do cleanup work in a makeshift field hospital near the Eastern Front. As they are marched from the prison camp to the hospital, they come across a cemetery for German soldiers. On each grave is a sunflower.

Wiesenthal writes:

I envied the dead soldiers. Each had a sunflower to connect him with the living world, and butterflies to visit his grave. For me there would be no sunflower. I would be buried in a mass grave, where corpses would be piled on top of me. No sunflower would ever bring light into my darkness, and no butterflies would dance above my dreadful tomb.

While working at the field hospital, a German nurse orders Wiesenthal to follow her. He is taken into a room where a lone SS soldier lay dying. The SS soldier is a twenty-one-year-old German from Stuttgart named Karl Seidl. Karl has asked the nurse to “bring him a Jew.” Karl has been mortally wounded in battle and now wants to make his dying confession—and he wants to make it to a Jew. The SS man is wrapped in bandages covering his entire face, with only holes for his mouth, nose, and ears. For the next several hours, Simon sits alone in silence with Karl as the dying SS soldier tells his story. Karl was an only child from a Christian home. His parents had raised him in the church and had not been supporters of the Nazi party and Hitler’s rise to power. But at fifteen, against his parents’ wishes, Karl joined the Hitler Youth. At eighteen Karl joined the infamous SS troops.

Now as Karl is dying, he wants to confess the atrocities he has witnessed and in which he, as a Nazi SS soldier, has participated. Most horrifying is his account of being part of a group of SS soldiers sent to round up Jews in the city of Dnepropetrovsk. Three hundred Jews—men, women, children, and infants—were gathered and driven with whips into a small three-story house. The house was set on fire, and Karl recounted what happened to his confessor in these words:

“We heard screams and saw the flames eat their way from floor to floor. . . . We had our rifles ready to shoot down anyone who tried to escape from that blazing hell. . . . The screams from that house were horrible. . . . Behind the windows of the second floor, I saw a man with a small child in his arms. His clothes were alight. By his side stood a woman, doubtless the mother of the child. With his free hand the man covered the child’s eyes . . . then he jumped into the street. Seconds later the mother followed. Then from the other windows fell burning bodies . . . We shot . . . Oh God!”

Karl is most haunted by the boy he shot, a boy with “dark eyes” who Karl guessed was about six years old. Karl’s description of this boy reminds Simon Wiesenthal of a boy he knew in the Lemberg Ghetto.

During the several hours that Simon the Jew sat with Karl the Nazi, Simon never spoke. At Karl’s request, Simon held the dying man’s hand. Simon brushed away the flies and gave Karl a drink of water, but he never spoke. During the long ordeal, Simon never doubted Karl’s sincerity or that he was truly sorry for his crimes. Simon said that the way Karl spoke was proof enough of his repentance. At last Karl said:

“I am left here with my guilt. In the last hours of my life you are here with me. I do not know who you are, I only know that you are a Jew and that is enough. . . . I know that what I have told you is terrible. In the long nights while I have been waiting for death, time and time again I have longed to talk about it to a Jew and beg forgiveness from him. Only I didn’t know if there were any Jews left. . . . I know that what I am asking is almost too much for you, but without your answer I cannot die in peace.”

With that, Simon Wiesenthal made up his mind and left the room in silence. During all the hours that Simon Wiesenthal had sat with Karl, Simon never uttered a word. That night Karl Seidl died. Karl left his possessions to Simon, but Simon refused them. Against all odds, Simon Wiesenthal survived the Holocaust. Eighty-nine members of his family did not. But Simon Wiesenthal could not forget Karl Seidl. After the war Simon visited Karl’s mother to check out Karl’s story. It was just as Karl had said. Karl’s mother assured Simon that her son was “a good boy” and could never have done anything bad. Again, this time out of kindness, Simon remained silent. Simon believed that in his boyhood, Karl might indeed have been “a good boy.” But Simon also concluded that a graceless period of his life had turned him into a murderer.

Simon Wiesenthal concludes his riveting and haunting story with an equally riveting and haunting question addressed to the reader.

Ought I to have forgiven him? . . . Was my silence at the bedside of the dying Nazi right or wrong? This is a profound moral question that challenges the conscience of the reader of this episode, just as much as it once challenged my heart and mind. . . . The crux of the matter is, of course, the question of forgiveness. Forgetting is something that time alone takes care of, but forgiveness is an act of volition, and only the sufferer is qualified to make the decision. You, who have just read this sad and tragic episode in my life, can mentally change places with me and ask yourself the crucial question, “What would I have done?”

And thus we are faced with a dramatic challenge to the possibilities of forgiveness. Is forgiveness always possible? Are there some situations in which forgiveness is impossible? Is this one of them? Can a dying, apparently repentant Nazi find forgiveness for his sins? Can a dying SS soldier who participated in Holocaust atrocities find forgiveness from God? And perhaps more challengingly, can he find forgiveness from his fellow humans? Would it even be permissible to offer forgiveness in this case, or would it be a betrayal of justice? These are the kind of questions that are raised by Simon Wiesenthal’s The Sunflower.

The second part of The Sunflower is a symposium of fifty-three prominent thinkers—Jews, Christians, atheists, philosophers, professors, rabbis, ministers, and others—who respond to Wiesenthal’s question. The respondents understood the real question as this: Is there a way that a person in Simon Wiesenthal’s position could offer forgiveness of some kind to the dying Nazi? By my count, twenty-eight of the respondents said no, offering forgiveness in this situation is not possible. Sixteen of the respondents said yes, there was some way in which forgiveness could have been offered. Nine of the respondents were unclear on their positions. Interestingly, the sixteen who were in favor of some form of forgiveness were all Christians or Buddhists (thirteen Christians and three Buddhists). Among Jews, Muslims, and atheists who responded there appeared to be unanimity in agreeing that an offer of forgiveness in this situation was impossible.

Conversely, most of the Christian respondents said there was a way in which forgiveness could be offered. Significantly, no Christian stated that forgiveness in this situation would be categorically impossible. It can’t help but be noted that a Christian worldview apparently radically influences how a person approaches the possibilities of forgiveness. And it should be stressed that forgiveness here does not mean pardon in a legal sense. Had Karl Seidl lived, he still would have been subject to the demands of legal justice despite any offer of personal forgiveness. Forgiveness here should be understood not as legal pardon but an invitation back into the human community. We will explore the relationship of forgiveness and justice later.

After surviving the Holocaust and publishing The Sunflower in 1969, Simon Wiesenthal went on to live a noble and humanitarian life. He died in 2005 at the age of ninety-six. In The Sunflower, Mr. Wiesenthal does a masterful job telling his story, and his question about the possibilities of forgiveness is important for all human beings, but supremely so for Christians, because forgiveness is at the heart of the Christian faith.

On the cover of my copy of The Sunflower is this question: “You are a prisoner in a concentration camp. A dying Nazi soldier asks you for forgiveness. What should you do?” I felt it was important that I try to compose an answer. So even though Simon Wiesenthal never personally asked me his question, here is my unsolicited reply:

Dear Mr. Wiesenthal,

First of all let me say I will not presume to sit in judgment of your actions. You showed kindness to a dying Nazi soldier as you held his hand, brushed away the flies, and gave him water to drink. You showed great kindness to his mother in not destroying the memory of her son. And I agree with Lutheran theologian Martin Marty who says, “Non-Jews and perhaps especially Christians should not give advice about the Holocaust experience to its heirs for the next two thousand years. And then we shall have nothing to say. Cheap instant advice from a Christian would trivialize the lives and deaths of millions.” Nevertheless, since you ask the question, let me try to reply. I cannot say what I would have done, only what I could hope I would have done. As a Christian I would hope that I would reply in something of this manner to my dying enemy:

“I cannot offer you forgiveness on behalf of those who have suffered monstrous crimes at your hands and the hands of those with whom you willingly aligned yourself; I have no right to speak on their behalf. But what I can tell you is that forgiveness is possible. There is a way for you to be reconciled with God, whose image you have defiled, and there is a way for you to be restored to the human race, from which you have fallen. There is a way because the One who never committed a crime cried from the cross saying, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ Because I believe in the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, I believe that your sin does not have to be a dead end, that there is a way forward into reconciliation.

“The forgiveness of which I speak is not a cheap forgiveness. It is not cheap because it was not cheap for Jesus Christ to suffer the violence of the cross and offer no retaliation but love and forgiveness. It is not a cheap forgiveness because it requires of you deep repentance, including a commitment to restorative justice for those you have wronged. There is no cheap forgiveness for your sins, but there is a costly forgiveness. If you in truth turn from your sins in sorrow and look to Christ in faith, there is forgiveness—a costly forgiveness that can reconcile you to God and restore you to the human race. I cannot forgive you on behalf of others, but on my own behalf and in the name of Jesus Christ, I tell you, your sins are forgiven you. Welcome to the forgiving community of forgiven sinners. May the peace of Jesus Christ be with you.”

This is what I hope I would have said. But for all I know, I might have treated a dying enemy with far less kindness than you did.

In deep admiration of your dignity,

Brian Zahnd

As I read the responses from the twenty-eight or so who argued against the possibility of offering forgiveness to the dying Nazi, I found many of their arguments very compelling. Nevertheless, I’m convinced that if forgiveness is impossible for a repentant war criminal simply because his sins are too terrible, then the Christian gospel is a fairy tale, and we might as well abandon the charade. But as the Apostles’ Creed says, “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.” Christianity is a faith of forgiveness.

The Christian life is a prayer of forgiveness: “Forgive us as we forgive them.”

The Christian life is a suffering cry of forgiveness: “Father, forgive them.”

The Christian life is a commission to forgive: “If you forgive anyone, they are forgiven.”

So even in the face of Simon Wiesenthal’s challenging question and the sympathy I may feel for those who argue that forgiveness could not be offered by a Jew to a dying Nazi, I am fully convinced that to deny the possibility of forgiveness is to deny the very heart of the Christian gospel. The oft-quoted words of Jesus, “with God all things are possible,” not only include forgiveness but also especially pertain to forgiveness. And the call of Christ to take up our cross and follow him is very specifically a call to love our enemies and end the cycle of revenge by responding with forgiveness.

Of course there is a cheap forgiveness that is worthless and an affront to justice. Essentially, the Buddhist position is that evil is a nonexistent illusion, so there is really nothing to forgive. This is nothing like the Christian position. Christian forgiveness is not a cheap denial of the reality of evil or the trite sloganeering of “forgive and forget.” That may suffice for minor personal affronts, but it is hollow and even insulting when applied to crimes like murder, rape, and genocide. No, Christian forgiveness is not cheap. Rather it is costly because it flows from the cross—the place where injustice and forgiveness meet in a violent collision. Christian forgiveness does not call us to forget. Christian forgiveness allows us to remember but calls us to end the cycle of revenge.

I have found it very interesting to ask non-Christians what Jesus taught. Nearly without exception they will mention that Jesus taught us to love our enemies. Among nonbelievers, Jesus seems to be famous for teaching that his disciples should love their enemies. Yet when I ask Christians what Jesus taught, they very rarely bring up this commandment. But I think the intuition of the non-Christian is correct—Jesus’s emphasis on loving enemies is central to Jesus’s teaching and is especially prominent in the Sermon on the Mount. The command to love your enemy is memorable because it is radical. But the command to love your enemy is a command that we who are followers of Christ tend to forget because it is so very hard to do.

Yet Sermon on the Mount Christianity is the very kind of Christianity that can change the world. The Christlike love that absorbs the blow and responds with forgiveness is the only real hope this world has for real change. To respond to hate with hate enshrines the status quo and only guarantees that hate will win—it’s what keeps the world as it is. We tend to think that our hatred of our enemies is justified because we can point to their obvious crimes, and, as the logic goes, if we were in charge instead of our enemies, things would be different. But history tells a different story. Hatred, no matter how justifiable, simply fuels the endless cycle of revenge. Nothing really changes except that lines on a map get redrawn. Meet the new boss; same as the old boss. Christianity has more to offer the world than recycled revenge.

September 11, 2001, is testament to the power of hate. On that day, nineteen men filled with hate and armed with box cutters changed the world. Think about that.

Nineteen men
Box cutters
Hate
Changed the world

It seems almost incredible, but it seems to be true.

Yet as followers of Jesus Christ, we are called to believe in the radical proposition that love is more powerful than hate. We are called to believe that although hatred may be very powerful, it’s love that never fails, and that love is the greatest thing of all. If we hate our enemies because they first hated us, and return hate for hate because that’s what hate does, we will continue to live in the ugly world of hate and its endless cycle of revenge. But when love enters the world of hate and is willing to love even its enemies, a new and real kind of change comes to the world—a change where hate does not have the last word. Yes, nineteen men full of hate and armed with box cutters changed the world. Or did they? Did the world change, or was that day simply the addition of the latest chapter in the long legacy of hate? Maybe the world didn’t change at all; maybe it’s just the same old thing that’s been happening since Cain killed Abel.

Jesus Christ taught us to love our enemies and to pray for those who abuse us. And he modeled it to the extreme. He carried his cross to Calvary and there forgave his enemies. As Christians, we believe that Calvary is the time and place that the world began to change. Did nineteen men full of hate and armed with box cutters change the world? What about twelve men full of love and armed with forgiveness? Yes, in the Upper Room on the evening of the Resurrection, Jesus breathed upon his disciples and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven.” Loving and forgiving our enemies, this is how we are to change the world!

During the Armenian Genocide of 1915–1917, one and a half million Armenians were murdered by Ottoman Turks, and millions more were raped, brutalized, and forcibly deported. From the Armenian Genocide comes a famous story of a Turkish army officer who led a raid upon the home of an Armenian family. The parents were killed, and their daughters raped. The girls were then given to the soldiers. The officer kept the oldest daughter for himself. Eventually this girl was able to escape and later trained to become a nurse. In an ironic twist of fate, she found herself working in a ward for wounded Turkish army officers. One night by the dim glow of a lantern, she saw among her patients the face of the man who had murdered her parents and so horribly abused her sisters and herself. Without exceptional nursing he would die. And that is what the Armenian nurse gave—exceptional care. As the officer began to recover, a doctor pointed to the nurse and told the officer, “If it weren’t for this woman, you would be dead.”

The officer looked at the nurse and asked, “Have we met?”

“Yes,” she replied.

After a long silence the officer asked, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

The Armenian Christian replied, “I am a follower of him who said, ‘Love your enemies.’”

She simply said, “I am a follower of him who said, ‘Love your enemies.’” For this Christian, no further explanation was necessary. For her, forgiveness was not an option; it was a requirement. Do we carry the same conviction? Do we see the practice of forgiveness as synonymous with being a Christian? When grappling with the question of forgiveness, we eventually have to grapple with the question of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. It’s all too easy to reduce being a Christian to a conferred status—the result of having “accepted Jesus as your personal Savior.” But that kind of minimalist approach is a gross distortion of what the earliest followers of Jesus understood being a Christian to mean. The original Christians didn’t merely (or even primarily) see themselves as those who had received a “get out of hell free” card from Jesus but as followers, students, learners, and disciples of the one whom they called Master and Teacher. Jesus was the master, and they were the disciples.

What does it mean to be a disciple? If someone were a disciple of the sitar master Ravi Shankar, it would be assumed that they hoped to learn to play the sitar with great skill. If someone were a disciple of a kung fu master, it would be assumed that they hope to eventually master the art of kung fu. So, if we call ourselves disciples of Jesus, what is it we are trying to learn? What is it that Jesus offers to teach us when we heed the call to follow him? What is Jesus the master of, which we seek to learn? The answer is “Life.” Jesus is the master of living well, living rightly, living truly. Jesus is the master of living a human life as God intended. And at the center of Jesus’s teaching on how we should live is the recurring theme of love and forgiveness.

For those who are serious about being a disciple of Jesus, serious about learning to live the way he taught, the Sermon on the Mount is of supreme importance. This is where Jesus sets forth his radical vision of how we should live. And make no mistake about it; it is radical—so radical that for much of Christian history, the church has occupied theologians in finding ways to get around it. Some theologians have suggested that Jesus never actually expected us to live the Sermon on the Mount; rather it was a disingenuous teaching to “drive us to grace.” As the argument goes, in attempting to live the Sermon on the Mount we would find it simply can’t be done, and then we would look to grace as an alternative to obeying Christ. Not grace to live the Sermon on the Mount, but grace not to live it.

This interpretation is pretty far-fetched, to say the least, but surprisingly common. Other theologians have argued that the Sermon on the Mount should be viewed as attitudes of the heart, but not as commandments to be actually obeyed. So that as long as you have the attitude of love in your heart, you don’t have to actually go the second mile or actually turn the other cheek. I suppose this means that when you are treated unkindly you can retaliate like everyone else, but you are to do so with a “kindly attitude” in your heart. Of course this turns Christianity into nothing more than a nice religion of private piety—something that has been regularly done throughout the centuries. But we should keep in mind that Jesus was not crucified for teaching people to have a cheerful attitude. Jesus was crucified for teaching there was another way to live than adhering to the pharisaical religion of Israel or the brutal empire of Rome. It should be obvious from an honest reading of the Gospels that Jesus expected his disciples to master the lessons he taught and actually live a life centered on love and forgiveness. And Jesus expects his modern-day followers to do the same—to become disciples of love who master the art of forgiveness. Jesus was under no illusion that this is an easy life. In his sermon he called it a narrow and difficult road, but he also called it the road that leads to life.

The most common and vigorous protest against any serious attempt to live the Sermon on the Mount is that it’s not “practical.”

Not practical?

Practical is a very utilitarian (and at times ugly) word. In this case, it is code for complicity with the status quo and accepting the world as is as the only legitimate vision for humanity. Beforewe can even try to live the Sermon on the Mount, we must first experience the liberation of our imagination. If we only listen to the “practical” men who run the world as it is, we will end up settling for the anemic interpretation that the Sermon on the Mount is about private attitudes of the heart and not about Jesus’s radical vision of love and forgiveness.

We must keep in mind that we are told the Sermon on the Mount is not practical by those who have a deep commitment to (and perhaps a vested interest in) perpetuating the status quo. These

practical men seek to control not only the way the world is run but even our imaginations. They tell us, “This is just the way the real world works,” and thus they seek to confine Jesus to a “heavenly” kingdom while they get on with the practical business of running the “real” world. But the Holy Spirit is a liberator of imagination, and we must reject the arrogant pretense of the principalities and powers along with their bloody pragmatism. The church with a Christ-inspired vision and a Holy Spirit–liberated imagination is to be that realm where the followers of Jesus prove the practical men wrong by actually living the Sermon on the Mount. To live the Sermon on the Mount, we first have to rebel against the powers that be. We have to believe that there is another way of being human. We have to believe that Jesus taught and modeled that way.

The twentieth century was one of the bloodiest and most hate filled centuries in human history. It was a century defined by war, especially the two great World Wars—The War to End All Wars . . . and the one that came after that. As the children who were born at the close of World War II came of age, they began to imagine an alternative to the hate and war that had defined their parents’ generation, and so they sang and spoke of “love and peace.” The problem was that no one could actually live it. As Larry Norman wryly observed, “Beatles said all you need is love,
and then they broke up.”6 The “love and peace” generation of the sixties wasn’t wrong in trying to imagine something better than a world filled with hate and war—it was wrong in not finding a better messiah than the Beatles. Jesus didn’t just talk about love and peace; he lived it to the extreme. When Jesus prayed for his enemies to be forgiven as they drove the nails into his hands, he was living his own sermon and validating his right to preach it. After that, no one could dare claim that Jesus’s teaching was not “practical.” Jesus had lived it, died for it, and been vindicated by God in resurrection. His call is as vibrant and exciting today as it was two thousand years ago when he first issued it to Galilean fishermen: “Follow me.” It’s an invitation to follow Jesus in his radical way of enemy-love and costly forgiveness.

If the only way of responding to the evil of injustice is retaliation and revenge, we conspire with the powers of darkness to keep the world an ugly place. This is why Jesus (upon his own authority!) dared to countermand the Torah and alter the law of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” with his radical command not to resist the one who is evil and to turn the other cheek. A world in which tit-for-tat retaliation is the rule remains an ugly place where too many people are missing an eye and a tooth. Or, as Mahatma Gandhi observed, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” Jesus’s vision is to end the ugliness of revenge and make the world beautiful through grace.

Grace is the distinctly Christian alternative to the tired system of retaliation that perpetuates pain and leaves the whole world blind. Grace is God’s idea of how the world can be made new. Grace is why Jesus could call the poor and persecuted . . . the mournful and meek . . . blessed. Jesus’s entire life and message were the embodiment of the grace that triumphs over the cold pragmatism of a world where the strong dominate the weak. Jesus’s message of love and forgiveness is not rooted in a naïve optimism but in the grace that takes the blame, covers the shame, and removes the stain and the endless cycle of revenge.

Grace is the antidote for the Eastern concept of karma. Karma is the ancient idea that what goes around comes around, and there is no escape from it, that retribution always has the final word. But grace travels outside the rules of karma and gives a different final word. Of course, the very basis of the Christian gospel is that, because of what Christ accomplished on the cross, there is a way for sinners to be saved from the destructive consequences (karma) of their sins. But Christians are not just recipients of forgiving grace; we are also called to be those who extend the grace of forgiveness to others. Christians are to be carriers of grace in a world cursed with karma and endless cycles of revenge.

Grace is the great treasure of the kingdom of God, or as Jesus described it in his parable, a pearl of great price. That pearl is the gospel of the kingdom of heaven. It’s the pearl of the gospel of grace that makes beauty out of ugly things. That’s what grace does. Karma doesn’t have the final word, and the ugliness of vengeance is not the final mark left upon humanity. What could be more ugly than the murder and rape of a helpless Armenian family at the hands of Turkish soldiers? Yet from that ugly episode emerges a beautiful story of grace and forgiveness.

So, ultimately, for the committed Christ follower, the question of forgiveness is not a question of whether forgiveness is possible, but a question of how we can find the grace to offer forgiveness. We may discover that we offer forgiveness to transgressors and offenders the same way that Jesus did—amidst great suffering. In our feelings-oriented culture, it’s easy to equate forgiveness with having certain feelings. Forgiveness is not a feeling. Forgiveness is a choice to end the cycle of revenge and leave justice in the hands of God. Very often we forgive our enemies by entering into the sufferings of Christ who forgave from the cross. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer says in The Cost of Discipleship, “The call to follow Christ always means a call to share the work of forgiving men their sins. Forgiveness is the Christlike suffering which it is the Christian’s duty to bear.”7 Dietrich Bonhoeffer was no starryeyed idealist who didn’t know about the reality of evil. He wrote these words during the rise of Nazism in Germany and would eventually die at the hands of the Nazis. Bonhoeffer’s theology of forgiveness was forged in the crucible of real and costly suffering, but for Bonhoeffer, the cost of discipleship settled the question of forgiveness.

60 Minute Money Workout by Ellie Kay

2010-12-14T09:28:00.000-08:00

When I received my free copy of this book, I was incredibly excited. I set the book down until I could finish a different book I was working on. Then life got incredibly busy..in fact it started moving at warp speed. I found the book the other day and realized I hadn't even started it. I put it back down as I was on a mission and well..it's still there. So I can't give a personal review right now, but I'll read it and then I'll let you know what I think of it. Until then...enjoy.

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:

Ellie Kay

and the book:

The 60-Minute Money Workout: An Easy Step-by-Step Guide to Getting Your Finances into Shape

WaterBrook Press (December 14, 2010)

***Special thanks to Cindy Brovsky and Staci Carmichael of Doubleday Religion/ Waterbrook Multnomah, Divisions of Random House, Inc., for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

ELLIE KAY is a financial expert on Good Money (ABC NEWS) and best-selling author of more than a dozen books and hundreds of magazine articles. She’s a regular media guest on CNBC, CNN, and Fox News, and has been featured on ABC Nightline, Your World with Neil Cavuto, and Fox and Friends. Her radio commentary for Focus on the Family airs on more than two thousand radio outlets around the world. She and her husband are the parents of seven children and live in Southern California.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (December 14, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307446034
ISBN-13: 978-0307446039

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

60 Minutes to

Financial Freedom

Thirty years.

That’s how long it took to achieve the dream.

When I was at the ripe old age of ten, my parents won a trip to Germany because my dad bought a certain number of air conditioners for his part-time building business. They promised to bring me back “something special.” I imagined a Bavarian costume, a crown that belonged to a real princess, or maybe even a china teacup. Instead, they brought me a book and a rock. The rock came from the lake where King Ludwig allegedly killed himself, and the book was a compilation of his castles and treasures. They were a little odd, but those gifts ended up serving me well.

At school, I used the book to write a report on King Ludwig that earned an A+. And the rock inspired a dream to one day see Neuschwanstein, also known as “the Disneyland Castle.”

Three decades later I was able to fulfill those travel dreams, thanks to my international work with military families. As I walked through the castle’s gilded hall, my imagination wandered to what life must have been like for people such as King Ludwig, who had only known a life of wealth and privilege, then to have that life cut short through suicide or murder. I decided that my life as a mother of seven wasn’t that bad after all. I may not have been at the pinnacle of wealth and privilege, but I was fulfilling my dream, which also happened to be squarely in the path of another of my dreams: helping military families achieve their financial dreams.

Along the road to a dream fulfilled, there was hope deferred, justice denied, and paradise lost. But one thing remained true: there was a plan and purpose for the ten-year-old version of me, and my dreams—some material, some personal, and some spiritual—were worth keeping.

What were some of your childhood dreams?

Do you still dream, or did you stop dreaming a long time ago?

Would I trade my dream trip to see Neuschwanstein for anything else? Of course I would! There are boatloads of things in life that carry far greater value than a trip: my husband, kids, friends, health, and an entire host of far more meaningful things than the material ones. But the point is that if we are purposeful, principled, and proactive about money matters, then we can still hang on to those longtime dreams and watch them come to pass.

Maybe your dream is to stop fighting about money with your mate.

Maybe you want to buy a home or go to Paris.

You might dream of putting your babies through college without a mountain of student-loan debt.

Or you might want to be able to sponsor a third-world child and give her a life she couldn’t have without your help.

While many people know they need to be proactive about money matters, few know the secret to putting feet to fiscal concepts. Knowledge alone is not enough to make a difference in a person’s financial picture. This knowledge has to be put into action regularly in order to reach your goals.

So move over money “makeovers,” it’s time for the money workout.

Makeovers fall short of truly revitalizing your financial picture. While they address the problem and suggest solutions, implementing those concepts on a day-to-day basis can feel like driving a Honda when you were dreaming of a roadster. Another challenge of a makeover is that you don’t know how to do it on your own after the experts leave.

But my money workout method will teach you how to have self sufficiency once this book is closed.

Maybe you’ve tried to work on money issues but instead ended up fighting with your spouse. It might be that the thought of sitting down with all your bills is so overwhelming that it falls into the realm of impossible. Maybe you’re convinced that you will never get out of debt, live in financial harmony, or own a home. It’s not about how much time you spend working on money issues; it’s about the quality of that time. So let’s get started with your own money workout.

It’s time to do our first pre workout quiz. It will only take ten minutes. The quizzes throughout this book serve to prepare you for the main workout, and you’ll get a lot more out of your sixty-minute money workout if you take the time to prepare. While our dream quiz seems to be a lifestyle quiz rather than a money quiz, it’s important to understand that almost every area of our lives is impacted by some financially related area. For example, an educational goal or dream coming true is often related to a work ethic, which is a financial skill. Personal goals that deal with family, marriage, and kids are definitely related to finances because of the impact that money matters have on families. Spiritual goals highly influence us in the way we use or view money. So try to fill out these dreams with that financial element in mind, and you’ll get more out of the quiz. Once you’ve finished this exercise, it will help you focus on past dreams or expectations, current realities, and future possibilities.

Pre-workout Quiz

1. What are some dreams you had as a much younger version of yourself? List a dream for each category:

Personal

Professional

Spiritual

Material

Educational

2. If you were to rank these “dreams come true” from 1 to 10, with 1 meaning that it did not get fulfilled in any way and 10 meaning it came to pass as you dreamed it or better, then how would you rank the dreams in question 1?

For example, maybe you always wanted a bachelor’s degree from the University of Southern California; instead you earned a master’s from the University of Texas. If you are satisfied with the fact that you received a better degree from a different college, you could indicate a 10 for that dream. Or maybe you always wanted to be a pilot in the air force but didn’t have the requisite eyesight. So you got rated in a Cessna and went on to have a fulfilling career in real estate. You might give that dream a 5. This is your test. Although it’s subjective, it represents your life and your level of contentment with your dreams.

3. Go back and add up your dream scores from questions 1 and 2.

4. Repeat the exercise, but instead of listing childhood dreams, list your current financial dreams for your future and/or your family’s. For example, buying a house, helping third-world children, putting your kids through college with minimal debt, building an adequate retirement fund, going to Paris, having a zero balance on all your credit cards, being in a position to help others in need. You get the idea.

5. If you can, put a “dreams come true” ranking next to your current dreams using the same scale as in question 2, but base it on how likely you think it is that your current dreams will come true.

Quiz Results

In step 3, you added your scores for the dreams of your youth. See below to determine where you are with those.

25 points or less: You’ve had a severely average life as opposed to the life you dreamed of having as a child. Or maybe you just had a very creative imagination and dreamed of becoming a dinosaur—talk about an impossible dream(unless you’re an archaeologist and you dig up dinosaurs, thus finding fulfillment by working in the same category of that childhood dream).

Another interpretation of this score can indicate an absence of exposure to key elements in your life. For example, maybe your family didn’t value education, so you didn’t have educational dreams. Consequently, you’ve either had to made adjustments and become a better person in the process of some dream-shattering realities, or you may have given up on the whole idea of dreaming and emptied your pockets of hope.

26–35 points: Either you weren’t very imaginative as a child and didn’t day dream about life in the future, or you had an above average culmination of your dreams coming true. This score could also indicate that you were purposeful and realistic in ways to make your dreams come true, even though you fell short of the youthful version of yourself. It might be that you’ve had some challenging life-changing events, but you’ve recovered from them enough to be able to take the second chance this world has given you.

36–45 points: You might be a lot like my husband, Bob, whose dad took him to a Blue Angels air show when he was a child. After the show Bob told his dad, “When I grow up I want to fly those jets with the funny noses.” He grew up to fly the F-4 Phantom, the same jet he saw at the air show. You have had most of your dreams come true and/or you’ve been very satisfied with a different interpretation of your childhood dream. Even if your real dream came true almost exactly the way you imagined it, you still may not be content, because contentment is often a choice. But it appears you have had every opportunity to be satisfied with the results of your childhood dreams.

45–50 points: You might be one of those people we know as someone who is “living the dream.” You were prescient or intuitive as a child, and it seems you followed your passions to see these dreams to fulfillment. Very few people can say that they’ve had most of their dreams come true, but you are one of that minority. With great privilege comes great responsibility, so you are now in a position to help others set goals and make their dreams come true. You can’t do everything for others, but you can help and give them hope. Congratulations on living the dream.

In step 5, you were to rank how likely you believe your new dreams will come true. This exercise measures the realistic nature of your goals and expectations as well as your optimism about your future. So add up those results and then go back and read the result descriptions above to see what areas may need to be adjusted in order to set yourself up for success in your financial life.

Boundaries for the 60-Minute Money Workout

As we prepare for the workout, it’s important to establish boundaries and do a little mental preparation as well. Some of the workouts in this book will be done alone, but other chapters will involve your mate, an accountability partner, or your family. The guidelines, however, are the same whether there’s one or ten people involved. Here are some boundaries to keep in mind:

No condescension or negativity. Don’t talk down to anyone who’s involved in the process, and if you’re alone, do not allow your mind to entertain any negative self-talk. It doesn’t matter if you’ve failed in the past, lack knowledge about certain aspects of finances, or have a bad self-image. For one hour, you are going to be focused on learning, keeping a positive mind-set, and making progress in the workout. In fact, that’s why it’s called a “workout,” because you are working out some of these things in your life to have a positive result.

No interrupting others when they are talking. If you have trouble with interrupting others, then sit on your hands. It will serve as a reminder that you are to listen in an active manner and not spend the time thinking about what you’re going to say next. If sitting on your hands fails to keep you from interrupting, then get a tennis ball and pass it back and forth. If the ball isn’t in your hands, then your lips should be still. And if you are talking and the other person starts to interrupt, just wave the ball and smile.

No name-calling. For one hour you are going to be part of the southern genteel class, an aristocrat born and bred with good manners. For a measly hour, you’re going to say nice things and not throw around labels.

No throwing food. Okay, this may seem like a funny and random boundary—it is. During my husband’s military service, a formal dinner could turn into a food fight if one wayward roll got out of control. So if you are prone to this kind of behavior, then maybe you shouldn’t do your money workouts over a meal.

If you truly have a problem with throwing golf clubs or Scrabble boards when you are frustrated, then you will need to do your money workouts with another mature person (or couple) or even a professional counselor.

Begin each workout by saying one positive thing. Most of us have negative self-talk tapes that run through our heads, and sometimes we just need to destroy those. I haven’t ever been able to stick to a budget. You’re such an idiot, how can you possibly get it together at your age? These are trash talk negative statements that should be thrown out. Instead, tell yourself something positive about yourself. Or tell your partner one positive thing that you like about him or her. It will be more beneficial if these positive things are financially related, such as, “You have a good work ethic” or “You really saved a lot when you bought that new notebook after shopping around.”

End each workout by saying one positive thing. You started on a positive note, and now you’re going to end on a positive note. If your positive statement can relate to the workout, that would be ideal. For example, “I didn’t quit. I stayed and finished the entire thing.” Or if you’re talking to another family member, “You really did a great job of listening, and I appreciate that you didn’t interrupt.”

Create an environment that encourages comfort and success. If you hate Mondays, then maybe you shouldn’t make Monday your money workout day. You want your workout to be set up for success, which means you should do it at a time when you feel rested, the kids are not underfoot, and you are in a place that is conducive to conversation. Part of this boundary point is to put this money workout on your calendar at a time and in a place that promotes a relaxed yet purposeful atmosphere.

Gather workout folders. One major positive about these money workouts is that you don’t have to purchase any journals, financial kits, or other expensive materials to make this work for you. The basic supplies you need are minimal and inexpensive. You will need to invest in a dozen pocket folders from a local office supply store (less than $10) and label them for the different workouts. For example, if you are working on a spending plan, then when you are finished for the hour, you can place the notes you made into the folder and later easily pick up where you left off.

Keeping your working materials separate also allows you to put other related materials into the folders and keep them organized, which makes your workouts easier. For example, if there’s a new Web site you want to check out for “The 60-Minute Travel and Fun Guide Workout,” then throw it into the appropriate pocket folder, and you’ll have it at the ready when you need it. If you have a college scholarship application you want to help your student complete, then place it in “The 60-Minute College Plan Workout” folder. This is all very low tech and simple.

Have a timer on hand. You need to stick to the times listed, even if you’re “on a roll” and want to keep going beyond the hour. Do not go overtime. It’s the same as a too-long workout at the beginning of a physical fitness routine. An extended workout will do you in and make you sore the next day, and a workout marathon defeats the purpose of the exercise. If your “money talks” have an established start time and a set finish time, they are going to be a lot less painful. Realize that you won’t get all the problems solved in just one hour. That’s okay. You still will make progress in that hour. Then you can come back to it and either make a little more progress or finish it. Part of the benefit of The 60-Minute Money Workout is that you’ll make the best, most productive use of those sixty minutes. A set hour is a wonderful motivation to stay on topic and move through each section quickly, without getting bogged down by any of the negatives listed above in the boundaries section. The regular part of the workout will keep you busy enough, because there’s no time for squabbling, condescension, or negativity.

The 60-Minute Money Workout

This is how the sixty-minute money workout works: every chapter has a different goal for the workout, such as retirement planning, vacation trips, or paying down consumer debt. You will have a timer and specific materials for each workout (such as calculators, Internet access, bills, etc.).The prep work for each exercise will list the materials you need. At the end of each chapter, you will find a tip sheet that will serve as an outline when you have the weekly topical workouts.

As with a physical workout, the keys to your success are consistency and intensity. For this workout to facilitate the miraculous in your life and revolutionize your finances, you have to practice it regularly (at least once a week) and you have to abide by the boundaries. So let’s get started.

Pick the goal you want to work on. Then grab a timer. You can set it for one hour and watch the time for each section. Or you can set the timer for the minutes available in each section, and when it goes off, it’s time to move on to the next section.

Here is how the times are broken down and what you do within each section.

1. Make-Up-Your-Mind Warm up (5 minutes)

This part of the exercise is listed in the boundary section as “Begin each workout by saying one positive thing.” There’s a proverb that says, “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” This is where you are going to begin to get focused on good things. If you are alone, then you will begin by closing your eyes and breathing deeply to relax your body and to get rid of any distracting thoughts from a busy day. If you are in the habit of praying, this would be a good time to meditate in order to think about what you want to accomplish during the next hour.

If you are with a family member or your mate, begin by saying something positive to him. For example, you could take your spouse’s hands, look into his eyes, and say something affirming. Then you will make a commitment to work on the issue in the session in order to get back into good financial shape. For example, “During this hour I want to work on a plan to have a debt-free vacation for our family.”

2. Strength Training (10 minutes)

It usually takes more than one mistake or circumstance to get into financial trouble. Whether you are working out alone or with someone else, you need to realize that this is the part of the workout where you move from being a victim of your choices or circumstances to taking the necessary steps toward having victory over them.

While step 1 was to start with affirming words and a commitment to work on your money topic, this section is a time to write down your goals so that you will have a tangible and objective standard to work toward. This gives both of you a temporary focus for today and a long-term focus for the next few months, as well as a big-picture view for the future.

Your goals will depend on your topic of the day. For example, if you are discussing a budget, your goals might include (a) setting up a budget that is real and workable, (b) staying on that budget for the next six months in order to learn how to spend less than what you make, and (c) establishing a budget habit that is a financial vehicle that will get your family out of consumer debt, help you pay for your kids’ college, and fund your retirement. Each chapter will guide you specifically through each section of the workout.

This is also the time for you to jot down any obstacles that have come up in the past and to plan how you can overcome them. For example, you may want to budget, but you keep going off budget, which is an obstacle. You could add, “Have accountability about budget” as a means of overcoming that obstacle. Or you could write, “Review budget monthly to stay on task.”

3. Cardio Burn (20 minutes)

In this step, you give feet to your goals. Basically, underneath where you wrote out your goals in step 2, you will write down the steps involved in how you plan to get there from where you are now as well as delegate who is going to be responsible for what, specifically. For example, if you’re setting up a budget, write down the specifics of what your budget needs to include, how you plan to implement your budget, and how often you’ll check in on your progress toward this goal. This may not seem like a lot of time to do all this during this section, but realize that you may not accomplish your goal during your first workout.

You can also carry the work from this section over to the next section— if you don’t have extra work to do in the next session. The key is to keep your discussion moving and to work on what you can. Whatever you don’t finish, you can get to the next time around. There are tools for every chapter in the “Tool Center” link on my Web site, www.elliekay.com.

Discuss and work on a plan for your topic of the day. Yes, this section and the next are the two hardest sections, but they are also the “fat burning” phases where you get the most benefit. When you write down the step-by-step plan for your topic, make sure your approach is realistic, and be sure to give and take when it comes to discussing this topic with your mate.

If you find the discussion stalls or otherwise gets bogged down, then you may want to table a particular point and get back to it later, or you may even need to agree to disagree.

4. Take Your Heart Rate (20 minutes)

This is the point where you do any of the specific work after you’ve written out the step-by-step plan from the previous section. It’s also a time to crunch the numbers and fill in the details (facts and figures) on any tools or work sheets you are using. For example, if you need to get the facts on your credit and debt information, this would be the time to do it. That means you may need to have a computer and Internet access. Don’t worry about the specifics now; this chapter is just an overview of how the program works. Each chapter will list the specifics of what you will need to do for this section. The examples I use here are just to familiarize you with the concept.

If your topic concerns credit and debt, then this would be the time to order a free copy of your credit report at www.annualcreditreport.com. Or if the workout is about saving money, you could use this time to set up an automatic allotment from your paycheck or from your checking to savings accounts. If your plan for the day is debt reduction, you may decide to cut up all but two or three credit cards and cancel some of your open credit accounts (be sure to cancel the most recent cards first and keep the cards you’ve had for five years or longer in order to maintain the longevity part of your FICO—Fair Isaac credit score).

Don’t procrastinate. Do this during this “work” part of the workout. This will help minimize the temptation to procrastinate on the practical aspects of your workout and also keep you on track with your goal for the day. If you don’t have any outside work to do during this time, then feel free to expand your discussion from step 3 in order to reach closure on your topic of the day.

5. Congratulations Cool Down (5 minutes)

Sit back and grab a glass of something cool to drink and reflect on all you’ve accomplished in just one hour! You started on a positive note, and you’re going to end on a positive one as well. If this is an individual workout, tell yourself something that is truthful and encouraging. For example, “I finished the first hour, and if I continue to do this workout, I will master this topic.”

If you are working out with someone else, then take this time to tell your partner one thing that you appreciate about today’s workout to end the discussion on a positive note. For example, you can say, “I noticed you gave my ideas a lot of respect. I appreciate that.” Or, “When I got upset and started to cry, I appreciate the way you weren’t condescending. Thank you.”

Keep in mind that just as you don’t get physically buff after one workout, your finances aren’t going to be in perfect shape after this first effort either. So during this step you will set the topic and the time for your next workout. Maybe you’ll have a continuation of today’s workout, or maybe you’ll look at a new area. Whatever the case, decide what you’re going to cover next time and put it in writing. After you and your mate have exercised with this money workout a half dozen times, you’ll find yourself stronger, smarter, and sweeter.

Workout
Tip Sheet

At the end of every chapter is a “Workout Tip Sheet” that you have on hand to help facilitate the workout and keep it flowing, without wasting time to look back and forth in the chapter. Here’s a sample Workout Tip Sheet.

1. Make-Up-Your-Mind Warm up (5 minutes)

• Say something positive.

• Commit to work on the topic.

2. Strength Training (10 minutes)

• Write down realistic short-term and long-term goals.

• List means of overcoming obstacles.

3. Cardio Burn (20 minutes)

• List specific steps to accomplish each goal and delegate

responsibility.

• Research topical tools at www.elliekay.com.

4. Take Your Heart Rate (20 minutes)

• Implement work on each specific step.

• Fill in facts and figures.

5. Congratulations Cool Down (5 minutes)

• Say something positive.

• Set topic for next workout.

The Walk by Shaun Alexander {Review}

2010-12-03T21:20:00.001-08:00

"Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called. So this I say, and affirm together with the Lord, that you walk no longer just as the Gentiles walk in the futility of their mind. ...walk in love just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us...Therefore, be careful how you walk, not as unwise men, but as wise." (Ephesians 4:1, 17 &5:2, 15 nasb)

I have not yet finished this book, my personal review will come when I've finished it. I will say this, the part I have read (3/4 of it) has been excellent! Not to sound snobbish, but who knew a football player who didn't graduate from Nebraska could be so intelligent?

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:

Shaun Alexander

and the book:

The Walk

WaterBrook Press (October 5, 2010)

***Special thanks to Cindy Brovsky, Marketing and Publicity Coordinator, Doubleday Religion / Waterbrook Multnomah, Divisions of Random House, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Shaun Alexander was drafted by the Seattle Seahawks after a standout football career at the University of Alabama. A three-time Pro Bowl selection, in 2005 he set an NFL record by scoring twenty-eight touchdowns. In the same season, he set a team record by gaining 1,880 rushing yards and leading his team to the Super Bowl. Today, Shaun travels the country speaking to business and military audiences, at sports camps, and at churches and Christian conferences—appearing in front of thousands of people. He is a gifted communicator and Bible teacher who points listeners toward exceptional achievement by aligning their lives with God’s perfect will.

Product Details:

List Price: $17.99
Hardcover: 240 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (October 5, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307459519
ISBN-13: 978-0307459510

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

All through history, people have asked,

“Is there anything not possible?”

—SHAUN ALEXANDER

Sweat drips from my nose as I lean over, hands on my knees, and gasp for breath. I look across the huddle at the left tackle. He’s a high school all-state pick; he’s a college all-American; he’s an all-pro offensive lineman in the National Football League (NFL). Our eyes meet, and I grin at him. He nods back as if to say, “Follow me.”

To my right is the fullback. Blood trickles down his forearm, and mud covers his jersey, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s my running mate and my protector. He leads the way, opening holes in the line and throwing his body against linebackers, safeties, and defensive ends who try to stop me. He catches my eye and winks as if to say, “Let’s do it.”

Moments later the quarterback leans into the huddle. “All right. We need two yards for a first down. Green, power right, check, shift right, F left, ninety-seven OT on two.” This is a play where I follow the fullback to the right through a hole between the right guard and the right tackle.

As we break the huddle, I see the crowd stand to its feet. At the far end of the field, the American flag flaps in the breeze. The crowd is cheering, watching, hoping. Seven yards behind the line of scrimmage, knees bent, cleats digging into the turf, I ease into position.

And then everything slows down—the American flag on its pole, the crowd, the players on the field. As if in slow motion, linemen settle into their stance, planting their hands in the grass. Tension fills the air. Something big is about to happen. The quarterback barks the signals, firm and decisive. “Set. Hut!”

Suddenly there’s a loud pop as our linemen collide with players on the defensive line. Up and down the line of scrimmage, groaning and growling, players wrestle like gladiators. As the quarterback drops back, I step to the right. In the next instant I feel the ball slap against my stomach. I clutch it with both arms. My legs are moving, my mind racing. Read it. Read it. Hit the hole or cut back. “Cut!” I plant my foot and explode through the line.

Ahead of me, the fullback crashes into a linebacker. The slot receiver sprints toward the safety. As they collide, the safety flips into the air.

The crowd gasps.

With the safety out of the way, I move to the left toward the sideline. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the crowd on its feet. Fans are waving their arms and screaming, but all I hear is the whoow, whoow, whoow of my breath as I sprint down the field.

By then the cornerback has taken an angle on me and is closing fast. He cuts into my lead with every step. I run harder and harder, calling on every ounce of strength in my body, past the forty-yard line, then the thirty, and the twenty. The cornerback is closing the gap as my foot crosses the ten-yard line. I can hear him behind me and just to the right. I can feel his eyes boring in on me and know that every muscle in his body is pushing to knock me down.

At the five-yard line he dives, reaching with both hands to make the tackle. His arms brush my cleats. I stumble, put my hand on the ground, then stumble again. All the while I tell myself, Pick up your head. As I stagger to the right, I lift my chin. My feet come under me, and I sweep into the end zone for a touchdown. A sixty-yard run on third-and-two. Now that’s what I’m talking about!

The roar of the crowd echoes in my helmet as I turn to celebrate with my teammates. Then up the field I see the trainer and members of my team running toward the thirty-yard line. A player is lying on the ground, writhing in pain. I jog up the field and join the players who are gathered around him. I can see that his leg is broken, twisted at a sickening angle.

“Get the cart,” someone orders. Others sigh with resignation, knowing an injury like that could take a player out of the game for the remainder of the season, perhaps even for good. Then, without hesitation, some of us kneel beside our injured teammate.

We lay our hands on his leg and begin to pray, invoking God’s healing presence and power. We agree together, just as Scripture says, “Lord, let Your will be done here on earth, as it is in heaven. There are no broken bones in heaven” (see Matthew 6:9–10). As we pray, the player’s shattered bone moves back into place, perfectly aligned and as strong as before. Our teammate looks up at us, his eyes wide with wonder.

How would you express the feeling of having your broken leg repaired by God while you’re lying on a football field?

By then the crowd is silent, many standing with their hands to their faces in a look of amazement. They start to murmur, and the look on their faces says they have never seen anything like this. Even those of us who prayed for our teammate to be healed watch in awe as he trots toward the sideline. I turn to the others, look at them, and point to—

Just then my eyes popped open, and I stared at the ceiling. My heart was pounding. “It was just a dream,” I whispered. I glanced at the alarm clock and rubbed my eyes. “But couldn’t it really happen, just like that?”

I have dreamed that dream many times, wearing the different uniforms of the teams I’ve been a part of in high school, college, and the NFL, and I have realized that I’m not really me in that dream. I represent a Christian who believes in God’s power and lives in such a way that God is free to work through his life. The dream illustrates what God can do through a life that is fully yielded and obedient to Him.

Still, I ask myself, is it possible? Can God do today what He did long ago through men like Moses, Elijah, and the first-century apostles? Is it possible for us to experience His miraculous presence to the same extent they did? I think it is. Scripture certainly suggests that it’s possible. But how?

LIVING YOUR DREAM

Football has been more than a dream for me. I began playing as a young boy, back in Florence, Kentucky. With the help of coaches, my parents, and many others, I developed skills as a player and earned a football scholarship to the University of Alabama. There, I played for Coach Gene Stallings and Mike Dubose with the Crimson Tide. After college I was drafted in the first round (nineteenth overall) to play for the Seattle Seahawks.

My sixth season with the Seahawks was my breakout year. I set a number of team and NFL records and was named the NFL’s Most Valuable Player. At the conclusion of that season, we won the National Football Conference championship and went to the Super Bowl. Although we lost to Pittsburgh, that season was one of my best ever.

As I began my seventh season in 2006, I looked forward to building on what we’d accomplished the prior year. I trained hard and came to the season’s first game with great expectations. We opened that year against the Detroit Lions.

Sometimes life-changing events come to you with a sign written in huge letters that spell out “Your Life Is About to Change.” Other times the moment slips by with little or no recognition. That game against Detroit was one of the latter. I didn’t realize its significance until months afterward.

During that game a defensive lineman fell on my foot, pinning it in place between his body and the ground. He had shot through the line toward me, and as I cut left to escape his grasp, one of his teammates met me face to face. All three of us fell to the ground. This seemed like a normal play: you get the ball, you run, you get tackled. Pads crash, bodies hit the turf, the whistle blows, everybody gets up and tries it again. That’s football. That’s normal.

But on this play my left foot got sandwiched between the ground and the lineman’s three-hundred-pound body. As I trotted back to the huddle, I could feel the pain.

For a football player, physical pain is a way of life. Since I began playing organized football as a young boy, I have taken the field while nursing sprains, strains, and aches in almost every part of my body. That day against Detroit I didn’t think about the pain. But the pain in my foot never went away. I continued to play that day and carried the ball nineteen times for fifty-one yards. The pain was a distraction, and I failed to gain the yardage that I expected of myself, but I wasn’t too concerned.

After the game team doctors told me I had a bone bruise. That’s a medically nonspecific term for “You got hit hard, and the pain goes to the bone.” I spent time with the trainer but continued to play. Two weeks later, in a game against the New York Giants, the bruise became a fracture, and I was out most of the season.

Doctors told me to stay off my foot, so I spent a lot of time reading. One of the books I read goes deep into the reality of spiritual warfare. While reading The Call by Rick Joyner, I realized that God works in an orderly fashion; He is a God of order. And as I listened to God, I saw that some things in my life were out of order.

MEETING THE GOD OF ORDER

I’ve been a Christian since I was ten years old. Loving Jesus has been the center of my life. As important as football has been, it has always been second to following the Lord and allowing Him to work His will through me. As I read Joyner’s book, God spoke to me about how He uses order to bring about His will.

Through the remainder of the NFL season, I continued to do exercises to rehab my injured foot, preparing to return to the game. All the while God was speaking to me about the importance of His order. He doesn’t do things haphazardly. As the Scriptures tell us, God is not a God of confusion or disorder (see 1 Corinthians 14:33). And much more than simply an interesting idea, God’s order became something I felt compelled to apply to my life.

With the Holy Spirit as my Guide, I allowed God to review my friends and relationships, and I started to put people—and especially business relationships—into their proper places. I stopped associating with some of the people I had considered friends and began associating with others I had been neglecting. I discontinued some of the business deals I’d been involved in. At the same time I began to pay closer attention to the things I said, particularly the half truths I would sometimes say in casual conversation or in encouraging others.

I finished that NFL season well. My second game back I had a forty-carry, 200-yard game on Monday Night Football. The Seahawks won the division and were headed to the play-offs. We lost in the divisional playoff game against the Chicago Bears in overtime. I gained 120 yards combined and scored two touchdowns in our losing effort. After missing several games and coming back to finish the season, I was excited about the next year.

The following year my foot was healed, and I looked forward to playing a full season. I performed well through training camp and the preseason games. Then, in the first game of the regular season, I bobbled a pass. As I dove to catch it, I fell on my arm and broke my left wrist. Team doctors put my wrist and hand in a cast, and I continued to play, but the cast did little to protect my broken wrist. The weight of it actually caused additional pain, and I struggled to get past that injury. Additional injuries nagged at me for the remainder of the season.

For the fifth year in a row the Seahawks went to the play-offs. We won the division title for the fourth consecutive year. I was happy for the team, but personally I had a year that fell well short of what I expected. The bruises, strains, and broken bones were adding up, and I wondered if they were a signal. Was God using the pain in my body to prepare me mentally and emotionally for a shift to a new stage in my life?

As the following spring approached, I sensed something was going on with the team. Changes were in the wind, but I didn’t know what the changes might bring. Then, as the time for spring conditioning camp approached, the Seahawks’ managers called me. “We’re making changes. We want to take a different direction. We’re releasing you from the team.” And just like that, I was out of the NFL.

Aside from my desire to love and serve God, football had been the primary focus of my life. It was the means God had used to lift me from the small town of Florence, Kentucky, to a life that few athletes ever experience. But I never lost sight of the fact that God—and not the Seattle Seahawks or the University of Alabama or Boone County High School back home—was the One who was blessing me. God is the Source of all goodness and beauty, all truth and love, and it was His favor that took me to the places I’d gone, even to the discouraging day when the Seahawks let me go. I had things I still wanted to do as a football player, but I said, “God’s will be done,” and went home to find out what that would mean.

A NEW WAY OF WALKING

Over the next few months, I wrestled with a new direction for my career and my life. During that time God challenged me. “Meet Me at five in the morning. Let’s talk for an hour, every day.” That was a wonderful invitation. The Creator of the universe wanted to spend an hour with me every day. I was excited about it, but there was a problem. He wanted to meet me in the morning. At five o’clock.

Reading the Bible has always been important to me. When I was younger, I read because that was what I was told to do. Later I realized Scripture was a powerful tool God could use in my life. Once I understood that, I began to read and study every day. I prayed every day, too, some days almost constantly, but I heard the voice of God speaking to me more when I read the Scriptures. So I was eager to meet with Him every day, even though I am not a morning person. “See Me at nine; see Me at ten”—that would be easy. But at five in the morning, I’m usually sound asleep. Yet this was God issuing an invitation, and I had to respond.

The first ten days were tough. They were like two-a-days at training camp in July or August. I set the alarm, pushed myself out of bed when it rang, and found my way to a quiet spot in the house. Although I was excited about the new venture, it was rough.

Days eleven through fifteen were better, but I still was grinding it out. And then, about day sixteen, things began to click. I found myself praying, “God, I want You to be in me and on me.” I didn’t know where that prayer came from; it just rose up within me. Later that week I found a verse in the gospel of John that said,

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. (14:16–17)

Jesus was asking His Father to send us a Gift, and none of us could have imagined a bigger, more life-changing gift. Jesus sent us the Holy Spirit, who will live “with you and will be in you.” I began to get excited, not just about the idea of the Holy Spirit living in me and on me, but by the fact that a prayer, consistent with what Jesus had already said, had come from deep within my spirit. The reference in the gospel of John, “with you and…in you,” isn’t an exact match to the words I had been praying, but it was very close. “With you and in you; in me and on me.” After I saw that verse, getting up early in the morning to spend time with God wasn’t such a chore.

As God and I continued our morning visits, He began to break that concept down for me. “In you”—the knowing, inner sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit that says, “Go this way; say these words.” The Holy Spirit living inside us guides our life and affects what we do and say on the outside.

“On you”—the miraculous, powerful presence of God made obvious and tangible to others through signs and wonders. As we follow Christ and learn to obey Him, God works in us and uses us in the lives of other people.

During the next few days alone with God, I came to a fresh realization that Jesus really lived and walked on earth. He actually died on the cross, rose again, and sent the Holy Spirit to us. In the process my prayer life took on new energy and importance. When I prayed, the same Spirit whom Jesus sent to His followers was in me and on me. To say I felt a tingling sensation all over sounds a little over the top, but that’s the best way I can describe how I felt. Every cell in my body seemed alive and awake, an experience I’d never had before. My spirit was quickened to the freshness of Scripture.

That new sense of being alive in Christ wasn’t confined only to my prayer time early in the mornings. When I prayed for others in meetings or in private, I began to “know” things and “see” things about them. I would picture the person I was praying for, and I’d see some great things and sometimes awful things. At times I would see some very intimate things about the person, but always it would be an insight into what that person needed at the moment. God was giving me these insights, and I was compelled to act. One moment it would be a word or scripture that seemed appropriate and fitting. The next it would be something that had just happened to the person I was praying for, something I had no way of knowing about. And at times it would be something so obvious that it sounded trite. But regardless of how it sounded to me, I did my best to obey God and deliver His message to the person.

At a meeting one night a woman asked me to pray for her. As I touched her hands, I knew in my heart I was supposed to tell her, “Jesus loves you.” That sounds like such a cliché, you could easily say, “Very profound, Shaun. The Holy Spirit had to tell you that? Everybody knows Jesus loves us.”

Yet I knew in my heart the issue wasn’t about theology or slogans or how perceptive it made me appear. The issue was whether I would say those words at that moment to that woman. Would I obey the leading of the Holy Spirit—that still, small voice speaking to me inside—and trust that God knew what He was doing?

It seemed a little awkward, but I smiled at her and said, “You know, I think I’m supposed to tell you, ‘Jesus loves you.’” As I said those words, tears came rolling down her cheeks, and she received a tremendous release of the Lord’s presence in her life. I don’t know anything else about her, and I said nothing else to her that night. But God knew exactly what she needed. For her, hearing those words opened a door inside that allowed God to minister to her. That’s the presence of the Holy Spirit in you and on you.

Another time, my cousin Ben had some friends over. I told them about the prayer time I’d been having and about how real God’s presence was, not only during morning prayer time, but throughout the day. Later in the evening Ben and his friends and I gathered and began to pray. As we did that, I felt led to go around the group and pray for each person individually.

The first one I prayed for was a guy named Cory. Then I moved to Ben. After him I came to a guy I had never met before that night. As I started to pray, I felt certain I should touch his eyes. When I touched him, I knew the Holy Spirit wanted me to tell him, “You will sleep again.”

I knew nothing about him, and I had no idea what those words meant, but I said them just the same. I admit that was strange, but I went on praying for his life and future.

When I finished praying for each person, I asked Cory to stand up. I laid my hand on the top of his head and prayed for God to touch him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Cory smiled and sat back down. We laughed a little about it, and then I asked Cory what he felt. He said, “Honestly, I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. But when you touched my head and started praying for me, my feet felt like they were on fire.”

Afterward, as everyone was leaving, the young man in his early twenties whom I’d never met before that night—the one I had told, “You will sleep again”—took me aside and said, “You were right-on with that prayer about sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep much in weeks.”

THE SPIRIT IN YOU AND ON YOU

When I was a young boy, I saw a movie called The Last Dragon. You probably can still find it in a rental store or on the discount shelf at a big box retailer. The star of the movie was Leroy Green, a man who never fully believed in himself as a kung fu master. But one day he had to defend the love of his life against a man named Sho’nuf. One of the catch lines from the movie is “Who’s the master?” As they fought, Sho’nuf kept asking Leroy, “Who’s the master?” With Leroy backed into a corner, Sho’nuf moved in to deliver the knockout punch. As he did, he asked again, “Who’s the master?” At that moment Leroy reached up and caught Sho’nuf’s fist. Holding it there a moment, he replied, “I am.” And with that a glow came over him. He began to kick and punch with more power. He won the fight and the love of the girl. He became the master that was always inside him. It took his being involved in that fight for him to find it.

The Last Dragon is fiction, but there’s truth in its message. God offers each of us an anointing in Christ. That anointing is available to every Believer once we find out who we really are in Christ.

My early morning prayer regimen continued for about sixty days. Each day I awakened at five and spent at least an hour with God. During that time the Holy Spirit brought to mind the ideas about God’s order that had occurred to me when I read The Call. I realized that my new experiences with the power and majesty of God’s presence in me and on me had to do with the order God follows when He works in our lives. I marveled at how God had begun a conversation with me two years earlier, then had come back to finish it as if the conversation had never been interrupted.

I heard the Holy Spirit say, “This is what happens when you walk the Walk. Not perfection. I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for order.”

In the following chapters we will explore that order—the order of life, the stages through which we grow on the way to spiritual maturity in Christ. God can and does use anyone for anything at any time. But in the broader sense of where He begins with us and where He is taking each of us, there is a divinely appointed order, and there is a progression to the way He works in our lives. God meets us when we are Unbelievers. He speaks to us and reveals Himself, and we become Believers. As we grow in Christ, we become Examples, and then Teachers. And in the lives of many of Christ’s followers, God calls them to do the work of Imparters. They do the miraculous work of Christ on earth, just as the first disciples did.

The five stages and their sequence are important: Unbeliever, Believer, Example, Teacher, Imparter. Skip a stage in the maturity process, and error will creep in. Get ahead of God, and things will start to go wrong. But follow His order in your life, and you will see amazing things happen.

Baby Bible Christmas Story Book {Review}

2010-12-02T20:56:00.000-08:00

(You can find my personal review of The Baby Bible Story Book here.)

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:

Robin Currie

and the book:

Baby Bible Christmas Storybook

David C. Cook; Brdbk edition (October 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to Karen Davis, Assistant Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Rev. Dr. Robin Currie is the Early Childhood Librarian/Preschool Liaison for the Glen Ellyn Public Library and serves on the staff of St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, a Chicago suburb. She is also the retired pastor of Grace Lutheran Church in Glen Ellyn. Before and during seminary she was a children’s librarian for public libraries in Illinois and Iowa. She holds master’s degrees in Library Science from the University of Iowa and in Divinity from the Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago, as well as a Doctor of Ministry in preaching from LSTC. Her published books include seven resource collections for librarians and over a dozen children’s Bible story collections.

Visit the author's blog.

Product Details:

List Price: $9.99
Reading level: Ages 4-8
Board book: 36 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; Brdbk edition (October 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0781403685
ISBN-13: 978-0781403689

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER (Click on pictures to see them larger):

Joy To The World {Book Review}

2010-11-04T08:20:00.001-07:00

Joy To The World is a book by Kathleen M. Basi and published by Liguori Press. I received a copy of it for review purposes.
The book is subtitled "Advent Activities for Your Family". It gives a brief history of Advent, talks about the Morning and Evening ritual, and gives you ideas of activities you can do as a family every day during the Advent Season.

Here's a treasure trove of exciting ideas that will enable your family to focus anew on preparing for the holy time of Advent and Christmas!
Chock full of innovative ideas, this booklet offers a fresh, lively set of suggestions that will attract young and old alike. It will lay the foundation for long-lasting family memories.

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:

Kathleen M. Basi

and the book:

Joy to the World: Advent Activities for your Family
Liguori Publications (July 1, 2010)
***Special thanks to Rebecca Molen of Liguori Publications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kathleen Basi is a stay-at-home mom, freelance writer, flute and voice teacher, composer, choir director, natural family planning teacher, scrapbooker, sometime-chef and budding disability rights activist. She puts her juggling skills on display on her website (see below).
Visit the author's website.
Product Details:
List Price: $5.99
Paperback: 80 pages
Publisher: Liguori Publications (July 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0764819372
ISBN-13: 978-0764819377
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Introduction
Reclaiming
Advent
Call it December madness: On the day after Thanksgiving 2008, a seasonal worker was trampled to death by shoppers swarming a department store at opening time. In mid-America, two women got into a fist fight over a toy, and the store personnel had to pull them off each other.
At this time of year, it’s hardly possible to escape feeling rushed, harried, and overwhelmed. It seems like every year the Christmas decorations at the mall go up a little earlier, and all the news reports dwell on how much money retailers are (or aren’t) going to make. The ad inserts get fatter and the TV shouts: “No need to wait! Zero down! No interest for thirteen months! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”
Just about everyone gripes about it, but no one seems to know what to do about it. Some families throw out the whole secular celebration in an attempt to prevent materialism from overwhelming both Advent and Christmas. But most families feel—rightly so—that they shouldn’t have to choose one over the other. It’s supposed to be “the most wonderful time of the year,” but often families feel stressed as the calendar fills up with recitals, shopping, parties, and housecleaning. In this atmosphere filled with distractions, the idea of Advent as a season in its own right has been overwhelmed. How can we wait for Christmas when we never have to wait for anything else?
Christmas is not about children, gifts, cookies, or trees. It’s about a love so powerful that God came to earth to dwell among us: human and divine intertwining—a holy union of wills that reaches its apex not in birth, but in crucifixion and resurrection. In salvation.
And we spend December fighting over Blu-ray discs and toys?
It’s time to reclaim Advent—that season of holy hush, of waiting, of light and anticipation—that season that helps make Christmas so special. We can’t withdraw from the world, but we can take the trappings of the season and infuse them with a deeper meaning. Joy to the World: Advent Activities for Your Family outlines a way to reconcile the secular with the sacred—to celebrate them side-by-side, to mold them into a single, month-long “liturgy,” and in so doing, to enrich both celebrations.
Chapter 1 presents a brief overview of Advent and why it is important. Chapter 2 introduces the three parts of the Advent Reclamation Project, which are explained more fully in Chapters 3 through 5. Chapter 6 offers suggestions for other traditions that families or parish communities might choose to adopt as their own, and in the appendices, you will find resources to flesh out the earlier chapters.
Early childhood is the ideal time to start developing family traditions, so this book is aimed at young families. Each chapter contains a short italicized section to be read directly to children, explaining some part of the celebration. As your family grows, you can adapt the traditions to fit your own circumstances. Many of the ideas will also translate to the classroom. Remember that Advent, like Sabbath, was not created for God’s sake, but for ours (see Mark 2:27). God doesn’t need it. We do.
Chapter
1
The Case
For Advent
Advent holds a unique place in the Christian calendar. For Catholics, it is the beginning of the liturgical year. It is a season in which the church is decked out in purple—a sign of penitence—yet the Scriptures also speak of joy, hope, and light.
The word “Advent” comes from a Latin word meaning arrival or coming. In the earliest days of the Church, all of life focused on the passion, death, and resurrection of Christ. After all, the Apostles expected the Second Coming during their lifetimes.
At this time, the ancient pagan cultures structured their seasonal celebrations on nature. The celebration of the winter solstice was the biggest festival of the year in ancient times. It centered upon the shortest day of the year—the day when the “unconquered” sun began slowly to take back the days. Gift-giving, feasting, lights, and greenery all originated in these pagan celebrations. As Christianity expanded into these lands, the Church adopted many of these traditions, infusing them with Christian meaning in order to ease the transition for its new members. Thus, sometime in the fourth century ad, Christmas—and Advent—made their appearances.
Originally, Advent was a forty-day period of fasting and penitence—a parallel to Lent. In the early centuries, the Church focused on preparing for the Second Coming. Not until the middle ages did Advent begin to point toward the birth of Christ. Over the centuries, many traditions cropped up surrounding the season. The Advent wreath grew out of a Pagan tradition of lighting candles to signify the hope of spring. The Jesse tree probably originated in Northern Europe, where lineage and genealogy determined one’s place in society. The Jesse tree taught the faithful about Jesus’ royal lineage. Over time, these customs (and the meanings associated with them) have evolved. Some grew more important, others less so.
Nowadays, the secular culture and many Protestant denominations make no distinction between Advent and Christmas. The Sundays of December are filled with the story of the Christ Child, and the Christmas celebration is over and done around New Year’s. But in Catholic tradition, the season of Advent focuses on the two “comings” of Christ—the Incarnation, when God came to Earth as human child, and the glorious Second Coming at the end of time. In fact, the readings for the first two weeks of Advent speak of John the Baptist “preparing the way” for Jesus, the grown man who turned the world upside down. Only in the later part of Advent does our focus zero in on Bethlehem.
This duality is something we experience even with our senses. Catholic churches are hung with violet for these four weeks—the color traditionally associated with penitence. But the purple we use at this time of year is different from the purple of Lent; it is meant to be a richer, royal purple, reminding us also that Christ is King.
Advent gives us a chance to meditate on:
Hope—for deliverance;
Expectation—for the coming of one who will bring justice to an unjust world;
Preparation—so that we may prepare our hearts to receive Christ, who is
Light—the light of the world.
These are beautiful themes. Why should Advent be shoved into a corner, nothing more than four weeks of filler before Christmas? Advent can be a magical time, if we approach it the right way.
Advent does not need to become a “second Lent,” but the violet hangings and vestments remind us that penitence remains an important part of the season. Advent gives us the chance to examine our hearts and “defrag” our scattered souls. To reorder our thinking and our priorities. To point our lives, for four weeks, toward Christmas, so that when we reach the holiday, it has meaning and beauty that is distinct from the four preceding weeks.
Nor is Christmas the end of the journey. Without Holy Week and the resurrection, the manger in Bethlehem would be unremarkable: just one more baby born in poverty. For Christians, the destination is Easter. Glorious as it is, Christmas is a stop along the way.
For the children:
Even though all the advertisements on TV are about Christmas, right now we are actually in the season of Advent. During Advent, our job is to get ready for Jesus to come and live in our hearts. At Christmas, we will celebrate Jesus being born as a baby—but he has promised us that he will come back again someday, and we need to be ready. One way we do this is by remembering our sins and trying to do better. This is called penitence, and it is why the church is decorated in purple. But Advent is also about looking forward to Jesus coming. We are excited because Jesus is the light of the world, and when he comes, he will make the world fair for everyone.

Everything Christmas {Book Review}

2010-11-03T06:25:00.000-07:00

It would look a lot like Christmas, if it weren't 50 degrees and if we had some snow. But I've been reading Christmas books and listening to Christmas music already. I don't normally start any Christmas decorating or music before December 15. December 15 is the traditional day we get our tree and out come the decorations en masse. But this year, I started early.
Like October early.
I read Everything Christmas by David Borden and Tom Winters, published by Waterbrook Press. On the cover it says, "Celebrate the Joy of the Advent Season with the Best of Christmas, Past & Present."
Everything Christmas is a collection of stories, recipes, anecdotes all pertaining to Christmas and the Advent Season. It has lyrics to Christmas carols/songs and gives a brief history about the carol. I love that part!
The book is designed to be read during Advent. Each "Chapter" takes one day starting with December 1 and going through December 24th. There are various recipes in it. There are recipes for Apple Pie, Biscotti, Cornish hens, Green bean casserole, Oyster Dressing, Holiday Cheesecake, Roasted goose (In case your goose isn't cooked) and the ever popular (at least in song) Figgy pudding.
It also has Christmas quotations by such people as: Norman Vincent Peale, Maltbie Davenport Babcock, Bob Hope, and Wilda English. Here is a favorite quote by Fulton John Sheen that I found in the book.

The simple shepherds heard the voice of an angel
and found their Lamb; the wise men saw the light of a star
and found their Wisdom.

Isn't that the best quote!

Also in the book you will learn traditional Christmas dinners from countries like Argentina, France, Jamaica, and Puerto Rico. You will also get to read such Christmas poems as A Babe is born in Bethlehem--Author unknown, A bed in My Heart by Martin Luther, and Little Tree by E.E. Cummings.

I highly recommend this book! Even if you don't "celebrate" Advent, the book is just too delightful to pass up. So hurry and get it before December 1!

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 authors are:

David Bordon
and
Thomas J. Winters

and the book:
Everything Christmas
WaterBrook Press (October 5, 2010)
***Special thanks to Staci Carmichael, Marketing and Publicity Coordinator, Doubleday Religion / Waterbrook Multnomah, Divisions of Random House, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

David Bordon and Tom Winters are partners in Bordon-Winters, LLC, a book concept and packaging company that produces successful books and gift products. Their previous titles include the 101 Things You Should Do series, especially the popular 101 Things You Should Do Before Going to Heaven.
Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Hardcover: 320 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (October 5, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 030772929X
ISBN-13: 978-0307729293
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

December 1
Let Us Keep Christmas
Grace Noll Crowell
Whatever else be lost among the years,
Let us keep Christmas still a shining thing;
Whatever doubts assail us, or what fears,
Let us hold close one day, remembering
It’s poignant meaning for the hearts of men.
Let us get back our childlike faith again.
The History of Christmas
Many of our Christmas traditions were celebrated centuries before the Christ child was born. The twelve days of Christmas, the bright fires, the yule log, gift giving, carnivals, carolers going from house to house, holiday feasts, even church processions can all be traced back to the early Mesopotamians. These traditions were passed down throughout the known world and were popular in Rome long before the birth of Christ.
Most historians say that some three centuries after the birth of Christ, Christianity was spreading rapidly. Church leaders were alarmed that their converts continued to honor the ancient celebrations honoring pagan gods. Early Christians had chosen to keep the birth of their Christ child a solemn and religious holiday, without merriment. For centuries they had forbidden their members to take part in those ancient celebrations. But now it seemed it was a losing battle. As a compromise, they agreed to allow their members to partake in a demure and respectful celebration of the birth of Christ. Thus, the Christian celebration we know as Christmas was born in Rome, near the date 336 AD.
The actual date of Christ’s birth is unknown, so the early Christians chose December 25, probably to compete with the wildly popular Roman festival of Saturnalia. Eventually, most of the customs from the festival of Saturnalia were adopted into the celebration of Christmas and given new and sacred meanings.
Today, Christmas is both a holiday and a holy day. In America, it is the biggest event of the year, celebrated by people of all ages.
Christmas Every Day
William Dean Howells
The little girl came into her papa’s study, as she always did Saturday morning before breakfast, and asked for a story. He tried to beg off that morning, for he was very busy, but she would not let him. So he began:
“Well, once there was a little pig—”
She stopped him at the word. She said she had heard little pig stories till she was perfectly sick of them.
“Well, what kind of story shall I tell, then?”
“About Christmas. It’s getting to be the season.”
“Well!” Her papa roused himself. “Then I’ll tell you about the little girl that wanted it Christmas every day in the year. How would you like that?”
“First-rate!” said the little girl; and she nestled into comfortable shape in his lap, ready for listening.
“Very well, then, this little pig—Oh, what are you pounding me for?”
“Because you said little pig instead of little girl.”
“I should like to know what’s the difference between a little pig and a little girl that wanted Christmas every day!”
“Papa!” said the little girl warningly. At this her papa began to tell the story.
Once there was a little girl who liked Christmas so much that she wanted it to be Christmas every day in the year, and as soon as Thanksgiving was over she began to send postcards to the old Christmas Fairy to ask if she mightn’t have it. But the old Fairy never answered, and after a while the little girl found out that the Fairy wouldn’t notice anything but real letters sealed outside with a monogram—or your initial, anyway. So, then, she began to send letters, and just the day before Christmas, she got a letter from the Fairy, saying she might have it Christmas every day for a year, and then they would see about having it longer.
The little girl was excited already, preparing for the old-fashioned, once-a-year Christmas that was coming the next day. So she resolved to keep the Fairy’s promise to herself and surprise everybody with it as it kept coming true, but then it slipped out of her mind altogether.
She had a splendid Christmas. She went to bed early, so as to let Santa Claus fill the stockings, and in the morning she was up the first of anybody and found hers all lumpy with packages of candy, and oranges and grapes, and rubber balls, and all kinds of small presents. Then she waited until the rest of the family was up, and she burst into the library to look at the large presents laid out on the library table—books, and boxes of stationery, and dolls, and little stoves, and dozens of handkerchiefs, and inkstands, and skates, and photograph frames, and boxes of watercolors, and dolls’ houses—and the big Christmas tree, lighted and standing in the middle.
She had a splendid Christmas all day. She ate so much candy that she did not want any breakfast, and the whole forenoon the presents kept pouring in that had not been delivered the night before, and she went round giving the presents she had got for other people, and came home and ate turkey and cranberry for dinner, and plum pudding and nuts and raisins and oranges, and then went out and coasted, and came in with a stomachache crying, and her papa said he would see if his house was turned into that sort of fool’s paradise another year, and they had a light supper, and pretty early everybody went to bed cross.
The little girl slept very heavily and very late, but she was wakened at last by the other children dancing around her bed with their stockings full of presents in their hands. “Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!” they all shouted.
“Nonsense! It was Christmas yesterday,” said the little girl, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
Her brothers and sisters just laughed. “We don’t know about that. It’s Christmas today, anyway. You come into the library and see.”
Then all at once it flashed on the little girl that the Fairy was keeping her promise, and her year of Christmases was beginning. She was dreadfully sleepy, but she sprang up and darted into the library. There it was again! Books, and boxes of stationery, and dolls, and so on.
There was the Christmas tree blazing away, and the family picking out their presents, and her father looking perfectly puzzled, and her mother ready to cry. “I’m sure I don’t see how I’m to dispose of all these things,” said her mother, and her father said it seemed to him they had had something just like it the day before, but he supposed he must have dreamed it. This struck the little girl as the best kind of a joke, and so she ate so much candy she didn’t want any breakfast, and went round carrying presents, and had turkey and cranberry for dinner, and then went out and coasted, and came in with a stomachache, crying.
Now, the next day, it was the same thing over again, but everybody getting crosser, and at the end of a week’s time so many people had lost their tempers that you could pick up lost tempers anywhere, they perfectly strewed the ground. Even when people tried to recover their tempers they usually got somebody else’s, and it made the most dreadful mix.
The little girl began to get frightened, keeping the secret all to herself, she wanted to tell her mother, but she didn’t dare to, and she was ashamed to ask the Fairy to take back her gift, it seemed ungrateful and ill-bred. So it went on and on, and it was Christmas on St. Valentine’s Day and Washington’s Birthday, just the same as any day, and it didn’t skip even the First of April, though everything was counterfeit that day, and that was some little relief.
After a while turkeys got to be awfully scarce, selling for about a thousand dollars apiece. They got to passing off almost anything for turkeys—even half-grown hummingbirds. And cranberries—well they asked a diamond apiece for cranberries. All the woods and orchards were cut down for Christmas trees. After a while they had to make Christmas trees out of rags. But there were plenty of rags, because people got so poor, buying presents for one another, that they couldn’t get any new clothes, and they just wore their old ones to tatters. They got so poor that everybody had to go to the poorhouse, except the confectioners, and the storekeepers, and the book sellers, and they all got so rich and proud that they would hardly wait upon a person when he came to buy. It was perfectly shameful!
After it had gone on about three or four months, the little girl, whenever she came into the room in the morning and saw those great ugly, lumpy stockings dangling at the fireplace, and the disgusting presents around everywhere, used to sit down and burst out crying. In six months she was perfectly exhausted, she couldn’t even cry anymore.
And now it was on the Fourth of July! On the Fourth of July, the first boy in the United States woke up and found out that his firecrackers and toy pistol and two-dollar collection of fireworks were nothing but sugar and candy painted up to look like fireworks. Before ten o’clock every boy in the United States discovered that his July Fourth things had turned into Christmas things and was so mad. The Fourth of July orations all turned into Christmas carols, and when anybody tried to read the Declaration of Independence, instead of saying, “When in the course of human events it becomes necessary,” he was sure to sing, “God rest you merry gentlemen.” It was perfectly awful.
About the beginning of October the little girl took to sitting down on dolls wherever she found them—she hated the sight of them so, and by Thanksgiving she just slammed her presents across the room. By that time people didn’t carry presents around nicely anymore. They flung them over the fence or through the window, and, instead of taking great pains to write “For dear Papa,” or “Mama “ or “Brother,” or “Sister,” they used to write, “Take it, you horrid old thing!” and then go and bang it against the front door.
Nearly everybody had built barns to hold their presents, but pretty soon the barns overflowed, and then they used to let them lie out in the rain, or anywhere. Sometimes the police used to come and tell them to shovel their presents off the sidewalk or they would arrest them.
Before Thanksgiving came it had leaked out who had caused all these Christmases. The little girl had suffered so much that she had talked about it in her sleep, and after that hardly anybody would play with her, because if it had not been for her greediness it wouldn’t have happened. And now, when it came Thanksgiving, and she wanted them to go to church, and have turkey, and show their gratitude, they said that all the turkeys had been eaten for her old Christmas dinners and if she would stop the Christmases, they would see about the gratitude. And the very next day the little girl began sending letters to the Christmas Fairy, and then telegrams, to stop it. But it didn’t do any good, and then she got to calling at the Fairy’s house, but the girl that came to the door always said, “Not at home,” or “Engaged,” or something like that, and so it went on till it came to the old once-a-year Christmas Eve. The little girl fell asleep, and when she woke up in the morning—
“She found it was all nothing but a dream,” suggested the little girl.
“No indeed!” said her papa. “It was all every bit true!”
“What did she find out, then?”
“Why, that it wasn’t Christmas at last, and wasn’t ever going to be, anymore. Now it’s time for breakfast.”
The little girl held her papa fast around the neck.
“You shan’t go if you’re going to leave it so!”
“How do you want it left?”
“Christmas once a year.”
“All right,” said her papa, and he went on again.
Well, with no Christmas ever again, there was the greatest rejoicing all over the country. People met together everywhere and kissed and cried for joy. Carts went around and gathered up all the candy and raisins and nuts, and dumped them into the river, and it made the fish perfectly sick. And the whole United States, as far out as Alaska, was one blaze of bonfires, where the children were burning up their presents of all kinds. They had the greatest time!
The little girl went to thank the old Fairy because she had stopped its being Christmas, and she said she hoped the Fairy would keep her promise and see that Christmas never, never came again. Then the Fairy frowned, and said that now the little girl was behaving just as greedily as ever, and she’d better look out. This made the little girl think it all over carefully again, and she said she would be willing to have it Christmas about once in a thousand years, and then she said a hundred, and then she said ten, and at last she got down to one. Then the Fairy said that was the good old way that had pleased people ever since Christmas began, and she was agreed. Then the little girl said, “What’re your shoes made of?” And the Fairy said, “Leather.” And the little girl said, “Bargain’s done forever,” and skipped off, and hippity-hopped the whole way home, she was so glad.
“How will that do?” asked the papa.
“First-rate!” said the little girl, but she hated to have the story stop, and was rather sober. However, her mama put her head in at the door and asked her papa:
“Are you never coming to breakfast? What have you been telling that child?”
“Oh, just a tale with a moral.”
The little girl caught him around the neck again.
“We know! Don’t you tell what, papa! Don’t you tell what!”
William Dean Howells (1837—1920) Best known as an editor and critic, this American fiction writer produced more than forty novels and story collections. He challenged American authors to choose American subjects, portray them honestly, and create characters who use native-American speech. As a critic, he helped to introduce writers like Mark Twain, Hamlin Garland, and Stephen Crane to American readers.
What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past,
courage for the present, hope for the future.
It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow
with blessings rich and eternal, and that
every path may lead to peace.
Agnes M. Pharo
Scented Applesauce-Cinnamon
Ornaments
3 cups applesauce
3 cups ground cinnamon
Mix applesauce and cinnamon together until it is thick enough to hold a form. Flatten the mixture on a flat surface and cut into cookie-cutter shapes.
Place cookie shapes on a cookie sheet to dry for 3 to 4 days depending on the size and thickness of the cookies. If using as a hanging ornament, make a hole with a toothpick before drying.
Makes 15 ornaments.
Chestnut Dressing
8 Tbsp. butter
3 ribs celery with leaves, chopped
16 ounces chestnuts
1 large chopped onion
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1 pound sourdough bread, cubed
3 cups turkey stock
Preheat oven to 400°F. Cut a deep X into the flattest side of each chestnut and place in a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake 30 minutes, or until outer skin of chestnut splits. Wrap roasted chestnuts in a towel to keep warm. Peel off the tough outer skin of the chestnut and thinner inner skin with a sharp knife. Chop the chestnuts coarsely and set aside.
Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes. Empty skillet contents into a large bowl. Add cubed bread, parsley, and enough stock to moisten the mix, about 2 1/2 cups. Stir in chestnuts and add salt and pepper to taste.
Use to stuff poultry or place in a buttered baking dish, drizzle with 1/2 cup more stock, and bake 30 minutes to an hour.
Makes 10–11 cups.
Roasted Goose
1 goose, 10–12 pounds
1 orange, halved
kosher salt and black pepper, to taste
For giblet stock (used in gravy):
2 onions, quartered
1 carrot, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 pints of water
2 sprigs of sage
2 sprigs fresh thyme
1 Tbsp. cornstarch (to thicken)
The goose should be defrosted and left at room temperature for at least 2 or 3 hours before cooking to bring it to equilibrium. This will improve the overall texture of the finished product. Remove the giblets from the goose and set aside. Wash the bird thoroughly inside and out with cool water and pat dry with a kitchen towel. Cut away any loose pieces of fat. Then rub the orange inside and outside of the bird. Mix the salt and pepper and rub into the skin and inside the cavity of the bird to season it.
Preheat the oven to 425°F.
Truss the bird by folding the wings back under the body. Then tie the legs together with butcher’s twine. Lightly prick the skin of the bird several times with a fork to allow the fat to adequately render during the cooking process. It is important not to pierce the flesh of the bird. Place the goose breast-side up on a rack in the roasting pan, and bake in the oven for approximately 30 minutes to develop some initial color. Then reduce the oven temperature to 325°F and continue cooking for approximately 3 hours.
Make a simple giblet stock to fortify and enrich the gravy while the goose is roasting by placing the giblets in a saucepan with some goose fat and cooking over low heat until browned. Add chopped onion, carrot, celery, herbs, and water. Bring to a boil and then simmer gently for about one hour. Strain and cool until needed.
The goose is done when the internal temperature of the thigh reaches 175°F. For a visual test to see if the goose is cooked, insert a skewer into the thickest part of the thigh. If the juices run clear, then it is ready. If not, then return to the oven for additional roasting time.
Once the goose is cooked, allow it to rest for 20–30 minutes. This will allow the meat to firm up and will help retain the juiciness of the bird. Remove all of the drippings from the roasting pan, strain, and remove the fat. Add these defatted drippings to the giblet broth and season to taste. To thicken the gravy, combine 1 Tbsp. of cornstarch with 3 Tbsp. of water and add to the gravy. Bring to a boil and simmer for 1–2 minutes or until thickened.
O Little Town of Bethlehem
Phillips Brooks
O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars together, proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth!
How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is giv’n;
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav’n.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.
Where children pure and happy pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to Thee, Son of the mother mild;
Where charity stands watching and faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more.
O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!
Historical Note:
On Christmas Eve, 1865, Phillips Brooks was in Jerusalem, a trip intended to inspire spiritual rebirth after the horrors of the Civil War. Just a few months earlier, he had spoken at the funeral of President Abraham Lincoln. That clear night as he walked the streets of the Holy City, he had a sudden inspiration. Renting a horse, he set out for Bethlehem. After a solitary journey under the clear night sky, Brooks reached the tiny, remote village and was surrounded by the spirit of the first Christmas. His impoverished soul was refreshed as he considered what had happened there so many years before. Three years later on Christmas Eve, 1868, as he sat alone in his study preparing his sermon for the next day, he felt inspired to pen the words to this beautiful carol.
I, the Lord All-Powerful,
will send my messenger
to prepare the way for me.
Then suddenly the Lord
you are looking for
will appear in his temple.
The messenger you desire
is coming with my promise,
and he is on his way.
(Malachi 3:1, cev)

Catching MoonDrops {Review}

2010-10-18T09:45:00.001-07:00

I'm still working on this one.
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:

Jennifer Erin Valent

and the book:
Catching Moondrops
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. (September 20, 2010)
***Special thanks to Maggie Rowe of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jennifer Erin Valent is the 2007 winner of the Christian Writers Guild's Operation First Novel contest. A lifelong resident of the South, her surroundings help to color the scenes and characters she writes. In fact, the childhood memory of a dilapidated Ku Klux Klan billboard inspired her portrayal of Depression-era racial prejudice in Fireflies in December. She has spent the past 15 years working as a nanny and has dabbled in freelance, writing articles for various Christian women's magazines. She still resides in her hometown of Richmond, Virginia.
Visit the author's website.
Product Details:
List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 384 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. (September 20, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414333277
ISBN-13: 978-1414333274
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

There’s nothing in this whole world like the sight of a man swinging by his neck.
Folks in my parts liked to call it “lynching,” as if by calling it another word they could keep from feeling like murderers. Sometimes when they string a man up, they gather around like vultures looking for the next meal, staring at the cockeyed neck, the sagging limbs, their lips turning up at the corners when they should be turning down. For some people, time has a way of blurring the good and the bad, spitting out that thing called conscience and replacing it with a twisted sort of logic that makes right out of wrong.
Our small town of Calloway, Virginia, had that sort of logic in spades, and after the trouble it had caused my family over the years, I knew that better than most. But the violence had long since faded away, and my best friend Gemma would often tell me that made it okay—her being kept separate from white folks. “Long as my bein’ with your family don’t bring danger down on your heads, I’ll keep my peace and be thankful,” she’d say.
But I didn’t feel so calm about it all as Gemma did. Part of that was my stubborn temperament, but most of it was my intuition. I’d been eyeball to eyeball with pure hate more than once in my eighteen years, and I could smell it, like rotting flesh. Hate is a type of blindness that divides a man from his good sense. I’d seen it in the eyes of a Klansman the day he tried to choke the life out of me and in the eyes of the men who hunted down a dear friend who’d been wrongly accused of murder.
And, at times, I’d caught glimpses of it in my own heart.
The passage of time had done nothing to lessen its stench. And despite the relative peace, I knew full well that hearts poisoned by hateful thinking can only simmer for so long before boiling over.
In May of that year, 1938, that pot started bubbling.
I was on the front porch shucking corn when I saw three colored men turn up our walk, all linked up in a row like the Three Musketeers. I stood up, let the corn silk slip from my apron, and called over my shoulder. “Gemma! Come on out here.”
She must have been nearby because the screen door squealed open almost two seconds after my last words drifted in through the screen. “What is it?”
“Company. Only don’t look too good.” I walked to the top of the steps and shielded my eyes from the sun. “Malachi Jarvis! You got yourself into trouble again?”
The man in the middle, propped up like a scarecrow, lifted his chin wearily but managed to flash a smile that revealed bloodied teeth. “Depends on how you define trouble.”
Gemma gasped at the sight of him and flew down the steps, letting the door slam so loud the porch boards shook. “What in the name of all goodness have you been up to? You got some sort of death wish?”
A man I’d never seen before had his arm wound tightly beneath Malachi’s arms, blood smeared across his shirt front. Malachi’s younger brother, Noah, was on his other side, struggling against the weight, and Gemma came in between them to help.
“He ain’t got the good sense to keep his mouth shut, is all,” Noah said breathlessly.
I went inside to grab Momma’s first aid box, and by the time I got back out, Gemma had Malachi seated in the rocker.
Gemma gave him the once-over and shook her head so hard I thought it might fly off. “I swear, if you ain’t a one to push a body into an early grave. Your poor momma’s gonna lose her ever-lovin’ mind.”
Along with his younger brother and sister, Malachi lived down by the tracks with his widowed momma—as the man of the house, so to speak. He’d taken up being friends with Luke Talley some two years back when they’d both worked for the tobacco plant, and they’d remained close even though Luke had struck out on his own building furniture. Malachi was never one to keep his peace, a fact Gemma had no patience for, and she made it good and clear many a time. Today would be no exception.
“Goin’ around stirrin’ up trouble every which way,” she murmured as she pulled fixings out of the first aid box. “It’s one thing to pick fights with your own kind. Can’t say as though you wouldn’t benefit by a poundin’ or two every now and again. But this foolin’ around with white folks’ll get you into more’n you’re bargainin’ for.”
The man who’d helped Noah shoulder the burden of Malachi reached out to take the gauze from Gemma. “Why don’t you let me get that?”
Gemma didn’t much like being told what to do, and she glared at him. “I can clean up cuts and scrapes. I worked for a doctor past two years.”
Malachi nodded towards the man. “This here man is a doctor.”
I was putting iodine on a piece of cotton, and I near about dropped it on the floor when I heard that. Never in all my born days had I seen a colored man claiming to be a doctor. Neither had Gemma by the looks of her.
“A doctor?” she murmured. “You sure?”
He laughed and extended his hand to her. “Last I checked. Tal Pritchett. Just got into town yesterday. Gonna set up shop down by the tracks.”
Gemma handed the gauze over to him, still dumbfounded.
“What d’you think about that?” Malachi grinned and then grimaced the minute his split lip made its presence known. “A colored doc in Calloway. Shoo-whee. There’s gonna be talkin’ about this!”
The doctor went to work cleaning up Malachi’s wounds. “I ain’t here to start no revolution. I’m just aimin’ to help the colored folks get the help they deserve.”
“Well, you’re goin’ to start a revolution whether you want to or not.” Malachi shut his eyes and gritted his teeth the minute the iodine set to burning. “Folks in these parts don’t much like colored folk settin’ themselves up as smart or nothin’.”
Gemma watched Tal Pritchett like she was analyzing his every move, finding out for herself if he was a doctor or not. I stood by and let her assist him as she’d been accustomed to doing for Doc Mabley until he passed on two months ago. After he’d bandaged up Malachi’s right hand, she seemed satisfied that he was who he said.
Noah slumped down into the other rocker and watched. “It’s one thing to get yourself an education and stand for your right to make somethin’ of yourself. It’s another to go stirrin’ up trouble for the sake of stirrin’ up trouble.”
“I ain’t doin’ it for the sake of stirrin’ up trouble. I done told you that!” Malachi flexed his left hand to test how well his swollen fingers moved. Ain’t no colored man ever goin’ to be free in this here county . . . in this here state . . . in this here world unless somebody starts fightin’ for freedom.”
“Slaves was freed decades ago,” Noah said sharply. “We ain’t in shackles no more.”
“But we ain’t free to live our lives as we choose, neither. You think colored people are ever gonna be more’n house help and field help so long as we let ourselves be treated like less than white people? No sir. We’re less than human to them white folks. They don’t think nothin’ about killin’ so long as who they’re killin’ is colored.”
“Don’t you go bunchin’ all white people together, Malachi Jarvis,” I argued. “Ain’t all white folk got bad feelin’s about coloreds.”
Malachi waved me off in exasperation. “You know I ain’t talkin’ about you, Jessilyn.”
Noah had his hands tightly knotted in his lap and was staring at them like they held all the answers to the world’s problems. “All’s you’re doin’ is gettin’ yourself kicked around.” He looked up at me pleadingly. “This here’s the second time in a week he’s come home banged up.”
I put a hand on Noah’s shoulder and set my eyes on Malachi. “Who did it?”
He put his bandaged right hand into the air, palm up. “Who knows? Some white boys. You get surrounded by enough of ‘em, they all just blend in together like a vanilla milkshake.”
“How’s it you didn’t see them? They jump you or somethin’?”
“Don’t ask me, Jessie. I was just mindin’ my own business in town and then on my way home, they start hasslin’ me.”
“What he was doin’,” Noah corrected, “was tryin’ to get into the whites-only bar.”
Gemma sniffed in disgust. “Shouldn’t have been in no bar in the first place. There’s your first mistake.”
“Whites-only, too.” Noah kicked his foot against the porch rail and then looked up at me quickly. “Sorry.”
I smiled at him and turned my attention back to Malachi. “It’s a good thing Luke ain’t here to see this. He don’t like you drinkin’ and you know it.”
His eyeballs rolled between swollen lids. “I don’t know why he gets his trousers in a knot over it anyhow. Ain’t like there’s prohibition no more. And he’s been known to take a swig or two himself.”
“Luke says you’re a nasty drunk.”
“He is.” Noah knotted his hands back in his lap. “And he’s been at the bottle more often than not of late.”
“Quit tellin’ tales!” his brother barked.
“I ain’t tellin’ tales; I’m tellin’ truth. They can ask anybody at home how late you come in, and how you come in all topsy turvy. He comes home in the middle of the mornin’ and sleeps in till all hours the next day.”
“What about your job at the plant?” Gemma asked.
Malachi closed his eyes and waved her off, but his brother provided the answer for him. “Lost it!” He loosened his grip on his hands and snapped his fingers. “Like that. There’s goes his income.”
“I said I’ll get another job.”
“Oh, like there’s jobs aplenty around these parts for colored folk. And anyways, if you find one, how you gonna’ keep that one?”
Gemma had her hands on her hips, and I knew what that meant. I leaned back against the house and waited for the lecture to commence.
“You talk a fine talk about colored folks needin’ to stand up for equality, but you ain’t doin’ it in any way that’s right and good. You’re goin’ about town gettin’ people’s goat, and tryin’ to get in where you ain’t wanted, and gettin’ yourself all liquored up and useless. Now your family ain’t got the money they depend on you for, and why? Because you walk around livin’ like you ain’t got to do nothin’ for nobody but yourself.”
“I’m standin’ up for the rights of colored folks everywhere.” Malachi was angry now, pink patches spreading on his busted-up cheeks. “You see anyone else in this town willin’ to go toe to toe with the white boys in this county?”
“Don’t put a noble face on bein’ an upstart.”
Malachi pushed Tal’s hand away and sat up tall. “You call standin’ up to white folks bein’ an upstart?”
Doc Pritchett tried to dress the wound on Malachi’s temple, but Malachi pushed his hand away again. That was when the doctor had enough, and he smacked his hands on his thighs and stood up tall and determined in front of Malachi. “I ain’t Abraham Lincoln. I’m just Doc Pritchett tryin’ to fix up an ornery patient, and I ain’t got all day to do it. So I’m goin’ to settle this argument once and for all.” He pointed at Gemma. “She’s right. There ain’t no fightin’ nonsense with more nonsense, and all’s you’re doin’ by gettin’ in the faces of white folks with your smart attitude is bein’ as bad as they’re bein’.” Then he pointed at Malachi. “And he’s right, too. There ain’t never a change brought about that should be brought about without people standin’ up for such change. And sometimes that means bein’ willin’ to fight for what’s right.”
Gemma swallowed hard and didn’t even try to argue. My eyes must have bugged out of my head at the sight of her being tamed so easily.
“Now, I’m all for civil uprisin’,” Tal continued. “I don’t see nothin’ wrong with colored folk sayin’ they won’t be walked on no more. I don’t see nothin’ wrong with wantin’ to use the same bathroom as white folks or sit in the same chairs as white folks. Way I see it, none of that’s goin’ to change unless someone says it has to.” He squatted down in front of Malachi again and stared him down nose to nose. “But all this hot-shottin’ and show-boatin’ ain’t goin’ to do nothin’ but get your rear end kicked. Or worse. You aim to stand tall for somethin’? Fine. Stand tall for it. But don’t you go around thinkin’ these battle scars say somethin’ for you. You ain’t got them by bein’ noble; you got them by bein’ stupid. All’s these scars say is you’re an idiot.”
It was one of the best speeches I’d heard from anyone outside my daddy, and if I’d ever thought for two seconds put together to see a colored man run for governor, I figured Tal Pritchett would be the man for the job. As it was, I knew he was the best man for the job he had now. Sure enough, being a colored doc in Calloway would be a challenge. But I figured he was up for it.
Regardless, he shut Malachi up, and for the next five minutes we all watched him finish his job with skill and finesse. When he’d fixed the last of Malachi’s face, he stood up and clapped his hands. “Suppose that should do it. Don’t see need for any stitchin’ up today. Let’s hope there’s no cause for it in future.” Then he looked at me. “You got someplace out here where I can wash up?”
I held my hand out toward the front door. “Bathroom’s upstairs.”
He hesitated. “I’d just as soon wash up out here.”
I caught the reason for his hesitation but didn’t know what to say. As usual, Gemma did.
“I done lived in this here house for six years now, and I’m just as brown as you. You can feel free to go on up to the bathroom, you hear?”
He looked from Gemma to me, then back to Gemma before nodding. “Yes’m.” And then he disappeared inside.
“Ma’am,” Gemma muttered under her breath. “Ain’t old enough to be called ma’am, least of all by a man no more’n a few years older’n me.”
“You know what happens once you start gettin’ them crows feet . . .”
Gemma whirled about and gave Malachi the evil eye. “Don’t go thinkin’ I won’t hurt you just because you’re all bandaged up.”
Noah got up and paced the porch until Tal came back outside. “Doc, you have any problem gettin’ your schoolin’?”
Tal shrugged and leaned against the porch rail. “No more’n most, I guess. There’s a lot to learn. Why? You thinkin’ about goin’ to college?”
You could have heard a pin drop on that front porch. Never, and I mean never, in all the days Calloway had been on the map, had there ever been a single person, white or black, to step foot at a college. The very idea of that mark being made by a colored boy was a surefire way to start war.
And Noah knew it.
He looked at his feet and kicked the heel of one shoe against the toe of another. “Ain’t possible. I was just wonderin’ aloud, is all.”
“What do you mean it ain’t possible? All’s you’ve got to do is work hard. You can get scholarships and things.”
But Noah took a look at his brother, whose face was hard and tight-lipped, and nodded off toward the road. “Nah, there ain’t no use talkin’ over it. We’d best get home anyhow.”
Tal didn’t push the subject. He just picked his hat up off the porch swing and plopped it on his head. “Miss Jessie. Miss Gemma. It was a fine pleasure to meet you, and a kindness for you to give us a hand.”
“You should stop by sometime and meet my parents,” I said. “They’re off visitin’, but I’m sure they’d be right happy to know you.”
“I’m sure I’d be right happy to know them, too.” He turned his attention to Gemma. “You said you worked for a doctor?”
“I worked for Doc Mabley. He was a white doctor. Died some two months ago.”
“He let you assist?”
“Only with the colored patients. Doc Mabley was kind enough to help some of them out when they needed it. Otherwise I kept his records, kept up his stock.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Miss Gemma, I could sure use some help if you’d be obliged. An assistant would be a good set of extra hands, and I could use someone known around here to make my introductions.”
Gemma eyed him up before slowly nodding her head. “Reckon I could.”
“Wouldn’t be much pay, now, you know. Ain’t likely to get much in the way of fees from the patients I’ll be treatin’.”
“Don’t matter so long as I have good work to put my hands to.”
“That it would be. My office is right across the street from the Jarvis house.”
Malachi snorted. “Shack’s more like it.”
“Room enough for me,” Tal said. Then to Gemma, “You think you could stop in sometime this week to talk it over?”
“I can come day after tomorrow if that suits.”
“Nine o’clock too early?”
“No, sir! I’ve kept farm hours all my life.”
He grinned at her. “Nine o’clock then?”
“Nine o’clock.”
Malachi watched the two of them with his swollen eyes, a look of disgust growing more evident on his face. He’d made no secret over the past year about his admiration for Gemma, and the unmistakable attraction that was growing between her and Tal was clearly turning his stomach.
“Mind if we go home?” he muttered. “Before I fall down dead or somethin’?”
Gemma tore her eyes away from Tal to roll them at Malachi. “Would serve you right if you did.”
“And on that cheery note . . .” Malachi groaned on his way down the steps. “I’ll bid you ladies a fine evenin’.”
I gave Noah a playful whack to the head, but he ducked so it only clipped the top. “Luke will be back home tomorrow evenin’. He’ll be itchin’ to see you, I’m sure.”
“I’m itchin’ to see him.” He took the steps in one leap, tossing dust up when he landed. “You tell him to come on by and see us real soon.”
“And tell him to bring his cards,” Malachi added. “He owes me a poker rematch.”
I squinted at him suspiciously. “Only if you play for beans.”
“I hate beans.”
Malachi leaned on Tal for support and Noah scurried to catch up and help. I watched them go, but I wasn’t thinking much about them. I was thinking about Luke. It had been two months since he’d left to collect customers for his furniture-making business, and every day had seemed like an eternity.
The very thought of him got my stomach butterflies to fluttering, but one look at Gemma told me it was another man who had stolen her attention. “That
Doc Pritchett’s a fine man.” I looked at her sideways with a smirk. “Looks about twenty-five or so.”
“So?”
“Good marryin’ age.”
She crossed her arms defiantly. “Jessilyn Lassiter, what’s that got to do with anythin’?”
“Only what I said. I’m only statin’ fact.”
“Mm-hm. I hear ya. You’d be better off keepin’ your facts to yourself.”
She grabbed the first aid box and headed inside, but the sound of that door slamming told me I’d got to her.
It told me Tal Pritchett had got to her, too.

Lady In Waiting {REview}

2010-10-15T07:34:00.001-07:00

I love history. I would love to take a year off and tour/travel the eastern seaboard of the United States just to see all the historical sights. That would thrill my soul. I would also love to travel to Rome and see all the history there. I would love to go to England and see the Tower of London. I know that is where people who opposed the crown had their head rather rudely separated from their body, but the history is so very rich.
And there is a very sick part of me that wonders if ancient blood is still on the floor. Not that they did it inside...
Lady in Waiting is by Susan Meissner and is a historical fiction novel about Lady Jane Grey. You may remember after King Edward VI died (and I've always wondered if someone killed him), Princess Mary was the rightful heir but greedy men had their own designs on the throne and Lady Jane was coronated in her place. Because she was a she and Catholic and her mother had been put to death by King Henry VIII, she was deemed to be illegitmate and there for unworthy of the crown.
The book is written with an idea that Lady Jane was secretly betrothed to King Edward and given a secret betrothal ring. The ring survives and is uncovered in the binding of an antique Catholic prayer book by a lady named Jane living in New York. While there is no historical evidence this ever happened, it does make a good story.
The book flips between the sixteenth century and modern times. Personally I would have much preferred just reading about Lady Jane Grey in the sixteenth century. But honestly that is the only thing I would change about the book. This is definitely a book I want to read over and over...and I could always just skip over the modern time.
In typing that I realized I had failed to say anything at all about the modern-day Jane. The book starts with her husband leaving her. That hit a little close to home because I've walked that road with some friends. It's not fun, or pretty and really is a minefield. That part of the book ends not with them reconciling but definitely working toward that end. I liked that about the book, because sometimes life isn't pretty. Not everything comes together in the end. But God is still God, and He still offers grace and HOPE.
Below you can 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:

Susan Meissner

and the book:

Lady In Waiting

WaterBrook Press; Original edition (September 7, 2010)

***Special thanks to Cindy Brovsky of WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House, Inc., for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Susan Meissner has spent her lifetime as a writer, starting with her first poem at the age of four. She is the award-winning author of The Shape of Mercy, White Picket Fences, and many other novels. When she’s not writing, she directs the small groups and connection ministries at her San Diego church. She and her pastor husband are the parents of four young adults.
Visit the author's website.
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 352 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press; Original edition (September 7, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307458830
ISBN-13: 978-0307458834
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Jane
Upper West Side, Manhattan
ONE
The mantle clock was exquisite even though its hands rested in silence at twenty minutes past two.
Carved—near as I could tell—from a single piece of mahogany, its glimmering patina looked warm to the touch. Rosebuds etched into the swirls of wood grain flanked the sides like two bronzed bridal bouquets. The clock’s top was rounded and smooth like the draped head of a Madonna. I ran my palm across the polished surface and it was like touching warm water.
Legend was this clock originally belonged to the young wife of a Southampton doctor and that it stopped keeping time in 1912, the very moment the Titanic sank and its owner became a widow. The grieving woman’s only consolation was the clock’s apparent prescience of her husband’s horrible fate and its kinship with the pain that left her inert in sorrow. She never remarried and she never had the clock fixed.
I bought it sight unseen for my great aunt’s antique store, like so many of the items I’d found for the display cases. In the year and half I’d been in charge of the inventory, the best pieces had come from the obscure estate sales that my British friend Emma Downing came upon while tooling around the southeast of England looking for oddities for her costume shop. She found the clock at an estate sale in Felixstowe and the auctioneer, so she told me, had been unimpressed with the clock’s sad history. Emma said he’d read the accompanying note about the clock as if reading the rules for rugby.
My mother watched now as I positioned the clock on the lacquered black mantle that rose above a marble fireplace. She held a lead crystal vase of silk daffodils in her hands.
“It should be ticking.” She frowned. “People will wonder why it’s not ticking.” She set the vase down on the hearth and stepped back. Her heels made a clicking sound on the parquet floor beneath our feet. “You know, you probably would’ve sold it by now if it was working. Did Wilson even look at it? You told me he could fix anything.”
I flicked a wisp of fuzz off the clock’s face. I hadn’t asked the shop’s resident and unofficial repairman to fix it. “It wouldn’t be the same clock if it was fixed.”
“It would be a clock that did what it was supposed to do.” My mother leaned in and straightened one of the daffodil blooms.
“This isn’t just any clock, Mom.” I took a step back too.
My mother folded her arms across the front of her Ann Taylor suit. Pale blue, the color of baby blankets and robins’ eggs. Her signature color. “Look, I get all that about the Titanic and the young widow, but you can’t prove any of it, Jane,” she said. “You could never sell it on that story.”
A flicker of sadness wobbled inside me at the thought of parting with the clock. This happens when you work in retail. Sometimes you have a hard time selling what you bought to sell.
“I’m thinking maybe I’ll keep it.”
“You don’t make a profit by hanging onto the inventory.” My mother whispered this, but I heard her. She intended for me to hear her. This was her way of saying what she wanted to about her aunt’s shop—which she’d inherit when Great Aunt Thea passed—without coming across as interfering.
My mother thinks she tries very hard not to interfere. But it is one of her talents. Interfering when she thinks she’s not. It drives my younger sister Leslie nuts.
“Do you want me to take it back to the store?” I asked.
“No! It’s perfect for this place. I just wish it were ticking.” She nearly pouted.
I reached for the box at my feet that I brought the clock in along with a set of Shakespeare’s works, a pair of pewter candlesticks, and a Wedgwood vase. “You could always get a CD of sound effects and run a loop of a ticking clock,” I joked.
She turned to me, childlike determination in her eyes. “I wonder how hard it would be to find a CD like that!”
“I was kidding, Mom! Look what you have to work with.” I pointed to the simulated stereo system she’d placed into a polished entertainment center behind us. My mother never used real electronics in the houses she staged, although with the clientele she usually worked with—affluent real estate brokers and equally well-off buyers and sellers—she certainly could.
“So I’ll bring in a portable player and hide it in the hearth pillows.” She shrugged and then turned to the adjoining dining room. A gleaming black dining table had been set with white bone china, pale yellow linen napkins, and mounds of fake chicken salad, mauvey rubber grapes, and plastic croissants and petit fours. An arrangement of pussy willows graced the center of the table. “Do you think the pussy willows are too rustic?” she asked.
She wanted me to say yes so I did.
“I think so, too,” she said. “I think we should swap these out for that vase of Gerbera daisies you have on that escritoire in the shop’s front window. I don’t know what I was thinking when I brought these.” She reached for the unlucky pussy willows. “We can put these on the entry table with our business cards.”
She turned to me. “You did bring yours this time, didn’t you? It’s silly for you to go to all this work and then not get any customers out of it.” My mother made her way to the entryway with the pussy willows in her hands and intention in her step. I followed her.
This was only the second house I’d helped her stage, and I didn’t bring business cards the first time because she hadn’t invited me to until we were about to leave. She’d promptly told me then to never go anywhere without business cards. Not even to the ladies room. She’d said it and then waited, like she expected me to take out my BlackBerry and make a note of it.
“I have them right here.” I reached into the front pocket of my capris and pulled out a handful of glossy business cards emblazoned with Amsterdam Avenue Antiques and its logo—three As entwined like a Celtic eternity knot. I handed them to her and she placed them in a silver dish next to her own. Sophia Keller Interior Design and Home Staging. The pussy willows actually looked wonderful against the tall jute-colored wall.
“There. That looks better!” she exclaimed as if reading my thoughts. She turned to survey the main floor of the townhouse. The owners had relocated to the Hamptons and were selling off their Manhattan properties to fund a cushy retirement. Half the décor—the books, the vases, the prints—were on loan from Aunt Thea’s shop. My mother, who’d been staging real estate for two years, brought me in a few months earlier when she discovered a stately home filled with charming and authentic antiques sold faster than the same home filled with reproductions.
“You and Brad should get out of that teensy apartment on the West Side and buy this place. The owners are practically giving it away.”
Her tone suggested she didn’t expect me to respond. I easily let the comment evaporate into the sunbeams caressing us. It was a comment for which I had had no response.
My mother’s gaze swept across the two large rooms she’d furnished and she frowned when her eyes reached the mantle and the silent clock.
“Well, I’ll just have to come back later today,” she spoke into the silence. “It’s being shown first thing in the morning.” She swung back around. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”
We stepped out into the April sunshine and to her Lexus parked across the street along a line of townhouses just like the one we’d left. As we began to drive away, the stillness in the car thickened, and I fished my cell phone out of my purse to see if I’d missed any calls while we were finishing the house. On the drive over I had a purposeful conversation with Emma about a box of old books she found at a jumble sale in Oxfordshire. That lengthy conversation filled the entire commute from the store on the seven-hundred block of Amsterdam to the townhouse on East Ninth, and I found myself wishing I could somehow repeat that providential circumstance. My mother would ask about Brad if the silence continued. There was no missed call, and I started to probe my brain for something to talk about. I suddenly remembered I hadn’t told my mother I’d found a new assistant. I opened my mouth to tell her about Stacy but I was too late.
“So what do you hear from Brad?” she asked cheerfully.
“He’s doing fine.” The answer flew out of my mouth as if I’d rehearsed it. She looked away from the traffic ahead, blinked at me, and then turned her attention back to the road. A taxi pulled in front of her, and she laid on the horn, pronouncing a curse on all taxi drivers.
“Idiot.” She turned to me. “How much longer do you think he will stay in New Hampshire?” Her brow was creased. “You aren’t going to try to keep two households going forever, are you?”
I exhaled heavily. “It’s a really good job, Mom. And he likes the change of pace and the new responsibilities. It’s only been two months.”
“Yes, but the inconvenience has to be wearing on you both. It must be quite a hassle maintaining two residences, not to mention the expense, and then all that time away from each other.” She paused but only for a moment. “I just don’t see why he couldn’t have found something similar right here in New York. I mean, don’t all big hospitals have the same jobs in radiology? That’s what your father told me. And he should know.”
“Just because there are similar jobs doesn’t mean there are similar vacancies, Mom.”
She tapped the steering wheel. “Yes, but your father said . . .”
“I know Dad thinks he might’ve been able to help Brad find something on Long Island but Brad wanted this job. And no offense, Mom, but the head of environmental services doesn’t hire radiologists.”
She bristled. I shouldn’t have said it. She would repeat that comment to my dad, not to hurt him but to vent her frustration at not having been able to convince me she was right and I was wrong. But it would hurt him anyway.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I added. “Don’t tell him I said that, okay? I just really don’t want to rehash this again.”
But she wasn’t done. “Your father has been at that hospital for twenty-seven years. He knows a lot of people.” She emphasized the last four words with a pointed stare in my direction.
“I know he does. That’s really not what I meant. It’s just Brad has always wanted this kind of job. He’s working with cancer patients. This really matters to him.”
“But the job’s in New Hampshire!”
“Well, Connor is in New Hampshire!” It sounded irrelevant even to me to mention the current location of Brad’s and my college-age son. Connor had nothing to do with any of this. And he was an hour away from where Brad was anyway.
“And you are here,” my mother said evenly. “If Brad wanted out of the city, there are plenty of quieter hospitals right around here. And plenty of sick people for that matter.”
There was an undercurrent in her tone, subtle and yet obvious, that assured me we really weren’t talking about sick people and hospitals and the miles between Manhattan and Manchester. It was as if she’d guessed what I’d tried to keep from my parents the last eight weeks.
My husband didn’t want out of the city.
He just wanted out.

Eat This and Live! For Kids (Review)

2010-10-13T21:21:00.001-07:00

I was just thinking how incredibly odd it is that I write book reviews for fun. I still remember my first book review. I was in the third grade and had to give a book report for school. At the last minute I grabbed a book off my bookshelf, scanned the back and wrote a very nice review.
For a book my teacher had read. And LOVED. And I was busted.
I have since read Rabbit Hill and while it is not a treasured book, I did enjoy it.
Today I have a review for a book I actually read more than just the back cover. I read the Table of Contents also.
And the rest of the book!
The book I'm talking about, has been mentioned a time or fifty. (You can find it mentioned here, here, here, and here.) I've talked about it on Twitter too. I talked about it in my neighborhood, at the grocery store, to my family so much they wish I'd never heard of the book.
The book is Eat This and Live! For kids by Dr. Don. Colbert, MD and Dr. Joseph A. Cannizzaro, MD. and the information inside this books pages will astound you. One example is the difference between being just "overweight" and being "obese". I always thought those two were light years apart. And they aren't. One BMI number separates them.
Dr. Colbert gives you the formula for figuring out your child's BMI (Body Mass Index) and even includes in the back of the BMI chart for boys and girls.
What I thought of the book
WOW!!! This book is CHOCK-FULL of useful information. There was nothing in the book I read that I did not automatically think I couldn't do. I love the practicality of the information. We all want our children to be healthier, we all know we have to set the example, which means we all know WE need to be eating healthier. This book gives practical steps we can take to be eating healthier and being healthier.
Reading this book makes me want to go get his other books and devour them. I give this one 5 turning pages. You can read more below.
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:

Don Colbert

and the book:
Eat This and Live! For Kids
Siloam; 1 edition (September 7, 2010)
***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Book Group | Strang Communications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Don Colbert, MD, is board-certified in family practice and anti-aging medicine and has received extensive training in nutritional and preventative medicine. He is the author of numerous books, including two New York Times best sellers, Dr. Colbert’s “I Can Do This” Diet and The Seven Pillars of Health.
Joseph A. Cannizzaro, MD, has practiced pediatric medicine for thirty years with specialties in developmental pediatrics, nutrition, and preventive medicine. He is the founder and managing pediatrician for the Pediatricians Care Unit in Longwood, Florida.
Visit the author's website.
Here's a video about the adult version, Eat This and Live!:
Product Details:
List Price: $17.99
Paperback: 192 pages
Publisher: Siloam; 1 edition (September 7, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616381388
ISBN-13: 978-1616381387
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

EATING HABITS OF
THE NEXT GENERATION
Eating Habits and Our Future
How Has an entire generation of hefty eaters changed the face of the world? By starting young. And once again, this unflattering trend originated in America. In the United States, 17.1 percent of our children and adolescents―that's 2.5 million youth―are now reported to be either overweight or obese.
As a result of childhood obesity, we are seeing a dramatic rise in type 2 diabetes throughout the country. And because of the connection obesity has with hypertension, hypercholesterolemia (high cholesterol), and heart disease, experts are predicting a dramatic rise in heart disease as our children become adults. The Centers for Disease Prevention and Control (CDC) reports that overweight teens stand a 70 percent chance of becoming overweight adults, and that is increased to 80 percent
if at least one parent is overweight or obese. Because of that, heart disease and type 2 diabetes are expected to begin at a much earlier age in those who fail to beat the odds.2 Overall, this is the first generation of children that is not expected to live as long as their parents, and they will be more likely to suffer from disease and illness.
If you do not take charge of your food choices for yourself, at least do it for your children. Children follow by example, by mirroring the behavior of their parents. Don't tell them to make healthy eating choices without doing it yourself. I'm sure most of you love your children and are good parents. But ask yourself: Do you love your children enough to make the necessary lifestyle changes? Do you love them enough to educate them on what foods to eat and what foods to avoid? Do you love them enough to keep junk food out of your house and instead make healthy food more available? Do you love them enough to exercise regularly and lead by example?
If you answered yes to those questions, it is important that you not only take action right now but also that you make changes for them that last a lifetime.
But let me be honest; this is not an easy fight when it involves your children's lives. As the little boxes of information on this page illustrate, the culture in which your children are growing up is saturated with junk food that is void of nutrition but high in toxic fats, sugars, high

Money Saving Tips Part 1

2010-10-05T10:56:00.000-07:00

I promised some money saving tips. One of my favorite ways is to use non-chemical cleaners. Especially when they clean better than their chemical counterparts and generally everyone already has them on hand.

Vinegar has a million and ten uses, most of them do no involve making pickles. I mix a spray bottle of vinegar and water. I use a ratio of 2:2, or equal parts. I just like using ratios because I learned how in math class.

While I taught my fifth grader.

Vinegar has been used for centuries! I wouldn't be surprised if Eve used it in her home. It is incredibly inexpensive, even compared to other chemical cleaners. For example, 21 ounces of Comet with bleach will cost you $.97 at Target. A gallon of distilled white vinegar will cost you a few pennies more.

On of my favorite places to use vinegar is in the laundry room. I add it to the rinse cycle in my washing machine and all the soap is rinsed out. It is much cheaper than liquid fabric softener and you get the same result.

Okay, baking soda. You want to talk about a great cleaner! The little dynamo in the orange box is cleaning machine. And you thought it was only for cooking!

I use in the place of harsh chemical cleaners to scour my sink, polish my faucet. I use it when I vacuum as an instant carpet deodorizer. Sprinkle some on, vacuum and sniff the clean air. It is, of course, much less expensive than the scent carpet cleaners you can buy.

Have you noticed your tennis shoes are smelling less than sweet? Sprinkle baking soda in your shoes, leave over night, shake out the excess and your shoes once again are not announcing your presence.

The Food Cure

2010-10-05T06:59:00.000-07:00

My blogging friend, DeeDee (of Fiddledeedee fame!) asked on her blog about fruit and vegetables. Namely what fruits and vegetables my children will eat without coercion. Before I share, I have to share a story.

When I was first pregnant with my oldest, who is now 10 (and as she is quick to remind me, "almost 10.5!"), I craved salads from Subway. And since I drove past Subway twice a day on my way to and from work, I ate a lot of salad the first three months of my pregnancy. For the remaining six months, I existed on Chips Ahoy and Pepsi. And it wasn't that Diet Pepsi junk either. Nope, full sugar, full caffeine.

When I was pregnant with my youngest, soon to be 8, I didn't have the salad cravings. In fact I can't really remember having any cravings with her at all. There were things I ate often, but I'm not sure it was a craving.

We have a video of Elizabeth, my youngest, opening her stocking on Christmas morning and exclaiming, "Lookit! I got chock-it!" You can hear my voice telling her "only one piece", you can hear Dear Man's voice saying, "only one piece" and then you can see her, deer in the headlights look, cheeks stuffed with the forbidden chock-it, and another piece of chock-it in each hand. She was going to have "only one"...at a time.

A few years later, when offered a piece of candy for a snack, my oldest would say, "But, Momma, can't I have some fruit?" And when offered a piece of fruit, my youngest would say, "How 'bout some chock-it?"

Ariana has never met a fruit she didn't like. She is not as hip on vegetables but put fresh vegetables in a salad and she is all over it!

It took Elizabeth a few years to like salad. Her favorite comment when salad was on the menu, "But Momma, you knoooowwwww it's not my favorite." I'm not sure what changed for her, but now she is giddy with excitement when it is. She has also come a long way toward liking fruit.

We are a fruit-loving family. And is it any wonder really?

I went down to the garden of nuts to see the fruits

Song of Songs 6:12 kjv

I'm having a problem.

2010-10-04T07:08:00.000-07:00

I really am. I find myself once again eyeball-to-eyeball with Monday which means a "Go MAD Monday post". I am once again at a loss.

I could blog about spending Friday afternoon sewing with a sweet friend. But did I make a difference?

I could blog about taking the girls to the park this week for a picnic lunch and some run around like a banshee time. But did that make a difference?

I could blog about spending time with Elizabeth and her math this week. But did that make a difference?

I have a hard time thinking of something I can do to make a difference in someone'e life. It seems somehow so fake to do something just so I can have blog fodder on Monday mornings. It seems so self-serving and isn't the point of Making a Difference to serve others?

Checking stats

2010-10-02T08:13:00.000-07:00

I've been checking my blog stats and finding a number of people from around the world are visiting.

So this is your time to stop and introduce yourself! I'd love to hear how you found my blog and what you think!

Homemaker's Challenge!

2010-10-01T19:12:00.001-07:00

Are you up for it? I am taking the Homemaker’s Challenge (http://tinyurl.com/2a9ma3m). It is fun for the homemaking, cooking, baking, wife, simple living mom, organizing, decorating, money saving, fashionista, and blogging “expert” in all of us!

Picture Post!!!!!!

2010-10-01T08:26:00.000-07:00

This little squirrel was so friendly.

The squirrel eating a piece of apple we tossed to him.

And eating 1/4 of an apple we gave to him.

Climbing the fence with the 1/4 apple.

He left the apple on the fence. We went back later in the evening and it was still there.

The best part of the day!

What Dave Ramsey Did for Me.

2010-09-30T07:33:00.000-07:00

I grew up poor. Uhm, no, that's not right. I grew up broke. My father was a mechanic who showed up drunk to work a few too many times so was often out of a job. Because he was honorably discharged from the Marine Corp, we received a check from the government every month. I'm not sure what to call it. At times that was all we had for the month. All we had to make the house payment, utilities, pickup payment, buy gas, food, clothes. Everything a family of 5 needed had to come from that check.

At times we had carrot soup, which was just water, salt, pepper and carrots. We had that because that was all there was. I remember always knowing when the check came because we feasted for lunch like we were kings. Bread, lunch meat, and chips. Sometimes we even had pop. (soda, coke)

I grew up learning by osmosis and example that if there was something you saw that you needed/wanted and you had the money in your pocket you had to buy it right then. If you didn't, you either wouldn't have enough money later, or it would be gone. Thinking about a purchase for 24-hours was unheard of.

Saving money was another thing that wasn't heard of or talked about much. I grew up thinking saving was what rich people did. Savings accounts were for those who were rich enough to have extra money to save. We weren't that rich.

I heard once that "A budget is a systematic way of running out of money." I didn't need a systematic way, I could run out of money just fine in my own loosey-goosey way. I was extremely opposed to a budget. I saw no use for a savings account, because if you weren't saving for anything in particular, what was the point?

Several times in my 20s I would think I should do a better a job with my money. One time I bought "A Woman's Guide to Financial Peace of Mind" by Ron Blue. The only thing I learned from the book was I couldn't afford the book, but Focus on the Family wouldn't take it back.

I carried all this excess stinky baggage in to marriage. You can imagine living in my house...sometimes it wasn't quite all love and roses.

This past Spring my church offered Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University as a Sunday School class. I was the first one to sign up. I didn't necessarily care if Russ was on board (although I knew he probably would be) with the whole thing or not. I only wanted help with the household money I worked with every month. I thought if Dave Ramsey could help with that, he would be worth his weight in gold. (in a good gold market when it is really paying to have stock in gold.)

I started setting aside a certain amount every month immediately after starting the class. This went into a checking account that had very limited access. I could only write 3 checks a month. I requested no debit card with it. For what I planned to use this account for, I contemplated opening a savings account, until I saw this account offered no minimum balance, and it earned interest at a greater rate than a savings account, I chose to go for the checking account.

At times the money I put in the account hurt. I could think of 150 different things I could do with that money. But still I put it in every month. I am close to having my emergency fund fully stocked, and already it has come in handy.

For years I thought there was no way I could ever afford to shop at Sam's or Costco. I knew I could get more buying in bulk and over time it would be cheaper, but initially I knew I'd spend more. And I didn't have more to spend. Every pay period I was spending all I had on food and other things we needed, like toothpaste, toilet paper, kleenex' soap, etc.

Six weeks ago or so, we traveled to visit family and check out Sam's. I took my meager money with me, hoping to get enough food to last at least for 2 weeks and hopefully a month. It worked. I even went home with money in my pocket.

Two weeks ago, I went to a nearby town to again shop at Sam's. I spent a little more than I had the first time, but I was able to get more. And again I went home with money in my pocket.

I was noticing earlier this week that our bath towels are getting to be rather sad looking. Elizabeth's towel has a hole in it, all the towels have the frayed edges. But instead of thinking we could all ask for towels for Christmas, I realized I can go buy the towels we need.

Because of Dave Ramsey, I am able to say "We need towels." and go buy new towels. I didn't have to think of what I could do without this time to get the towels.

Believe me when I say six months ago, that wouldn't have happened. This lifestyle is so freeing. Yes, some people think I'm crazy for denying myself certain perks of life, but honestly the more I save the less likely I am to want to part with any money. Especially money on things that are just a perk. I have a hard enough time spending money on some needs of my own (my families needs I have no problem spending money), to spend money on a "want" is enough to send me into a near panic. (only slightly kidding)

Getting rich was not my intent by taking the class. I just wanted help to have enough, even if our income never increased, I just wanted to have enough to get what was needed.

Mission accomplished!

COFFEE!!!

2010-09-29T13:29:00.000-07:00

This morning I read Psalm 66. In verse three we are told to "Say to God, 'How awesome are Your works!'" I prayed for my eyes to be open so I could see Him at work and see His works. I know I really only had to look outside and I could see His works, but go with me here. I want so much to be able to exclaim, "God, You are awesome for... ." In the midst of my prayer, God gently whispers to my soul, "I made the coffee bean." And I began to "Shout joyfully to God..."

God made coffee! God made coffee and He is awesome!! Coffee is good, even great, but God alone is awesome! If you look in Genesis 1, God exclaims "It is good!" after every thing He created. So coffee is good.

Could I get an amen!!!

Not only did God remind me that He made coffee, He had the radio play "Low Fat Latte" by Michael O'brien just as I was leaving for Bible study. The song lasted, and yes was blasted from the speakers, until I got to Dear Man's office to drop off the girls.

At Bible study this morning, I learned so much. Most of which I'm still processing...or maybe I'm just not ready to share yet. But I will share this. My family is in the Bible. Yup. We are there.

I went down to the garden of nuts to see the fruits...

Song of Songs 6:12 (kjv)

For Beth Moore.

2010-09-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

I just read Beth Moore's blog. She talked today about her "happy place"...the Tetons. I live only one state east of them and I haven't ever been. Maybe I should.

Beth closed by asking what was our happy place. I commented quite honestly that since I was in dire need of a nap, my happy/favorite place was bed. Before I hit the submit button, I pondered a while to see if I had another place I liked better. And the answer is a resounding NO! I am such a slug. My favorite place to be is bed, either sleeping or with a good book and a cup of good coffee.

However, since I can't stand to sit still for 10 minutes, I can't just lounge in bed all day. I would make myself crazy.

The next part of the comment was my realizing and since I can't have an unexpressed thought, I said, I told 50 million people that I had been too busy since crawling out of bed to have it made yet. It is after 3pm.

To prove it I snapped this.

And no, I'm not proud. I hadn't even opened the windows!

But never fear, I quickly rectified the situation.

What is that on the bed?

My Bible study lesson.

And okay it was staged, but I had to have some place to keep it.

What is your favorite place to be?

Mourning into Dancing

2010-09-28T06:33:00.000-07:00

This morning I read Psalm 116. I was in the throes of death Friday and Saturday so I could really relate, and after my day yesterday, I could REALLY relate!!

I love the LORD because He hears

My voice and my

supplications.

Because He has inclined

His ear to me,

Therefore I shall call upon

Him as long as I live.

The cords of death

encompassed me

And the terrors of Sheol

came upon me;

I found distress and

sorrow

Then I called upon the

name of the LORD:

"O LORD I beseech You,

save my life!"

Gracious is the LORD, and

righteous;

Yes, our God is compassionate.

The LORD preserves the

simple;

I was brought low, and

He save me.

Return to your rest,

O my soul,

For the LORD has dealt

bountifully with you.

For You have rescued my

soul from death,

My eyes from tears,

My feet from stumbling.

I shall walk before the LORD

In the land of the living.

I believed when I said,,

"I am greatly afflicted."

I said in my alarm,

"All men are liars."

What shall I render to

the Lord

For all His benefits

toward me?

I shall lift up the cup of

salvation

And call upon the name

of the LORD.

I shall pay my vows to

the LORD,

Oh may it be in the

presence of all His

people.

Precious in the sight of

the LORD

Is the death of His godly

ones.

O LORD, surely I am

Your servant,

I am Your servant, the

son of Your handmaid,

You have loosed my

bonds

To You I shall offer a

sacrifice of

thanksgiving.

And call upon the name

of the LORD.

I shall pay my vows to

the LORD,

Oh may it be in the

presence of all his

people,

In the courts of the

LORD'S house,

In the midst of you,

O Jerusalem,

Praise the LORD

(from the nasb)

My day...thus far.

2010-09-27T10:32:00.001-07:00

A little background.

I am going through Anointed, Transformed and Redeemed. A Bible study that uses Priscilla Shirer (If only she would get off my toes for a pair of minutes!), Beth Moore and Kay Arthur. Each speaker is given two weeks of homework and two weeks of video lessons. I have worked my way through Priscilla's and I am working on week one of homework with Beth. Kay is yet to hit me. I think maybe I should duck.

Beth has for her key passage in her first video session and first week of homework, 2 Samuel 7. In this passage, King David wants to build God a house and God says instead that He will build David's house and establish his throne forever. Now we know this is accomplished through Jesus.

In verse 18 David sits back on his heels and says, "Who am I? And What is my family that YOU have brought us this far??" (my paraphrase based on the New International Version) We are supposed to ponder the "this far" God has led us.

To be honest, I have struggled with that. Not that I have lived a life of ease by any means, but I've struggled because at times I don't see God leading me. To be completely honest, at times I'm not sure I really like where He seems to have led me thus far.

Yesterday in church we sang "I surrender all." I don't normally sing that hymn because quite frankly it isn't true. How can I sing "I surrender all" while telling God, "You better not even think about touching that!!! Or that! Or nope, not that either." But I realized I did want to surrender all. I contemplated what a life totally surrendered would look like, I counted the cost to see if I could. I came up short. I know I can't. But I also know God can.

Last night I had trouble sleeping so I'm mulling over a surrendered life, I'm praying again through the verses I had to in the day's Bible study lesson I had completed. I found myself praying that I would be a living sacrifice. I heard myself whisper the words in a dark world, "I present myself to You, Lord, as a living sacrifice. I am willing to move to the next "this far" part of my life. I am willing to step forward. I don't want to and I can't stay here."

It was then I had my answer to the "this far God has brought me...." question. He brought me to being alive at 40 years 6 months and 15 days. I thought back on all the times and all the reasons I should not be here now. Yet I am I kept here alive because of Him.

I had a time of sweet thanking God for my many blessings after that revelation. WOW!

Which brings me to my day.

I woke up too late to run.
I overfilled my one cup of caffeinated coffee.
I tried to take a picture but my photo card was not in my camera.
I can't find the cord to the camera so I can get the pictures off it's internal memory.
I almost lost it completely with my 10-year old and her math.
I had to remind the girls again to pick up all their dirty clothes and inform them that dire consequences will befall them when next they don't.
Just as I was stepping into the shower I heard a "clunk" and there was almost no water coming out the shower head. I have that soaking now in vinegar to see if I can fix it. If not...guess I get to spend $$ to fix it.
I thought bad thoughts about the previous owner of our house for their cheap fixes.
I put my thumb through my shirt as I put it on. I've only worn this shirt two other times.

As I was washing my hair in the sink, trying not to think bad words because of my horrible morning, and trying desperately not to blame it all on Monday, God gently spoke to my heart.

You surrendered all to Me. You meant it. Your enemy does not want this. He wants anything but for you to live a life of total surrender to Me.

I then thought of verses like Ephesians 6 that says after I've armed myself with the armor, I am to stand firm. I thought of the verse in Peter I am told to "Resist the devil and he must flee". I found myself muttering "Resist. Stand firm". I also found myself once more offering my body as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing in His sight.

I do have an enemy and apparently he loves to torment me on a Monday. I know that I am already a victor over him because my Jesus died on the cross assuring me victory.

And now that is something worth getting my praise on!

GO MAD Monday

2010-09-27T09:13:00.000-07:00

Do you remember a few weeks ago when I was pondering why it was so hard to see if I had done anything to make a difference? I wondered if I was simply so self-absorbed I couldn't even begin to think of meeting a need in someone else, or was I merely spending all my time pouring myself into others, making a difference in their life that nothing came immediately to mind. (You can find that post here)

Today I was so self-absorbed, I completely forgot about GO MAD Monday.

I am in the process of slowing decluttering my house. I love it. I love seeing things go out the door in some form or fashion. I have had garage sales and I've found my best friend, Craigslist. I have had some measure of success selling things using that service. Some items I have had to list multiple times before they sell, but for the most part I'm incredibly happy with craigslist.

A few weeks ago or so I re-listed my canning jars. I don't can at all. I have tried. I've tried making my own jam but honestly, it's not for me unless I have someone to can with me. And all my canning buddies have left me.

I had a fairly large box of canning jars and lids. And since canning season is upon us I thought they would go quickly. But several days went by and no one seemed interested.

Last week I received an email from a girl wondering if I still had them. We emailed back and forth one morning and I discovered she didn't live locally, she had an 8 month old baby, was in school full-time, she has three boys, one with Aspergers, lives in the country and works part-time.

And she was asking for my address so she could mapquest it to see how far she would have to drive. I offered to meet her halfway.

We met in a small town and I gave her the jars. She was happy to get them. And probably happy she didn't have to drive three hours round-trip to get them.

I know I probably spent more getting there than I made, and finances are tight but I can't help but think I ministered to her somehow by meeting her. And I know it was a God-thing because who in the name of getting rid of things and making a few dollars, drives 90 miles (round trip) to deliver jars, knowing it would cost them all the money they should be making?

(my apologies for the disjointedness of this post....we are fully entrenched in our school day and I had multiple interruptions to my thought processes)

What did you do to GO MAD Monday?

A weighty issue

2010-09-27T07:17:00.000-07:00

Hey, my friend Kathi, is requesting prayer. Prayer that she would believe God, have Faith that what He says is true. Even when it involves a "weighty" subject. So head over to her blog (Kathi Lipp) and since we can all relate, leave your prayer in her comments! You will be blessed and so will she!

I would like to take the time to say...

2010-09-27T07:01:00.001-07:00

I would KILL for a good hard freeze RIGHT NOW. I am so very tired of headaches and a runny nose.

That is all.

Contentment vs. Complacency

2010-09-26T08:06:00.000-07:00

I've been pondering this two things a lot lately. I want to be contentment but I do not want to be complacent in anything.

I think contentment is being happy with what you have, while not denying there might be a need in the future. Jesus says we are to be content with housing, food and clothing. If we have those basic necessities we have all we need to be content. That does not mean we won't need more food, more clothes or a different house/neighborhood.

Complacency is a lazy contentment. A contentment that says, "I don't want anything and I refuse to acknowledge a need because then I will need to do something to meet that need." Complacency denies needs because it deems everything a want. Complacency says, "I have food. I will never need food and I will be content with the food I have. I have clothes. I will never need more clothes. I have a house. I will never for any reason need a different house. So I won't even bother grocery shopping, clothes shopping, or house shopping for any reason."

That might be overly simplistic, and taken a bit too far. We all know we'll need to get more food and we can't wear the same clothes all the time. That is ridiculous.

But so is denying any need we have because we're content with what we have.

I love love to save money!!!

2010-09-21T07:13:00.000-07:00

I do. I am always so thrilled when I do. I tend to be more "free" than Russ. Not free in the sense of driving us to the poor house, or not paying bills, but free in that I'll see something I know someone would LOVE and okay I'll admit it, I know they would LOVE me for giving it to them. So I'll buy it.

But that has changed...somewhat. I still enjoy doing that but more often than not, I'll count the cost and find something else. My favorite place to shop is the clearance rack, and even still my girls will tell you I more often than not will say, "That's not low enough for me." and I'll walk away. No more impulse shopping for this girl. Instead of burning a hole in my pocket, money now burns a hole in my hand, so I leave it safely tucked away.

My favorite grocery store closed down early this summer and I was in a definite quandary as to where to shop. We have a super Wal Mart and well..no thanks. The other two stores left a lot to be desired in my estimation. To me they seemed dirty and that wasn't counting the "soft" porn in the check stands. I started shopping at the least of the evils and had to force myself to go.

Fast forward to last month, August. I was desperate to get out of town. Desperate. D.E.S.P.A.R.A.T.E!!! I thought if I just casually mentioned I'd like to travel, we would find a million and fifty reasons why we couldn't afford it. But if I said I wanted to go out of town to check out a store we don't have here, and "hey why don't we combine it with a trip to see your sister", it would seem so much more...legitimate.

Yes, if I were an Eskimo, I could rationalize spending money on an ice machine. Just sayin'.

We went. And I shopped. And I loved it. I loved filling my grocery cart full of good healthy food for a month. For a fraction of what I would have spent at home.

I kid you not. I spent about $175 on food for my family of 4 for a month. I did need to purchase more milk and fruit mid-month, but the bulk of the shopping was done.

I just returned home last week from another shopping trip. The girls and I went on Thursday, not to visit my sister-in-law, but to a town a little closer. I was amazed! I spent about $100 more than in August but I also bought some non-food items. I will still need to get milk and fruit mid-month but I won't be spending all the household envelope every two weeks.

I have been asked for some tips on saving money. It can be done!!! I'll be sharing those tips in the next few days/weeks. So stay tuned!!

Waiting for God

2010-09-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

When I was in college I was bound and determined to make it big in Hollywood. In my History of Theatre class, my professor spent a lot of time talking about his favorite play, Waiting for God. Which is not pronounced "God" but "Guh-Doh". I don't remember much about the play but I do remember it ends with God not showing up.

Fast forward a few hundred years, yesterday my girls and I traveled to a larger town in Wyoming to do some serious shopping. I rocked the "Saving Money World." It was as if I became Dave Ramsey. Or at least I had him in my back pocket. I saved so much money I thought I would go back to college and finish my degree, only I would not study Waiting for God again, I would study finance. Forget that simple math can drive me batty. I knew I could rival Dave Ramsey at his own game. I knew it.

In order to get to this larger town, I had to drive through some pretty desolate places on some pretty deserted highways. I do not live in a large urban area. Farm ground and ranches are much more prevalent here than any high rise office buildings. You are more likely to see farm stores and men in cowboy boots caked in manure than anything resembling Wall Street wear. My part of the world has a definite beauty, but for some, it's just to desolate. Maybe you have to live here to see and appreciate the true beauty.

To keep myself from going batty with silence (the girls were working on school in the back seat), and to keep my spirit focused on WHAT is truly important, and to prevent my panicky about buying twice as much groceries with half the money, (that is another post!) I listened to KLOVE until I ran out of the signal. When that happened I popped in my Aaron Shust cd.

On the way home, Aaron's song, My Savior My God, was playing when I was passed by a semi-truck heading in the opposite direction. As he passes, I look in the rearview mirror and I am shocked to see all of this truck in my lane. I could only pray over and over, Thank YOU! I have no idea how he could pass me and immediately be completely in my lane without hitting me.

"My Savior loves, My Savior lives, My Savior's always there for me."

What might have been simple platitudes before became very real. There is nothing more real, than hearing My Savior Lives and realizing had God not stepped in, the semi most certainly would have clipped at least the back of my van. At 65 miles an hour, I most certainly would have lost control and it could have been deadly.

I am no longer Waiting for GOD, He showed up in a big way. And I will never be the same.

GO MAD Monday

2010-09-14T07:02:00.000-07:00

I know it's Tuesday but yesterday was a busy day with no computer time. So today you get my Go MAD Monday post.

I really had trouble this week. I seem to be so busy I forget to go M.A.D. I don't know I'm just so self-centered that other people don't even hit my radar or if I'm just so busy giving my life for others that nothing stands out as "you did this to make a difference in someone's life". I do know I don't often sit down and think, "Go MAD Monday is coming up and I need to do something for someone else because I need blog fodder." It seems rather fake if the only reason I do something is so I can blog about it.

We home school. This year has been different and difficult to say the least. If you follow my homeschool blog, you might know a little taste of the year we've had.

My oldest is now a 5th grader and her sister is in 3rd grade. For a couple of years A has become convinced that she hates math and therefore doesn't want to/can't do it. We use Singapore math and it is advanced. She is learning things in math I opted out of in high school.

We switched curriculum last year and had her redo third grade math. She struggled. She finished third grade math and started fourth grade. She didn't quite complete half of fourth grade math before the year was finished. So this year she is finishing fourth grade and I'm hopeful she will be able to finish 5th grade as well. The things she is learning, she is learning well enough to do quite well on her achievement tests she takes every April.

Last week I had a meeting and came home to find all three of my family members doing school at the table, Elizabeth was working on correcting her grammar and Ariana was doing math. In tears. When at 9 o'clock we sent her to shower and go to bed, I said I was finished with that math. Every night for over a week our family time had been spent working on school and I was done. I was done with every waking moment spent on school. I was done done done. I reasoned, "If I wanted to do school all night long, I would send them to school and we'd work on homework all night long. I homeschool so I can avoid that." (among other reasons.)

I planned on printing off math sheets for her while I perused curriculum again. But I hate to waste money. I already had math curriculum, surely there was some way to use what I had already. I decided to, instead of telling her, showing her and having her do it while I got something else done, we would start first thing, when she was fresh and we would work every single problem together.

I started that last Wednesday, September 8. We spent just over an hour working on math. And she finished three pages with all the answers correct. We were completely done with school by 12:15. It felt so good.

I continue to sit with Ariana and we spend an hour working on math. It is amazing the difference a little sacrifice on my part has made in her. I think I heard her tell Dear Man she liked what she was learning in math!

What did you do to "Go MAD Monday"?

WAHOOZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

2010-09-08T07:17:00.001-07:00

Bible study starts today!!!

Oh brother

2010-09-07T07:44:00.000-07:00

Hahahahahahahahaha.

I thought today was Monday. But it's not. It's Tuesday. My Go M.A.D. Monday post, should have been posted yesterday.

Go M.A.D Monday

2010-09-07T06:55:00.000-07:00

I knew I should have thought of this a little more. When I went MAD this week, it wasn't in any real tangible way, and I'm not sure it had the desired effect.

You know the saying "The more things change, the more they stay the same"? That thought kept running through my mind Sunday as our pastor of 19 years (!!!!!) stepped down to partially retire. The transition from our associate pastor moving to the role of senior pastor has been planned and in the works for a couple of years, so it wasn't a harsh, abrupt thing.

It isn't like Jake died suddenly and we were all left in the lurch. It isn't like he won't be attending our church anymore, because he will be.

It isn't really like there is a huge sense of loss either, at least not on my part. I still get to see him, talk to him, interact with him. I still get to tell him the funny things my children do.

Sunday morning when I walked into church I glanced at the darkened sanctuary. We normally have 2 services so the sanctuary is not dark when I arrive. As I glanced in, I saw Jake sitting there alone with just his thoughts for company.

I quietly slipped in the back and sat next to him in the pew. I didn't say much ( I know...hard to imagine), I did say he was forbidden from dying. I simply wouldn't allow it. We chatted about chastening, and he told me I could not send my girlies to him because he was done with that. But I know if he ever sees them behave in a way that is wrong, he will step up and correct them. We talked about how we were all younger when he first came to our church. He was only a couple years older than my dear man is now. My mind kept going to the day in May of 1995 when I wore white and walked down that aisle that seemed 10 years long. We chatted about weddings and agreed that mine was the best. (I might have been the one to say it and he might have just agreed and I might be just a little bit biased.) He told me a friend of his preferred funerals to weddings because "he's never buried someone who became unburied."

I kept quietly wondering what it will be like to have a pastor who is less than a year older than I am. I haven't ever had a peer be my pastor. I do know, that while I love both men, I won't have the same relationship with Dan as I have with Jake. Jake has, maybe unknowing, stepped in and filled a lack in my life. I've been mentored by him and his wife, I've looked to them, I've watched them and thought, "I want to be like that!"

I went into the darkened, almost un-inhabited sanctuary early Sunday morning to minister, but I am the one who walked away ministered too.

Motivationally challenged.

2010-09-06T10:58:00.000-07:00

Cassidy took my Hop-a-long.

My get up and go, got up and went.

If I had zero motivation, I would have more than I have right now.

Last night we were asking the girls what they learned. It was Beanie's turn to share and this is what she said, "I learned that if you put a bumble bee in a tumbler and roll it down a hill, it will die."

The sermon illustration actually went more like this, "If you put a bumble bee in a tumbler, and leave the top open it will poke along the bottom looking for a way out until it dies. Because it doesn't think to look up and fly out."

A few weeks ago I was challenged to run every day. Okay actually a friend told me he had run every day for 51 days. I thought "I can do better than that."

Because I'm nice that way.

And my goal is running every day for 52 days. I don't have to beat him by much, just beat him. I started August second, today was my 36th day of running. I was not motivated in the least bit. No, in fact to say that doesn't begin to touch how unmotivated I really was.

So I ran for a grand total of five minutes. Yup, I ran a half a mile and walked the half mile home. I don't have to run long or hard, I just have to run. Shoot, I could have run from the bedroom to the chair and called it good.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

2010-09-02T19:57:00.001-07:00

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

It is time

2010-09-02T07:43:00.001-07:00

It's time to announce the winner of my Wise Giveaway!!! I would have announced it yesterday but we started school and let's just say...it was most decidedly NOT a good day.

So, our winner is Maura!!! I'll be in contact with her about her winning and I'll pop it in the mail. I'm sure she will be thrilled!

Go MAD

2010-09-01T06:48:00.000-07:00

This morning I am continuing my study of the gospel of Luke. I am supposed to be reading verses 25-37, but I don't think I'll make it through those 12 verses. Because I was forced to stop after verse 29. Don't you just love it when God jumps off the page and you're forced to stop and ponder what you just read?

I do. I love it when God says, "I don't care how many verses you're "supposed" to read. Stop here! Ponder this. Meditate on it. Make it a part of you."

These 4 verses reveal the story of the scribe who asked Jesus what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. This scribe was, pardon the pun, well versed in the law. He had written it (and other things, to be sure) probably at least once and probably more often. Yet, he came to see what Jesus said he would need to do to obtain eternal life.

This passage says nothing about the man wanting to trap Jesus in any way. Maybe he was and maybe he wasn't. But obviously this man, who knew the law, knew that eternal life could not come from the law.

But Jesus ever faithful to meet us where we are, used what this man knew to give him an answer. He asked the man;

What does the law of Moses say? How do you read it?

The man answered Jesus:

'You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength and all your mind.' And 'love your neighbor as yourself.''

Jesus tells him to "do this and you will live". I don't think the man misunderstood Jesus' point. But his next question is what stopped me. He asked, "Who is my neighbor?"

I noticed he didn't ask who his God was. I wonder if it is easier to love a somewhat abstract God than it is to love a tangible neighbor? Is it easier to love and serve God, or at least profess to love and serve God, while ignoring at best or hating at worst our neighbor?

Can one love God and hate their neighbor? We see other teachings of Jesus that deny that possibility.

Was Jesus calling this man's love of God into question, or his love for his neighbor? Obviously the man had trouble loving his neighbor. (and we know from Jesus answer, our neighbor is not only the one living next door) This man is not the only one, I need look no further than my own heart and know that is true.

KLOVE is promoting a "Go MAD" campaign of sorts. They encourage listeners to "Go MAD Mondays", or "Go Make A Difference". Go do something to show love, kindness and compassion for your neighbor. I enjoy listening to people call in and share what they have done in the past week to Go MAD.

I think the more often we "GO MAD!" the more our love for our neighbor will grow. And I don't know about you but I want to live. And since loving my neighbor is part of how I will live, I'm all for it.

I know it's Wednesday, but I'd like to issue a challenge to my readers. Let's Go MAD! Let's think of things we can do and then take it the next step and actually DO IT, between now and next Monday. Then on Monday, let's blog about what we have done, what the reaction is, and how it affected us. Please make sure you leave me a comment so I can come read how you went MAD and if you need to, link back to this post.

Some simple ideas to get your creative juices flowing:

Pay for the car behind you in the drive-thru lane. Tell them "Jesus paid for them"
Leave enough money with the barrista to buy the next customer one speciality drink
Carry in groceries for your neighbor
Offer to walk a dog
Offer free babysitting to a harried, frustrated Mom
Make something for someone else, either a meal, cake, or a craft

Miraclous

2010-08-31T08:34:00.000-07:00

I've been reading through the gospel of Luke. Some of you might remember my post here about Warren Wiersbe's book/bible study on the first thirteen chapters of Luke. I said when I reviewed it that I hadn't had time to really delve into it but I would because I could really see a need in my own life to be more compassionate.

I have been very true to my word. I started it almost immediately and in the past few weeks I have learned so much. I am just right now starting chapter 10 and I am seeing things, learning things I never realized before. I can't tell you the number of times I have read the book of Luke but this time is different. I know, "The Word of God is quick and powerful" and I know because it is living you will always learn something from reading it.

I've realized, fully realized, just what the disciples gave up to follow Jesus. They sacrificed EVERYTHING. They left home, jobs, family, everything. To follow an itinerant rabbi who was always just left of the law-keepers. The day my eyes were opened to this, I couldn't help but pray, "Lord, what can I sacrifice for You?" Immediately I had an answer and immediately I made the sacrifice. It wasn't easy, but it has gotten easier.

Today I was reading the first 24 verses of chapter 10. You know, Luke is telling us of Jesus sending out the 72 other disciples. We are told in verse 9, that Jesus told them to "heal the sick". I had to stop and ask "How?" When they returned rejoicing because the demons were subject to them, Jesus says in verse 19

I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you."

I told Jesus if it was okay with Him, I would rather not walk on snakes. Unless He specifically told me too.

Warren Wiersbe says that these miracles, the miracles Jesus commissioned the 72 disciples to carry out, are not available today. We can't heal the sick, we can't cast out demons. Those miracles were for a time only and now is not the time.

I am not sure I agree. Quite frankly, I'm almost positive I don't. You see, my Bible very clearly says that my God does not change, there is no shadow of turning with Him, He is the same, yesterday, today and forever. And while He can and does use different methods to get His point across to humanity. He is the same. If He did miracles 2000 years ago, He STILL does miracles today. I think...no I KNOW He still desires to use us to accomplish, to perform the miracles He longs to do in our midst.

I am reminded though of the town (I believe it was Nazareth) Jesus refused to do any miracles for them, why? Because of unbelief.

In Luke 4,Jesus tells them there were plenty of widows in Israel, but God sent Elijah outside of Israel, there were many in Israel with leprosy during the time of Elisha, but only one was healed and he was Naaman the Syrian. While Jesus does not say, I am sure we can conclude that these two outsiders were healed because of their belief.

I believe that to be true of those of us in western civilization today. I don't believe the miracles of healing, casting out demons is over and done with. I firmly believe those of us living in the western world don't see any miracles because of affluence of purse and poverty of faith. Jesus marvels over the faith of the Romans who came to Him for healing, "I have never see such faith in all Israel!"

I am not by any means, saying we aren't healed because of our lack of faith. I am saying we don't see the miracles those in other cultures see because of our lack of faith...corporately.

I wept when I read of a husband praying for his wife, who was in agony. She had taken pain meds but it was too late to keep the pain under control, and now she was behind the proverbial 8 ball. Awake in the wee hours because of pain. Writhing and crying. Her husband, prayed that the pain would be taken away. And immediately it lessened in severity and soon was gone.

That my friends is a miracle! That is what Jesus longs to do for each of us. But our lack of faith....our affluence of doctors, our affluence of purse, our affluence of attitudes that scream "I can pull myself up, thank you."

It's not that we don't seek Him, not that we don't ask Him, we just don't really know if we really believe He not only can but that He wants to heal us. That He wants to perform miracles in and through us.

I can't help but cry out, "Lord, I believe, but help my massive unbelief. I want to see miracles! I want to see Your power, I want to see You are more powerful than everything."

See, I don't really think those of us in western civilization really think God is more powerful than anything. Powerful? Yes, maybe. To a point. But more powerful than cancer? More powerful than planes crashing into buildings? More powerful than a murderer? More powerful than my debt? More powerful than my own propensity to sin?

He is! Even if right now I can only say that because of a head knowledge, I long for the time I can say I believe it because I've seen His hand at work. I've seen Him perform miracles. I've seen Him calm my storms, and I've seen Him calm me in the midst of my storms.

Jesus is moved not by our affluence, not by what we can do for Him. No. He is moved by our faith.

100th Post to say:

2010-08-30T10:01:00.001-07:00

An optimist hangs clothes outside in a rain storm, positive it will stop.

A pessimist never hangs clothes out because it might rain.

No joke.

2010-08-29T12:40:00.000-07:00

This morning, the following really happened. Our worship leader said, "You may all be seated now."

"Thank You, Lord!"

One of those mornings

2010-08-27T06:41:00.000-07:00

"The only problem with mornings, is they come before my first cup of coffee"

Truer words were never spoken by mortal man. I used to be a night owl, I would gladly stay up half the night, I thought mornings were for sleeping. But since I've been running, I'm finding I love mornings! I do. I get up at 6, run and then I have the whole day stretching out before me, to fill with all sorts goodness.

But the coffee issue..is an issue. If I were to say, get up at 5 I could drink a cup before my run, but I'm not that much of a morning person. In my opinion, 5 only comes around once a day.

I have learned my coffee pot makes a great cup of coffee even better if I let water saturate the grounds before it brews into the carafe. I leave the carafe off until about a cup of water has gone through, then I add the carafe and brew to perfection.

Only this morning, it didn't work out that way. I was sitting in my chair minding my own business when I heard water boiling over on the stove. I tried and tried to think of what I had started cooking before I sat down and came up empty.

So I thought it must be the neighbor. I have no idea why I thought that other than I hadn't had my first cup of coffee yet to know how absolutely crazy that was.

Since it wasn't me boiling water over on the stove I stayed in my chair listening to the sound of water burning and making a mess. When it hit me,

MY COFFEE!!!!

I learned a valuable lesson this morning: even if you have a "pause and serve" feature on your coffeepot, if you get enough water in it, the coffee will brew even without the carafe.

I wish there was a way to get the first cup of coffee before you've made you first cup of coffee.

Tar-Jei

2010-08-25T07:40:00.000-07:00

I love Target. I love everything about Target. I love walking in, wandering the aisles. I love ferreting out their bargains.

A good date for me is an hour alone to wander Target. I don't even have to buy anything. Just wander and dream. In fact, sometimes I go there to get something simple like a loaf of bread and I'll take forty-five minutes just wandering. I'm not lost, I'm just wandering Target checking out all the sales and future purchases. I'll even mentally play the "if I ever win the receipt sweepstakes, this is what I'll do with the gift card" game. You know, the sweepstakes on the bottom of the receipt, where you either call or go online and rate their service and then you'll be entered to win a $1000 gift card. I just need to start remembering to enter. Yeah, details tend to slip my mind.

Because my mind is a slippery place.

On this past Sunday afternoon, I had the dubious honor of wandering Target. I had a legitimate reason for being there, we needed bread. Since Dear man was at the park with the girlies, I had time to meander aimlessly through the hallowed aisles, commenting to every store employee of my deep and abiding love of Target.

In my aimless meanderings, I stopped to look at some clearance items when another shopper said "excuse me" and walked between me and the sale items. I kept my meanderings and trailed this interloper down the aisle.

We were just pat the toys and headed straight to school supplies, when out of the blue she stopped and turned around.

I really should stop following people so closely.

She looked at me and said, "I know who you are!"
I am busy racking my brain trying to place her because I'm not remembering her at all. I am sure I must have met her at sometime and some place but I'm coming up empty on a name, when she says, "You're my neighbor."

Okay that was a slight hint. But I know my neighbors and well, she wasn't ringing a bell. She must have seen my puzzled look because she exclaimed, "You're the jogger."
"Why yes, I am."
She points to herself as she says, "Porch sitter."
"Well we all have our jobs to do."

Pray Big

2010-08-24T14:21:00.000-07:00

Four years ago, almost exactly, my then-three-year old and I had the following conversation:

E: Mommy, does God hear when I pray quietly?
Me: "Yes."
E: Oh because He's a guy?
Me: (laughing a bit) No because He's God.

She had been praying quietly and was concerned that God would be able to hear her since no one else could. There are times I relate to this sentiment, especially those times it seems God isn't listening, isn't hearing, because He isn't moving.

I just finished reading "Faith Set Free" by Will Davis Jr. I've alluded to the book here and here. Don't let the title fool you, it is a book on prayer. Will Davis Jr. has also written Pray Big, Pray Big for Your Marriage, Pray Big for Your Child.

I love to talk but praying is very difficult for me. I'm ashamed and sad to admit that because it is so difficult, I often don't pray. I'll pray before meals, and at bedtime. But I don't seek out times to just pray. I've been known to step into my garage and scream, "HELP ME NOW!!!!"

A month ago I started praying through The Lord's Prayer, adding my own words and thoughts to it. That last a week or two and then it became a drudgery. I'm sure God is thrilled when I talk to Him just because I have to, or just so I can check it off my mental to-do list.

But Faith Set Free changed all of that. I knew before my prayers didn't have to be long and flowery, or even necessarily flowing, but when I would listen to people prattle on to God, I felt so insecure because so often when I approach His throne I am struck with my own horrible sinfulness and His Own Great Holiness. And I am struck dumb. All thoughts leave my mind, I can't even think where to begin.

I know we're promised access with confidence to His throne where we find grace and mercy and help.

This book will revolutionize your prayer life. Even if you're not like me and have a great prayer life. Mr. Davis takes you through The Lord's Prayer in new, pinpoint way. "Lord, make Your name holy in my life today. Lord, bring Your kingdom to my heart today."

You really owe it to yourself to get this book. Either get it from your local Christian bookstore or click the link above. You will not be sorry!!

"I too want to be a dangerous Christian, and moving out in faith-based courage is where dangerous Christianity begins." (page 111) "Father, equip me to be on my guard and to stand firm in the faith. Make me a person of courage and make me strong." (page 113)

Abraham

2010-08-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned the book I'm reading, Faith Set Free by Will Davis, Jr before. It is an incredible book but I'm not here to talk about that book.

I was reading it last night and Mr. Davis was talking about Abraham and my brain went off on a tangent that had nothing to do with the book.

Abraham has always intimidated me. His great faith, his unwavering devotion to a God he couldn't see. To a God who seemed to ask an awful lot of him and yes, God made enormous promises but they were all in the distant future, he had no real reward in the here and now.

Maybe I'm motivated by the wrong things, but I'm not sure I could obey like Abraham. I like the reward for good behavior promise. I like knowing if I do this, then I will get that. I like knowing if I run 2 miles today, I can have custard from Culver's this afternoon.

Abraham was told "Go, and I'll tell you when to stop going." And he went. God called Abraham (Abram then though) out of Ur of the Chaldeans, a pagan nation. Did Abram even know who God was? Did he say he was having a bit of wanderlust when he packed up his family and left?

If he knew God, what steps of faith did he take with God to get to the point of absolute utter and immediate obedience?

Abraham was promised a son. It took about 10 years but God fulfilled his promise. After Abraham tried and failed to push God into his box and make God operate on Abraham's (or more likely Sarah's) timetable. Then God told Abraham to sacrifice his promised son.

And the text in Genesis says "early the next morning....Abraham left." We aren't told of any argument Abraham might have offered. We are told the next morning, not after he had consulted Sarah, his family, his Bible, and his horoscope, we aren't told he prayed about it for a month or a year, we're told he did it early the very next morning. What small steps of faith did Abraham take with God to get to this point?

We read of Abraham's big steps of faith, and some of his faith failures, but what about the small steps that made the big steps possible? Abraham was no different from me, and I would find it incredibly hard to just silently obey God in those two big things. Leaving and not knowing where I'm going? Hard. Sacrificing one of my children? Impossible! (Just had a thought....I'm sure human sacrifices were a way of life in Ur, but Abraham wasn't in Ur anymore. He didn't worship the gods he worshiped in Ur. Was he thinking God was no different than the gods he had worshiped?)

I know enough of faith to know I have to be faithful, I have to find God faithful in the small things or when the big things come the faith I need to survive won't be there.

I want faith like Abraham. I need faith like Abraham. I want to know what small steps of faith he took to be the faith giant we know him to have been today. Not that I think God is going to give me the same small faith steps, because I know He probably won't.

But because it would make Abraham more real. More someone I can relate to. Someone I can see who has hang ups, like me, someone who despite all of life, chose to believe.

A wise Giveaway

2010-08-23T09:13:00.000-07:00

Years ago I picked up a book titled, "Amish Girl" at a garage sale. I had no idea how to say "Amish" and pronounced it more like "Aim-ish". It took me several months to read it and realize it wasn't just another "Little House on the Prairie" type book. But it was actually a modern time book about people who chose to live like Laura Ingalls Wilder. And they weren't just playing, like I did.

I wouldn't say I started a love affair with all things Amish, but I did start a lifelong fascination with them. There were times in my life I wanted to go to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania just to see an Amish person up close and personal. I don't know what I expected to see really. Since they are merely people just like me, who dress differently and live life differently. (Imagine my absolute amazement when I discovered the Amana Colonies was not a warehouse full of refrigerators but actually a place in Iowa where Amish live.)

I know myself well enough to know there is no way I could live like they do. I like my electricity and my air conditioned van too much. But the simple way of life...that is something my very heart longs for. I desire to live simply and simply live. I am tired of all the hustle and bustle of life in America. I don't like that we are incredibly busy all the time and yet we are accomplishing so little.

I had the honor of reading "Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life" by Suzanne Woods Fisher. In this book I read such treasures as: "One thing you can learn from watching the clock is that it passes the time by keeping its hands busy." And "Many times we are climbing mountains when we ought to be resting." And these gems: "Kissing wears out, cooking don't." "There is one thing more exasperating than a wife who can cook and won't, and that's the wife who can't cook and will."

I have a tendency to yammer on at times. I know. Such a shock and you'd never believe it. So this proverb hit me squarely between the eyes, "Remember, when you talk, you only repeat what you already know; if you listen you might learn something."

Those few proverbs are just a sample of the wealth of wisdom from Suzanne Woods Fisher's book. I know I will read this book over and over.

I have one extra copy to give away to one fortunate blog commenter!! All you have to do is comment with your favorite proverb, I'll gather all the names in a hat my children will pick one winner!! The drawing will be done on September 1.

I can't wait to read your proverbs!!

Suzanne's Amish Proverbs just hit the shelves. To celebrate she's giving away a KINDLE and throwing a party! Let the fun begin. See below for info and links.

Find out more about the book, Suzanne and the blog tour here.

Enter Suzanne Woods Fisher's Simple Wisdom KINDLE Giveaway!

One Grand Prize winner will receive a Kindle preloaded with Suzanne Woods Fisher titles. The Prize Pack (valued at over $205.00) includes:

* A brand new KINDLE, Free 3G, 6", Latest Generation

* Amish Peace by Suzanne Woods Fisher

* The Choice by Suzanne Woods Fisher

To enter, simply click on the icons below to fill out the entry form, then tell 5 or more friends about the contest.

Oh, and enter soon! Winner will be announced on September 1st.

Join Suzanne for a Wrap-up Party on September 1st!

She’ll be announcing the winner of the Simple Wisdom KINDLE Giveaway, chatting with readers, and giving away copies of Amish Proverbs and The Choice! Be sure to join us on Wednesday , September 1st at 8PM EST at Suzanne’s Author Page

Be sure to check out the blog tour here or purchase a copy of Amish Proverbs: Words of Wisdom from the Simple Life!

Mabel and Abigail.

2010-08-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

This afternoon as we were having lunch, my seven-year old told me "Mrs. G brought donuts today." Mrs. G is her first and second grade Sunday school teacher and is a pediatrician and not known for bringing sugary snacks. Or snacks of any kind. So to say today was a momentous occasion, would be like saying the Atlantic Ocean is really just a small pond.

Beanie then informed me, "She brought glazed donuts." Glazed donuts are my absolute favorite. You can have your chocolate, you can have your frosted, you can have your cake donuts, I'll take the plain ol' glazed ones.

I asked Beanie what donuts had to do with any Bible story the class might have discussed. I thought maybe David and table of shewbread, but she informed me the donuts weren't really part of the story, because Mrs. G couldn't find what was actually needed.

"Well, what was your story?" Because by now I'm really wondering and since donuts were not the key, I was thinking of Jesus cooking fish after the resurrection, Passover, wedding supper of the Lamb.

"Mabel and Abigail."

Okay I have no clue who Mabel is in the Bible and it took me a minute to remember who exactly Abigail was. I told Beanie as much and she informed me, "You know, Momma, Abigail is Mabel's wife."

Oh. Sure. Yeah. His name is Nabal. N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nay-bull.

Something new.

2010-08-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

A year ago I bought a dress I loved and was in my size. No need to try it on because I had one in my hands that was the same size and I knew it fit.

You might be wondering why it is thumbtacked to my door. Well I have one very good reason for that.

It didn't fit.

I could get it on okay at least as far as my hips. Then it was a no-go. And since I usually try and go places with my whole backside covered, especially to church, I tacked it to the door to tell myself, "That will fit and I will wear it!!"

Today is (hopefully) the day. I know it fits me because I've tried it on before. But there are some ~~small~~ errr huge (no pun intended at all) parts of me that are rather insecure about my "grandma arms". You know the arms one could fly with. The ones that look like the flaps on airplane wings? Those.

I do have a light cover up I could wear but that merely contains the arm flaps. But I would feel better.

Except it's supposed to be 97 degrees here today. And the cover up while being a light-weight, is dark chocolate brown. And I'm thinking I might be just a tad bit hot.

Except I'd be comfortable in church. (and isn't that why we go to church in the first place? To be comfortable..) I don't know about your sanctuary but you could hang meat in mine. It seems I am literally taken from the freezer to the frying pan.
**************************************************************************

I'm reading a rather good book, and this has nothing to do with the dress above, called Faith Set Free by Will Davis Jr. He talks about taking the time to really pray for ourself. Now I will review this book when I'm finished and you will want to come back when I do, so I'm not going into too much detail here. He revolutionized the way I view the Lord's Prayer. Today I started praying it the way Mr. Davis suggested. And let me tell you, it must be effective because I've had a few firey darts thrown my way already. And I've been out of bed less than an hour.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Here is proof I wore it.

I just found this...

2010-08-21T18:56:00.000-07:00

and I still like it. From my old blog in 2008

IF

If you give a woman who likes to remodel and decorate a new kitchen faucet, she'll notice the sink looks even worse than before.

That means she'll want a new sink to match her new faucet. If you get her a new sink to match her new faucet, the countertops will look even more ugly than they currently do. Not to mentioned their out-dated-ness.

You will need to buy new counter tops to match the new sink that matches the new faucet. If you buy her new counter tops, she will notice how unseemly the cupboards look.

So you will again head for the local Home Depot and purchase new cupboards in a nice cherry wood maybe with some glass insets..slightly frosted. (okay slightly frosted with something other than frosting, dried ketchup, mustard, tomato sauce and all manner of things gross).

While you're there, you might as well buy more because we all know there aren't enough cupboards in the kitchen. And we must not forget the installation. Good thing Home Depot delivers and installs.

Once you get the cupboards installed, you'll realize you should have installed the cupboards before the silestone counter tops. Back again to Home Depot ...the silestone counter tops have..well met an untimely demise.

New cupboards and counter tops installed and she will realize the floor really needs replacing. So you'll replace that with...more of the same tired old pergo laminate flooring. But it looks better!

Ahhh...a new kitchen.

Now the woman will think..."The faucet doesn't match the kitchen now. I think we need to replace it."

(Now I do not have a new kitchen. But I am thinking I'll need to replace the kitchen faucet. I let my mind wander last night doing dishes with the spray nozzle.)

Darn Allergies~

2010-08-21T10:02:00.000-07:00

Literally! Ugh. At least that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

The other day I went for my every Thursday two-point-five-mile run. For now it's my long run,but next week it will be my easy run.

I'm actually pushing toward a 5K, which I know is only 3.1 miles but right now it might as well be 300.1 miles, or three thousand. one miles.

Anyway, so I went for my every-Thursday-two-point-five-mile run, came home and fell in a heap on the hardwood floor. That is not quite so unusual. In fact that is pretty much my MO. I run, I fall in a heap until I feel somewhat human again and then I drink chocolate milk and voila! I'm back to my old self. (emphasis on old...yup, I've hit a new decade..well that was about 6 months ago and it's taken me this long to acknowledge it.) When I, laying in a heap on the floor, realized I was very close to slipping into a coma; I got up and just went to bed. I planned on only sleeping for at the most one hour. If truth be told at all, I doubted I'd sleep at all. Once I'm up, I'm up for good.

So imagine my surprise when first of all I heard a strange rustling by my bed, opened one eye and jumped out of my skin. It seems my 10 year old decided Momma needed breakfast. So sweet. I promptly fell asleep again only to surface at 9:45.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I slept for 3 hours. I woke at almost 10. I honestly can't remember the last time I slept that late. The whole day was just weird after that. I mean I felt like the day was over and I was just getting started.

Friday I was determined I would not repeat it. I ran half a mile, a mere mile and half short. Considering I had no desire to run at all any little bit is better than nothing. I ran half a mile and walked the half mile home. Thereby negating the need to fall on the floor in a heap. No falling for me. I skipped my chocolate milk and ate yogurt instead. Then I worked. And I made coffee...with caffeine in it. And I drank it. A lot of it. All of it. I drank it. I had caffeine. A lot of caffeine. I became the Energizer bunny. Oh yeah.

I think I'll sleep again around Thanksgiving.

Sometimes we all need a Nudge

2010-08-20T08:22:00.000-07:00

It seems I often get what I call "spiritual nudges". You know, those times you have a thought flit through your head and instead of flitting right out again, it stays. It consumes your every waking moment.

Sometimes they happen when you're in the drive-thru line at McDonalds, the thought that says, "Pay for the car behind you. Tell the worker to say, 'Jesus paid for your meal'" type of thought. Or sometimes you're nudged to tell the cashier at the bank, grocery store, gas station, or just your neighbor, "Hey! Did you know Jesus loves you?!"

Those nudges that you can't escape and can't ignore. But seem so very hard to do, so hard it is almost impossible? Those nudges that when you've moved on and haven't done what you know you should have, you feel a tremendous sense of loss?

We traveled last weekend to visit family and since finances are tight, we took our supper of ham and cheese sandwiches and chips with us. As I was getting on the interstate (I'm more of a highway driver, I like to see the sights no one sees anymore because everyone is in too big of a hurry on the interstate), there was a couple with a sign. I have no idea what the sign said, but they looked like they could use a good meal. I felt the nudge to stop and empty our supper cooler at their feet, apologize that it wasn't much but it was all I had. And instead I kept my supper and zipped onto the interstate. All the while feeling, I had somehow failed miserably the test I had just been given. I could have been the flesh-and-blood Jesus for that couple and I chose to keep my meager meal.

Leonard Sweet wrote in his latest book, Nudge, about this very thing. Nudge is about being awake and aware of all the times we are nudged by God to evangelize, even in some small way, those around us. It is about being aware of God working in, through and with us to reach a lost and dying world.

I had the privilege of sending messages with questions about certain things in the book to Leonard Sweet and forgive the pun but he was sweet to answer. To say the book is not without controversy would be to say the sun is without heat. Or maybe it was just so radical to me it appeared controversial. It is to say the least, revolutionizing. It will revolutionize your thinking and how you view evangelism.

Here is a quote I found especially convicting.
" Evangelism is more being the good news than telling the good news. But sometimes you tell. In fact, the first postresurrection of Jesus contains the whole of nudge: 'Go quickly and tell." 'Go' means to get off your seat, on your feet, and leave your secure world to venture forth into where God is up to something. Forget about hijacking people into holy places. Fish where the fish are. But go fishing."

I first discovered Leonard Sweet about 10 years ago when I read "A cup of coffee at the Soul Cafe". A book I still, a decade later, highly recommend. I loved "Soul Salsa" and "The Gospel According to Starbucks". This book, though had me really questioning why I liked those books so much. I mean they seemed to agree with me and my thoughts, my theology, if you will. While Nudge seemed to be so "out there" for me. Nudge stretched me in places I had no idea needed stretching.

So when you read this book, prepare to be stretched. You can read the first chapter below, and then you'll have to go get the book to finish.

Today's Wild Card author is:

Leonard Sweet

and the book:

Nudge

David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2010)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Currently the E. Stanley Jones Professor of Evangelism at Drew University, Madison, NJ, and a Visiting Distinguished Professor at George Fox University, Portland, Oregon, Leonard Sweet has been Vice President of Academic Affairs and Dean of the Theological School at Drew University for five years. Author of more than two hundred articles, over twelve hundred published sermons, and dozens of books, Sweet is the primary contributor (along with his wife Karen Elizabeth Rennie) to the web-based preaching resource sermons.com. Sweet has held distinguished lectureships at various colleges, universities, and seminaries and has presented academic papers before major professional societies. The founder and president of SpiritVenture Ministries, Sweet is a frequent speaker at national and international conferences, state conventions, pastors’ schools, and retreats.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $19.99
Hardcover: 336 pages
Publisher: David C. Cook; New edition (August 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1434764745
ISBN-13: 978-1434764744

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

PAY ATTENTION:

EVERY BUSH IS BURNING

Pay attention.1

—Jesus

Brace yourself. This book is set to revolutionize your understanding of evangelism. Revolution—from the Latin revolvere—means “a fundamental change.” This revolution stands to shake the very roots of your faith, rattle the range of your mission, and roll the very limits of your freedom.

Wait a minute, you say! There’s a lot about me in that paragraph; I thought evangelism is about reaching out to others.

Remember “a fundamental change.” I think evangelism changes me as much as anybody.

A friar returned to his monastery after an Ignatian thirty-day retreat. Over granola the next morning, he was interrogated by a grumpy old member of the community who complained, “We’ve been working like slaves while you’ve been swanning around doing nothing! And look at you! You don’t look any different.”

“You’re quite right, I probably don’t,” was the reply. “But you do.”

Jesus’ last words in the gospel of Luke are these: “Go out and proclaim repentance and the forgiveness of sins.”2 But a biblical understanding of repentance is not red-faced anger at other people’s sins but red-faced embarrassment at my own brokenness and complicity in the evils and injustices of the world. Proclaiming repentance is as much about reminding me of my waywardness as it is about setting other people straight.

When I am engaging with people of other religious faiths, I find myself unable to commit to their conclusions or agree with their assessments. Yet at the same time I come away encouraged by the spiritual truths found in their traditions, thrilled by new insights into my own faith, and more passionate than ever about being a disciple of Jesus. The truth is illuminated and elongated in my mind, and my presuppositions and myopic perspectives are challenged and corrected in the process. Anything less would not be a conversation and would imply that truth is a proposition and not Christ.

To be a real agent of God, to connect with the neighbor … each

of us needs to know the truth about himself or herself.3

—Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams

I believe the lifeblood of evangelism is not propositions, but prepositions. For God to do something through us, God must be doing something in us. If we are not always evangelizing ourselves, we have no business evangelizing others. In fact, it is usually as God’s grace courses through us to someone else that we become aware of God’s love in and for us. Evangelism is an invitation for broken people together to meet the Christ who loves broken people. We all are damaged but loved, crushed but cherished, with a divine embrace. When love is the motivation for evangelism, nudging is love in action. And the cracks in our broken vases are where Jesus leaks out first.

Evangelism Jesus-style

I define evangelism as “nudge” and evangelists as “nudgers.” Evangelism is awakening each other to the God who is already there. Evangelism is nudging people to pay attention to the mission of God in their lives and to the necessity of responding to that initiative in ways that birth new realities and the new birth.

God only asks that we do what we do best, which is nudge; God takes it from there. The nudging act—the human contact, the meeting of eyes, the sharing of space, the entanglement of words, the sense of bodily interaction—is to the soul what blood is to the body. Without nudging, the body cannot reproduce.

Every person who crosses your threshold today is ripe for nudging. A nudge happens in proximity. Even the nudges across the Internet or by phone take place in a proximity of relationships. The integrity of a nudge requires that it be welcomed and that it be reciprocal. The purpose of a nudge is to manifest Christ in a moment of mutual knowing, which benefits both the person being nudged and the nudger. Nudging is not best driven by fear or by some need within the nudger. Nudges are not contrived but are the natural consequence of being with someone in a moment and wishing them to join you in recognizing a God-moment. The best nudges culminate in a grunt of mutual recognition. God nudges me because God likes me. I nudge others because I like them. There is an implied caring that comes with nudging.

So there you have it. Nudge—gently pushing people off their seats more than it is sitting people down or driving them to their knees. Nudging is more about sowing than reaping. To be clear, nudging encompasses the full range of gardening—from dropping a tiny seed into the ground, to loosening the dirt, watering, weeding, fertilizing, protecting from predators, picking the fruit, and even helping, in Jesus’ words, “the birds of the air … nest under its shade.”4 But every encounter is aimed not to “bring in the sheaves.” Nudging aims to bring people less to a decision than to an impression: not just to an hour of decision but a lifetime impression of God’s presence and the nearness of God’s kingdom. In fact, isn’t this the essence of sanctified living: to make our whole life a Un Oui Vivant,5 a “Living Yes” to the living Christ?

This is exactly the opposite of ignoring the need for a decision. Rather, it is respecting and reverencing the process, if one looks back on it, by which each of us came to that place of decision. When an impression leads to a decision, it’s “Hallelujah!” (or in my preferred way of stating it, “Javalujah!”) time. But the ultimate answer to that question “Who do you say that I am?” is best forthcoming from another question: “What’s up?” Or when translated theologically, “What’s the I AM up to in your life?” We find the living One in the midst of living.

Images exist not to be believed but to be interrogated.6

—Andy Grundberg

Don McCullin is a British photojournalist who specializes in capturing images of the downtrodden and forgotten and making these moments of forsakenness universal. McCullin is also one of the greatest war photographers of all time. He says this about the role of a professional photographer: “If you take one good picture a year for each year of your career, you are doing well.”7

If, for every year of your life, one person honestly relates that God nudged them through you, and that your nudge had kingdom significance to them, you are a master evangelist; well done! Of course, we ought always to be hoping and praying for what I call these ushering nudges. Always be closing. Even with a gentle nudge, or a God-wink nudge, always be closing in prayer and desire. But remember that every Jesus nudge, whether it leads someone to an altaring moment or not, is part of an answer to a two-thousand-year-old prayer in Matthew 9:38: a prayer Jesus prayed and taught his disciples to pray, when he asked the “Lord of the Harvest” to send out workers for the harvest. Sometimes a nudge will lead to conversion, but most often it will lead to a conversation, a confession, a connection, maybe a germination, but always a blessing.

Businesspeople who become entrepreneurs often learn the hard way that constantly chasing home runs will exhaust and bankrupt them. Good business strategists live on base hits. They are ready for a homer should it present itself but are not drawn into the delusive and elusive hunt for the home run. Evangelism is like that; too much emphasis on an evangelistic home run from a nudge is not only unlikely, but also prone to being motivated by impure and selfish motives.

Evangelists always nudge. They travel the Emmaus and Jericho Roads as often as the Damascus and Roman Roads.8 They end up praying, “God is great, God is good” as often as “The Sinner’s Prayer.”9 Their words when spoken are not so much “You are lost in sin” as “You belong to God.” Their attitude is less “Look at what you’re doing! What are you thinking?” than “Look at what God is already doing in you!” Nudgers give attendance more than they take attendance or count attendance. They less tuck people in than rustle them out of their sleeping quarters to awaken to more interesting, more humorous, more unique ways of being. Nudgers leave more tracks than tracts.

All your words were one word: Wakeup.10

—Spanish poet Antonio Machado referencing Jesus

Nudging is more about dialogue than monologue, more Facebooking than blogging. Acts of evangelism intentionally scooch and shimmy people in the direction of truth without the need for knee-bending, beat-my-back altar calls.11 Evangelists nudge the Jesus in people to sit up and take notice. Evangelists are nudgers, not shovers. Whereas evangelism has been known to violate others’ dignity,12 which I call the reproach approach,13 nudgers are not smudgers of the divine in people.

For the past century, evangelism has been built on this one question:

“If you died today, do you know without any doubt that you would wake up in heaven?”

This is supposedly an updating of the evangelism of the eighteenth-century Wesleyan revival, which was mistakenly seen to have been built around:

“Do you desire to escape from the wrath that is to come?”

For the twenty-first century, evangelism will be built on nudges that have more to do with life before death than death and the afterlife, that focus more on the love of Christ than the wrath of God, that worry less about dying than about never having lived.14 Some parts of the church have been slow to speak against the turn-burn evangelism of WOGS (Wrath of God Syndrome), which my friend Vern Hyndman calls “the bad news about the good news.” James chapter 3 is quite clear here: This should not be so. If truth be told, love has always been paramount. In the definitive Wesley hymnbook, of the 525 hymns, only 1 is about hell.15

If you came alive today, would you think you had died and gone to heaven?

If you were offered to live forever, would you want to?

If you really woke up today, could you catch up to what God was doing in your life?

Why the focus more on life than death? The basic biblical distinction is not between “mind” and “matter” or “soul” and “body” but between “spirit” and “flesh.” In one of the most helpful insights into recovering the mind of the Bible I have ever read, Cambridge theologian Nicholas Lash reminds us that when the Bible talks about living systems, it distinguishes “between things coming alive, and things crumbling into dust; between not-life, or life-gone-wrong, and life: true life, real life, God’s life and all creation’s life in God.” That’s why the metaphor of wind, or the breath of life, is so important. Only the breath of God can neutralize the closed system of death, also known as the second law of thermodynamics, with the open system of life and the theodynamics of grace.

Whether sent forth from God, breathing all creatures into being, renewing the Earth and filling it with good things; whether whispering gently to Elijah, or making “the oaks to whirl, and [stripping] the forests bare”; or breathing peace on the disciples for the forgiveness of sins—it is one wind, one spirit, which “blows where it wills and we do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” To confess God as Spirit is to tell the story of the world as something, from its beginning to ends end, given to come alive.16

Evangelists nudge people to life. Evangelists nudge people to take deep breaths. Evangelists blow breath into people. I often wonder how the literary career of French philosopher and novelist Jean-Paul Sartre might have been different if he had been nudged at a time when his faith was trying to take root. But I will let him speak for himself:

I have just related the story of a missed vocation. I needed God. He was given to me. I received Him without realizing that I was seeking Him. Failing to take root in my heart, He vegetated in me for a while then He died. Whenever anyone speaks to me about Him today, I say, with the amusement of an old beau who meets a former belle: “Fifty years ago, had it not been for that misunderstanding, that mistake, the accident that separated us, there might have been something between us.”17

Life and death are sometimes in the power of the nudge.

“Nudge evangelism” is based on the following three revolutionary notions (okay, some not so much “revolutionary” as hibernating—but when these “notions” cease logging zzz’s, they will have revolutionary consequences). We will explore these more in depth a little later. But let’s lay them out in full now:

Jesus is alive and active in our world.

Followers of Jesus “know” Jesus well enough to recognize where he is alive and moving in our day.

Evangelists nudge the world to wake up to the alive and acting Jesus and nudge others in the ways God is alive and moving (I call these nudges “small saves”).

I was late to nudging. MSN Messenger first introduced the nudge decades ago, but it was not until I entered the Twitterverse in late 2008 and Facebook in 2009, that I was introduced to the “nudge” and “poke.” The nudge has now even achieved elevated status in the leadership literature with a book by a Harvard law professor and a University of Chicago economist who argue that nudges are a form of “libertarian paternalism” designed to alter “people’s behavior in a predictable way without forbidding any options or significantly changing their economic incentives.”18 In their opinion a nudge is not coercive, but cajoling.19

Even though I hold the E. Stanley Jones Chair of Evangelism at Drew University, I waited to write up my perspectives on evangelism until I had finished two other projects on “default systems.” It’s amazing the unintended messages we send, and defaults are some of the biggest “unintended” nudges in existence. Humans tend to live on autopilot, both as persons and as communities, which is why worshippers tend to sit in the same pew, and students in the same seat.

I am reminded of the mightiness of that default setting every time I approach a toll plaza on the New Jersey turnpike. A lane’s white lines are like the strings of a corset, keeping the car in that configuration even though it would be faster and easier to turn the wheel, cross the line, and get in another lane. There may be twenty cars ahead of you in your lane, but you will sit where you are, ignoring the toll booths with only two or three cars in waiting, because of that mighty default setting.

If we don’t set the correct defaults to faith, our evangelism will be full of sound and fury, but futile. Hence my books on the default interface that connects with a Google world (the EPIC interface)20 and the default operating system that God designed for life and the church (the MRI default).21 We often forget that Satan is an evangelist too. The forces of darkness want nothing more than to recruit people to the ethics of evil and the aesthetics of hell. And the pandemics of terrorism, ritualized violence, environmental degradation, and genocide attest to the success the enemy has had in writing a powerful counternarrative. As Alfred the butler (Michael Caine) says to Batman in The Dark Knight (2008) as they struggle to understand the psychology of the Joker: “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” And judging from the seventy million people killed in the twentieth century, the bloodiest century in history, Satan may have been the most successful evangelist of the twentieth century.

Nudges are inevitable. We nudge even when we don’t know it. For example, whenever someone says “most people,” they are nudging you in the direction of conformity. And they don’t even know they are nudging you. Conformism is one of life’s (and evil’s) biggest nudges.

Evangelism as we know it hasn’t worked. Either evangelism is so aggressive you want to get a restraining order, or else evangelism is so restrained you want to call it to order. Our strategies have been spectacularly useless at best, counterproductive at worst. We have lived through an exodus, but not of the biblical kind.

God-guarantees

It’s time to fundamentally change this approach: nudge. Nudge is built on five God-guarantees:

Every person you notice, every person you brush up against, is a child of God, a Jesus-in-you noticer.

Every brush is a bush.

Every best is a blest.

Every worst is a juncture for grace.

Every noticer needs a nudge.

What does this mean?

Human beings are created in the image of God.

God is already present in that person’s life in the form of some burning bush.

The best things about that person are blessings from God.

The worst things about that person are arenas for God’s redemption.

People are hungry for encouragement and love and need help noticing the presence of the divine in their lives.

Nudge Trudge

Faith coaches and spiritual directors are God’s A Team nudgers. They make a life’s work of carefully and skillfully nudging those who trust them. And these wise and loving mentors have a saying:

Tell them: and if they can’t understand,

Show them: and if they can’t see it,

Do it to them.

There are three forms of nudges that increasingly demand more creativity

from the nudger. These forms become more intimate and loving to the

nudge as they progress.

The trudge formula for nudge evangelism is simple: Start small; scale fast; and live, Jesus, live! Nudge is encapsulated in Jesus’ first postresurrection directive: “Go quickly and tell …”22 To “go” is to move forward and do something, however modest: “Start small.” To be “quick” is to use momentum to “scale fast.” To “tell” is to lift up the name of Jesus, tell the good news that everyone has the potential to become a different kind of person, and with our ancestors, “speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen.”

A brick wall is … essentially

an aggregation of small effects.23

—Alec Clifton-Taylor

1. Start Small

Nudging is made up of small things, but it is no small thing. Small inputs can have massive consequences. It is less that “everything matters” than that small things matter everywhere. No moment is too small, no person is too small, to gently steer and move people down life paths and away from death valleys. Nudgers encourage first steps, small steps, and are open to the surprise of giant leaps forward.

One of the most distinguishing features of Jesus’ teaching was precisely in this notion that from tiny beginnings God’s reign grows. The ancient Hebrews compared God’s workings to the monstrous cedars of Lebanon and wings of eagles. Jesus loves looking at mustard seeds, grains of wheat, leftover crumbs, and barnyard hens. He invites us to look around at our fields, our gardens, our orchards, our vineyards, our backyards. Jesus is not against large but invites us to start small and do little large. “Little is much if God is in it.”24

It would be hard to overestimate the tremendous power you have to influence the direction of people’s lives, even when that person is a stranger. Anthropologist Margaret Mead famously pronounced that we should “never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world, indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”25 The world has been changed by one word here, one story there, metaphors above and over all. It is not just that “a word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.”26 A nudge here, a nudge there are like baskets of blessings that pop out just when you need them the most to give life a burst.

In the animal kingdom, the bigger the brain, the smaller the face. We big-brained people do not know our face, who we are, and how severely we have been defaced from our original divine design. In the words of William Golding, whose book Lord of the Flies (1954) was inspired by his wartime experiences, anyone who could not see that “man produces evil as a bee produces honey must have been blind or wrong in the head.”27 In small, everyday ways, evangelists nudge out of others their original human face and what God is doing to summon them to become new human beings called to renew human society. The more I discover what I am, the more miserable I get; the more I discover who God is and who God made me, the happier I become.

In the Jesus kingdom, the bigger the brain in your head, the bigger the love in your heart. And that one-pound heart, made large with love and connected to a two-pound brain, made small by humility, can challenge the world to give peace and love a fighting chance.

To be sure, there is no path through life without detours. But detours, roundabouts, and imperfections, as the incarnation’s setting straight of our sidetracked humanity makes clear, are the paths used by the Spirit to take us home.

2. Scale Fast

Once you have learned the nudge on a small scale, you can leverage and reuse attentional strategies to expand evangelism across every aspect of your life and across your connections.

You know a nudge is providential when the person being nudged already knows they need that very nudge. A nudge is only of value if there is an “aha” moment that accompanies it. Jesus never did anything the Father had not already been doing, and the very instinct to nudge is predicated by a knowledge that God had somehow prepared this very event. The most powerful nudges are those that coax someone in directions they already know they should be going. When a nudger pours fuel at the right moment to a low-grade fire already burning in the heart and mind, the combustion is explosive and the conflagration is breathtaking.

In God nothing is empty of sense … so the conviction of a

transcendental meaning in all things seeks to formulate itself.28

—Dutch historian Johan Huizinga

To the ears of faith, we are never out of the range of God’s voice: every distress a call, every surprise a service, every relationship a blessing, every phone call a connection, every hesitation or doubt a direction. We respond to each of these, trusting that our small saves will make a saving difference even if we never know how it all plays out or how it all works in God’s scheme of things. Most often we never know “the rest of the story.”

But we don’t need to. What counts in evangelism is not cognition, but recognition. Can we identify the face of Christ when he shows it to us? What is our receptiveness to the Spirit, who appears in others and in one another? Are we able to decipher the playings of the Spirit in others’ lives? That’s enough. Jesus “appeared” to the Twelve, to Cephas, and to the five hundred; and Paul says, “He appeared to me.” Has he “appeared” to you? If he “appeared” to you, would you know it? Can you apprehend his appearing?

3. Live, Jesus, Live!

Do we have any faith “to speak of ”?

There comes a time when nudging means a no-beating-about-the-bush stepping forward to meet the other and tell it like it is, or in other words, to tell who Jesus is.

I call dropping the name of Jesus the “Nudge Bomb.” Yet even when we throw the bomb, the nudger seldom throws his or her voice. While slow to speak,29 we are always to be ready to give the “reason” for our high-hope living.30 Jeremiah’s confession about the futility of holding his breath is ours: “If I say, ‘I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,’ his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary of holding it in; indeed, and I cannot.”31 Our nudges toward lives of freedom and communion and hope will require speaking the name of Jesus and inviting others to accept the liberation that comes with surrender, the communion that comes from submission.

One day a nudger asked a question of John Wesley: “Do you know Jesus Christ?” Even though Wesley was an Oxford don, a theologian, hymn writer, Christian author, and missionary to America, he realized that he really didn’t “know” Jesus Christ in all of these activities like he was being called to know him. What Wesley had been living out of was a Christian faith based more on rational defenses of the cold logic and coherence of the Apostles’ Creed or the Thirty-nine Articles rather than a personal experience of and a heart strangely warmed by the fires at the altar of Jesus the Christ.

Intimate spouses of fifty years know the nuances of their love, the snorts and grunts in sleep, what is normal and what is not. It’s what poet Galway Kinnell calls the “familiar touch of the long married.”32 Do we, after years of walking with Christ, know him and his familiar touch?

In all of our nudges, in all of our helping people see the God who is already at play in their lives, we must never forget that we ultimately do not offer others our skills, our wisdom, or our expertise. We offer others Christ and the Holy Spirit, the only powers that can create the new humanity. Or as the apostle Paul put it, “To me, to live is Christ.”33 Not acknowledging Christ when he appears is dereliction of discipleship.

As you walk down the stairs toward baggage claim at the Memphis Airport, there is a sign that greets you when you land on the ground floor. It is the motto of Graceland. The sign reads: “Discover Your Inner Elvis.” Nudgers help people discover their inner Jesus. Nudgers do that by lifting up Christ, not themselves, and trust Jesus to stir others to new life and new relationships.

Will someone mistake you for Jesus today?

Semiotics 101

For nudge evangelism to work, we must bring together two things seldom seen together: evangelism and semiotics. Since you now have some notion of what I mean by “evangelism,” let me say a word about the more unfamiliar term semiotics.

A teacher walks up to a chalkboard and writes “H2O.” H2O is an abstraction of water. You can’t drink it, be quenched by it, swim in it, or float on it. It’s a useful abstraction. Semiotics is an attempt to get our eyes off the chalkboard and into the real world. It is the art of making connections, linking disparate dots, seeing the relationships between apparently trifling matters, and turning them into metonymic moments.

Most important, semiotics is a Jesus word. In fact, Jesus instructed us to learn semiotics. It’s a direct order.

One of Jesus’ favorite sayings went something like “Red sky in morning, sailors take warning; red sky at night, sailors delight.” He then went on: “You know how to read the signs of the sky. You must also learn how to read the signs of the times.”34 The Greek word for signs is semeia (from which we get the word semiotics). We are directed by Jesus to learn how to read signs, to read “the handwriting on the wall.” God’s hand is still writing on walls today. Evangelists are people with red-sky-at-morning sensitivities.

Hence the yoking of evangelism and semiotics.

The world is ruled by signs, with money the most mastered semiotic system out there. We all do semiotics, whether we know it or not. Waiting on tables is a semiotic system, with every interaction an exchange of visual and verbal markers. At Le Peep restaurant in Peoria, Illinois, my waitress turned to her trainee and said, “See the crumpled-up napkin on his plate? That’s the universal sign of ‘I’m done.’ Take his plate away.”

Some things look easy until you try them (like juggling and jigsaws). Other things look hard until you try them (like semiotics).

Here’s an example. You’ve just purchased a new car. You drive your new car out of the dealership, and as soon as you hit the highway, something happens. The moment your rubber hits the road, something starts to happen. What is it?

You say, “Depreciation.” How true. You’ve just lost three thousand dollars, at minimum. I call the smell of a new car the most expensive cologne in the universe. Lasts about a month. You do the math: three thousand dollars divided by thirty days.… By the way, scientists now tell us that the smell of a new car is toxic.

But something else happens as well. You begin to see that car you just purchased everywhere. Am I right or what?

I don’t think people are now buying that car to copy you. Nothing has changed except one thing: Because of your investment in that car, you are now in a state of “semiotic awareness.”

And when people observe you and your car, they are also in a state of semiotic awareness whether they know it or not. In the land of semiotics, cars are driven less to get you somewhere and more to be seen and to be read. Cars are identity signals. They are signs of who we are or want to be.

We see what we choose to see, as artists have been telling us for centuries. Michelangelo is said to have remarked that he released David from the marble block he found him in. “The painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through,” confessed Jackson Pollock.35 Artists are simply people with high levels of semiotic awareness.

Most disciples of Jesus are not in a state of semiotic awareness. The church especially is not good at reading signs. Those who are preoccupied with reading signs are looking for one thing only: not signs of our times, but end-times signs, signs of the return of Christ … signs of the latter days and the end of days.

By reading the signs of the times, I am referring to the signs of the Spirit’s activity in the world. Jesus wept over Jerusalem because it could not read the signs: “You did not recognize the time of your visitation.”36 Nudgers are connectors of signs and channelers of their significance. Are you ready for signs? Are you able to read signs?

Nudge is an invitation to move beyond church-centric Christianity to a holistic, omnipresent theology of the signified reign of God. God is, Paul told the Athenians, “not far from any one of us.”37 If God can speak through a burning bush, through plagues of locust, through Balaam’s ass, through Babylon, through blood on doorposts, through Peter, through Judas, through Pilate’s jesting sign hung over the head of our Lord, and through the cross itself, then God can and will speak through art deco architecture, abstract expressionism, classic literature like Virgil’s Aeneid, ass media, disease, Disney, hunger, Twitter, etc. The question is never, “Is God using this?” Rather the question is, “What is my/our invitation upon hearing?”

God meets us everywhere, in a bewildering variety of forms and fashions. Eighteenth-century hymn writer Isaac Watts called John’s book of Revelation “the opera of the apocalypse.”38 We grow giddy over mystic numbers, signs and seals, heraldic beasts and composite beings, but what about the opera of the everyday? The ordinary and mundane? John Updike believed his only duty as a writer was “to describe reality as it had come … to give the mundane its beautiful due.”39 Updike was a brilliant semiotician.

Nudge argues for the triangulation of all three: Scripture, Culture, Spirit. But we walk a tonal tightrope: in touch with the world but in tune with the Spirit through highly pitched souls, with heightened sensitivities that connect to the Scriptures and then to the Spirit and then to the culture.

As we watch for the signs of your kingdom on earth,

we echo the song of the angels in heaven.40

—Eucharistic Prayer F, Common Worship

Why are we fascinated with the CBS network’s CSI franchise? We are transfixed by how investigators can “read” a crime scene. We read anthropologists’ works because they can “read” a culture. We read Dan Brown novels in record-bursting numbers (The Da Vinci Code, Angels and Demons, The Lost Symbol) because of the power and mystique of symbology (the Hollywood name for semiotics) and our interest in the hidden forces at work in people’s lives and in our world.

The ultimate in social as well as spiritual illiteracy is the inability to read the handwriting on the wall. There are many forms of biblical, cultural, and spiritual illiteracy that go beyond not knowing the difference between Melchizedek and Methuselah, or between Dorothy Day and Dorothy Sayers … and Doris Day, for that matter. How many people have been waiting their entire lives for a message from God when they have been staring it in the face all along? How many people are deaf to the dog-whistle voice of the divine that only they are vibed to hear?41

Life without Landlines

To get into “Len’s Lair” (aka, my study), I bend down and step up at the same time, and then pass through a small corridor to enter a totally silent room. I switch on some lights, burn some candles, and wake my computer.

Suddenly, there it is: the world. I’m connected to the far reaches of the planet. On our little island I’ve picked up signals that were there all the time. I have the world at my fingertips. All I need is the right

apparatus, the right wireless card or radio or TV or whatever) that can “connect” me with what was always there but was invisible and unavailable until the receiver was activated.

Think of semiotics as a receiver. We live in an ocean of waves—radio, cell phone, wi-fi, infrared, cosmic. These waves not only surround us; they pass through us and can even penetrate walls. These waves will continue to remain invisible unless there is a receiver that can channel them into forms we can hear and see. That “make me a channel of blessing” stuff? Semiotic awareness at its best.

This book is your wireless card to pick up the signals of transcendence, the immanent transcendent, that are out there but not being downloaded. Semiotics is the art of finding channels and making connections. Evangelism as semiotics is the art of tuning our receivers to the “I AM” channel and setting the controls to receive and transmit transdimensional frequencies. This book is your compass in a world where the magnetic lines of the earth are invisible. These magnetic lines have always been there and are not dependent on our compass. But the compass becomes our means of making visible and interpreting what we cannot see.

Marius von Senden, reviewing every published case of blind people receiving sight over a three-hundred-year period in his classic book Space and Sight (1932), concluded that every newly sighted adult sooner or later comes to a motivation crisis—and that not every patient gets through it.42 There are plenty of people out there who are “seeing but not seeing.” Or to put it another way, too many Christians are walking blind through life when they don’t have to.

Our survival, individual and cultural, depends on our ability

to read and interpret ecologically what our man-made

environments are saying to us and doing to us.43

—Eric McLuhan

Throughout Scripture God uses sign language to communicate relationship: Noah and the rainbow,44 Abraham and circumcision,45 Moses and the Passover blood posts,46 Moses and the exodus cloud/fire pillars,47 Samson and his golden locks,48 shepherds and the manger,49 Jesus and the cross, and even Pilate’s jesting billboard hung over the head of Christ on the cross was a sign.50 The same sign can be different things to different people. The Passover was freedom to the Israelites and death to the Egyptians. The sign Pilate hung over Christ’s head was irony to Pilate, blasphemous to the Jewish religious leaders, and truth to all followers of Christ. The same sign, different meanings. In fact, when Jesus turned water into wine, or fed the five thousand, or raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus didn’t think of what he was doing as a “miracle.” He thought of what he was doing as a sign.

God is still signing us. God’s finger is still writing. We may not be able to read the divine finger because we’ve got our fingers in our ears or are so fixated at the finger pointing to the moon that we can’t see beyond the fingertips. But God’s finger is busy writing in strange and sundry signs, designs, cosigns, and signals.

Everything that surrounds you can give you something.51

—Hungarian photographer André Kertész

I begin every day with what I call my “Bugs Bunny” ritual. Where Bugs Bunny chews his carrot and asks “What’s up, Doc?” I drink my coffee and ask, “What’s up, God?”

In fact, some sign readers are arguing that our very survival as a species depends on our ability to “read the signs.” Jared Diamond, in his book Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed (2004), argues that the only common denominator behind all cases of collapse is not the destruction of the environment, as serious as that is. It is not economic collapse, as universal as that is. The one elementary but elemental factor in all civilizations that collapsed into extinction is the failure to read the handwriting on the wall, the failure to respond to warning signs. Every extinct culture hurled signs high into the heavens for all to see. But every collapsing culture failed to read and heed these flares.52

The Problem Is Not with Life

Sometimes my kids come to me and complain: “Daddy, I’m bored.” I tell them, “Sorry. You aren’t bored. You’re having a semiotic breakdown.” They then run to their mother, who rolls her eyes and comforts them with “Don’t worry. Your father is just having one of his semiotic spells. He’ll get over it.”

But I’m right.53 And I’m not going to get over it. When my kids are bored, the problem is not with life. Life is full of wonderful, exciting, and adventurous things. My kids don’t have life fatigue. The problem is not with life. The problem is with them. In a state of semiotic awareness, all of life is bathed in beauty and sacredness. When they get bored, they have entered a state of semiotic breakdown. The fact that many people live boring lives, the fact that many people make so little of their lives is not life’s fault. People are in a state of semiotic breakdown.

Semiotic breakdown is the disconnect from all that is and can be from perceived possibility. Semiotic breakdown has degrees. The lightest of these is simply missing the message and doing nothing in most cases. The most serious is seeing the signs, believing they mean something, but having the wrong interpretation and setting off in a destructive path. The advice of park rangers applies here: If you’re lost, stop. Call for help. Reorient yourself. Find true north. Suicide is the ultimate state of semiotic breakdown.

The world is so full of a number of things

I am sure we should all be as happy as kings.54

—Robert Louis Stevenson

Much of the problem with the church is precisely this. The “ole ship,” as Methodist cofounder Charles Wesley liked to call it, is in a state of semiotic breakdown. The church sees mysterious hieroglyphics all around, but because it cannot read the sign language, it fails to see that these are really Hieroglyphic of holiness.

Without doing our semiotic homework, Christians can only follow trends. We can’t create them. Faith widens the imagination and lengthens the horizons. So why is church so narrow in its imagination, so short in its scope of thinking? Why is the body of Christ not bursting with creativity, but a bastion of boredom?

It is in a state of semiotic breakdown. We are as clueless as to what the Spirit is up to as the critic who dismissed the Beatles when he first heard them as “strictly routine rhythm-and-blues.”55 One of the greatest examples of semiotics in the Scriptures is the story of the wise men, who were probably not “wise men” but Eastern magicians, sorcerers, or diviners (magoi).56 In the Greek New Testament magos means most often “interpreters of dreams” or “experts in astrology.” In other words, sign readers. These “magi” had the imagination to read the signals, register the early intelligence, and risk a long journey so that they got there first. Pagan semioticians got to Jesus before the holy and righteous.

If the inability to read signs is a surefire recipe for failure and extinction, the ability to read signs is now being defined as the key ingredient to success and leadership. Harvard Business School’s Leadership Initiative has spent years developing a “Great American Business Leaders” database. The project identified and analyzed the accomplishments of some 860 top executives in the twentieth century, and the results are being made known through the writings of two leadership professors: Anthony J. Mayo, the director of the Initiative, and Nitin Nohria, the new dean of Harvard Business School. In the work titled In Their Time: The Greatest Business Leaders of the 20th Century (2005),57 the coauthors distilled tons of data into three leadership archetypes: Mold-Makers, Mold-Breakers, and Mold-Takers (i.e., the entrepreneur, the charismatic, the manager). Whatever their style or “type,” however, there was one ingredient that all shared in common: an outsized “ability to read the forces that shaped the times in which they lived … and to seize on the resulting opportunities.”58

The coauthors call this key leadership trait “contextual intelligence.” In words that appear lifted from the biblical description of the tribe of Issachar (Israel’s resident semioticians, who “knew the times” and “knew what best to do”),59 Mayo and Nohria portray the century’s best leaders as people who understood the forces that defined their eras, and as people who “adapted their enterprises to best respond to those forces.” Both “knowing the times” and “knowing what to do” are what made them leaders: “Contextual intelligence is an underappreciated but all-encompassing differentiator between

success and failure.”60

The inability to read signs helps explain a great deal about the past, the present, and the future. For example, take the rise of Nazism. How did one of the most cultured and Christianized countries in the West succumb to the appeal of Hitler? How did the very culture that brought Christian arts and philosophy to their highest and most luminous levels become responsible for some of the most heinous atrocities in history? Its lack of attentiveness.

A few read the signs: Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Alfred Delp, Martin Niemoller, Joseph Ratzinger Sr., the policeman father of Pope Benedict XVI. But by and large the Christian church in Germany was as sign blind as the cousin of Winston Churchill, Charles Stewart Henry Vane-Tempest- Stewart, 7th Marquess of Londonderry (1878–1949), who after he met Hitler called him “a kindly man with a receding chin and an impressive face.”61

Or to take one more example: The problem with the Iraq war was not so much bad military intelligence, but deficient cultural intelligence. There was very little contextual intelligence of the political, religious, and social culture of Iraq and its diverse peoples (Kurds, Sunnis). A decades-old reliance on relational intelligence was abandoned for satellites that could read license plates from space. Unfortunately, they failed to read the nuances of the population. There is also very little contextual intelligence of the mediated world in which we live. War has a very healthy future, but the future of war is inescapably global and fought not in physical space but in informational space. This is what Osama bin Laden and al Qaeda, and even the middle-class Iraqi citizen Salam Pax and his “Baghdad Blog,”62 seemed to understand better than the United States.

Whether we know it or not, we all read signs. God is also a sign reader: The bow in the clouds is God’s sign, not to us but to God to remind God that there is a promise in place never again to destroy the earth with a flood.

You do semiotics all the time. In fact, every one of you is a master semiotician. You may not know it, but you are. And I’ll prove it to you one more time.

You can’t get a driver’s license until you learn your semiotics: You learn to read the signs of the road. In fact, you are given a test on your semiotic skills at reading road signs.

You can’t balance a checkbook until you learn your semiotics: You learn to read the signs of mathematics. You learn the sign language of math.

You can’t get a job until you learn your semiotics: You learn to read the signs of a language. You learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or Japanese. You can’t read anything until you learn your semiotics.

Semiotics is the art and science of paying attention. Since evangelism is also the art and science of paying attention, I will argue that evangelism is semiotics. There is another book to be written on the prophetic role of reading the signs or semiotics.63 Nudge argues that a semiotics evangelism is more pay attention than attract attention. The best evangelists are not the attention getters, but attention givers. Yet the most attentive semiotician is hopeless if the sign is read yet misinterpreted. Our quest is to be so filled with the Spirit of God, and to be wearing interpretive Jesus goggles, that we not only notice, but are able to interpret and respond.

Paying Attention

One of the earliest admonitions in life is this: “Pay attention.” One of the hardest things in the world to do is this: “Pay attention.” Nobody attends to attention. People teach us how to think, but not how to pay attention. But paying attention changes your brain, your being, your future. According to some scholars, the root lig in the word religion means “to pay attention.” If so, from its very definition, religion helps us learn to pay attention to people and to life.

Our poets and our artists have understood this better than our theologians. Poet John Ciardi defined human identity in precisely these terms: “We are what we do with our attention.”64 I call Mary Oliver the twentieth century Thoreau. Oliver says, “This is the first, wildest, and wisest thing I know, that the so l exists, and that it is built entirely out of attentiveness.” 65 In a poem Oliver says, “I don’t know exactly what a prayer is. / I do know how to pay attention.”66 When poet Annie Dillard was asked by Life magazine “What is the meaning of life?” her response was very simple: “Pay attention so that creation need not play to an empty house.”67 “[God] asks nothing but attention,” wrote poet William Butler Yeats.68 Mexican novelist Carlos Fuentes calls “extreme attention” the number-one “creative faculty.”69 In fact, Fuentes defines love as “attention. Paying attention to the other person. Opening oneself to attention.”70 “To understand something,” Indian philosopher J. Krishnamurti has written, “you have to pay attention, you have to love, and when you love something, the very nature of love is discipline.”71

Prayer is properly not petition,

but simply an attention to God which is a form of love.72

—Iris Murdoch

Prayer is where the Christian tradition attends most often to paying attention. Sixteenth-century Spanish mystic/poet St. John of the Cross said that the heart of prayer is giving “loving attention to God” so that even “when the spiritual person cannot meditate, let him learn to be still in God, fixing his loving attention upon Him.”73 Iris Murdoch, an Irish novelist and philosopher, argued in a quote so rich it needs to be cited twice, “Prayer is properly not petition, but simply an attention to God which is a form of love.”74 In her argument that prayer needs to become less a matter of what we say and more a matter of what we hear, the French mystic and philosopher Simone Weil liked to say that “prayer is paying attention.”75 Prayer is not getting God to pay attention, but learning to pay attention ourselves to what God is doing. Semiotic praying is listening, listening to God speaking to us now.

I would want to argue with Murdoch and Weil somewhat and say that prayer is what happens when you pay attention fully, when you are at full attention, and your attention always gets God’s attention. Paying attention is a form of surrender. We are always surrendered and surrendering to something, but most of us live in the delusion we are in control. Surrender is a willingness to be open to possibilities we cannot imagine. Control suggests that if we can’t imagine it, it cannot be, and we set about to ensure it.

British novelist and Christian essayist Dorothy L. Sayers in a letter written during World War II expressed her conviction that “we have rather lost sight of the idea that Christianity is supposed to be an interpretation of the universe.”76 The church has done itself a disservice, she argued, by presenting Christianity not as a way of seeing all things but as one competing ideology among many. “Instead of leading us to see God in new and surprising places, it too often has led us to confine God inside our place.”77

There are a few in the theological world who have understood the importance of paying attention. “If I gave my attention to your handiwork, I should become your handiwork,” wrote the English theologian and biblical scholar Austin Farrer, echoing the prophetic vision of William Blake, who believed you become what you behold.78 Of anyone alive, however, British sociologist and theologian David Martin has cried the loudest and made the strongest case for the spiritual life being one of sign language. In words that led directly to the writing of this book, “I suggest we look at Christian faith as a code book for picking up signals of transcendence, and the question is how we are to pick up those signals and interpret the code?”79

But examples like these from the Christian world are exceptions that prove the rule. By and large, the Christian community has taken little notice of what it means to “take notice” and “pay heed.”

Not so for the advertising world, which has made paying attention a science. What is public relations but the business of getting noticed. Umberto Eco defines semiotics in this way: “Semiotics is in principle the

discipline studying everything that can be used in order to lie.”80

Tell someone that they can read the signs of the stock market and in that way become rich, and people will do it in a New York minute. Tell someone that they can read the signs of the Spirit and become spiritually rich, and they yawn and walk away. We are more prone to read signs of someone’s economic and social status than to read signs of the divine at play in people’s lives. We have become experts at reading surface appearances and wonder why the number of what appear to be divine disappearances increases. You cannot serve two Semeia.

But now ask the beasts, and let them teach you;

And the birds of the heavens, and let them tell you.

Or speak to the earth, and let it teach you;

And let the fish of the sea declare to you.

Who among all these does not know

That the hand of the Lord has done this,

In whose hand is the life of every living thing,

And the breath of all mankind?

—Job 12:7–10 NASB

We live in an attention-deficit culture more adept at gaining attention than at paying attention, furiously beating bushes that advance our interests while not paying attention to burning bushes that showcase God’s activities.

Joseph Nye Jr. of Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government names the “paradox of plenty” as one of the characteristic features of postmodern culture. In his words, “A plenitude of information leads to a poverty of attention.… Those who can distinguish valuable signals from white noise gain power. Editors, filters, and cue givers become more in demand, and this is a source of power for those who can tell us where to focus our attention.” 81 If the future lies with those who can help people “focus attention” and “decode secrets,”82 then the greatest days for evangelism lie in the future. In a world where everyone suffers from attention-deficit disorder, evangelists are people with “Attention Surplus Disorder.”83

Whether attention is the highest goal of education, as some have argued,84 is another conversation. But paying attention is the highest form of opening to life and to God. Unarguably the greatest gift you can give another is your attention, partly because it gets us away from our attentiongetting “myness”85 and places us in a larger attention-giving “youness” and “thereness.” To pay attention means you are no longer the center of attention. Attention givers treat signs as subjects of multisensory study. Attention getters objectify themselves as the ultimate sign.

The greatest gift we can give God is our passionate attention, which as we have seen, is but another name for prayer. God pervades the world through the Spirit, but for most of us we live in a world without regard. The writer of Hebrews even goes so far as to suggest that the key to staying faithful and on track with the Spirit is our attentiveness. “Pay more careful attention … to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away.”86 “Drift away” is a nautical phrase that beautifully conveys how easy it is for us to stray and go adrift without the focusing of attentiveness.

Our inattentiveness to the world contrasts so sharply to Jesus’ attentiveness to all of creation. Jesus was a “dawn collector”87 who found God’s Spirit in all things, in all aspects of the natural world, both animate

(birds, animals, flowers, seeds) and inanimate (pots, coins), yet showed how we can experience God’s Spirit in ways that are beyond and “beneath language.”88

The moment one gives close attention to anything, even

a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome,

indescribably magnificent world in itself.89

—Henry Miller

Psalm 19 may very well be the greatest song in the Psalter and one of the most magnificent poems in all of literature. We have no evidence of Jesus ever citing it, but both the apostle Paul and John use it to reference Jesus and his mission.90 We shall return to this profound passage and its early elaboration of the connection between voice and vision, or what I call a “sound theology.” But for now let’s pay attention to its declaration of God’s universal disclosure:

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day to day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.91

The world is not God, of course, but the incarnation goes all the way down, and the Spirit indwells all that exists. Nothing is without a witness to the divine; everything that exists praises the Creator. If

Christians are not the best at giving voice through art, poetry, and music to these unspoken voices, then something is wrong. We are living ADD lives.

Poet/critic Paul Mariani says it is our lack of imagination that has closed us to an awareness of God in the world.

If the incarnation has indeed occurred, as I believe it has, then the evidence of that central act in human history—when the creator took on our limitations with our bones and flesh—should have consequences that are reverberating down to our own moment—evidence of God’s immanent presence ought to be capable of breaking in on us each day the way air and light and sound do if only we know of what to look and listen for.92

This is part of our humanness: Homo sapiens are literally human knowers. And what are we to “know”? Know God, know each other, and know life. Since the days of cave dwellers, people have buried their

dead with what they would need in the afterlife. We have always known instinctively that there is more. Enter into a relationship with a poem, a painting, a musical composition, a sunrise, a snowflake, a flower—know skunk cabbages in January, crocuses in February, cymbidiums in March, harebells in April, poppies in May, irises in June, cowslips in July, pansies in August, marigolds in September, toadlilies in October, mums in November, dahlias in December. God’s creation is a revelation of divine presence. This is the genius of Christian theology: It radically reconfigures the human conception of the sacred. Nothing is inherently “profane.” It may be profaned by sin; but it is inherently an arena of divine activity and spiritual insight. The locus and focus of biblical theology is the world, not the heavens.

What is the grass?

I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,

A scented gift and remembrance designedly dropt,

Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners,

that we may see and remark, and say Whose?93

—Walt Whitman (1855)

Jesus expressed an earthy, semiotic theology by materializing his message through various media, including images, stories, actions (stilled storms, healed limbs), and objects like spit, fig trees, bursting baskets, etc. He was a master semiotician. You might even say that Jesus’ ministry was more a semiotics ministry than a preaching, teaching, or healing ministry. Instead of taking stands, Jesus took hikes during which he performed signs: like the coin with Caesar’s image stamped on it, or the overturned money

changers’ tables, or the water-into-wine at small-town Cana of Galilee. Significantly, Jesus’ “first sign” interceded not to sober up the party, but to make it more festive with 600 to 900 bonus bottles of vintage wine. Jesus’ public entry into Jerusalem was a masterful use of signs: a donkey, not a dressed-up horse, as you would expect of a king. The ultimate sign that reveals Jesus as the life-giving Sign? The raising of Lazarus.94

Jesus’ first postresurrection sermon is a sign. Jews raised their right hand to greet one another. The left hand was the dirty hand, the right the clean hand. When raised as a gesture of greeting, it showed that one was not carrying a weapon. Jesus greets his disciples with his right hand. To be sure, he has to walk through walls to get to them. But when he does, he raises his hands and reveals his real weapons: his wounds.

Jesus warns not to become dependent on these signs and rebukes those who get addicted to the signs.95 If you followed Jesus because of the signs he performed, that wasn’t all bad. But you had to move to something deeper. The ultimate sign was not a performing Messiah, but a participating people in the Messiah’s death and resurrection.96 The only sign that matters is a participation in the cross and resurrection. And those who follow Jesus without signs are more “blessed” than those who need the signs.97 Fix our eyes on God, the starter and finisher of our faith.98

“What do you mean?” they asked composer Robert Schumann. “I mean this,” he answered and played the piece again. “What do you mean?” they asked Jesus. “I mean this,” he replied; and he took the bread, gave thanks, broke it into fragments, and shared those broken pieces with his disciples. And that piece, and those broken pieces, have been shared in every conceivable setting and played in every known language ever since.

Faith is the gift of reading the signs of the presence of God. The point of reading signs is not the signs themselves, but the Signifier, Jesus the Christ. Jesus is not some floating signifier at the whim of our advertising campaigns or some magnetic personality. Jesus is the ultimate Sign (Semeion—note the

singular)99 of God. The church is a sign of the revelation that Christ is and was. Or as Karl Barth puts it, “The church exists … to set up in the world a new sign which is radically dissimilar to the world’s own manner and which contradicts it in a way that is full of promise.”100 That is why the church will always be a sign that will be opposed.101 But as with all good signs, the church points away from itself and toward the triune God. Its message is not “Come to church” but “Come to Christ.”102

Nudge evangelism, or spreading the evangelion (“good news”), is announcing the good sign. I like how Bill Hull puts it: “If I am driving from Seattle to Los Angeles and see a sign that reads, ‘Los Angeles, 400 miles,’ I don’t pull over and sit under the sign. The sign points me to my goal. Signs of God’s manifest presence point me to Christ.”103

Walk with thy fellow-creatures: note the hush

And whispers amongst them. There’s not a spring,

Or leafe but hath his morning hymn. Each bush

And oak knows I am. Canst thou not sing?

…

Birds, beasts, all things

Adore him in their kinds.

Thus all is hurl’d

In sacred hymnes and order, the great chime

And symphony of nature.104

—Henry Vaughan

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

God posts all sorts of billboards and signposts on life’s highway. Human circumstances have divine meaning. This book is designed to help you pay attention to the variety of signs and signals God gives us about what God’s up to and what’s up ahead.

The concept of paying attention is related to the ancient notion of respect, which comes from the Latin respicere, meaning “take account” or “pay attention.” Key to this understanding of respect, however, is a form of observing that implies honoring. In the Latin meaning of respect, by paying attention, you value and honor what you are observing. When we don’t pay attention to what God is doing, we dishonor and devalue him. In everything we do, whether it be reading the Word, hiking in the woods, watching a movie, viewing a painting, we respect God when we ask ourselves this question: “What is God’s invitation here?” By not paying attention to life, we pay God no respect.

When we see all things in God, and refer all things to Him, we

read in common matters superior expressions of meaning.105

—Philosopher William James

That makes Christian semiotics more than awareness or attentiveness, however. That’s Zen semiotics. Christian semiotics enters into the connections between signs and people and God. In other words,

Christian semiotics is attention that leads to intention, attention that leads to transformation and remembrance. An attention that leads to remembrance is called a sacrament. The most sacred signs are called sacraments, and sacraments work through what they say; they impact what they symbolize. Sacraments are celebrations of our attentiveness and sign reading.106 The more attentive you are, the more you will recover as well as discover. The more attentive you are, the more you see Christ in every person and the sacramental nature of all of life.

The practice of evangelism is, in many ways, life itself—being a true human being. It is to pay attention to life and to God. Evangelism is sensational: helping people hear, see, taste, smell, and touch the creativity of God in their lives and the necessity of their response to God’s initiatives. Nudge evangelism is the decipherment of the workings of the Spirit in people’s lives and nudging them in those directions. Evangelism is bringing people into contact with Jesus, who is already there.

In Grandfather’s mind, there could be no separation between

awareness and tracking for they were one in the same thing.107

—Tom Brown Jr., Grandfather (1993)

One of the best-loved stories about Emily Dickinson, perhaps everyone’s favorite nineteenth-century poet, is the time her father rushed to ring the fire bell during dinnertime. The people of the village came running out of their homes, hugging napkins and silverware. “Where’s the fire?” everyone wanted to know.

Emily Dickinson’s father announced there was no fire. Just a beautiful sunset he didn’t want anyone to miss. Hence he rang the bell before it was too late and the sun went down.

The villagers returned to their dining tables, shaking their heads at “that crazy Dickinson man.”108 But should we all not be ringing bells at the beauty of creation? When’s the last time you rang the bell for burning bushes?

The church used to ring bells to call the community together and to announce the beauty of worship about to take place. Now we’re in the bells and whistles business. I shall never forget the first time I attended a Roman Catholic Mass and heard the sanctus bell ring during the “Holy, Holy, Holy” and the sacring bell rung three times at the elevation of the host. I came home and asked my mother what all that bell ringing was about.

She said, “It’s to tell you ‘Christ is alive,’ alive in the bread and wine.”

“But why a bell?” I persisted. Her reason for the bell scared me at the same time it sparked my imagination. As a liturgical explanation it turned out not to be accurate, but it turned me into a lifelong bell ringer. In olden times, she explained, they used to bury people with strings attached to bells above ground, so that if perchance they buried you alive, you could ring the bell when you woke up. When people above ground heard the bell ringing, they would know “He’s alive!” and immediately dig you out. My mother claimed that her grandmother knew someone who had been “saved by the bell.”

Evangelists are bell ringers. We spend our lives digging people out of self-dug graves and ringing bells that say, “Christ is alive; Jesus is real; God’s Spirit is active in your life.” To people buried alive, trapped in tombs and wrapped in grave cloths, we speak Jesus’ words to Lazarus: “Come out.” Even those who are walking zombies can learn to pay attention to God’s presence and movement. An old Methodist hymn says, “I can hear my Savior calling,” and our response is, “Where He leads me I will follow, I’ll go with Him, with Him all the way.”

I have freed a thousand slaves, but I could have freed a

thousand more if they knew they were slaves.109

—Underground railroader Harriet Tubman

At our home on Orcas Island, we like to feed the birds and hummers. This also attracts other less desirable wildlife like squirrels, ferrets, otters, and mice. But you can’t have one without the other. We also like to leave our doors to the deck open, which means that more than a couple of times a summer a bird or hummer will get trapped inside the house.

When this happens, the whole family mobilizes into action, for we know that if we don’t “help” it escape, it will die inside the house, and everyone knows this from personal discoveries of shriveled-up corpses found months later in the most unlikely of places. As soon as the bird or hummer sees one of us approach it, it will fly as fast as it can in the opposite direction, often smashing against a window or upending one of the colorful tumblers that attracted it inside in the first place. So another family member darts in that direction, nudging it from its place of hiding, only to have it fly even harder and faster to another part of the room, refusing to believe that it can’t escape on its own. But wherever it flees, one of us will be there to nudge it toward the open door.

It is not usually until the poor little bird is so exhausted from trying to escape and its body is so crushed and beaten from its fear of our nudges that it can be guided to freedom or cupped in our hands and released. For some birds liberation takes only a few nudges. For other birds more self-reliant or stubborn, it may take an hour and dozens of nudges.

Never once has one of these freed creatures U-turned in flight and bounded back to say thanks. But the Sweet family always feels pride and joy when we work together to nudge a trapped and doomed bird finally toward life and food. Without our lifting that creature in our arms through prodding and nudging and poking and holding, it would have remained trapped and helpless, its fears sentencing itself to death.

Conclusion

Jesus said that our hearts follow whatever we “treasure” or pay attention to.110 In fact, “Pay attention” may have been Jesus’ signature phrase. Every speaker has pet phrases that they use over and over again. Sometimes these phrases are fillers, giving the speaker time to organize what comes next; sometimes these phrases are feeders, pumping new energy and punctuation into the speech; sometimes they become verbal tics … you know? … you know what I mean?

Paul’s signature phrase was “Now!” Jesus’ signature phrase was something that no one really knows how to translate. The King James Version renders it “Verily, verily, I say unto thee!” The NIV translates it “I tell you the truth.” I really like that, because wherever Jesus went, there was truth. We cannot always give “the whole truth,” and sometimes “nothing but the truth” is unkind, but we can always tell “the truth.” Some contend that the most authentic twenty-first-century equivalent would be “Listen up!” I argue that today’s version would be this: “Pay attention.”

I have circled in my Bible every time Jesus says this phrase in the Gospels, and virtually every page is strewn with circles, sometimes five or six. It’s almost as if Jesus couldn’t tell a story or start a saying without reminding his hearers: “Pay attention.”

You are what you pay attention to. No attention, no life. Everything comes to life when you pay attention to it. In a world of inattentiveness, a world that goes largely unregarded, it is the special mission given to humans to bring the world to life. How do we save the world? How do we keep the

world alive? Through loving attention … by “tending and tilling,” naming and cherishing the tiniest part of what God has created.

I know that nothing has ever been real

Without my beholding it.

All becoming has needed me.

My looking ripens things

And they come toward me, to meet and be met.111

—Rainer Rilke

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Keep me runnin'

2010-08-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I was challenged..albeit indirectly...to run every day for at least 51 days. My goal is to run every day for 52 days because I'm not a quitter and I play to win. My friend ran every day for 51 days, I'll run for 52 days. And who knows, maybe I'll keep running.

I am almost 3 weeks into my running challenge. It sounds better to say "three weeks" than merely almost 21 days. My 21st day will be August 23rd and as it is now August 19th, I'm close. So close I can smell it...almost. I'm not sure why the 3 week mark means so much, maybe because people have long touted "It only takes 21 days to make a habit!" and once I have the run-every-day-habit I'll never quit. Until of course it gets too cold and dark to run at 6am.

Yes I am that crazy. I run at 6. In. The. Morning.

Today after my run I flopped on the hardwood floor...gingerly of course. And almost slipped into a deep coma. Had Alex, the cat, not climbed on me, I very well would have been completely comatose. As comfortable as the floor is, my bed is so much more so I moved there thinking to just nap for half an hour, an hour at the most.

Three hours later I wake up. Guess I was a little more sleepy than I thought. And so much for the whole "to have energy you have spend energy" theory.

Rice anyone?

2010-08-17T12:35:00.000-07:00

I used to be a spender or as Dave Ramsey says " a free spirit". I'm still a free spirit just not when it refers to money. Now when it comes to spending money, I break out in hives, I find it hard to breathe, I have the whole fight or flight thing going on.

Which is good when I'm wanting to buy something like say a refrigerator. Not so much when I need to by groceries. Especially when I'd already rather have my fingernails ripped out than go to the grocery store.

Since, however, my family seems to be in the habit of eating at least three times a day, I have to go to the store. My favorite grocery store recently closed and left me feeling rather bereft. There are, of course, other grocery stores but I didn't shop at those stores for a reason. I did start shopping at one of them though, out of necessity, but it truly the "lesser of the evils" in my mind.

Then I had the brilliant idea to try Sams or Costco. Apparently Costco has never heard of the middle of the country, so Costco is out. Obviously they also have no idea my deep dislike for all things Wal Mart.

Last weekend we went to Sams in a nearby town. I planned on spending a bit more than I normally do for a two-week supply of food in hopes I would find that I save money buying in bulk. Something I knew intellectually but I wasn't sure in practice. I just wasn't sure how it would work to buy a month's worth of groceries with half a month's money.

It worked. Kind of. There are just a few things like fruit that I'll need but otherwise I should be good to go. My sister in law went with me and conned me into buying 25 pounds of rice.

Twenty-five pounds of rice.

That's a lot of rice. It is to be exact 104 cups, or 52 2 cup bags. Forty-eight of which are in my freezer. I should be set for a year. I figure I can make a dish with rice once a week and never have to buy more rice until next August.

Of course I might need "52 Ways to Cook Rice" because while my family loves the Dave Ramsey Special, they informed me they don't like it that much.

Please, if you have any great rice recipes, share them with me!!

Virginia Reads

Unconditional {Book Review}

60 Minute Money Workout by Ellie Kay

The Walk by Shaun Alexander {Review}

Baby Bible Christmas Story Book {Review}

Joy To The World {Book Review}

Everything Christmas {Book Review}

Catching MoonDrops {Review}

Lady In Waiting {REview}

Eat This and Live! For Kids (Review)

Money Saving Tips Part 1

The Food Cure

I'm having a problem.

Checking stats

Homemaker's Challenge!

Picture Post!!!!!!

What Dave Ramsey Did for Me.

COFFEE!!!

For Beth Moore.

Mourning into Dancing

My day...thus far.

GO MAD Monday

A weighty issue

I would like to take the time to say...

Contentment vs. Complacency

I love love to save money!!!

Waiting for God

GO MAD Monday

WAHOOZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Oh brother

Go M.A.D Monday

Motivationally challenged.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

It is time

Go MAD

Miraclous

100th Post to say:

No joke.

One of *those* mornings

Tar-Jei

Pray Big

Abraham

A wise Giveaway

Mabel and Abigail.

Something new.

I just found this...

IF

If you give a woman who likes to remodel and decorate a new kitchen faucet, she'll notice the sink looks even worse than before.

Darn Allergies~

Sometimes we all need a Nudge

Keep me runnin'

Rice anyone?

One of those mornings