Conversations with a Stranger

I'm Back

2010-02-02T16:02:00.001-06:00

Due to several circumstances, I have not blogged in a few months. I'm excited to be back. More to come!

Shadow Truth: The Ultimate Deception

2010-01-07T08:41:00.004-06:00

Shadow Truth is a frank depiction of societal and political evolution. Everywhere we look, we find customs, laws, policies and other conditions that cause us scratch our heads and ask, “How did we as a society get to where we are now?”

All one has to do, is open the morning paper or listen to the news on any given day. The headlines are filled with events that just don’t seem right. Long standing traditions, laws and policies are falling to the wayside like autumn tree leaves. Political Correctness has become a worthy goal of our rapidly evolving society.

Instead of wishing a person, “Merry Christmas,” we are now being indoctrinated to offer a more politically-correct, “Happy Holidays.” Prayer and Bible reading on school property is becoming taboo. Prayer at public gatherings can no longer include references to Jesus Christ. Lawsuits are being filed regarding the phrase, “Under God” in our Pledge of Allegiance because such words violate children’s rights to be free from a coercive requirement to affirm God. “Separation of Church and State” has become a never-ending issue of contention.

It seems that without warning, we as a society came to celebrate lifestyles that we once considered to be very wrong. Today, homosexuality is honored and promoted. We see headlines about step-parents losing their rights to nurture children in their care because of their refusal to indoctrinate the children into the pro-homosexuality lifestyle. We hear on the news that some of our schools are now providing birth control to eleven year olds without parental knowledge or consent. Respect for life is losing favor among the people. Abortion and euthanasia are now considered to be an individual’s choice.

Much of the world has embraced the concept of Socialism. Surprisingly, the United States appears to be chomping at the bit to travel down that same road. Every day it seems that our society is increasingly creating an environment that encourages people not to work. The desire to excel is being eliminated from our schools. Playground activities that result in winners and losers are being curtailed. Valedictorian honors that go to just one student are now considered as unhealthy competition. Entitlement seems to be the new philosophy of society. Young mothers are encouraged to stay single so that they can be paid to have children. The concept of re-distribution of wealth is rapidly gaining support. The Global Warming agenda is causing the world to re-examine the “benefits” of Globalism and One World Government.

We have been seduced into falling for the most cunning deception known to man. We got to where we are through a seemingly logical progression of societal change. This change is being brought about through a particular development of policies and beliefs. There is a common thread of deceit passing through seemingly unrelated issues affecting our society today. This thread of deceit is called Shadow Truth. Our great land is now locked in the firm grip of Shadow Truth Deception. How is it that so many people in our society are falling for, and accepting such obviously wrong policies? How is it that we find ourselves obligated to comply with, and be subjected to such policies? How is it that we can be threatened by lawsuits if we refuse to comply with some of Shadow Truth’s newly implemented policies? How can these deceptive things be accepted by the mainstream of today’s society without so much as a whimper? How is it that we can wake up and realize that we have completely lost control of the world we live in? Are we so blind that we can allow this to happen to us?

Read Shadow Truth: The Ultimate Deception, and discover the common thread of deceit traversing the seemingly unrelated evolutionary changes that are occurring every day before our very eyes.

To Order: Go to http://www.tatebook.com/ or order directly from Amazon by going to: http://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Truth-Larry-Tate/dp/0881440124/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261958242&sr=1-1

Forgetting What Is Important

2009-06-08T15:43:00.002-05:00

In my morning devotion, I read the following story:

"Eager patrons surrounded the music hall as the hour for the concert arrived. A married couple was observed coming through the lobby. The husband turned to his wife and said, 'Oh, darling, I do wish our piano were here!' She looke at him nonplused and asked, 'Why would you want our piano here?' He replied, 'Because our tickets are on it.'

My mind then went to Psalm 59:11: Lest my people forget...

Do you realize that we are so blessed by our precious Lord in so many ways, the main thing ofcourse is our eternal salvation. Most of us have reasonable health, jobs that provide needed income, a house, friends, adequate food, vehicles to take us here and there, a great nation with all its liberties--all benefits that millions of people have never had.

And yet we so often complain. Or we envy our neighbors who appear to have even more. Envy, spurred by present-day advertising in various media, often causes us to want more and more, such as a bigger house (or a second one), a fancier car, custom clothes, or whatever. For the most part, we have everything we want for a happy and productive life. We should get down on our knees before God everytime we utter a complaint and beg his forgiveness. The Psalmist called upon us to bless the Lord, not forgetting all the good things He has done in our lives.

I suppose forgetting concert tickets left home on the piano would be an embarrassmet or inconvenience. But nagging God because we want more is a sin. The apostle Paul wrote about being content. May we all be so savvy!

In All Kinds Of Weather

2009-05-11T11:20:00.003-05:00

"Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Matthew 28:20

Our Lord is present with us no matter what each day brings. It may be a day of joy or of sadness, of sickness or of health, of success or of failure. No matter what happens to us today, our Lord is walking beside us, strengthening us, loving us, filling us with faith, hope and love. As He envelops us with quiet serenity and security our foes, fears, affictions, and doubts begin to recede.

My father is one of those that does not function well when it's raining and cloudy outside. For over two weeks, the sun has not shown much. I'm sure he needs to be on medication, but refuses to see a doctor regarding his depression. He believes that people who are strong in their faith should not need medication for their nerves.

Then last week, I heard someone say that they have heard that God has healed someone, but it was hard to believe when they never receive their healing.

So...my question is: Why does God heal some and then leave others to suffer with their afflictions? Why would a preacher have nerve problems when he knows that God is his Healer? Why does one person still have cancer when they have prayed for their healing? Why does a child go down the wrong road when their mother has prayed over them for years?

I am getting ready to have my 14th surgery and sometimes I wonder if God is looking down on me. But, Matthew 28:20 say "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." Matthew 28:20

I'm so thankful that God is my best friend and He walks with me daily. Even when I am in pain, I know He is there to give me strength & courage to face tomorrow. So...when you are down and out, remember God is with you all the time!

Snake In Your House?

2009-04-27T11:53:00.003-05:00

Last night, I was working on my computer and out of the corner of my eye I noticed our dog jumping around and acting strange. When I looked up, there was a snake lying under our recliner in the family room. My first response was to yell at the dog and then at my husband. I knew that Larry could solve the problem! Then my thoughts went to: What if I'd been home alone? What if he'd bit my dog? What if I had stepped on it? Wow! Feal immediately came over me.

Even tho the snake was escorted out the door and into the field next door. I could not keep looking over at the chair and expecting to see another snake. Fear is such a terrible thing.

How many times have we let minor things turn our emotions and thoughts into fear? Fear is a tool the devil has over us. If he can get us to fear, he has our mind turned away from God. There is a quote that goes like "wat do we have to fear, except fear itself."

Fear makes us think our sicknesses can be worse than they are. Fear makes our financial situations look worse. Fear makes us worry over situations before they even become a problem.

Does not the Bible say?

The LORD is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear? (Psalm 27:1)

When I am afraid, I will trust in you. (Psalm 56:3)

You of little faith, why are you so afraid? (Matthew 8:26)

Don't be afraid; just believe. (Mark 5:36)

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. (Isaiah 12:2)

So..today I command all fear to leave. I do trust in God and I know He is in control of everything that pertains to me. I know He is watching over my husband, our business, our children & our grandchildren. I know that He is God!

Dealing With Pain

2009-04-06T19:28:00.004-05:00

To those that follow my blog, you already know that I have not been blogging much. I think everyone that has a blog has times when they are "blogless". By that, I mean you just don't feel like telling the world what is going on in your life. Or, you just have "bloggers block".

My problem has been pain. May of 2008, I started having pain in my left leg. I went to my doctor who put me on muscle relaxers. She said to come back in a month. The muscle relaxers did not help. I went back to doctor and she referred me to a Rheumatologist. It took a month to get into the Rheumatolgist and when I did get in, he looked at me like "what are you doing here?" He decided to run blood tests and requested that I come back in a month. I waited a month, went back and he said everything looked good. Referred me to an Orthopedic doctor.

Of course, it took another month before the Orthopedic doctor had an opening. It was September, 2008. I explained all of my symptoms to the doctor. He decided to do a MRI (another two week wait). I followed up with the doctor to find out the results of MRI and he thought I have a bad knee, as well as a bad back. He gives me an injection in the knee and says to come back in a month.

A month passes, the pain was gettin worse. I see the doctor again and he refers me to another doctor in the same building. Another two week wait. It is now November, 2008.

I see a back doctor and he agrees it is my back and sets up a time for an injection. The injection was scheduled for November 22, 2008. Got the injection and pain was a little less, but still there.

I saw the doctor again in December. He sets up another injection on December 28, 2009. Pain still presisted. I saw the doctor again in January and he refers me to Physical Therapy. I do home therapy and then see the doctor again in March. I was then set up for another injection on March 20th. Absolutely no relief!

Now, I've been referred to a Chiropractor and he told me that I need to take treatments for one month and if I'm not better than we will have to schedule surgery.

Wow - It is been 9 months of pain. To those that have dealt with chronic pain you know how it can work on your nerves. Every step I talk is extreme pain. If I turn my back a certain way, the pain is more than I can bear.

On the way home from the Chiropractor today, I was driving and ran a man off the road. I heard him honk and looked in my rear view mirrow as he went off the road. I instantly pulled over and as he walked to my car I could see that he was mad. I opened my door and he saw that I was crying. I explained that I did not see him & I don't even remember looking to see if I could pull over. I told him that I was in pain and it was all my fault. I asked if his car was hurt and he said no. He asked if I was ok and then said no harm was done. He helped me back in my car and asked if I was able to drive. I said yes, and he wished me well and I left.

I really belive God's angels were with me today protecting me and the man I ran off the road. I knew I should not be driving, but what can you do when you have appointments that are supposed to make you feel better?

The whole point of this blog is to point out that if you are in pain, think twice before you get behind the wheel. Your reactions are not as good as they are when you're feeling well. I'm even sure this blog is rambling...lol Could it be the pain medication?

Hopefully, the next blog wll be more interesting. Blessings!

The Miracle of Birth

2009-03-28T18:03:00.006-05:00

Words cannot express how proud we are of our new grandson. It is so amazing how much you love them the first time you lay eyes on them. It's an instant love & you know instantly that there is nothing you wouldn't do to protect them.

If you've seen the face of a newborn, I'm sure you are like me in the fact that I cannot figure out how anyone could not believe in God. Everything is perfect the minute the child is born. Ear lobes, eye lids, fingers, toes, etc. Just perfect! A miracle! Just to think this child totally depended on his mother while in the womb, but the minute it takes it's first breath it is able to survive without his mother. Yes, it does need an adult to take care of it...but it is living on it's own effort.

In saying all of this, we are so proud of Ryder Phillip Verspaget. Born March 26, 2009, 6 lbs 6 oz, 18 3/4" long. Thanks to everyone who prayed for a safe delivery & a healthy baby. God is so good!

Where Have You Been?

2009-03-20T15:30:00.003-05:00

I was told a joke the other day. It goes like this.....

"Did you hear about the twenty-dollar bill and the one-dollar bill talking to one another? They were telling each other where they had been.

The twenty said he had just been on a whirlwind trip. He had been to the casinos and to the movies. He had been to a baseball game and purchased hotdogs and sodas. He had been passed on to the lottery and then to a drug dealer. His life was full of extravagant travel.

The one-dollar bill responded saying his life was boring. All he had done was travel from one church to another and another."

What a sad story!

I am amazed at how much we spend on luxury items, travel, clothing, etc. Then I think how much have we given God? If we truly love God and believe He is in control of our life, shouldn't our giving be something we want to do? Shouldn't it be more important than vacations? Our purpose on earth is to win the lost. If we do not support our church and missionaires we are not doing our part. My prayer today is "Lord, give me a giving heart."

Baby Verspaget

2009-03-20T15:30:00.001-05:00

Just a note to let everyone know that our 3rd grandson will be born in 6 days. It seems like the 9 month have flown by. I know it must seem an eterity for our daughter tho.

I remember being pregnant with our children (many yeas ago) and the pregnancy seemed to last forever. But isn't it amazing how you forget all the pain and hours of lost sleeping when you see that little one's face.

We are praying for a healthy baby & a safe delivery. God you are so good!

The Journey

2009-03-20T15:29:00.000-05:00

We are happy to announce that “The Journey: Searching for the Promised Land” is now available at Amazon.

We have all heard the story of the Exodus. But, do we really know what the Exodus story is about?

The Journey is not a story about Moses. It is not a story about a people’s journey through the wilderness to their promised land.

Read The Journey and understand it in the way God wanted you to know it: a story about you and about me; and the problems we face everyday.

The Journey is about your unpaid bills. It is about your struggling business. It is about the pay raise you’ve been wanting. It is about the difficulties you have been having with your family. After reading The Journey you may find yourself with a different viewpoint on life.

Order your copy now at: www.amazon.com/Journey-Larry-J-Tate/dp/0881443654/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1236812312&sr=8-1

Blessings,
Larry & Ginger Tate

Thanks For Your Wonderful Comments

2009-03-12T08:36:00.002-05:00

Thank you to all my readers. Here are a few of the comments you've left:

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Baby Verspaget

2009-03-05T21:04:00.003-06:00

Great news! Our third grandson will be born on March 26th, 2009 in Frisco, Texas. Please pray with us that the baby will be healthy and our daughter, Kristy, will have a safe delivery. Pictures will be posted as soon as he (they haven't decided on a name yet) is born.

What's Love Got To Do With It

2009-03-04T13:19:00.000-06:00

Love...What this word means to me is commitment.

Love is not a "feeling". Love is an "action". It is a "choice".

When my husband and I got married 37 years ago, we thought we were "in-love". We did not have a clue. Love came with time, trials, victories and commitment.

The same goes for our relationship with God. When I was saved at the age of 10, I thought I was "in-love" with God. That love then in no way compares to the love I have for God today. If we love someone we are willing to do whatever it takes. We must love without restrictions. I love my children and my husband and I am willing to stand by them no matter what. But my love for God is so much more....I am willing to do whatever he would ask me to do.

Love is the ultimate sacrifice. "For God so loved the world....."

Christian Glitter by www.christianglitter.com

Love Is The Power Charge

2009-02-14T02:01:00.001-06:00

My husband and I decided to take the weekend and get away. We made reservations at a hotel approximately 150 miles (Oklahoma City) from our home and hit the road. We arrived at our hotel around 3 pm yesterday, checked into our room, drove by the Asian District, and Stockyard City. We ate dinner went to a movie, and then back to our room. A perfect day!

When we got to the room, I realized we had left the chargers for our cell phones. You have to realize, I'm one of those people who has packing down to an art. Something so simple, frustrated me so much. Everytime I woke up during the night, I would think about our cell phones sitting on the cabinet and losing power. Stupid right? I agree! But it was something I could not get off my mind.

That next morning before we went down for breakfast, I was thinking about the chargers again. When all of a sudden, my mind started thinking about the relationships with our spouses, our parents, our children, our friends, etc. None of those relationships are worth anything if there is not love between you. Then I thought...wow - Love is the power charge.

I know this year, 2009, I want to see the incredible power of God released through my life. But it just doesn't 'happen'. You have to start putting the love command in action. Start loving those around you.

If you have strife in your heart and you're not living by the love commandment of Jesus, spiritual things are foolishness to you. When you're in that condition, the Name of Jesus won't work. Faith won't work, and none of the gifts of the Spirit will work because the Bible says they all work through love.

Love is the power change. God's power package just won't work without it!

John 15:12-13

You Are Not Forgotten

2009-02-12T09:14:00.000-06:00

On the news this morning was a story about Britain's oldest man when he turned 111. On his birthday, a vintage aircraft did a fly-over and the Band of the Royal Marines played "Happy Birthday." This man's name was Henry Allingham. Henry was amazed by all of the attention. Until six years earlier, he had for 86 years keep secret the horrific memories of what happened in the trenches of World War I. Only when tracked down by the World War I Veteran's Association did this old man, who had been shelled, bombed, and shot, receive honor for what he had endured in behalf of his country.

I thought about the Bible and remembered stories of men who fought in battles and often ended up wounded, imprisoned, and even killed as a result of their service. But Jesus reminds us that everything and anything we have done in faith and love will one day be honored by God. (Hebrews 6:10)

Are you discouraged today? Do you feel insignificant? Do you feel forgotten after trying to serve God? Be assured that God will not forget anything you have done in your service to Him or others. Remember "God remembers the good we forget".

Deep In the Dish of Texas

2009-02-11T16:29:00.003-06:00

If you have not checked out the blog "Deep In The Dish Of Texas" take time to check it out. http://www.cookingntexas.blogspot.com.

What is one food that I refuse to try?
Oysters

What is the one food that I like to eat, but won't make?
Onion Rings

What is the farthest I've traveled for a meal?
20 miles

What is the most creative/exotic meal I've ever made?
Mexican

What is the scariest (i.e. hole in the wall) place you've eaten at?
Hank's Hamburgers

To participate in this fun project go to:
deep in the dish of texas: tuesday take 5 -- week #2

Fairies In Your Room

2009-02-06T08:15:00.000-06:00

Our grandson, who is now six, has lost his third tooth. When the first one fell out, his mom said they could put it under his pillow and the Tooth Fairy would come, take the tooth, and leave him money. At that time, he said he wanted to wait until he had two to put under the pillow.

When he lost his second tooth, his mom said that it was time to put it under his pillow so that the Tooth Fairy could come, take the teeth, and leave him money. Joey then said, he wanted to wait until he had three to put under his pillow.

Now, he has lost his third tooth. His mom told him that they had to put it under his pillow because the Tooth Fairy would only pay for three teeth at a time. Sitting in his bed, very quietly he said..."I don't want any Fairy in my room when I'm asleep."

So, the truth has come out. He is scared of the Tooth Fairy. She explained that God was in his room every night while he was asleep and he, Joey, could not see him. It was the same with the Tooth Fairy. She would come, take the teeth, leave money, and not bother him at all.

Joey teared up and said "Mom, God loves me and it's ok that he is in my room at night...but I don't want a fairy coming." So, they now have three teeth kept in a small box in the toy room.

I thought how sweet that he knew that God was there with him. There was no fear about God coming and going out of his room. He knew he was safe!

As Christians, I wonder how often we stop and think about God being with us. While we are doing our devotions, we are thinking about Him. But when we are cleaning our homes, driving our cars, working our jobs, do we stop and think "God is here".

My prayer today is to mediate on Him all day. I am so thankful that I do serve a God that is always near. He is our protector, our healer, our saviour. What else could we ever need? We have God in our room!

Reaching Up To Heaven!

2009-02-06T08:13:00.000-06:00

At the store the other day, I noticed a small child with both hands raised up to his mom wanting to be picked up. I thought at that time...how sweet!

The next morning, I was doing my morning devotion when I received an e-mail about a friend who had fell and broke her hip. This fall only coming after a couple of months after her husband passed away.

Then, I received another e-mail from a friend who told me about a childhood friend we both knew had passed away. Only two months after she had lost her daughter due to a car wreck. My heart went out to the husband/father.

Then, I had the opporunity to read the book "Parting Waters", by Jeanne Damoff. It was a true story about how their son had drowned, brought back to life by CPR, and told he would never walk, talk, or eat again.

As I was praying, I stopped and asked God how should I pray? Should I pray that they would be delivered from their troubles--or their troubles will go away? Or should I pray for courage to carry on though the difficulties that belabor them?

Romans 8:26: "The Spirit also helps in our weaknesses". God's Spirit is joined to ours when we pray. He intercedes for us "with groanings which cannot be uttered." he is touched by our troubles; He signs often as He prays. He cares for us deeply--more than we care for ourselves. Best part is, He prays 'according to the will of God" (v.27). He knows the right words to say.

Therefore, I needn't worry about getting my request exactly right. I need only to hunger for God and to reach up knowing that He cares!

"O God, too weak and worn for words, I shrink

From trials that deeply wound, and yet to think

Your Holy Spirit helps me as I pray

And gives a voice to what I cannot say! --Gustafson

Deep In the Dish of Texas

2009-02-03T20:21:00.004-06:00

If you have not checked out the blog "Deep In The Dish Of Texas" take time to check it out. http://www.cookingntexas.blogspot.com.

What is my favorite food/cooking website?
This is an easy one to answer. www.cookingntexas.blogspot.com

Do I prefer to watch cooking shows or read cooking magazines?
I prefer cooking magazines. Watching cooking shows are ok, but I like to have the extra time to check out the ingredients, time to cook, supplies needed. Plus I like the printed information in my face.

Am I more adventuresome in what I cook or in what I eat?
I am more adventuresome in what I cook. I'm willing to try new recipes. Eating out and trying something new is not my thing.

What is one ingredient that I have always wanted to cook with, but never have?
I'd have to say the ingredient is artichokes.

What is one thing I cannot cook without:
Pepper

To participate in this fun project go to: http://www.cookingntexas.blogspot.com/

Scrapping Plans

2009-02-01T10:15:00.004-06:00

Scrapping Plans is a novel about four sisters, each of which have been adopted by Marilyn and Jack Sinclair. Their mother has passed away and as adults they still meet in their late mother’s attic to work on scrapbook projects and work through life together.

Joy is the youngest sister. She was adopted from China and was always known as the quiet one. Her husband is struggling with infertility and when she needs support from her sisters they are busy planning a wedding, learning about dad’s new romance, and a sister that may be pregnant.

In fact, the sisters are so busy they do not even notice Joy is in trouble. With a trip planned to China, Joy wonders if she will understand why her birth mother abandoned her. She faces the question of whether she should adopt a child from her homeland.

This novel, Scrapping Plans, shows the greatest truth comes from realizing God’s plan for her life. Great fun read!
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:

Rebeca Seitz

and the book:

Scrapping Plans

B&H Books (February 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Rebeca Seitz, in addition to her own literary work, is founder and president of Glass Road Public Relations, a company dedicated solely to representing novelists who write from a Christian worldview. She has previously worked with authors including Ted Dekker, Frank Peretti, Robin Jones Gunn, and Brandilyn Collins. Seitz lives with her husband and son in Fulton, Kentucky.

In 2007, Rebeca published her first novel, Prints Charming , with Thomas Nelson Publishers. Two thousand eight saw the release of her next two novels, Sister’s Ink and Coming Unglued , from B&H Publishing Group, the publishing division of LifeWay. Just released from B&H is Scrapping Plans. Her next book, Perfect Piece , will release in 2009 from B&H.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 14.99

Paperback: 320 pages

Publisher: B&H Books (February 1, 2009)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0805446923

ISBN-13: 978-0805446920

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

I’ve tried to be happy. I try so very hard. Yet the frigid granite beneath my fingertips is a blazing desert compared to the barren iceberg of my womb. What woman could be happy with a monolith of ice blocking her very female essence?

This kitchen is perfectly planned. If Martha Stewart visited, she’d be envious of my exquisite arrangement of pears and apricots, dusted with the slightest coating of glaze and balanced artfully in Mother’s old bowl. She’d gasp at the coordination of stripe to check, plaid to French country print, that draws the eye around the room. Her Tod-slippered feet can sweep across my stone floor and arrive unspecked at their destination.

And, if the Great Martha were to stop there, I would measure up. My life would hold a semblance of value, of worthiness.

Most stop there.

Thank God.

I don’t mean that irreverently. How can I be irreverent? I’m the grateful adoptee of an upright preacher man and his loving wife. I’m the epitome of grateful recipient. All of Stars Hill would tell you that.

They don’t look past my kitchen.

Thank God.

But I don’t have much time to stand here, staring at a House Beautiful workspace. Scott will be home in two hours. And duck l’orange is not an easy dish for even one so seasoned as I.

Is it odd that I love French food yet Chinese blood runs through my veins? Hmm. Perhaps if I’d been raised on the soil my mother trod, I would know more of the cuisine of the Asian world. I might even be privy to which province most suits me.

I should visit China.

Did I just think that?

I can’t visit China. Daddy, that blessed preacher man, would be hurt if I went in search of a mother who was never Momma. Of a woman who took one look at me, then left me bawling on a doorstep in the dead of night.

Then again, Daddy has Zelda these days.

Now, Zelda, there’s a woman who follows every fancy. What a strange little bird she is. Those fiery red spikes in her hair make me think of either a surprised woodpecker or the recipient of an errant lightning bolt. When she smiles, her whole face turns upward. I hear we have that in common. I wish I could remember seeing a smile on my face. But when I’m alone, with a mirror reflecting the mystery of me, it isn’t a smile that comes to bear. Besides, what kind of lady wears spurs on her cowboy boots? Honestly, spurs! Why, one of these days she will rip a gash in Daddy’s ankle while they’re do-si-doing and twirling around the Heartland dance floor.

I assume that’s what happens inside that wretched place. How Kendra and Tandy spend Friday nights there is beyond me. To each her own, I suppose. Though my own will never involve cowboy boots and a twanging fiddle.

Do fiddles twang?

Maybe I meant guitar.

No matter. I have a duck to prepare.

* * *

“Did you see her?” Kendra tripped over the uneven sidewalk and grabbed Tandy’s arm. Cold gusts of wind beat at them, bringing snatches of icy rain below the sidewalk’s covering.

“Hey, watch it, sister!”

“Sorry.” She kept walking, shooting a murderous look back at the beguiling concrete. “We need to bring up sidewalk maintenance at the next town meeting.”

Tandy patted the coffee-colored hand still crooked in her elbow. “Now, Kendra, don’t be getting all drastic on me. Can you imagine what poor Tanner would do if we dared question the maintenance of our fair Stars Hill?”

“Huh.” Kendra huffed and let go of Tandy to stuff her hands in her pockets. “Probably remind us of all he’s done to keep this town in antique replica street lights and ten o’clock curfews.”

“At least the curfews are gone.”

They pulled their hoods up and stepped down from the sidewalk to cross College Street.

“I wonder how many times Daddy would have had to bail us out if they had that curfew when we were in high school?”

Tandy tucked a curl behind her ear and took long strides toward Clay’s Diner. “I seem to recall a certain sister needing bailed out anyway.”

“There was no bail involved. Just a minor misunderstanding.”

“That the whole town talked about for months.” Tandy grinned and pulled open the door of the diner. Heated air billowed out a welcome. “After you, Con Woman.”

“Yeah, keep it up, sis. I can always bring up improper car racing at the next town meeting.” Kendra sailed through the entry, ignoring Tandy’s, “You wouldn’t!” and hung her dripping coat on one of the hooks by the door.

Tandy sloughed off her own navy pea coat and stamped her yellow rain boots. “Would you?”

Kendra spun on a heel and walked off toward “their” booth in the back corner. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“There’s my darling wife!” Clay Kelner came around the counter toward them.

Kendra rolled her eyes and snatched up a menu. “Oh, spare me. Shouldn’t the newlywed bliss have worn off by now?”

“What are you upset about?” Clay allowed a quick glance for his sister-in-law, then bent and dropped a peck on Tandy’s upturned lips. “Are you and Darin fighting?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Tandy leveled a gaze at her sister. “Because Kendra is too busy spying on Joy to pay attention to her man and get their wedding planned.”

“Joy? The perfect one? Mrs. Plan-Everything-to-Death?” Clay’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you spying on Joy?”

“Because something’s wrong and I’m the only one in this family paying attention, that’s why.” Kendra slapped the menu on the table top. “And wedding plans are coming along fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure you’re not being your dramatic self?” Clay fast-stepped back before Kendra could swat him. “Lovable dramatic self, I meant!”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Kendra pointed the menu at Clay, then Tandy. “You laugh now, but something’s up and we need to find out what before it gets so bad we can’t fix it.”

1“Well, can we at least get some food first?” Tandy snatched the menu and put it back in its holder. “I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

“The usual?”

Both girls nodded and Clay turned back toward the kitchen.

When he’d gone, Kendra studied her sister. “Tandy, I know you think I’m nuts. But did you not see her at Darnell’s? I mean, she stood over that display of oranges for at least a full minute, just staring into space!”

“Yeah, I saw her, Ken.” Tandy sighed. “But you know Joy. She’s not going to appreciate us marching up into her house and demanding to know what’s wrong.”

“She wouldn’t care if Meg did it.” Kendra sniffed.

“Yes, she would. And she’s closer to Meg because this is exactly the kind of thing Meg wouldn’t do.”

Kendra huffed and turned away. Rain sluiced down the windows, making the streetlights outside sparkle. Inside, every table was filled with Stars Hill townfolk happily spooning up chili and vegetable soup. If we don’t figure this out soon, they will. And then Joy will be the talk of the town2. She pulled out her cell
“Who are you calling?”

“Meg.” Her faux ruby ring glinted in the light when she held up a finger to stop Tandy’s objection. “Hey, Meg, it’s Kendra. Tandy and I are at the diner and wondered if you could drop by. Call me as soon as you get this.” She snapped the phone closed and dropped it back in her giant suede bag, now splashed with raindrops.

“And what will that accomplish?”

“We’re going to have Meg talk to Joy about this.”

“Since when can we get Meg to do anything? Did you discover some magic wand I don’t know about?”

Kendra pushed her mahogany-colored spirals back into the burgundy headwrap from which they’d escaped. “She’s been wanting me to paint a mural on Hannah’s wall for a month. I think she’ll do just about anything to get it done.”

Tandy leaned back in the seat and whistled low. “Remind me never to underestimate you, sister.”

Kendra stopped fixing her hair and leveled a stare at Tandy. “You better believe it.”

Parting Waters

2009-01-26T08:51:00.009-06:00

Parting Waters is a true story about the courage and faith of a family. Their son, Jacob Damoff, was found under water after being missed for approximately 10 minutes. CPR was given and he was taken to a hospital where doctors gave the family the terrible news that their son was in a coma and would never be able to walk or talk again.

Facing such devastating news, the family placed Jacob in God’s hands. Each day was different with many challenges, choices, and tears. The Damoff family turned to each other, as well as to their friends and the community. I was so touched at how the community tied yellow ribbons around the town as a reminder to pray for Jacob.

This is a story that shows the strength one has when they turn to God for all answers. When bad diagnosis was given, the Damoff family prayed for direction. When finances were strained, people gave. When therapy equipment was needed, businesses responded. When help was required, friends stepped up to the plate and signed up to set by Jacob’s bed to give the family some much needed space.

As I started this book, I felt so sorry for Jeanne, the author, & her husband. What a burden to carry! But as I came toward the end, I knew that the strength they needed would come from God and their future was bright.

This is not just a story about their trials, blessings and miracles. It is a story about how us. It is a story that will encourage you and raise your faith level. It is a story that tells us no matter what we face, we can handle it.

As I think, how did Parting Waters change me? I learned that my wimpy complaints about my health are just that. Wimpy. This book also gave me the desire to volunteer at our local hospital. As Christians, we do not do enough for others. We say we don’t have enough time, but by giving a few hours a week…just think what a blessing it would be to another family in need.

Please take the time and read Parting Waters. It will change your life!

http://www.jeannedamoff.com

You Can't Say That!

2009-01-24T19:48:00.002-06:00

According to a career-building Web site, certain words should be avoided on the job. When someone in authority asks you to do a project, you shouldn't say, "Sure, no problem." If you don't mean it and aren't going to follow though. Otherwise, you'll become known as someone who doesn't keep his word. And don't say, "that's not my job," because you may need that person's help in the future.

And if your boss comes to you with a problem, careerbuilder.com suggests it's best not to blame someone else and say, "It's not my fault!"

That's the excuse Adam and Eve gave to God. they were told not to eat the fruit on the tree of knowledge of good and evil. When they disobeyed and were confronted by God, Adam blamed God and Eve, and Eve blamed the serpent. They basically said, "It's not my fauth!"

Perhaps there are things we should avoid saying to God about what He's told us to do or not to do. For example, He gives us specific instructions for Christlike behavior in I Corinthians 13, yet we may be tempted to say, "I just don't feel convicted about that," or "That's not really my gift."

What is the Lord asking of you today? How will you respond? How about, "Yes, Lord!"

"Lord, what do You want me to do?" Acts 9:6

Grace for the Afflicted

2009-01-20T23:55:00.001-06:00

Grace for the Afflicted is a much needed book in the Christian community. Having to deal with my mother going through extreme depression there was many times I did not know which way to turn. Christian friends tried to offer advice without any knowledge of what they are talking about. It’s difficult to know how to react until someone you love is diagnosed.

Matthew S Stanford, PhD explains all mental disorders such as: Mood Disorders, Anxiety Disorders, Schizophrenia, Dissociative Disorders, Eating Disorders, Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorders, Substance Use Disorders & Borderline Personality Disorders. Then he covers how we can help those who struggle with these mental problems. This is a great book that is Jesus-centered. I highly recommend this book if you are dealing with any mental disorder, or if you are taking care of or know someone who is. What a wonderful gift to give to someone who is facing these problems and do not know which way to turn.

Laughing Does The Heart Good

2009-01-19T18:40:00.000-06:00

How is your laugh meter? Sometimes I laugh out loud just remembering someone else laughing out loud. Sometimes I laugh at our dog, Cody. He is a 8 lb dog wanting to be a golden retriever. It's so funny to see how brave he is until he comes face-to-face with a large dog.

I remember our grandson, Travis, not wanting to go out to eat with us one evening. As we approached the restaurant (he was 3 at this time), he stated "I don't like this place". He had never been here before but he had decided he did not want to eat or enter this establishmemt. We insisted that he get out of the car and as he walked into the restaurant he kept replying "I don't like this place". So whenever we pass this restaurant, 5 years later, we laugh and make the statement "I don't like this place".

Why does it feel so good to make someone laugh? I believe laughing is a selfish and generous action, both at the same time. When a child does something that makes us laugh, you can see how proud they are of themself. It lifts them up as well as ourself.

They say laughter also releases endorphins that ease heartache, sadness or even pain. What a gift! Going around all day with a frown on our face is not encouraging to you or your friends. Put a smile on!

Just think those wonderful crow's feet earned around our eyes are memories of laughter. So "Boycott Botox!" Try saying that three times really fast.

Did I make you laugh? I hope so.

The Red Siren

2009-01-19T01:05:00.000-06:00

The Red Siren is a novel that takes you on a trip of faith, action, romance, and trust. As I started reading The Red Siren it started off a little slower than some of M.L. Tyndall’s other books. However, after pushing forward the book grabs your interest and it cannot be put down.

Faith Westcott has watched her sisters married off to womanizing men merely because of their titles. Being of a strong will, she is determined that this will not happen to her. So what does she do? She is a lady by day and a pirate by night. She sets out to obtain her own wealth so that her and her sisters do not have to depend on any man.

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:

M.L. Tyndall

and the book:

The Red Siren

Barbour Publishing, Inc (January 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Best-selling author of The Legacy of the King’s Pirates series, MaryLu Tyndall writes full time and makes her home with her husband, six children, and four cats on California’s coast. Her passion is to write page-turning, romantic adventures that not only entertain but expose Christians to their full potential in Christ.

For more information on MaryLu and her upcoming releases, please visit her website.

Product Details:

List Price: $10.97

Paperback: 318 pages

Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (January 2009)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1602601569

ISBN-13: 978-1602601567

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

But he who received the seed on stony places, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures only for a while. For when tribulation or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he stumbles.

Matthew 13: 20-21

Chapter 1

August 1713, English Channel off Portsmouth, England

This was Dajon Waite’s last chance. If he didn’t sail his father’s merchant ship and the cargo she held safely into harbor, his future would be tossed to the wind. With his head held high, he marched across the deck of the Lady Em and gazed over the choppy seas of the channel, expecting at any minute to see the lights of Portsmouth pierce the gray shroud of dusk. Another hour and his mission would be completed with success. It had taken two years before his father had trusted him to captain the most prized vessel in his merchant fleet, the Lady Em—named after Dajon’s mother, Emily—especially on a journey that had taken him past hostile France and Spain and then far into the pirate-infested waters off the African coast.

Fisting his hands on his hips, Dajon puffed out his chest and drew a deep breath of salty air and musky earth—the smell of home. Returning with a shipload of ivory, gold, and pepper from the Gold Coast, Dajon could almost see the beaming approval on his father’s sea-weathered face. Finally Dajon would prove himself an equal to his older brother, Theodore—obedient, perfect Theodore—who never let his father down. Dajon, however, had been labeled naught but capricious and unruly, the son who possessed neither the courage for command nor the brains for business.

Fog rolled in from the sea, obscuring the sunset into a dull blend of muted colors as it stole the remaining light of what had been a glorious day. Bowing his head, Dajon thanked God for His blessing and protection on the voyage.

“A sail, a sail!” a coarse voice blared from above.

Plucking the spyglass from his belt, Dajon held it to his eye. “Where away, Mules?”

“Directly off our lee, Captain.”

Dajon swerved the glass to the port and adjusted it as Cudney, his first mate, halted beside him.

“She seems to be foundering, Captain,” Mules shouted.

Through the glass, the dark outline of a ship came into focus, the whites of her sails stark against the encroaching night. Gray smoke spiraled up from her quarterdeck as sailors scrambled across her in a frenzy. The British flag flapped a harried plea from her mainmast.

“Hard to larboard,” he yelled aft, lowering the glass. “Head straight for her, Mr. Nelson.”

“Straight for her, sir.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, Captain.” Cudney gave him a sideways glance. “But didn’t your father give explicit orders never to approach an unknown vessel?”

“My father is not the captain of this ship, and I’ll thank you to obey my orders without question.” Dajon stiffened his lips, tired of having his decisions challenged. True, he had failed on two of his father’s prior ventures—one to the West Indies where a hurricane sunk his ship, and the other where he ran aground on the shoals off Portugal. Neither had been his fault. But this time, things would be different. Perhaps his father would even promote Dajon to head overseer of his affairs.

With a nod, Cudney turned. “Mr. Blake, Mr. Gibes, prepare to luff, if you please.” His bellowing voice echoed over the decks, sending the men up the shrouds.

“Who is she?” Cudney held out his hand for the glass.

“A merchant ship, perhaps.” Dajon handed him the telescope then gripped the railing as the Lady Em veered to larboard, sending a spray of seawater over her decks. “But she’s British, and she’s in trouble.”

The ship lumbered over the agitated waves. Dajon watched Cudney as he steadied the glass on his eye and his boots on the sodden deck. He’d been a good first mate and a trusted friend. A low whistle spilled from his mouth as he twisted the glass for a better look.

“Pray tell, Mr. Cudney, what has caught your eye, one of those new ship’s wheels you’ve been coveting?”

“Nay, Captain. But something nearly as beautiful—a lady.”

Dajon snatched the glass back as the Lady Em climbed a rising swell and then tromped down the other side. Sails snapped in the rising wind above him. Bracing his boots on the deck, he focused the glass on the merchant ship. A woman clung to the foremast, terror distorting her lovely features. She raised a delicate hand to her forehead as if she were going to faint. Red curls fluttered in the wind behind her. Heat flooded Dajon despite the chill of the channel. Lowering the glass, he tapped it into the palm of his hand, loathing himself for his shameless reaction. Hadn’t his weakness for the female gender already caused enough pain?

Yet clearly the vessel was in trouble.

“We shall come along side her,” Dajon ordered.

Cudney glared at the ship. “Something is not right. I can feel it in my gut.”

“Nonsense. Where is your chivalry?” Dajon smiled grimly at his friend, ignoring the hair bristling on the back of his own neck.

Cudney’s dark eyes shot to Dajon. “But your father—”

“Enough!” Dajon snapped. “My father did not intend for me to allow a lady to drown. Besides, pirates would not dare sail so close to England—especially to Portsmouth, where so many of His Majesty’s warships are anchored.” Dajon glanced back at the foundering ship, now only half a knot off their bow. Smoke poured from her waist, curling like a snake into the dark sky. Left to burn, the fire would sink her within an hour. “Surely you do not suspect a woman of piracy?”

Cudney cocked one brow. “Begging your pardon, Captain, but I have seen stranger things on these seas.”

***

Faith Louise Westcott flung her red curls behind her and held a quivering hand to her breast, nausea rising in her throat at her idiotic display. How did women feign such weakness without losing the contents of their stomachs?

“They ’ave taken the bait, mistress.” A sinister chuckle filled the breeze.

“Oh, thank heavens.” Faith released the mast. Planting a hand on her hip, she gave Lucas a mischievous grin. “Well, what are you waiting for? Ready the men.”

“Aye, aye.” The bulky first mate winked, and then scuttled across the deck, his bald head gleaming in the light from the lantern hanging on the mainmast.

After checking the pistol stuffed in the sash of her gown and the one strapped to her calf, Faith sauntered to the railing to get a better look at her latest victim, a sleek, two-masted brigantine. The orange, white, and blue of the Dutch flag fluttered from her mizzen. A very nice prize indeed. One that would bring her even closer to winning the private war she waged—a war for the survival of her and her sisters.

The oncoming ship sat low in the water, its hold no doubt packed with valuable cargo. Faith grinned. With this ship and the one she had plundered earlier, loaded with precious spices and silks, she was well on her way to amassing the fortune that would provide for her independence and that of her sisters—at least the two of them that were left unfettered by matrimony.

She allowed her thoughts to drift for a moment to Charity, the oldest. Last year their father had forced her into a union with Lord Villement, a vile, perverse man who had oppressed and mistreated her beyond what a woman should endure. Faith feared for her sister’s safety and prayed for God to deliver Charity, but to no avail.

Then, of course, there was the incident with Hope, their younger sister.

That was when Faith had stopped praying.

She would rather die than see her two younger sisters fettered to abusive men, and the only way to avoid that fate was to shield them with their own fortune. Cringing, she stifled the fury bubbling in her stomach. She mustn’t think of it now. She had a ship to plunder, and this was as much for Charity as it was for any of them.

The bowsprit of the brigantine bowed in obedience to her as it plunged over the white-capped swells. Gazing into the hazy mist, Faith longed to get a peek at the ninnies who had been so easily duped by her ruse but dared not raise the spyglass to her eye. Women didn’t know how to use such contraptions, after all.

Putting on her most flirtatious smile, she waved at her prey, beckoning the fools onward, then she scanned the deck as her crew rushed to their stations. Aboard her ship, she was in control; she was master of her life, her future—here and nowhere else. And oh how she loved it!

Lucas’s large frame appeared beside her. “The rest of the men be waitin’ yer command below hatches, mistress.” He smacked his oversized lips together in a sound Faith had become accustomed to before a battle. Nodding, she scanned her ship. Wilson manned the helm, Grayson and Lambert hovered over the fire, pretending to put it out, and Kane and Mac clambered up the ratlines in a pretense of terror. She spotted Morgan pacing the special perch Faith had nailed into the mainmast just for him. She whistled and the red macaw halted, bobbed his head up and down, and squawked, “Man the guns, man the guns!”

Faith chuckled. She had purchased the bird from a trader off Morocco and named him after Captain Henry Morgan, the greatest pirate of all time. The feisty parrot had been a fine addition to her crew.

Bates, her master gunner, hobbled to her side, wringing his thick hands together in anticipation. “Can I just fire one shot at ’em, Cap’n? The guns grow cold from lack of use.” His expression twisted into a pout that reminded her of Hope, her younger sister. “I won’t hurt ’em none, ye have me word.”

“I cannot take that chance, Bates. You know the rules,” Faith said as the gunner’s soot-blackened face fell in disappointment. “No one gets hurt, or we abandon the prize. But I promise we shall test the guns soon enough.”

With a grunt, Bates wobbled away and disappeared below.

Returning her gaze to her unsuspecting prey, Faith inhaled a breath of the crisp air. Smoke bit her throat and nose, but she stifled a cough as the thrill of her impending victory charged through her, setting every nerve aflame. The merchant ship was nigh upon them. She could already make out the worried expressions upon the crew’s faces as they charged to her rescue.

This is for you, Charity, and for you, Mother.

Heavy fog blanketed the two ships in gray that darkened with each passing minute. Faith tugged her shawl tighter against her body, both to ward off the chill and to hide the pistol in her sash. A vision of her mother’s pale face formed in the fog before her, blood marring the sheets on the birthing bed where she lay.

Take care of your sisters, Faith.

A burst of wind chilled Faith’s moist cheeks. A tear splattered onto the deck by her shoes before she brushed the rest from her face. “I will, Mother. I promise.”

“Ahoy there!” A booming voice shattered her memories.

She raised her hand in greeting toward the brigantine as it heaved ten yards off their starboard beam. “Ahoy, kind sir. Thank God you have arrived in time,” she yelled back, sending the sailors scurrying across the deck. Soon, they lowered a cockboat, filled it with men, and shoved off.

A twinge of guilt poked at Faith’s resolve. These men had come to her aid with kind intentions. She swallowed hard, trying to drown her nagging conscience. They were naught but rich merchants, she told herself, and she, merely a Robin Hood of the seas, taking from the rich to feed the poor. She had exhausted all legal means of acquiring the money she needed, and present society offered her no other choice.

The boat thumped against her hull, and she nodded at Kane and Mac, who had jumped down from the shrouds and tossed the rope ladder over the side.

“Permission to come aboard?” The man who appeared to be the captain shouted toward Lucas as he swung his legs over the bulwarks, but his eyes were upon Faith.

By all means. Faith shoved a floppy fisherman’s hat atop her head, obscuring her features from his view, and smiled sweetly.

***

“Aye, I beg ye, be quick about it afore our ship burns to a cinder,” the massive bald man beckoned to Dajon.

Dajon hesitated. He knew he should obey his father’s instructions, he knew he shouldn’t risk the hoard of goods in his hold, he knew he should pay heed to the foreboding of dread that now sank like a anchor in his stomach, but all he could see was the admiring smile of the red-haired beauty, and he led his men over the bulwarks.

After directing them to assist in putting out the fire, he marched toward the dark, bald man and bowed.

“Captain Dajon Waite at your service.”

When his gaze drifted to the lady, she slunk into the shadows by the foremast, her features lost beneath the cover of her hat. Odd. Somehow he had envisioned a much warmer reception. At the very least, some display of feminine appreciation.

“Give ’em no quarter! Give ’em no quarter!” a shrill voice shrieked, drawing Dajon’s attention behind him to a large red parrot perched on a peg jutting from the mainmast.

A pinprick of fear stabbed him.

“Captain,” one of his crew called from the quarterdeck. “The ship ain’t on fire. It’s just a barrel with flaming rubbish inside it!”

The anchor that had sunk in Dajon’s stomach dropped into his boots with an ominous clank.

He spun back around, hoping for an explanation, but all he received was a sinister grin on the bald man’s mouth.

Tentacles of alarm seized Dajon, sucking away his confidence, his reason, his pride. Surely he could not have been this daft. He glanced back at the Lady Em, bobbing in the sea beside them—the pride of his father’s fleet.

“To battle, men!” The woman roared in a voice belying her gender—a voice that pummeled Dajon’s heart to dust.

Dozens of armed pirates spat from the hatches onto the deck. Brandishing weapons, they hurtled toward his startled crew. One by one, his men dropped their buckets to the wooden planks with hollow thuds and slowly raised their hands. Their anxious gazes shot to Dajon, seeking his command. The pirates chortled. Dajon’s fear exploded into a searing rage. They were surrounded.

The woman drew a pistol from her sash. Dajon could barely make out the tilted lift of her lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow and prayed to God that he would wake up from this nightmare.

“I thank you, Captain, for your chivalrous rescue.” The woman pointed her pistol at him and cocked it with a snap. “But I believe I’ll be taking over your ship.”

Captain Dajon Waite is a responsible, handsome, brave and God-fearing man. The total opposite of Faith Westcott. When Captain Dajon Waite life is destroyed by the infamous pirate known as “The Red Siren”, he vows to bring her to justice. However, this may be very difficult if he falls in love with her.

The Red Siren is one of the wonderful books that will take you away to a far away time and place. You will not want to put it down and till the last page is read. I highly recommend The Red Siren.

Never Say Diet

2009-01-13T23:55:00.000-06:00

When I first say the book, Never Say Diet, I thought to myself..”Another Diet Book.” But after reading the first chapter my opinion quickly changed. Author, Chantel Hobbs, explains that in order to lose weight you have to have a “brain change.” In this book, Never say Diet, there are five decisions you must make if you are serious about losing weight. They are: 1) Be Truthful, 2) Be Forgiving, 3) Be Committed, 4) Be Interested, and 5) Surrender.

The thing I liked about this book is that it did not just give you advice. Another Diet Book tells you what you’ll need to have to lose weight, what you’ll need to know to lose weight & what you’ll need to do to lose weight. Another Diet Book also has exercise pictured so there is no question on how to do them. And then the last chapter has answers to questions about weight loss that everyone wants to know but will never ask.

This book, another Diet Book, is a great tool for someone who is ready and committed to losing weight. I highly recommend purchasing this one. I’ve started my weight loss program and anxious to find the new me.

This book is the perfect fitness workbook/journal. It walks you through sixteen weeks and helps you establish new habits that will help you burn off excess weight, increase your strength, and lead you into a new, healthy way of living.
In the book, Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer, each weeks has a scripture, quote, encouragement, suggested exercises, food suggestions, and a place to journal everything you accomplished the week you are on.
This is a great book and should be purchased along with The Never Say Diet by Chantel Hobbs.
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:

Chantel Hobbs

and the books:

Never Say Diet

WaterBrook Press; Reprint edition (December 16, 2008)

and

The Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer

WaterBrook Press (December 16, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Chantel Hobbs is a personal trainer, certified spinning instructor, and motivational speaker whose no-excuses approach to fitness has won her a grateful following across the country. The author of Never Say Diet, Chantel hosts a weekly fitness program on Reach FM radio and is a regular guest on Way FM. Her “Ditch the Diet, Do the Weekend” bootcamp takes place several times a year in a variety of locations. She has presented her unique approach to lasting fitness in People magazine and on Oprah, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Fox News, The 700 Club, Living the Life, and Paula White Today. Chantel enjoys life with her husband and their four children in South Florida.

Visit the author's website.

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTERs:

Never Say Diet Product Details:

List Price: $13.99

Paperback: 240 pages

Publisher: WaterBrook Press; Reprint edition (December 16, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0307444937

ISBN-13: 978-0307444936

The Night That

Changed My Life

How to Choose

to Do the Best

Job of Living

It should have been a scene of American family bliss. A Sunday afternoon in our home on a beautiful fall day in South Florida. My husband, Keith, was watching the Dolphins game in the living room with some friends. He’d waited all week for this. Our girls, six-year-old Ashley and four-year-old Kayla, were helping me in the kitchen. Well, kind of. Our six month-old, Jake, was jumping and laughing in his Jolly Jumper. I was baking Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, our favorite, and everybody could smell the cinnamon and butter and couldn’t wait for the cookies to come out of the oven. Especially me. As I worked in the kitchen, I could hear the football game coming from the living room. The announcers were talking about a player who had arrived at training camp completely out of shape. He was six foot four and weighed 320 pounds. “That is a big boy,” they said. “Wow! He is huge.” “Would you look at that guy,” I heard my husband say with disgust. “I can’t believe he got so fat! What a lazy bum.” Those words cut me to the heart. I had created a happy home, with a

happy husband and happy kids. But at that moment I wanted to die, because I outweighed that player by at least 10 pounds. I was bigger than anyone playing for the Miami Dolphins. And I knew I was anything but lazy. I pulled the cookies out of the oven and felt nauseous. I was pathetic. I’d been overweight my entire adult life, but I was bigger than I had ever been. I was miserable but doing an excellent job of faking out everyone who knew me. I was five foot nine and weighed 330 pounds, maybe more. I didn’t know for sure because it had been months since I’d dared to step on a scale. Besides, the only one in the house was a conveniently inaccurate discount-store model with a wheel underneath that calibrated the scale. I had adjusted it to register the lowest weight possible. I was in denial, but I was also without hope. It was the autumn of 2000. I was twenty-eight years old and was starting to believe I would never live a long and fulfilled life. Not this way. If an angel had landed on my shoulder and whispered in my ear that, in less than two years, Oprah Winfrey would have me on her show to tell a feel good weight-loss story, I’d have sent that angel packing and gone back to my cookies. I wasn’t Oprah material. And there was absolutely nothing feel-good about my life. Call me when you want a feel-bad story. That was me. If that angel had whispered that I would one day run a marathon, I’d have checked him in to an insane asylum. I couldn’t run around the block. Even in high school I hadn’t been able to run the required twenty-minute mile. My knees hurt all the time. I was morbidly obese—a term that I knew meant an early death. If one thing was clear about my life in the fall of 2000, it was that

I could never, ever run a marathon. But I did. I finished my first one in 2005 and after that ran four more— in less than a year. I went from weighing nearly 350 pounds to less than 150 pounds. And I have appeared on Oprah and Good Morning America and the cover of People magazine as one of America’s great weight-loss successes. Getting fit wasn’t easy—there was plenty of pain, deprivation, tears, and hungeralong the way. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I won’t try to sugarcoat any of that. But, honestly, I didn’t give myself a choice. Once I made the unconditional decision that I was going to lose weight and get healthy, nothing could stop me. And nothing will stop you if you make the Five Decisions to break the fat habit for good. That’s a guarantee. Here is the secret I learned—the same secret I want to share with you. I realized I had to change my mind before I could change my body, my health, and my life. I discovered the Five Decisions, which brought about an unconditional commitment to getting healthy and fit. Once I started, I treated it like a job so that no matter what else was going on in my life, I did what I had to do to achieve daily goals, weekly goals, monthly goals, and eventually the target weight and fitness that I desired. After making the Five Decisions, getting fit was a matter of showing up for work each day. The process developed from the inside out, which was a new concept for me.

FIRST, YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND

People constantly ask me how I lost 200 pounds and started running marathons. When I explain that it took several years to achieve those goals, they wonder how I was able to stick to the plan when so many others can’t. I ask myself the same question. I had failed plenty of times before. I’d tried a few diets and failed, including a bit of foolishness called the chocolate-wafer diet, which I’ll tell you about later. I’d resolved so many times not to eat the entire package of Oreos, without success. So how did I lose all that weight and keep it off reclaiming my health and gaining a new life in the process? Here’s the simple answer: my brain changed. I decided to first become a different person in my mind and then learned patience as my body followed. My success wasn’t measured only by a declining number on a scale; it was much deeper. I had to change on the inside. I needed to change my mind before I could change my body. It will work the same way for you. First you must get to the right place in your head, and then you can create the lifestyle to go along with that. Your body reflects your daily choices, so stop confusing it by the way you think. The mistake so many people make is to focus on weight loss and how long it will take. In fact, the multibillion-dollar diet industry banks on people thinking this way. Don’t get stuck in the weight loss weight gain cycle. What you should focus on is the person you want to be. Set your sights very high, and keep your commitment level even higher. In this book I’ll explain how I did that. I went from being someone who weighed more than a Miami Dolphins lineman to someone who is strong and trim and can run twenty-six miles. I went from a state of hopelessness to a life of incredible confidence. And I want to help you achieve something great in your life. If you change your mind before attempting to change your body, you can do this.

HITTING ROCK BOTTOM

While I was learning how to lose weight and regain my health, I faced setback after setback. My husband lost his job, and my mother was diagnosed with cancer—and those were only two of the crises that came along. Changing your life will never be easy, and that’s why in order to succeed, you first need to be ready to succeed. It’s a choice you make. In the fall of 2000, when I was baking cookies and overhearing my husband’s criticism of an overweight NFL lineman, I fell into despair. I realized my life was out of control and I was headed for an early grave if I didn’t change. But even then, I wasn’t yet ready to make the commitment that was necessary to change my life. The truth is, on that dark day I still wasn’t miserable enough to change. I hit rock bottom about six months later. I was at my heaviest ever—349 pounds, I think. Though I was still mostly in denial, I was starting to see myself clearly, and I hated what I saw. I’d look in the mirror and say, “You are pitiful! How could you have let this happen?” My appearance started to affect my family life. We live in South Florida, where every weekend is a pool party. My daughters were young, but they were being invited to a few parties, and I was horribly uncomfortable in a bathing suit. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my girls would be embarrassed by their mother, and that made me want to cry. It did make me cry. But that was the least of it. I was more worried that their mom would die young. I’d seen fat people, and I’d seen old people, but rarely had I seen fat, old people. If I couldn’t change for myself, maybe I could do it for my kids. One night I was driving home alone from an event at church. I felt trapped in despair. At age twenty-nine, my body felt old. I had recently had an emergency gallbladder operation, and the doctor had told me he was afraid to cut through all my layers of fat because of the risk of infection. Imagine being worried about your diseased gallbladder and experiencing anxiety about surgery. And then you learn that your weight problem makes you more prone to infection. That night in the car I felt like the most pathetic person who had ever lived. I believed that God had made me and put me on earth for a purpose, and I was not living the life He intended for me. I knew I had to change. As I drove, drowning in self-pity, I began to envision what my life would be if I weren’t fat. I thought of all the things I could do—even simple things, such as walking down an airplane aisle without having to turn sideways. I’d be able to board a flight without getting fearful stares from people hoping I wouldn’t sit next to them. And there were deeper things, such as being able to go down a slide at a playground with my kids. And I wanted never again to feel as if I was embarrassing my husband when he introduced me to business associates. I was tired of feeling prejudged by every server in every restaurant for what I ordered. I wanted to be able to shop in the same clothing stores as all my friends. I wanted a normal life. As I drove home from church, I came to the realization that I absolutely could not go on with my life as it was. I pulled over, sobbing. In total despair I cried out to God. I remember every word. “This is it!” I said. “I can’t live like this anymore. I’m done. I give all this pain to You. I surrender this battle. I need You to take over and give me a plan. Otherwise, I don’t want to live anymore.” Almost immediately a sense of inner peace filled me, and I calmed down. I had gone to church all my life and had a relationship with God, but I had certainly never felt anything like that before. The peace was real, and in my mind I heard from God. I clearly heard these words: You are not being the best you can be. It wasn’t a booming voice like in a movie, but it also wasn’t a voice coming from me. The words were a jolt to my soul. And that moment would change my life forever. Again, with crystal clarity, I “heard” a whisper: You are not being the best you can be. And for the first time in my life, I understood that this was a choice. I could choose to be the best I could be or not. We all have the same choice. We can’t choose our natural talents or what opportunities life is going to throw our way, but we can choose to do this one thing: we can do the best job of living that we are capable of. After praying alone in my car, I knew I could do better.

THE CHOICE IS YOURS

No matter how overweight and out of shape we are, our bodies and minds are capable of much more than we think. No matter what battles we face in life, we can have victory. The amazing thing is that so many of us choose not to. I know this is true because I was as guilty as anyone. For years I’d made poor choices and come up with excuses for why I really didn’t have a choice at all. I was big boned. I let myself overeat because I was pregnant. I skipped exercise because I didn’t have the time. I was too far gone to ever recover. I told myself whatever it took to hide the truth that I was not doing the best job of living. I was also being scammed by the diet industry. We all have been taken in by the hype. “We’ll give you your eating points,” the industry tells us, “and let you spend them on any food you want. And we’ll love you when you get on that scale, whether you’ve lost weight or not. We’ll keep hugging you for the next twenty-three years if need be.” Counting my points was not going to save me. Choosing the right frozen entrée and having it delivered to my home for the next two years was not going to save me. I didn’t need the unconditional love of strangers; I needed unconditional commitment from myself. I was also scammed by the “fat gene” scientists who insisted that my weight problem was out of my hands. They were wrong; it was in my hands. Chantel, I told myself, this is not cancer. I knew, because my mother had leukemia, and I had spent more tearful nights than I could count praying for her recovery something I couldn’t do anything about. I prayed that chemotherapy would work and that God would heal her. But I realized that I’d been thinking of my obesity in the same way, as an illness. I’d even been told by experts that drastic surgery might be my only option. But that was another lie. The way I lived my life and how I contributed to my health were completely in my hands. Every one of us knows what we should do, but we don’t always do it. Instead, we pretend it’s out of our control. We take the easy way out and let ourselves down. Gaining weight doesn’t come about by accident, and it’s not forced on us. We gain weight through a series of poor choices made on a regular basis over a long period of time.

We gain weight

through a series of poor choices

made on a regular basis

over a long period of time.

The same process holds true for achieving a goal related to your health and fitness. Whether it’s weight loss, athletic accomplishment, or any other personal or business goal, you achieve what you seek by learning to make the right choices and not being scared of self-sacrifice. I began wondering what my life would be like and what I would be capable of if I simply started being the best me I could. It was time to find out. After hearing God tell me, You are not being the best you can be, I made my decision, and I said it out loud: “I can do this. I will do this.” I repeated it, and I meant it. At that moment by the side of Cypress Creek Road, my life turned around.

DO IT, THEN TALK

Having made the commitment, I knew I was going to change my life, but I didn’t have a specific plan. I knew I’d have to start exercising, no matter how much I dreaded it. I knew I would have to change the way I ate, and I would need to learn more about nutrition. And to become a different person, I knew I would have to start thinking like the person I wanted to be and not the person I had allowed myself to become. I didn’t know how I was going to do all this, but I knew I would have God by my side. He might not make it easy, but He’d give me the strength to do everything that was needed. When I got home that night, Keith was already in bed. He had never criticized my weight, for which I was incredibly grateful, but I knew how he must have felt. I looked into my husband’s eyes, told him that God had spoken to me in the car, and announced that the next morning I would begin losing weight and getting healthy. (I even mentioned that one day I would write a book to reach others in my situation.) I made it clear that I was totally committed to being the best I could be. Keith smiled at me and quoted one of his favorite sources of inspiration, the self-made billionaire Art Williams: “Do it, then talk.” He was right. I shut up. Keith fell asleep, but I had a burning passion that kept me awake that night and has kept me up many nights since. Making the unconditional decision to change—the complete commitment with no turning back—had to be followed by action. First you change your mind. But to change your body and your life, you have to get moving. You have to do things and do them differently from the past. Do it. How incredibly simple—yet how long it had taken me to get to a place where I could see that clearly. Getting fit and accomplishing my dreams was simply a matter of choosing to do it, following through every single day, and understanding that failure was not an option. I could do it. I would do it. And I did.

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Keep reading, and you’ll find out how to change your life through five crucial decisions. The Five Decisions change your brain, giving you a new way of thinking about yourself, your life, your health, and your future. As long as you keep thinking the same way you always have, you will keep doing the things you have always done—including the unhealthy habits you have developed. Join me in the next chapter as we explore the past—including all the influences that worked together to bring us to where we are today. Understanding the messages that influence our self-perception and the way we respond to obstacles enables us to make the new decisions that are necessary for permanent change.

What Do You Want to Change, and Why?

As you prepare to make the mental changes that will lead to permanent life change, think through the reasons you want to change. What is motivating your desire to lose weight and reclaim your health? Use the questions that follow to think in detail about your life, your goals for the future, and what you’re willing to do to make this happen finally and forever.

1. Beyond losing weight, what do you most want to change about your life?

2. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to see certain areas of your life undergo radical change? If you’re not yet willing, what is holding you back?

3. When in your life have you felt the most hopeless? Are you now ready to move past those scars and never look back?

4. When you gained weight in the past, what factors caused you to lose your focus on health?

5. Identify three reasons or influences from the past that convinced you that you couldn’t achieve permanent life change. After considering these reasons, can you now admit they were merely excuses?

6. Think about the necessity of changing your mind before you attempt to change your body. Do you agree that lasting change begins on the inside? As you consider being the best you can be, are you ready to work from the inside out?

7. A total life change involves your mind, body, and spirit. Think about the spiritual aspect for a moment. Do you accept the role that faith plays in the process of changing your life for good?

8. When have you been held back by a fear of failure? Write down your biggest fears in this regard. As you face your fears, can you decide to let them go and give your all to permanent life change?

Never Say Diet Personal Trainer Product Details:

List Price: $10.99

Paperback: 176 pages

Publisher: WaterBrook Press (December 16, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0307446425

ISBN-13: 978-0307446428

Week 1 Training Plan

The Perfect Body Type: Yours!

You Are Lovely Today

Scripture for the week: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.… When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.”

—PSALM 139:14–16

Quote for the week: “Faith, as Paul saw it, was a living, flaming thing leading to surrender and obedience to the commandments of Christ.”

—A. W. TOZER

As you begin the journey to never say diet, remember that your value is based on who you are in Christ, not what the number on the scale says. God created everything about you, and He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows which foods are your weaknesses, and He is there whenever the temptation to overeat or consume unhealthy food seems overwhelming. The Lord knows the tears you have shed out of desperation. He was there to comfort you when it seemed like no one understood your pain. Trust me, on days when I feel the most flawed, I need the verses from Psalm 139 to remind me of what is true. The living God formed every part of my body, even the parts I would like to change. Although I used to struggle and fail in caring for my body, God always knew it best. When I finally cried out to my Creator and invited Him to help with the repair, I knew I could succeed. He wants you to succeed too. Start this week by thanking the Lord for the gifts of your life and your body. By focusing on making some improvements, you will ultimately be honoring Him more and more each day. Find a recent photo of yourself, or take one, and tape it in the space that follows. This picture will be a powerful reference for you in the coming weeks as you begin your transformation.

THE MIND FACTOR: CHANGE YOUR BRAIN

In Never Say Diet, I make a big deal about the Five Decisions—and for good reason. You will fail in this new attempt to change your life unless you first change your brain. To succeed, you need to be willing to do whatever it takes—unconditionally. I want to be your cheerleader and your friend. And for us to get going, you need to commit to the five Brain Change decisions found on pages 76–82 of Never Say Diet. Think about how each of the Five Decisions applies to your life. Also, try to memorize them. They will form the backbone you need to stand up to and overcome every area of weakness in your life. Create your personal surrender statement.

THE EXERCISE EQUATION: ARE YOU WILLING?

This week your first assignment is to start building a foundation of discipline. You will be successful over the next month if you show up for exercise thirty minutes a day, five days in a row, every week—no matter what. There are many choices for your cardiovascular exercise. Below is a list of suggestions. Even if your week gets hectic, finding the time to make this happen is imperative.

Cardio Exercise Suggestions

Basketball

Bike riding

Cross-country skiing machine

Dancing

Elliptical machine

Jogging/running

Kick boxing

Racquetball

Spinning class

Stair climber

Stair stepper

Stationary bike/recumbent bike

Step aerobics

Swimming

Tennis

Walking

How to Take Your Measurements

Taking your measurements at the beginning of each month is an important part of the process of losing weight. You will begin to see precisely where you are losing fat. As you start building more muscle, there will be months where your progress is more evident in your measurements than on the scale, because muscle is denser than fat. You will begin by taking six measurements. You should be able to do them by yourself, with the exception of your upper arm. (Ask a friend or your spouse to help you.) For instructions on taking accurate measurements, see pages 97–98 of Never Say Diet. Record your measurements below.

Bust: ______________

Chest: ______________

Waist: ______________

Hips: ______________

Thighs: ______________

Arms: ______________

Be sure that you consistently measure in the same spots each month. I also recommend taking your measurements before your workouts.

Weigh Yourself

Weigh yourself, and record your weight at the beginning of each week.

Week 1 starting weight: ________

WEEK 1 CARDIO TRAINING

Complete your cardio exercise five days in a row, for at least thirty minutes per day. In the space provided, write down the day, the date, the exercise you completed, and the duration of each exercise period. This serves as a reminder that you always found a way to get the exercise done, whether you felt like it or not.

Day 1 date/exercise/duration:

________________________________________________

How did it go?

________________________________________________

Day 2 date/exercise/duration:

________________________________________________

How did it go?

________________________________________________

Day 3 date/exercise/duration:

________________________________________________

How did it go?

________________________________________________

Day 4 date/exercise/duration:

________________________________________________

How did it go?

________________________________________________

Day 5 date/exercise/duration:

________________________________________________

How did it go?

________________________________________________

THE FOOD FACTOR: BREAKFAST IS

WHERE IT’S AT

This week you must place your nutritional focus on the most important meal of the day: breakfast. Plan to eat every day within two hours of waking up. Listed below are some fresh food ideas. Each one is about three hundred calories, which is perfect!

• Quaker Weight Control oatmeal, 1 tablespoon of raisins, cinnamon to taste, 2 slices of turkey bacon.

• One slice of whole-wheat toast, light spread of peanut butter (natural is best), and ½ grapefruit.

• Chocolate strawberry shake. Blend the following: 1 scoop chocolate protein powder, 10 small frozen strawberries, 1 packet sugar substitute, ½ cup low-fat milk, a few ice cubes.

• Egg white omelet. In a skillet with nonstick spray, cook veggies you like, 3 lightly beaten egg whites, and 1 tablespoon fat-free cheese. Accompany with half an English muffin with a dab of peanut butter.

Each of these breakfast meals provides a good balance of protein, carbs, and fat. This ensures your day gets off to a good start; it is igniting your source of energy. Find a few meals that you enjoy, and keep repeating them. This way you won’t stress out over deciding what to have.

Week 1 Breakfast Log

Using the space provided, record each day’s breakfast menu and the portions.

Day 1 date/time: ___________________________________ ________________________________________________

Day 2 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

Day 3 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

Day 4 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

Day 5 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

Day 6 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

Day 7 date/time: ___________________________________

________________________________________________

The Bishop's Daughter

2009-01-11T16:43:00.002-06:00

The novel, The Bishop’s Daughter, is about a young ladies man named Darrin Bainbridge. Trying to jumpstart his writing career, Darrin relocates to Georgia. He attends a twenty-thousand megachurch and tries to find a church scandal. Darrin’s target is Bishop Kumal Prentiss, who Darrin suspects of financial misconduct.

The turn in the story is that Darrin never expected to fall for the Bishop’s daughter, Emoni. When Darrin finally does stumble upon the story of a lifetime, he’s torn between lauching his career and protecting the woman he’s come to care about.

This is a terrific novel that makes you feel you are standing in the middle of the action. Great read! Perfect gift!

The Results of The Husband Project

2009-01-09T08:00:00.019-06:00

The Results of The Husband Project

Many thanks to you and Kathi for your generosity. This challenge became a reminder that uplifting and encouraging my husband did the exact same thing for me. I loved the plotting and planning, the reminiscing, and seeing the joy and excitement in his eyes at the unexpected. The blessing from this contest has been to me. Thank you. Love, Susan

Thank you so very much for the Husband Project!!! I'm loved it and hubby and I had so much fun. This has really been a blessing and inspiring too. Many blessings to you and your husband. Love, Karen

This has been really great! You really made us think. Thanks! Love, Judy

Thank you so much. And be on the look out I just may use your experience to make my marriage better. Love, Heather C.

This was a wonderful project and has helped me tremedously this week. Love, Kimberly

May God bless your heart. Big hugs Love, Tammy

What a kind gesture for you to do this challenge....you didn't have to do this but I really did appreciate it. I am more than certain that because of your wonderful spirit and the work you do for the kingdom, God has a special blessing to bestow upon you and your husband. I will make it a point to start keeping track of your blogs as you asked and I will sow into Larry's ministry by purchasing his book(s) as soon as I am financially able to do so. Love, Diane

This was so fun to do. I think it helped me to look at Danny in a different way. Was this in relation to the movie “Fireproof”? I was telling a friend of mine about it and she said it sounded like that. Anyway, I really enjoyed it! Thanks! Love, Tearsa

This Husband Project has been on my mind for days now… even since I bowed out to take care of my poor sick hubby. I am STILL working on Day 4’s project, and I’ll definitely let you know when it’s finished & he’s seen it. I”ll have to get over to your blog to continue the other challenges as well anyway. Thanks for your prayers for Jason as well… he seems to be doing better today! Love, Heather M.

The Husband Project, Day Five

2009-01-07T23:59:00.018-06:00

Discussion Question:
There is a saying that goes..."Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. What your character; it becomes your destiny."

What is it about "you" that needs to be changed to make your marriage better? Be honest!

Project:
If you could make a sign that represented your hubby...what would it be? It can be a one, two or three word statement. E-mail me a picture of your hubby, along with the words for your sign. They will be posted for the group to see. Have fun with this one!

RED HOT

Oh-la-la

Hunka Burnin Love

See My Jeans?
(As if anyone would be looking at the jeans)

Apogee (which means “the tops or the best”)

IM SOOOO PROUD OF YOU!

THE LOVE DOCTOR

Who is that Grinning Preacher?

WHAT A MAN!!!

The Husband Project, Day Four

2009-01-06T17:00:00.018-06:00

Discussion Question:
If your husband had one hour of uninterrupted time with you, what would he want to do?

Project:
Do A Drive-By--Leave a note under their windshield wiper with a bit of encouragement or compliment. Bonus--how happy will they be when they realize it is not a parking ticket?!? (If you cannot drive by their job, or hubby works at home, put the note on their bathroom mirror, computer, etc.) E-mail me at ginger_tate0706@yahoo.com with the following: What you did and what the note said. You can be creative and make a cute card. If you do, e-mail that to me as well. Have fun!

Day Four has posted early to give you time to work on the project for the next day.

Susan wrote "Yesterday, a dear CMA member went home to be with Jesus after a courageous battle against cancer. In light of this, I chose to write my dear hubby a poem (tho I'm not a poet). It will be difficult to surprise him with it because it's his day off and I'm already at work. So here's Plan A: If yesterday's treat is still in the freezer when I get home (yes, he likes it frozen!), I'm going to place the note under the candy bar. If that option is not available, I'm going to Plan B (which will be a spur of the moment thing). Here's the poem:

If we Only Have Today

If we only have today, oh the endless things we could do.
There are so many options; it would be difficult to choose.

We could visit an exotic beach to feel the sand between our toes.
And watch the water's waves as they splash against the shore.

Perhaps we'd sail the ocean just to catch the wind.
And feel the water spray on our faces as we skim across its surface.

We could find a quiet place to sit just to watch the sun go down.
Or climb atop a mountain peak to watch an eagle soar.

It really doesn't matter what we choose to do.
As long as we're together; as long as it's with you.

I love you.
Blessings, Susan

Tearsa wrote "I had fun making this little note/card for my hubby. I was sitting right next to him, (he was on his laptop) when I made it. Since he works at a Federal Prison, a drive-by would be frowned upon. So, I quietly slipped it into his lunch bag this morning. When I got home, he said I found a note in my lunch bag this morning. He was pleasantly surprised! (Especially since I will be out of town for the next couple of days)".

The Card read:
People love Chocolate
Bears love Honey
More than people love Chocolate
More than Bears love Honey
I love you!
You are my best friend, my soul mate!
Yours forever!

Diane wrote "This project is so much fun. This one actually may turn out to be an easy one for me but we’ll see. My husband is gigging at a very popular jazz club here in Houston tonight so he typically parks in the same spot. A friend and I decided to go up there after work so I’ll sneak and put it on the windshield of his car or maybe the inside because I don’t want anyone to take it…in an obvious spot where he’ll see it….plus, I signed the envelope with my lipstick (that was a little messy & smeared but the thought is what counts) and kissed the back side of it.

On the inside, I printed out a picture we took on my birthday while we were on our cruise and glued it to the front of a card. Then on the inside, I glued a little graphic I got off the internet that said ‘Married and still in love’. I finally wrote a note in the card which said:

Babe, this is just a little note to show you how much I love you and to remind you that each day with you creates a new memory that I will cherish like the picture on the front of this note’!

Love you! You’re my ‘Teddy Bear’

Heather M wrote "Ginger, So sad & sorry to say that I have to pull out of this "Husband Project" ... in order to participate in the REAL husband project - taking care of my sick hubby!! :( He's been really sick these past few days, so I just jumped on the computer for literally 5 minutes just to let you know I won't be able to complete my projects on time.... I'm in the midst of day 4's project anyway, but... it won't be done (or seen by him) on time. Off to take care of Mr. Sicky! God bless!"

Dear Lord,
You know Jason so much better than I do. You know his sickness and the burden he carries. You also know his heart. Lord, I ask you to be with Jason now, working in his life. Let your will be done in his life. Lord, I pray for Jason because your Word says I should pray for his healing. I believe you hear this earnest prayer from my heart and that it is powerful because of your promise. I have faith in you to heal Jason, but I also trust in the plan you have for his life. I ask that you look with mercy and grace toward Jason. Nourish his spirit and soul in this time of suffering and comfort him with your presence. Lord, Let Jason know you are there with him. We thank you Lord for what you are doing right now...Amen!

Judy wrote "I left a note on top of his coffee mug on the counter so that, when he got up this morning and came into the kitchen, it was the first thing he saw (even before his coffee).
The note said
I love you for who you were,
I love you for who you are,
I love you for who you'll always be,
and that is God's gift from Heaven to me."
I LOVE YOU!

Of course, he grabbed me and kissed me after reading it."

Tammy wrote "Sorry this is late ,
I was sick yesterday and the kids were home because of the weather so it was crazy here.... anyways I did the project this morning...hope thats ok!

I packed his lunch and I put him a note in it. He'll have a good day after lunch anyway.I hope lol. Heres what the note said.....

Honey, You are my man, The one who stands, Tall in a crowd to me. Forever I'll love you. YOU SEE? love, me

Shelley wrote "I left Dominic a note telling him how much I appreciate how hard he works. Many times he says he does not feel appreciated for working hard and long hours. His job is very labor intensive. I made sure I let him know that all he does to provide for our family does not go unnoticed".

Kimberly made a card that said "Congratulations Michael...You are my hero! You have one hour of uninterrupted to spend with your wife tonight. What do you want to do? P.S. Please respond in writing"

Karen made a card that said "Loving you is easy. Being loved by you is humbling because you love me flaws and all". Karen also wrote "I sent the picture of the motorcycle because he loves me so much that he was willing to give up this bike to take care of a financial matter that had nothing to do with him, but everything to do with my own financial irresponsibility. Thank God he didn't have to give up the bike and things are so much better financially, as I totally trust him to manage our finances".

The Husband Project, Day Three

2009-01-05T23:59:00.028-06:00

Discussion Question:
Describe your favorite date with your husband before you got married. Enter this answer in the comment section of this blog.

Project:
How creative can you be for five bucks? It's time to find out bcause that is all you have to bless your hubby with today. Maybe it is buying ingredients to make his favorite brownies. Could it be buying candles to set on the table tonight? Your choice. You have $5.00 only! So..here we go. Be sure and e-mail me at ginger_tate0706@yahoo.com when your project is completed. If you have a digital camera, send me a picture. This can be fun!

Judy sent the picture and the following comment: My $5 was used to make him happy and put a smile on his face.
The attached picture is of two things that represent my husband, Rick.
Pooh Bear is the nickname I gave him several years ago and he absolutely LOVES Starbucks.
He was very pleasantly surprised with my gifts.

Shelley wrote "For day three, I could not spend $5. but I thought about something I could give him that would be meaningful. A few years ago we bought these expensive backpacks together that were on clearance. They were exactly what we both wanted. Over the course of time, my husbands has gotten torn up because he uses his more than I use mine. I have about 2-3 different bags I use for school because once one starts to bother my back I switch back and forth. Needless to say, he has been bothering me about letting him have my favorite backpack for a few months now. It was kind of aggravating because I always thought to myself "he knows I switch back and forth because they all eventually start to bother my back, why would he want to take it"? Anyways, I took the backpack today and left it on his side of the bed with a note. It said "Dominic, I love you more than this backpack". When he got home from work he hugged me and said "I love you, but you can keep your backpack because I don't want your back to hurt". So now, I don't know WHO will keep the backpack, and it doesn't even matter because we both got what we wanted in the end".

Heather M wrote "Today’s project was going to be a little hard for me, considering the fact that I just sat down at the computer at almost 9 p.m. to start this! But then I realized… I spent $5 to bless my hubby today ANYWAY!! After work today, I went grocery shopping while Jason was at wrestling practice. I got home a few minutes before him, planning to do the piles of dishes in the sink, many loads of laundry, & make a nice dinner for my husband – all before his meeting at church at 7 p.m. I was going to be SUPER-WIFE! Well, he came in the door & wasn’t looking to good…. He hadn’t been feeling well for about 2 weeks now, and decided today that he’d had enough. He hinted about going to Urgent Care… but I made the final decision for him. I knew that this was what he really needed. I stopped doing the dishes, dried off my hands, & said, “We’re going.” I drove him there, waited for him to finish, then went and filled his prescription for him. The cost? $4.56!! The benefit? My honey can start to feel better…. & I’ll be taking care of him in the meantime, with some good TLC!"

Susan wrote "My husband works 2nds (3-11). Our brief encounter today was kissing him goodbye as he slept and I left for work this morning. He won't be home until after midnight when I'm already asleep. I purchased a Hallmark card and his favorite candy bar, a Hershey's with almonds, to surprise him when he gets home. We've been on the South Beach Diet since mid-November so this will be extra special for him. This choice treat set me back $2.78".

Tearsa wrote "Wow! When I realized today’s project, I was knee-deep in report cards that have to be out this week. But then after re-thinking about whether or not I must go out, in the cold, I realized I had already blessed him today. I fudged just a tiny bit…the price had gone up! I bought him his favorite drink to take to work: Lipton diet green tea".

Diane wrote "Since I am just getting to 'Day Three' project, I didn't have time to get anything for the $5 so I had to do some creative thinking real fast because I only have 8-minutes according to my clock to get this completed. So, my husband was sitting next to me working on some music and I decided to give him 5-big kisses/hugs. For each one, I told him why he was so special to me...here's what I said in a snapshot.
xoxo1 - God made you just for me.
xoxo2 - You make me laugh even when I try to be mad at you.
xoxo3 - You are such a loving and caring husband to me always.
xoxo4 - You believe in me and encourage me to be/do my best.
xoxo5 - I love you more each day and I always think I can't love you anymore than I do but it keeps increasing.

Unfortunately, since we are both dressed for bed, he was not having any pictures taken of him tonight....but trust me, he had a BIG SMILE on his face when this project ended for the night! I think he's going to be looking forward to each day as much as me now! :-)"

Kimberly wrote "Creativity with $5.00 bucks was candilght via McDonald's his favorite place. LOL"

Heather C said "Hubby worked so late that yes the kids were in bed. But he brought home some supper for us I had the family room coffee table cleaned off with a nice towel as a cloth, a candle burning and wine glasses and the recording of NCIS that he wanted to watch, then we cuddled on the couch watching another show. But we were both so tired we cuddled in bed and went to sleep".

Karen wrote "I am not sure that I am on track. I am trying to keep up but I'm getting confused about the days and the project, but I'll hang in there. I've attached the picture of my $5.00 gift. As I mentioned, Ron's favorite place to eat is Chipotle's. Well, I've attached a picture of him that I took last night holding a $5.00 giftcard from Chipotle's".

Tammy wrote "First off I went to a local dollar tree and bought blank cd and some brownies...I cleaned up and sent the kids to the neighbors for a hour or so and when hubby came home I put the cd on...It was some fav songs from when we had first got married..Had the candle lit..praised God for all we have....Then we ate dinner pork chops ,scalloped potaoes and green beans...Then I gave him a message with some oil I got at the dollar store.....He loved it.I loved it......Just spending time together remembering ..thanks. again...sorry I couldn't get my cam working ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh".

Fireflies In December

2009-01-05T13:43:00.000-06:00

Fireflies in December is an exceptional read! The author, Jennifer Erin Valent, writes with a southern literature accent that takes you to the center of what is being said in the novel.

The story starts in the summer of 1932 when she, Jessilyn Lassiter, thought she had killed a man. Then her best friend loses her parents in a tragic fire. Since the friend had no parents, Jessilyn’s father vowed to raise Gemma as if she was his own. The only problem was one child was white and the other black.

Fireflies in December covers injustice, riots, peaceful friendships, tragedy, sense of community and memories of an era that has long past. This is a book that I feel all teenagers should read. They would never look at prejudice the same again.

The Husband Project, Day Two

2009-01-04T23:59:00.031-06:00

Discussion Question:
Describe your husband's perfect meal--where, when and what is served. Is it in a restaurant, or is it one of you cooking?

Project:
Make a list of 10 reasons you love your husband. E-mail me this list so I can post it. Once again, my e-mail address is www.ginger_tate0706@yahoo.com.

PS: You might want to leave the list laying around so he can find it....

Here are my ten reasons:
1) He is the same everyday. 2) I love the smile on his face when he knows he's been caught. 3) He loves God, church, and his family. 5) He always thinks of me first. 6) He loves traveling. 7) He cried when we lost our dog. 8) He loves being with our friends. 9) He runs our household on a budget and I always know that we are taken care of. 10) I know he will never leave me. (Ginger)

Here are Diane's 10 Reasons:
1) He loves God and knows the priority to place things..God, Me, Family, Work/Music, etc. 2) He has the best sense of humor! You can't be mad at him because he will say or do something that will just make you burst our laughing. Plus everyone loves him because he is SO-O-O-O-O-O FUNNY! 3) He loves our children, granddaughter (who lovingly calls him Poppy) with a love that is so real and beautiful...anyone that knows him, knows he is a 'loving & caring father/grandfather' in every sense. 4) He isn't afraid to show his softer side...i know the cliche says men shouldn't cry. But, my husband doesn't have a problme being real. 5) He surprises me in so many ways just to show me that he loves me and more importantly that he is IN LOVE with me. 6) He is not afraid to admit when he's wrong and hates to do/say anything that hurts me. I think it hurts him worst when he knows I am hurt and he goes out of his way to make it up to me. 7) He's my 'Teddy Bear'! I want him to be healthy because I want him here with me. 8)There is nothing like cuddling up under him and having him hold me. I feel so safe and secure. 9) He is so talented...I love to hear him sing - wow, what a voice (he can make you melt). When he sings at church, he is so anointed and you can just feel his love for God. He is an awesome musician, songwriter, and producer that has great things ahead of him. 10) The #1 reason - He's MY HUSBAND! He chose ME!

Here are Tammy's 10 Reasons:
1) He is my best friend. 2) He's still a little frisky...lol 3) He's a great father.
4) Good bread winner. 5) Hard worker.
6) Puts his family first. 7) He cried at our daughter's wedding. 8) Trusts me to take care of the bills. 9) Lets me have time with friends. 10) He's my better half.

Here are Judy's 10 Reasons:
1) He loves God and our church. 2) He always gives me positive reinforcement. 3) He tells me he loves me several times a day. 4) He is totally understanding towards women (especially me) and their issues. 5) He is a sensitice man (not afraid to cry). 6) He has a great sense of humor. 7) He loves to do the cooking. 8) He is faithful and true to me. 9) He trusts me to make good judgments and stands behind my decisions. 10) He rarely gets angry with me.

Here are Peg's 10 Reasons:
1) After a misunderstanding,he hugs me and says "everything is going to be ok." 2) Children and grandchildren are first in both of our lives. 3) He has built a great portfolio for our future (stock market hurry and come back). 4) He likes to travel as I do. 5) He loves to shop for me and has me dressed as a Queen. 6) He willingly goes to the grocery store to supply the kitchen. 7) He sometimes exercies with me, could be a great daily date. It's a new year with high hopes. 8) He gives me the freedom I need for my work as I do him. BOTH of us working from the home. 9) He's direct, not easily persuaded, fair but wants to know the facts with no sugar coating. This has made me grow as I am somewhat the opposite with the goal of keeping peace as long as it doesn't cross my standards. 10) He's put up with me for 39 years this summer. He has a forgiving heart and starts over fresh each new day.

Here are Susan's Ten Reasons:
1) His love for God and his family 2) His warped sense of humor. 3) His compassion for others. 4) He's the best dad and poppy ever. 5)He a clean/neat freak so HE does housework (and his own ironing). 6)He looks forward to our vacations. 7) He makes plans to spend time together. 8)No matter how big the bump in the road, I know he will always be by my side. 9)He understands that we each need time with our friends. 10) I feel safe and loved.

Here are Heather C's Ten Reasons:
1) He loves me for me. 2) He spoils me. 3) He wants to work on making God #1 for him and our family. 4) He works hard so that I can stay at home with the kids.
5) He "wants" me no matter what size I am. 6) He will protect our family no matter what. 7) He can cry in front of me. 8) He has a cute butt (lol). 9) He is very hard on the kids regarding school and the importance of it. 10) He loves animals.

Here are Shelley's Ten Reasons:
1) He is a hard and dependable worker. 2) He sacrifices his wants for his childrens. 3) He is playful and fun (to the point of annoying sometimes). 4) If the kids are still hungry after a meal he will not eat until they are full. 5) He will not spend ANY money until he knows we have it. 6) He is very funny. 7) He takes care of his body. 8)He is easy going. 9) He does not expect dinner, laundry, cleanliness but is happy to have it. 10) He encourages my dreams (college) and helps me achieve them by helping with kids, home, etc.

Here are Heather M's 10 Reasons:
1) He has a passion for Jesus Christ, which is SO attractive in a man! 2) He loves me for who I AM, not for who I’m trying (or wanting) to be. 3) He loves to play me in games we’re BOTH good at, like Rummikub & Wii (& is not a sore loser!) 4) He is supportive of anything I want to do – blog, job, ministry, etc. 5) He makes me laugh… a LOT. 6) He’s a great fashion consultant/shopping buddy. 7) He makes a great pot of coffee… which we both like to drink just for the creamers we put in! 8) He loves ANYTHING I cook, just about. 9) He strives to be a better husband to me, day in & day out. 10) He encourages me in my endeavors to be a better wife without being critical or bossy!

Here are Tearsa's Ten Reasons:
1) He’s my best friend. 2) His love for God and country. 3) He’s one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever known. 4) He’s a little ornery. 5) He’s encouraging to me in all I do and who I am. 6) He has his priorities correct: God, me, family.
7) He’s always there to hold me when I cry or laugh with me when I’m happy.
8) He is my “soul mate.” 9) He brings out the best in me. 10) He’s just so adorable.

Here are Kimberly's Ten Reasons:
1) He loves the Lord first and foremost. 2) He loves me. 3) He loves his children. 4) He loves being a couch potatoe. He works from home. 5) He is a simple man. 6) He encourages all of my endeavors.
7) He allows me to run the hosehold financially. Yepeh! 8) He is the head of our family. 9) He has a big heart. A true giver 10) He has big dreams.

Here are Karen's Ten Resons:
1) I love him because he loves the Lord and he's not afraid to say it or show it.
2) He loves me with every fiber of his being and he shows it everyday. 3) He loves our daughters....such a wonderful father. 4) He is committed to our family and willing to do whatever it takes to protect us and make sure we are okay. 5) He is so funny. My daughters and I get a little bored when he's not around. He is so fun to be around. 6) Whenever I'm not feeling well he takes such good care of me. 7) He brings me tea everynight, except when he's at work. Sometimes I get him to wake me up when he gets home because it just doesn't taste right unless he prepares it. 8) When I'm not feeling "it" he doesn't mind, which makes me end up feeling "it" anyway. LOL!!!! 9) He tells me "No". If he didn't, we probably wouldn't have a dime. 10) He takes care of his mom. But what's really special, is that he takes care of my mom too. I thank God for that because I'm an only child. He loves my mother and he just "cheeses" when she calls him "my son".

The Husband Project, Day One

2009-01-03T20:25:00.015-06:00

Discussion Question:
What is your biggest challenge in dating your husband? Money? Time? Energy? His attitude? Your Attitude?

Project:
Find a picture of the two of you that you really love. You can either e-mail me a copy at www.ginger_tate0706@yahoo.com. All pictures will be entered into this blog.

Let's have fun! We all want to remember why we married our husband's. Let's see how much we can accomplish in 5 days.

Following is a picture of Larry & I. I love his expression. Be sure and e-mail me your picture - you do want to win this wonderfulbook.

Karen & Hubby

Heather & Hubby

Susan & Hubby

Heather C & Hubby

Peg & Hubby

Dianne & Hubby

Judy & Hubby

Kimberly & Hubby

Tammy & Hubby

Shelley & Hubby

Tearsa & Hubby

Blood Lines by Mel Odom

2009-01-03T08:25:00.000-06:00

This book is marketed as a Christian novel. However, there was not much in the book in regards to “Christian” conversations. It is true that Shel’s brother was a preacher, but he did not preach much. A few people were quoted to have prayed. However, once again, those prayers were not included in the book’s writing. As a woman, I was disappointed religion was not mentioned more.

The main characters of the book are NCIS members. One of the teams members is Shel who is a Marine. While trying to make an arrest, things go wrong. A man is killed whose family vows to get back at Shel.

This was a military thriller with twists and turns. This book captures the reader from page one until the ending. It does have quite a bit of violence. But if you are looking for an adventure book for the main your life…this is the one.

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Mel Odom

and the book:

Blood Lines

Tyndale House Publishers (December 8, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Mel Odomis a best-selling author with many published works to his credit. Mel has been inducted into the Oklahoma Professional Writers Hall of Fame and received the Alex Award for his fantasy novel The Rover. Paid in Blood was the first book in Mel’s three-book Military NCIS series. He has also published four military thrillers with Tyndale House; Apocalypse Dawn, Apocalypse Crucible, Apocalypse Burning and Apocalypse Unleashed. Mel teaches courses in forensic investigation, crime-scene investigation, profiling, and cold-case investigation. Mel and his family reside in Oklahoma City.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99

Paperback: 432 pages

Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers (December 8, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1414316356

ISBN-13: 978-1414316352

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Gymnasium

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

1203 Hours

“Did you come here to play basketball or wage war?”

Shelton McHenry, gunnery sergeant in the United States Marine Corps, shook the sweat out of his eyes and ignored the question. After long minutes of hard exertion, his breath echoed inside his head and chest. His throat burned. Despite the air-conditioning, the gym felt hot. He put his hands on his head and sucked in a deep breath of air. It didn’t help. He still felt mean.

There was no other word for it. He wanted the workout provided by the game, but he wanted it for the physical confrontation rather than the exercise. He had hoped it would burn through the restless anger that rattled within him.

Normally when he got like this, he tried to stay away from other people. He would gather up Max, the black Labrador retriever that was his military canine partner, and go for a run along a secluded beach until he exhausted the emotion. Sometimes it took hours.

That anger had been part of him since he was a kid. He had never truly understood it, but he’d learned to master it—for the most part—a long time ago. But now and again, there were bad days when it got away from him. Usually those bad days were holidays.

Today was Father’s Day. It was the worst of all of them. Even Christmas, a time when families got together, wasn’t as bad as Father’s Day. During the heady rush of Christmas—muted by the sheer effort and logistics of getting from one place to another after another, of making sure presents for his brother’s kids were intact and wrapped and not forgotten, of preparing and consuming the endless supply of food—he could concentrate on something other than his father.

But not today. Never on Father’s Day.

The anger was bad enough, but the thing that totally wrecked him and kicked his butt was the guilt. Even though he didn’t know what to do, there was no escaping the fact that he should be doing something. He was supposed to be back home.

Usually he was stationed somewhere and could escape the guilt by making a quick phone call, offering up an apology, and losing himself back in the field. But after taking the MOS change to Naval Criminal Investigative Service, he was free on weekends unless the team was working a hot case.

At present, there were no hot cases on the horizon. There wasn’t even follow-up to anything else they’d been working on. He’d had no excuse for not going. Don, his brother, had called a few days ago to find out if Shel was coming. Shel had told him no but had offered no reason. Don had been kind enough not to ask why. So Shel was stuck with the anger, guilt, and frustration.

“You hearing me, gunney?”

Shel restrained the anger a step before it got loose. Over on the sidelines of the gym, Max gave a tentative bark. The Labrador paced uneasily, and Shel knew the dog sensed his mood.

Dial it down, he told himself. Just finish up here. Be glad you’re able to work through it.

He just wished it helped more.

“Yeah,” Shel said. “I hear you.”

“Good. ’Cause for a second there I thought you’d checked out on me.” Remy Gautreau mopped his face with his shirt.

He was young and black, hard-bodied but lean, where Shel looked like he’d been put together with four-by-fours. Gang tattoos in blue ink showed on Remy’s chest and abdomen when he’d lifted his shirt. Shel had noticed the tattoos before, but he hadn’t asked about them. Even after working together for more than a year, it wasn’t something soldiers talked about.

Before he’d entered the Navy and trained as a Navy SEAL, Remy Gautreau had been someone else. Most enlisted had. Then whatever branch of military service they signed on for changed them into someone else. The past was shed as easily as a snake lost its skin. Men and women were given a different present for that time and usually ended up with a different future than they would have had.

But they don’t take away the past, do they? Shel asked himself. They just pretend it never happened.

“Where you been?” Remy asked.

“Right here.” Shel broke eye contact with the other man. He could lie out in the field when it was necessary, but he had trouble lying to friends. “Playing center.”

Remy was part of the NCIS team that Shel was currently assigned to. His rank was chief petty officer. He wore bright orange knee-length basketball shorts and a white Tar Heels basketball jersey. Shel wore Marine-issue black shorts and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves hacked off. Both men bore bullet and knife scars from previous battles.

The other group of players stood at their end of the basketball court. Other groups of men were waiting their turn.

Shel and Remy were playing iron man pickup basketball. The winning team got to stay on the court, but they had to keep winning. While they were getting more tired, each successive team rested up. Evading fatigue, learning to play four hard and let the fifth man rest on his feet, was a big part of staying on top. It was a lot like playing chess.

“You’ve been here,” Remy agreed in a soft voice. “But this ain’t where your head’s been. You just been visiting this game.”

“Guy’s good, Remy. I’m doing my best.”

The other team’s center was Del Greene, a giant at six feet eight inches tall—four inches taller than Shel. But he was more slender than Shel, turned better in the tight corners, and could get up higher on the boards. Rebounding the ball after each shot was an immense struggle, but once in position Shel was hard to move. He’d come down with his fair share of rebounds.

Basketball wasn’t Shel’s game. He’d played it all through high school, but football was his chosen gladiator’s field in the world of sports. He had played linebacker and had been offered a full-ride scholarship to a dozen different colleges. He had opted for the Marines instead. Anything to shake the dust of his father’s cattle ranch from his boots. None of the colleges had been far enough away for what he had wanted at the time. After all those years of misunderstandings on the ranch, Shel had just wanted to be gone.

“You’re doing great against that guy,” Remy said. “Better than I thought you would. He’s a better basketball player, but you’re a better thinker. You’re shutting him down. Which is part of the problem. You’re taking his game away from him and it’s making him mad. Problem is, you got no finesse. He’s wearing you like a cheap shirt. If we had a referee for this game, you’d already have been tossed for personal fouls.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t play like a homecoming queen himself.” Shel wiped his mouth on his shirt. The material came away bloody. He had caught an elbow in the face last time that had split the inside of his cheek. “He’s not afraid of dishing it out.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t say that fool didn’t have it coming, but I am saying that this isn’t the time or the place for a grudge match.” Remy wiped his face with his shirt again. “The last thing we need is for Will to have to come down and get us out of the hoosegow over a basketball game. He’s already stressed over Father’s Day because he’s having to share his time with his kids’ new stepfather.”

Shel knew United States Navy Commander Will Coburn to be a fine man and officer. He had followed Will into several firefights during their years together on the NCIS team.

The marriage of Will’s ex-wife was only months old. Everyone on the team knew that Will had taken the marriage in stride as best as he could, but the change was still a lot to deal with. Having his kids involved only made things worse. Before, Father’s Day and Mother’s Day had been mutually exclusive. This year the kids’ mother had insisted that the day be shared between households.

One of the other players stepped forward. “Are we going to play ball? Or are you two just going to stand over there and hold hands?”

Shel felt that old smile—the one that didn’t belong and didn’t reflect anything that was going on inside him—curve his lips. That smile had gotten him into a lot of trouble with his daddy and had been a definite warning to his brother, Don.

The other team didn’t have a clue.

“The way you guys are playing,” Shel said as he stepped toward the other team, “I think we’ve got time to do both.”

Behind him, Shel heard Remy curse.

* * *

1229 Hours

At the offensive goal, Shel worked hard to break free of the other player’s defense. But every move he made, every step he took, Greene was on top of him. Shel knew basketball, but the other guy knew it better.

A small Hispanic guy named Melendez played point guard for Shel and Remy’s team. He flipped the ball around the perimeter with quick, short passes back and forth to the wings. Unable to get a shot off, Remy and the other wing kept passing the ball back.

Shel knew they wanted to get the ball inside to him if they could. They needed the basket to tie up the game. They were too tired to go back down the court and end up two buckets behind.

Melendez snuck a quick pass by the guard and got the ball to Shel. With a fast spin, Shel turned and tried to put the ball up. But as soon as it left his fingers, Greene slapped the shot away. Thankfully Melendez managed to recover the loose ball.

“Don’t you try to bring that trash in here,” Greene taunted. “This is my house. Nobody comes into my house.” Sweat dappled his dark features and his mocking smile showed white and clean. “You may be big, gunney, but you ain’t big enough. You hear what I’m saying?”

Shel tried to ignore the mocking voice and the fact that Greene was now bumping up against him even harder than before. The man wasn’t just taunting anymore. He was going for an all-out assault.

Melendez caught a screen from Remy and rolled out with the basketball before the other defensive player could pick him up. One of the key elements to their whole game was the fact that most of them had played ball before. Greene was a good player—maybe even a great player—but one man didn’t make a team. Special forces training taught a man that.

Free and open, Melendez put up a twenty-foot jump shot. Shel rolled around Greene to get the inside position for the rebound. Greene had gone up in an effort to deflect the basketball. He was out of position when he came back down.

Shel timed his jump as the basketball ran around the ring and fell off. He went up and intercepted the ball cleanly. He was trying to bring the ball in close when Greene stepped around him and punched the basketball with a closed fist.

The blow knocked the ball back into Shel’s face. It slammed against his nose and teeth hard enough to snap his head back. He tasted blood immediately and his eyes watered. The sudden onslaught of pain chipped away at the control that Shel had maintained. He turned instantly, and Greene stood ready and waiting. Two of the guys on his team fell in behind him.

“You don’t want none of this,” Greene crowed. “I promise you don’t want none of this.” He had his hands raised in front of him and stood in what Shel recognized as a martial arts stance.

Shel wasn’t big on martial arts. Most of his hand-to-hand combat ability had been picked up in the field and from men he had sparred with to increase his knowledge.

“You’re a big man,” Greene snarled, “but I’m badder.”

Despite the tension that had suddenly filled the gymnasium and the odds against him, Shel grinned. This was more along the lines of what he needed. He took a step forward.

Remy darted between them and put his hands up. “That’s it. Game’s over. We’re done here.”

“Then who wins the game?” another man asked.

“We win the game,” one of the men on Shel’s team said.

“Your big man fouled intentionally,” Melendez said. “That’s a forfeit in my book.”

“Good thing you ain’t keepin’ the book,” Greene said. He never broke eye contact with Shel. “Is that how you gonna call it, dawg? Gonna curl up like a little girl and cry? Or are you gonna man up and play ball?”

Remy turned to face the heckler. “Back off, clown. You don’t even know the trouble you’re trying to buy into.”

Greene was faster than Shel expected even after playing against the man. Before Remy could raise his hands to defend himself, Greene hit him in the face.

Driven by the blow, Remy staggered backward.

Copyright © 2008 by Mel Odom. All rights reserved

Be Strong & Curvaceous

2009-01-03T08:20:00.003-06:00

Be Strong & Curvaceous is a fun book for any teenager to read. I only wish there had been books like this when I was young. The Author, Shelley Adina has a B.A. in Literature, an M.A. in Writing Popular Fiction, and countless manuscript pages. Shelley is a world traveler and pop culture junkie with an incurable addiction to designer handbags. She knows the value of a relationship with a gracious God and having Christian friends.

Be Strong & Curvaceous is a story about a girl who is no afraid to stand up for what is right and wrong. This is the type of book that any teenager would enjoy reading. It will keep them entertained from page one to the ending. This book is about love, friendship, importance of good grades, respect for parents, love, and most of all about a relationship with God.

The book takes place in a boarding school where each day is new and exciting. A great book to help you escape into another world…but learn very important things every teenager needs to know.

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Shelley Adina

and the book:

Be Strong and Curvaceous (All About Us Series, Book 3)

FaithWords (January 2, 2009)

Plus a Tiffany's Bracelet Giveaway! Go to Camy Tang's Blog and leave a comment on her FIRST Wild Card Tour for Be Strong and Curvaceous, and you will be placed into a drawing for a bracelet that looks similar to the picture below.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Shelley Adina is a world traveler and pop culture junkie with an incurable addiction to designer handbags. She knows the value of a relationship with a gracious God and loving Christian friends, and she's inviting today's teenage girls to join her in these refreshingly honest books about real life as a Christian teen--with a little extra glitz thrown in for fun! In between books, Adina loves traveling, listening to and making music, and watching all kinds of movies.

It's All About Us is Book One in the All About Us Series. Book Two, The Fruit of my Lipstick came out in August 2008. Book Three, Be Strong & Curvaceous, came out January 2, 2009. And Book Four, Who Made You a Princess?, comes out May 13, 2009.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 9.99

Reading level: Young Adult

Paperback: 256 pages

Publisher: FaithWords (January 2, 2009)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0446177997

ISBN-13: 978-0446177993

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

BE CAREFUL WHAT you wish for.

I used to think that was the dumbest saying ever. I mean, when you wish for something, by definition it’s wonderful, right? Like a new dress for a party. Or a roommate as cool as Gillian Chang or Lissa Mansfield. Or a guy noticing you after six months of being invisible. Before last term, of course I wanted those wishes to come true.

I should have been more careful.

Let me back up a little. My name is Carolina Isabella Aragon Velasquez . . . but that doesn’t fit on school admission forms, so when I started first grade, it got shortened up to Carolina Aragon—Carly to my friends. Up until I was a sophomore, I lived with my mother and father, my older sister Alana and little brother Antony in a huge house in Monte Sereno, just south of Silicon Valley. Papa’s company invented some kind of security software for stock exchanges, and he and everyone who worked for him got rich.

Then came Black Thursday and the stock market crash, and suddenly my mom was leaving him and going to live with her parents in Veracruz, Mexico, to be an artist and find herself. Alana finished college and moved to Austin, Texas, where we have lots of relatives. Antony, Papa, and I moved to a condo about the size of our old living room, and since Papa spends so much time on the road, where I’ve found myself since September is boarding school.

The spring term started in April, and as I got out of the limo Papa sends me back to Spencer Academy in every Sunday night—even though I’m perfectly capable of taking the train—I couldn’t help but feel a little bubble of optimism deep inside. Call me corny, but the news that Vanessa Talbot and Brett Loyola had broken up just before spring break had made the last ten days the happiest I’d had since my parents split up. Even flying to Veracruz, courtesy of Papa’s frequent flyer miles, and being introduced to my mother’s boyfriend hadn’t put a dent in it.

Ugh. Okay, I lied. So not going there.

Thinking about Brett now. Dark, romantic eyes. Curly dark hair, cut short because he’s the captain of the rowing team. Broad shoulders. Fabulous clothes he wears as if he doesn’t care where he got them.

Oh, yeah. Much better.

Lost in happy plans for how I’d finally get his attention (I was signing up to be a chem tutor first thing because, let’s face it, he needs me), I pushed open the door to my room and staggered in with my duffel bags.

My hands loosened and I dropped everything with a thud.

There were Vuitton suitcases all over the room. Enough for an entire family. In fact, the trunk was so big you could put a family in it—the kids, at least.

“Close the door, why don’t you?” said a bored British voice, with a barely noticeable roll on the r. A girl stepped out from behind the wardrobe door.

Red hair in an explosion of curls.

Fishnet stockings to here and glossy Louboutin ankle boots.

Blue eyes that grabbed you and made you wonder why she was so . . . not interested in whether you took another breath.

Ever.

How come no one had told me I was getting a roommate? And who could have prepared me for this, anyway?

“Who are you?”

“Mac,” she said, returning to the depths of the wardrobe. Most people would have said, “What’s your name?” back. She didn’t.

“I’m Carly.” Did I feel lame or what?

She looked around the door. “Pleasure. Looks like we’re to be roommates.” Then she went back to hanging things up.

There was no point in restating the obvious. I gathered my scattered brains and tried to remember what Mama had taught me that a good hostess was supposed to do. “Did someone show you where the dining room is? Supper is between five and six-thirty, and I usually—”

“Carrie. I expected my own room,” she said, as if I hadn’t been talking. “Whom do I speak to?”

“It’s Carly. And Ms. Tobin’s the dorm mistress for this floor.”

“Fine. What were you saying about tea?”

I took a breath and remembered that one of us was what my brother calls couth. As opposed to un. “You’re welcome to come with me and my friends if you want.”

Pop! went the latches on the trunk. She threw up the lid and looked at me over the top of it, her reddish eyebrows lifting in amusement.

“Thanks so much. But I’ll pass.”

Okay, even I have my limits. I picked up my duffel, dropped it on the end of my bed, and left her to it. Maybe by the time I got back from tea—er, supper—she’d have convinced Ms. Tobin to give her a room in another dorm.

The way things looked, this chica would probably demand the headmistress’s suite.

* * *

“What a mo guai nuer,” Gillian said over her tortellini and asparagus. “I can’t believe she snubbed you like that.”

“You of all people,” Lissa agreed, “who wouldn’t hurt someone’s feelings for anything.”

“I wanted to—if I could have come up with something scathing.” Lissa looked surprised, as if I’d shocked her. Well, I may not put my feelings out there for everyone to see, like Gillian does, but I’m still entitled to have them. “But you know how you freeze when you realize you’ve just been cut off at the knees?”

“What happened to your knees?” Jeremy Clay put his plate of linguine down and slid in next to Gillian. They traded a smile that made me feel sort of hollow inside—not the way I’d felt after Mac’s little setdown, but . . . like I was missing out on something. Like they had a secret and weren’t telling.

You know what? Feeling sorry for yourself is not the way to start off a term. I smiled at Jeremy. “Nothing. How was your break? Did you get up to New York the way you guys had planned?”

He glanced at Gillian. “Yeah, I did.”

Argh. Men. Never ask them a yes/no question. “And? Did you have fun? Shani said she had a blast after the initial shock.”

Gillian grinned at me. “That’s a nice way of saying that my grandmother scared the stilettos off her. At first. But then Nai-Nai realized Shani could eat anyone under the table, even my brothers, no matter what she put in front of her, so after that they were best friends.”

“My grandmother’s like that, too,” I said, nodding in sympathy. “She thinks I’m too thin, so she’s always making pots of mole and stuff. Little does she know.”

It’s a fact that I have way too much junk in my trunk. Part of the reason my focus is in history, with as many fashion design electives as I can get away with, is that when I make my own clothes, I can drape and cut to accentuate the positive and make people forget that big old negative following me around.

“You aren’t too thin or too fat.” Lissa is a perfect four. She’s also the most loyal friend in the world. “You’re just right. If I had your curves, I’d be a happy woman.”

Time to change the subject. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about my body in front of a guy, even if he belonged to someone else. “So, did you guys get to see Pride and Prejudice—The Musical? Shani said you were bribing someone to get tickets.”

“Close,” Gillian said. “My mom is on the orchestra’s board, so we got seats in the first circle. You’d have loved it. Costume heaven.”

“I would have.” I sighed. “Why did I have to go to Veracruz for spring break? How come I couldn’t have gone to New York, too?”

I hoped I sounded rhetorical. The truth was, there wasn’t any money for trips to New York to see the hottest musical on Broadway with my friends. Or for the clothes to wear once I got there—unless I made them myself.

“That’s it, then.” Gillian waved a grape tomato on the end of her fork. “Next break, you and Lissa are coming to see me. Not in the summer—no one in their right mind stays in the city in July. But at Christmas.”

“Maybe we’ll go to Veracruz,” Lissa suggested. “Or you guys can come to Santa Barbara and I’ll teach you to surf.”

“That sounds perfect,” I said. Either of Lissa’s options wouldn’t cost very much. New York, on the other hand, would. “I like warm places for my winter holidays.”

“Good point,” Gillian conceded. “So do I.”

“Notice how getting through the last term of junior year isn’t even on your radar?” Jeremy asked no one in particular. “It’s all about vacations with you guys.”

“Vacations are our reward,” Gillian informed him. “You have to have something to get you through finals.”

“Right, like you have to worry,” he scoffed, bumping shoulders with her in a chummy way.

“She does,” Lissa said. “She has to get me through finals.”

While everyone laughed, I got up and walked over to the dessert bar. Crème brulée, berry parfaits, and German chocolate cake. You know you’re depressed when even Dining Services’ crème brulée—which puts a dreamy look in the eyes of just about everyone who goes here—doesn’t get you excited.

I had to snap out of it. Thinking about all the things I didn’t have and all the things I couldn’t do would get me precisely nowhere. I had to focus on the good things.

My friends.

How lucky I was to have won the scholarship that got me into Spencer.

And how much luckier I was that in two terms, no one had figured out I was a scholarship kid. Okay, so Gillian is a scholarship kid, too, but her dad is the president of a multinational bank. She thinks it’s funny that he made her practice the piano so hard all those years, and that’s what finally got her away from him. Who is my father? No one. Just a hardworking guy. He was so proud of me when that acceptance letter came that I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was more to succeeding here than filling a minority quota and getting good grades.

Stop it. Just because you can’t flit off to New York to catch a show or order up the latest designs from Fashion Week doesn’t mean your life is trash. Get ahold of your sense of proportion.

I took a berry parfait—blueberries have lots of antioxidants—and turned back to the table just as the dining room doors opened. They seemed to pause in their arc, giving my new roommate plenty of time to stroll through before they practically genuflected closed behind her. She’d changed out of the fishnets into heels and a black sweater tossed over a simple leaf-green dress that absolutely screamed Paris—Rue Cambon, to be exact. Number 31, to be even more exact. Chanel Couture.

My knees nearly buckled with envy.

“Is that Carly’s roommate?” I heard Lissa ask.

Mac seemed completely unaware that everyone in the dining room was watching her as she floated across the floor like a runway model, collected a plate of Portobello mushroom ravioli and salad, and sat at the empty table next to the big window that faced out onto the quad.

Lissa was still gazing at her, puzzled. “I know I’ve seen her before.”

I hardly heard her.

Because not only had the redhead cut into line ahead of Vanessa Talbot, Dani Lavigne, and Emily Overton, she’d also invaded their prime real estate. No one sat at that table unless they’d sacrificed a freshman at midnight, or whatever it was that people had to do to be friends with them.

When Vanessa turned with her plate, I swear I could hear the collective intake of breath as her gaze locked on the stunning interloper sitting with her back to the window, calmly cutting her ravioli with the edge of her fork.

“Uh oh,” Gillian murmured. “Let the games begin.”

© 2008 by Shelley Adina.

Used by permission of the author and Hachette Book Group USA.

Generation G by Marty Norman

2008-12-28T13:47:00.001-06:00

Generation G, by Author Marty Norman, is an excellent book that gives advice for savvy grandmothers. Grandmothers of this generation are different than grandmothers of the past. Things and times have changed. Grandmothers are not like the images we have of them sitting in a rocking chair, in the kitchen with their apron, or sitting on the back porch watching the world go by. Grandmothers of today are active. They travel, teach, preach, have jobs and stay in shape Grandmothers of today are savvy.

Marty Norman writes and gives advice on how a grandmother can reach her grandchildren in a way that is not preaching...but teaches how a grandmother can win them over in wisdom, hope, strength & love. A grandmother has many opportunities to help, teach, play and learn with their grandchildren. The book, Generation G, gives ideas on how to keep in contact with grandchildren that live in another state. This book also gives ideas on family traditions, play times, vacations, etc.

The greatest part about Generation G is that it helps you, the Grandmother, find your own style and footprint that will reach your grandchildren in years to come. As a grandmother, this is a book that I highly recommend. I have taken notes, made plans and have started making my own legacy with my grandchildren. Buy Generation G....it will be one of the best decisions you've ever made.

The Gift of a Home

2008-12-26T10:27:00.008-06:00

When I checked my e-mails this morning, I saw that I had received one from my sister-in-law. The message was titled "You made us feel so welcomed!". I opened it and the message stated that when they walked through our front doors - they felt welcomed. They said they appreciated all the time I had taken to decorate our home for the Christmas season and how they knew any family gathering at our house was one that would be a time filled with fun, there would be plenty of great food, and the pressence of God would be felt.

I don't think I could have received a better compliment. When I invited all of my husband's family over for Christmas Eve, I really only thought that I had the best house for the function. I knew we had enough room to get everyone in and fed comfortably. But I saw that nothing was said about the size of our house, it was what was inside.

So, as I write this morning's devotion, please remember if you have four walls, a roof, and a front door where guests may enter, don't take it for granted. In a world where many are homeless and hungry, a home is a precious treasure, meant to be shared. It can be a castle or a cabin, a townhouse or a tiny apartment. However, large or small, however elegant or plain, if you can call it home, it is a gift. And if those within your walls love each other and love God, you home can be a tiny outpost of Heaven in a reckless world.

My prayer today is you ask people over, pray that everyone will feel at home and loved. Don't invite only those friends you feel comfortable with. Include some who need ministry and some who need friends. Then throw open your doors and watch God work. It is His home!

Marketplace Memos

2008-12-20T11:59:00.003-06:00

Marketplace Memos is a wonderful book written by a father-son team to encourage those that work in business and are under the everyday pressures that come with working in the marketplace.

In a tough economy, this book is excellent and gives encouragement, biblical principles and practical insights to Christians who want to be "Kingdom Catalysts" in the marketplace. Each memo addresses a practical theme, especially written for businesspersons. There are three sections in Marketplace Memos and they are True Riches, Kingdom Business, and Leaving a Legacy. At the end of each memo there is a Scripture for meditation through out the day, a maxim for reflection, a guide for prayer, and a call to action.

This is one that I highly recommend and I cannot wait to give it to my husband as a gift. I know he will be blessed as much as I was. Run out and get your copy!

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card authors are:

David Shibley and Jonathan Shibley

and the book:

Marketplace Memos

New Leaf Publishing Group (October 20, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHORs:

David Shibley is founder and president of Global Advance, a ministry that trains and resources thousands of church and business leaders every year in many of the world's most underserved nations. Having ministered in almost 60 nations, David has a passion to strengthen and encourage national leaders to advance God's kingdom worldwide. David and his wife, Naomi, have two married sons.

Jonathan Shibley serves as vice president of Global Advance. His primary focus is directing the Marketplace Missions program for equipping business leaders in developing nations. He also is engaged in international business. Before joining Global Advance, he earned a business degree from Baylor University and served with Promise Keepers and Teen Mania. Jonathan and his wife, Sarah, have three children.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 13.99

Hardcover: 173 pages

Publisher: New Leaf Publishing Group (October 20, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0892216786

ISBN-13: 978-0892216789

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Giving Living

Years ago, a disgruntled man stormed up to Bob Pierce, founder of World Vision and Samaritan’s Purse, after he heard Dr. Pierce preach. The angry man snarled, “I guess all there is to this Christianity is give, give, give.” Reflecting later on that encounter, Dr. Pierce chuckled, “It just goes to show that even with the wrong spirit a man can get some revelation and truth!”

The often-quoted maxim – “You make a living by what you get, but you make a life by what you give” – is true. Here are seven practical benefits of giving for God’s Kingdom purposes and the fulfilling of the Great Commission.

Your gift goes where you may never go. Your gift is an extension of yourself. You receive money in exchange for your investment of time and life. So when you give for Kingdom purposes, in a real sense you’re giving a part of yourself. Your gift says you want your life to count for what is eternal. Americans are generous, and Christians in America are especially so. There are many legitimate causes, but I don’t know anywhere givers can get more done for the dollar than in giving to world missions.

Giving living loosens the grip of materialism. I noticed a bumper sticker on the back of a sports car that read, “The man who dies with the most toys…wins.” But Jesus taught that the man who dies with the most “toys” is a short-sighted fool. It’s time for us to stop loving cars and clothes and start loving countries! If God so loved the world that He gave His Son, we need to so love the world that we invest in being sure everyone everywhere hears about His Son. I’ve driven through the poverty-drenched streets of Kolkata and the wealth-lined avenues of Beverly Hills. In both environments I saw desperate people. Jesus wasn’t kidding when He warned, “Beware of covetousness because one’s life does not consist in the abundance of things he possesses.” God calls us to embrace biblical prosperity while rejecting materialism. We can do both; we must do both.

You experience the eternal principle of sowing and reaping. Some churches in Africa practice a unique form of church discipline. If a professing Christian is living in sin, he is allowed to come to church, but he is not allowed to give! When the offering place comes to him, the usher places his hand over the plate and prevents him from giving. It is a powerful statement that the blessing of God is literally being prevented from coming to the unrepentant man’s life. It’s an eternal law woven into the very fabric of the universe. Farmers call it the law of sowing and reaping. Scientists refer to it as cause and effect. It’s reinforced throughout the Scriptures. The pattern is clear: you must sow in order to reap.

You lay up treasures in heaven. Jesus taught, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth…but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven…for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” A businessman once approached me and said, “I need more of a heart for missions. What should I do?” I replied, “Write out a $2,500 check for missions and sow it to the harvest, and I promise you, you’ll have more of a heart for missions.”

It just works that way. Where your treasure is (present tense), there your heart will be (future tense). Although “you can’t take it with you,” you can send it on ahead! This very day you can lay up treasures in heaven.

God will supply your every need. Are you ready for a jolt? Philippians 4:19 is not a promise for every Christian. It’s a great verse: “My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” But it is not a carte blanche to be claimed at will by anybody. No, this promise is given exclusively to those who invest in advancing the gospel.

Read the context. Paul told the Philippians they were the only church that had invested to send him on his first missionary journey. As a result of their gift to launch Paul to the nations, he promised that God would supply their every need. Yes, you can claim Philippians 4:19 if you give for the advance of the gospel.

You experience the joy of making a difference in the world. I make no apologies for challenging American Christians to tear loose from some of their money and give it to advance Kingdom causes worldwide. Jesus taught, “To whom much is given, from him much will be required.” With blessing comes accountability. There is a longing inside every true Christ-follower to make a difference for Him. We do not bear sole responsibility for world evangelization, but because of our affluence and influence, we do bear heightened responsibility.

You experience the significance of participating in God’s global purposes. A businessman thanked me for the opportunity to give to Global Advance. He tearfully said, “You give me purpose.” For this man, building his company is not the bottom line. He goes beyond the bottom line to build Christ’s Kingdom through building his company.

You move past mere success to true significance by aligning your life with God’s primary purpose. God’s primary purpose is to see His Son known, loved, and worshiped by redeemed people from every tribe and nation. And you are part of that plan. Live to give.

Remember: “Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.” (Luke 6:38)

Reflect: “What do your offerings say about your heart levels of gratitude and love for God? What does your spending say about what’s truly important on this earth?” – Robert Morris

Pray: That God will make you a joyful giver to His Kingdom causes.

Act: Where is the Holy Spirit directing you to invest for Christ’s Kingdom today?

Assaulted by Joy

2008-12-18T12:04:00.005-06:00

Assaulted By Joy is an uplifting book that gives you confidence that you can live the Christian life. As author, Stephen Simpson, states that a relationship with God can be frustrating and frightening. When one gives their live to God they are usually not told that they will go through trials and tests. But as a Christian we all know that there are hills and valleys we must walk through.

This book, Assaulted By Joy, is a story about the author that gives his life to God at an early age. However, he faces many things as he grows up. The teenage years can be very difficult and even tho he was in a good church he felt alone many times. As Stephen Simpson goes through school, college, career and marriage he remained a Christian, but a cynical one. The definition of a cynic is "A person whose outlook is scornfully and often habitually negative".

When Stephen and wife heard they were going to have quadruplets fear took over them. What if the babies were not born healthy? How would they raise 4 babies? But doing the pregnancy, birth and first year of the babies lives, Stephen learned what true joy is. Learning to submit to God's will was the biggest lesson he learned.

I recommend this book to any man that wonders if he is in God's will or has fear in his life. I believe that after they read this book they would find the joy that Stephen found.

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Stephen Simpson

and the book:

Assaulted by Joy

Zondervan (October 1, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Stephen W. Simpson has a PhD in clinical psychology and an MA in theology from Fuller Theological Seminary. The coauthor of What Wives Wish Their Husbands Knew about Sex, he teaches psychology at Fuller Theological Seminary and also has a private psychotherapy practice. Stephen and his wife, Shelley, live with their four children in Pasadena, California.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 14.99
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (October 1, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310283779
ISBN-13: 978-0310283775

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Introduction: Assaulted by Joy

I’m returning from a four-mile run at 8:30 a.m. on a Friday. A chorus of “Dada!” greets me as soon as I open the door. Hayley looks up at my baseball cap and shouts, “Daddy wear funny hat!” and breaks out laughing. A court jester had replaced the docile little girl of only a few months before.

My wife Shelley scurries past me, carrying a laundry basket.

“Are you ready to take over?” she asks.

“Let me change shirts,” I answer. “I’m pretty sweaty.”

In confirmation of this, Ella points at my shirt and proclaims, “Daddy all wet. Daddy sticky mess!”

“Right you are, El –Belle,” I say, kissing her on the forehead before rushing off to change clothes.

At one year and three months, the children can walk without falling, but they have yet to develop the speed and agility that will turn them into a roaming toddler hit squad. They are coordinated but not dangerous. Thus, we can now care for our children without the assistance of the National Guard. I can even take care of them by myself sometimes, though it isn’t easy. At first, I was petrified whenever Shelley left me alone with the kids. I thought that one wrong move would land somebody in the hospital. Now I’m learning that the stakes aren’t so high. I take one-hour shifts before I go to work in the morning. Friday mornings are the best because I get up early and run first. The exercise wakes me up and elevates my mood. That way, the children get to spend time with their father instead of some monstrosity that needs two cans of Red Bull before he can do more than grunt.

I emerge from my bedroom wearing a clean shirt and a fresh coat of deodorant. As soon as I walk out of the door, my son Jordan barrels into my legs. He stretches out his arms for me to pick him up. He points to the light switch on the wall and shouts, “Lights!” I hold him up to the switch and he flicks it on and off, laughing with delight. When he’s finished, I put him the ground and he bolts down the hallway like he’s running the hundred-yard dash. Jordan regards walking as a poor substitute for sprinting. Since he’s built like a cinderblock, it’s like having a miniature locomotive in our house.

I walk into the living room and see our daughter Emma sitting in the corner playing with big Leggo blocks. I kiss her on the top of her head and she giggles. Then I notice something odd about the Leggos. She isn’t stacking them like she usually does. When I realize what Emma’s doing, I gasp and call Shelley.

My wife, Shelley, darted down the hallway and into the living room. She had a worried look on her face, because I usually only call her when there’s trouble.

“Look at what Emma did,” I say.

Shelley looks. Then she squeals with delight.

“Emma!” she shouts. “You’re so smart! I am so proud of you.”

At only fifteen months of age, Emma has arranged the Leggos according to size and color. One row had large green blocks. The next had small green blocks. Then there was a row of large red blocks, followed by a small red row, and so on.

Shelley gives Emma a hug and Emma basks in her mother’s affection. Then she picks up the blocks and starts making a tower.

I head to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal, but Ella stops me with a large cardboard book in her hands.

“Read book?”

Breakfast can wait.

I sit on the on the ground, put Ella in my lap, and start reading. Ella repeats everything I say. Then someone accosts me from behind. It’s Emma, tickling me and laughing so hard you’d think I was tickling her. No one is safe from a tickling ambush while Emma’s around. I let out a desperate laugh until Emma is satisfied that she’s subdued her father with mirth. I return my attention to Ella and the book, unaware that Hayley is about to take a nosedive off the couch.

Thud.

I jump up, making sure not to topple Ella, and rush over to Hayley. She’s face down on the ground.

“Hayley Rose! Precious, are you okay?”

For a few seconds, she’s silent. Then I hear, “Heh heh heh heh . . .”

I roll her over to find a big, mischievous grin.

“Kaboom!” she shouts.

“You little rascal!” I say and started to tickle her. She rolls around on the floor, squealing with delight.

Hayley’s quiet demeanor during her first few months of life was nothing but an act. She was waiting in the wings, observing her audience before she took center stage. She is now a bona fide ham and the biggest comedian in the family. The sinister thing about this is that she knows how to make her father crack up on cue.

The next thing I know, all my children are on me at once. I submit and collapse to the floor on my back. Everyone crawls on top of me, laughing. They are all trying to put their face on top of mine. I kiss each one of them and they kiss me back, laughing. We frolic around on the floor like this until Shelley, walks in.

“Why aren’t the kids dressed yet?” she asks.

“Because I’ve been waylaid by Lilliputians!” I shout. The tired look on Shelley’s disappears as she shakes her head and smiles.

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize what I see. Where did the angry young man go? Who is this father and husband gazing back at me with crows feet at the corners of his eyes and thin lines on edge of his smile? But then I take a second look and realize that I know him, but it’s been a while since we’ve hung out. He’s reemerging from years of cynicism that are being chiseled away by grace.

You see, I’m a jerk. That’s the first thing you have to understand. The second thing you have to understand is that you probably are too sometimes, and we both enjoy it too much. We get a little tickle inside when someone ignores our advice and screws up as a result. We like shutting down people who get in our way and avoiding people who annoy us. We watch Benny Hinn for entertainment value, congratulating ourselves for being too smart to buy what he’s selling. We disregard people who don’t get our jokes and we don’t suffer fools gladly. We’re not evil or even malicious most of the time – just jerks. We have compassion and love, but it doesn’t take much for us to roll our eyes and mumble something sarcastic under our breath.

I’m probably more of jerk than you are. It drives me nuts if something interferes with my life. I don’t like being bothered and I don’t want any help. If you catch me when I’m in the mood to socialize, you’ll love me. Work with my schedule and I’ll deliver the sun and the moon. Otherwise, I hate being told what to do and I have problems with authority. I’m short-tempered when I’m under stress or in a hurry. I start yelling inside my car when another driver cuts me off. As a bonus, I have Attention Deficit Disorder, which means I get impatient, irritated, and bored faster than normal people do.

I am not the guy you’d pick to be the father of quadruplets. But we’ll get to that later.

I became a Christian when I was seven years old. I always thought my story would be boring because I met Jesus as a child. Turns out I was wrong. The scary and suspenseful stuff happened after I became a Christian. Sometimes, it happened because I was a Christian. In C.S. Lewis’ Surprised by Joy, his conversion to Christianity comes at the end of the book. The first time I read it, I felt a little cheated by the last page when Lewis realizes that he’s a Christian while riding a bus. I wanted to know what happened next. I couldn’t relate to a story that ends with becoming a Christian. In my experience, that’s where the story begins.

When I walked down the aisle of a Baptist church as a boy to receive Christ as my Savior, nobody told me that being a Christian is difficult, dangerous even. That information must have been in the fine print. The way I understood it, the closer you were to God, the happier you would be. The less you sinned and the more you followed God’s Word, the more your life would be meaningful, happy, and complete. In my years as a follower of Christ, however, I’ve discovered that the opposite is often true. Don’t get me wrong—the most ecstatic, victorious moments of my life resulted from having relationship with Jesus, but so have the most aggravating and painful ones. Only now am I learning to live in this tension and discover that it can’t be any other way.

I think most Christians know this, but don’t like to talk about it because such confessions don’t make for the neat, linear success stories that we like to hear. Telling people that being in a relationship with Christ can be maddening and exasperating isn’t effective evangelism. You wouldn’t put it in a tract or a revival brochure. But I wish someone had told me at some point. They didn’t have to tell me when I was seven, but they could have clued me in around age fourteen when my theological roof started to cave in. If they had, maybe it wouldn’t have taken me decades to figure out that a relationship with God involves a lot of scary twists and turns.

If you’ve been a Christian for a while, your relationship with God has probably frustrated and frightened you more than once. Maybe you’ve been confused, angry, or afraid. Maybe nobody told you that was part of the deal when you opened the door of your heart and let Jesus walk in. You also probably didn’t realize that some of your brothers and sisters in Christ were going to drive you insane, doing and saying things you find appalling. It’s hard to live with all that frustration and confusion when you thought that becoming a Christian guaranteed a life of love and peace.

When I discovered that a relationship with Christ wasn’t always warm and fuzzy, I became frightened. Then I got mad. Then I stopped caring. God gave me plenty of opportunities to pursue joy, but cynicism always felt safer. So, instead of offering me joy, he assaulted me with it. When he brought quadruplets to the fight, I had no choice but to shout, “Uncle!” and submit. That’s when the brown and God made the brown, stagnate rivers in my life flow with golden wine. I drank deep and was born again . . . again.

Chapter 1: Rock and Roll Rebel

“There’s no such thing as Christian rock,” said Brother Jeff. “It’s all the devil’s music.” Was he throwing out such inanities just to make me crazy? Did he want me to lose my temper so he could kick me out of youth group?

“How can you say that?” I asked Brother Jeff. “There’s nothing about it in the Bible.”

My words echoed off the white walls and cardboard ceiling tiles. I could hear the neon lights in the ceiling humming from behind foggy Plexiglas panes. Everyone in the junior high youth group sat in tense silence. Some just stared at the faded green carpet, averting their eyes from the conflict. Others slumped down into the old, overstuffed couches, venturing sheepish glances as they clutched throw pillows. Most of my pubescent peers, however, were the edge of their seats, transfixed as the forty year-old associate pastor and I, the fourteen year-old youth group president, tried to bludgeon each other with words.

“Rock roll is the music of rebellion,” said Brother Jeff. “Even if the lyrics are supposedly Christian, the music makes people lustful and contentious.” His mouth was smiling but his eyes were narrow.

“But it doesn’t say that in the Bible!” I shouted. Brother Jeff was wearing me down with edicts that sounded authoritative but made no sense. Every time I presented a reasonable argument, Brother Jeff shot back with something asinine wrapped in a mature, patronizing tone. I was about to pop a blood vessel, but Brother Jeff was as agitated as I was. His face bore a pleasant smile, but the pale, freckled skin beneath his fiery red hair was getting pinker by the second.

“Psalms 98 talks about making all kinds of loud noises before the Lord,” I said. “That sounds a lot like Christian rock to me.”

“You are perverting God’s holy word with that interpretation.”

“I absolutely refuse to accept that,” I said.

“Then you need to ask God for wisdom,” he said with an eerie calm. “You need to respect the leaders God has given you. After God, you must respect and obey your parents. After them, you must respect and obey your church authorities. That means me.”

Then he turned to the rest of the kids and said, “If you don’t believe that rock music makes people rebellious, just look at who’s rebelling.” Then he laughed. I heard somebody in the back whisper, “Oooo . . .”, the universal confirmation that you’ve just received a verbal smack down.

I gritted my teeth and lurched forward. I might have even growled. One of my friends put a hand on my arm and eased me back in my chair. I had lost this battle, but the war was just beginning.

*****

I grew up in Lexington, Kentucky. On the surface, Lexington is about three things: basketball, horses, and shopping centers. Children are breast-fed on the first two. If you meet someone from Lexington whom you find shy and reserved, ask him or her about horseracing or University of Kentucky basketball. You’ll hear more than you ever wanted about Secretariat and Seattle Slew, including their bloodlines and the farms where they were bred and trained. You’ll be informed that Keeneland racetrack is far superior to that tourist slum, Churchill Downs. Want to see a real live nervous breakdown? Just bring up the game winning shot by Duke’s Christian Laettner in the 1992 East Regional Finals of the NCAA tournament. It halted UK’s run to the Final Four and sent the entire state into a coma. That game is the Alamo for Wildcat fans and no one in the Bluegrass State has ever recovered.

The shopping centers you won’t hear about. While I was growing up, Lexington spilled over its borders, swallowing up farms and turning them into parking lots encircled by Wal-Marts, Blockbusters, Payless Shoe Stores, and frozen yogurt bars. Stick an Applebee’s in the middle and you’ve got the building block of Lexington consumerism: the high-fat, middle-class strip mall.

Downtown Lexington, however, stands steadfast amidst the city’s suburban sprawl. Stately stone buildings from the early 20th century line Main Street and Vine in solid indifference to the commercial aspirations of the periphery. The two skyscrapers look like an afterthought, gaudy glass trees in a baroque stone garden. The neighborhoods downtown have housing projects, historic brownstones, and beautiful houses that are eighty years old. Artists, black folks, students, and college professors reside in these, politely ignoring the rest of the city. Attempts to put in chain restaurants or big retail stores usually fail, while small businesses thrive. The best food, the most exotic clothes, and the only art that isn’t a painting of a horse or a sketch of basketball jersey can be found downtown.

The horse farms rest just outside town, where the suburbs surrender to green fields cascading over rolling hills. White and black picked fences create boundaries for the dark, gleaming horses that sustain all this beauty. Majestic barns – more opulent than any house I’ll ever own – sit atop hills like castles of feudal kingdoms. Out there, the culture clash between urban and suburban becomes irrelevant. Out there, you just feel lucky to live in Kentucky.

Though I loved the horse farms and found downtown fascinated and alluring, I was a child of the suburbs. I spent my youth running through manicured subdivisions and shopping centers. The suburbs were also the place where big churches popped up like mushrooms. Evangelical Christianity was the second largest religion in Lexington, right behind basketball. My family attended a mammoth Baptist church that, like many, had moved away from downtown so it could swell and spread on the edge of town. My parents started attending the church because of its large, vital youth program. They wanted my two sisters and I to have a place where we could grow in the love and knowledge of the Lord. And that’s what happened.

When I was seven years old, I began a journey with God that would be the source of more frustration and fear and more joy and wonder than I could imagine. The high school choir had returned from their summer tour to perform a homecoming concert. This was a big deal at my church. The youth choir practiced all year long and toured the country for two weeks every summer. The congregation welcomed them back as conquering heroes and the homecoming concert was one of the major events of the year. There was always a lot of laughing, crying, and hugging, the climax of which was an invitation to receive Christ that went on for at least thirty minutes. We sang “Just as I Am” ten times in a row, the organist doing her best to mix things up as she reached the seventh chorus. But nobody seemed to mind. People, mostly teenagers (some from the choir, even), flocked down front to accept Jesus as their savior.

Despite all the commotion, I was bored and fidgety. I spent most of the concert drawing pictures on the offering envelopes. I drew everything from spaceships to army men to Batman giving the Joker a much deserved beat down. But when the invitation began, something happened. I had feelings I didn’t understand and couldn’t name. Looking back, I’m pretty sure the Holy Spirit was at work. It had to be, because, before the invitation, I was only thinking about when the service would be over. All of a sudden, I felt a strange urge to become closer to God. It wasn’t about salvation or avoiding hell—for a reason I can’t explain, I wanted to graduate to higher level of faith. I wanted that relationship with Jesus that I’d heard so much about.

When I told my parents that I wanted to go down front, they looked surprised. They must have wondered why the fidgety kid defacing church bulletins all of a sudden wanted a religious experience. My mother wore a floral dress with a shiny broach and my father had on sport coat but no tie because it was the evening service. Mom looked at me with her trademark sideways gaze beneath raised eyebrows. When she saw I was serious about going down front, she smiled. Dad leaned in close and said, “Do you understand what this means?”

I nodded my head. He put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

“All right, buddy,” he said. “Go ahead.”

I scurried down front and the pastor took my small hand in his gigantic one. It was red and warm, like my father’s. He asked me if I was certain that I wanted to receive Christ as my Lord and Savior. I told him that I was. He told me to sit up front with one of the deacons until after the service.

After the concert, the pastor took me back to his office. There was shiny wood everywhere and more books than I’d ever seen outside of a library. I sat in a chair that was too big for me and the pastor sat down across from me, leaning in close.

“Do you understand what it means to commit your life to Christ?” he said, his voice deep and rolling. It felt weird to hear him speaking to me alone instead of the whole congregation.

“I think so,” I said. “It means I become a Christian.”

“Yes,” said the pastor. “But that means you ask Jesus to forgive you of your sins and come and live inside your heart forever. Are you ready to do that?”

To my seven year-old brain, having Jesus live inside my heart sounded like just about the coolest thing in the world.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m ready to accept Jesus into my heart.”

The pastor led me in prayer, asking me to repeat after him. When we were finished, he told me that I was a Christian now. He said that I was going to heaven and that God loved me. It felt like I had joined a special club. When I left the pastor’s office, my parents were waiting for me. I started prattling about going to heaven and having Jesus inside my heart. My father said that he was proud. My mother kept asking me what lead me to make this decision. Was it the sermon? The music? But I couldn’t tell her. I just knew that I wanted to become a Christian and now I was one. I was elated

We left church went to Shoney’s. My stomach started to growl at first sight of the twenty foot Big Boy, with his wide-eyed smile and red and white checkered overalls. I got a burger as big as my hand with cheddar cheese dripping down the side, accompanied by fries that were thick and salty. I cleaned my plate and felt good about it. As I got into bed that night, I felt safe, full, and warm.

For the next seven years, I went to church whenever the doors were open. I loved not only the people, but the building itself. It was big, austere, and mysterious. It contained dozens of secret places—kitchens, alcoves, storage closets, baptismal pools, and large meeting halls. I explored every one of them. The building was almost a metaphor for God—large and strong with endless mysteries to investigate.

I also read the Bible constantly and pestered adults with a million of questions about God. I wanted to be involved in everything and adults described me as “wise beyond my years” and “a young Bible scholar.

Now, before you start thinking I was a budding young saint, let me explain the other reason I loved church. I didn’t have many friends at school. I was fat (I weighed more at age 14 than I do right now) with bucked teeth, and the most severe case of acne in the history of Western Civilization. Making matters worse, my pituitary gland went off like a hand grenade at age eleven, dragging me into adolescence two years ahead of my peers. I shot up a dozen inches over my friends, but I didn’t get any thinner. Instead, my acne got worse and I developed body odor. I started shaving with my Dad’s electric razor in sixth grade. This produced a red razor burn across my neck that made me look like I’d been hanging from a noose. Oh yeah, and my eyebrows grew together, creating a uni-brow.

The prepubescent world did not react kindly to a massive, hairy man-child with skin like a leper. Kids called me fatso, pizza face, lard butt, and the like. I hung around other unpopular kids at school, arguing about who would win in a fight between Luke Skywalker and Superman. The only consolation was that nobody tired to beat me up since I was the size of a duplex.

At church, however, things were different. From the time I was ten until I was sixteen, everything at church revolved around two things: The Bible and singing. By the time I was twelve, I knew more about the Bible than most of the adults at the church. During Sunday School and Bible Study, I felt smart and important instead of fat and ugly. When we weren’t studying the Bible, we were in choir practice. Our church had a large, active music ministry and they started asking you to sing not long after you could walk. I’m not Pavarotti or even Barry Manilow, but I sing pretty well. Sometimes I was even asked to fill in for someone in the adult choir if they couldn’t make a Sunday morning. I was singing solos by the time I was thirteen. So, between my Bible IQ and my vocal chords, I almost passed for cool at church.

God had granted me a place to escape the pain of the world outside and fall in love with him. Heaven and earth merged as I studied the Bible and spent every spare minute at church. The people at church took care of me. I loved them, we all loved God, and everyone was happy. The solution to life’s problems could be found in each other, the Bible, and a God who could do anything and save anybody. Life was perfect and I believed it would stay that way for eternity.

I was wrong.

* * *

When I was almost fourteen, my parents and I moved to a new house and they ceded the entire basement to me. My sisters, eleven and fourteen years older, had long since moved away, so there was no competition for space. That basement became my escape from the rest of the world, albeit a very loud one.

By eighth grade, I had constructed a massive stereo system. The components were mismatches from different eras of technology. It was an ugly, hulking thing that leaned forward like some aluminum tower of Piza. But it sounded good. And it was loud. I had four speakers in my den and strung wire under the brown shag carpet to juice up two more in my bedroom. All around the basement, rock and roll spewed forth from trembling woofers behind black mesh screens encased in particleboard.

I had enough music down in that hole to wait out a nuclear winter. When I was a teenager, the digital age was still twenty years away, so I had albums. Stacks of albums. At $7 a pop, my allowance and money from part-time jobs helped me buy four or five records a month. By the time I was sixteen, I had over two hundred rock albums. Old records, new records, imported records, used records, and bootleg records stood in teetering columns around my basement. I spent hours listening to them while gazing in wonder at the artwork on the sleeve and pouring over the liner notes. Whenever my father told me what a waste of money it all was, I just looked at him like he was out of his mind.

The basement’s seclusion from the rest of the house gave me solitude, but the music made it my sanctuary. Music was my elixir, the only other thing than prayer and the Bible that made me feel quiet inside. One night at a party, I saw a girl on whom I had an obsessive crush kissing another guy. I returned home shaking with rage and sadness. But that same night MTV televised a concert that the radio was broadcasting at the same time. This was before every TV in the world offered hi-fi sound, so hearing music from television in stereo over 100 watt speakers seemed like a miracle. And, by a divine stroke, my favorite band was performing: Queen. While not the most morally pure band in the world, their music was amazing. Freddie Mercury pranced around the 20” screen while the speakers hummed to life with the sound of Brian May’s guitar. I knew every song by heart and lip-synced the words, dancing around the room in a hypermasculine imitation of Freddie. By the third song, I had forgotten that nasty kiss. When the concert was over, I went to bed fell into a deep sleep without dreams.

You’d think rock and roll fanaticism wouldn’t go over well in a fundamentalist Baptist church, but that wasn’t the case. Though our leaders had evangelical fervor, they weren’t legalistic. They encouraged us to be obedient to God and were quick to correct us when we got out of line, but they weren’t rigid or heavy-handed. Brother Rob was our youth pastor back then and he was a man of passion and talent. He nurtured everyone’s gifts and took an interest in our lives. On a bus ride once, Brother Rob sat next to me and listened to several Queen songs in a row as I prattled on about the intricacies of the music. He did his best to seem interested, poor guy. He cheered along with everyone else on the bus as I played air guitar during “We Will Rock You,” looking like wooly mammoth having a seizure. Brother Rob and our other leaders were conservative fundamentalists, but, as long as God remained top priority, they didn’t sweat the small stuff.

They even knew how to disagree with me. They expressed concern about some of the music I listened to, like AC/DC (hard to argue with that one), but they always listened to my perspective. One year, our church went through the inevitable “spinning records backwards to unmask the devil” phase. I watched in horror as beloved leaders spun records backwards and told us that the resulting gobbledygook said things about worshipping the devil. Though it drove me nuts, it was also one of the most exciting times I had in church because my leaders allowed me to debate them. They let me lead an entire youth meeting providing an alternative perspective on rock and roll and all this back-masking nonsense. They didn’t always agree with me, but they respected my right to challenge them. They let me play almost anything I wanted to on summer mission trips as long as the lyrics weren’t too sketchy. And I could play Christian rock all day long. The music might sound like someone murdering cats with chainsaws, but as long as the lyrics were about Jesus, they didn’t care.

But Brother Jeff cared. He cared a lot.

Brother Jeff became the associate pastor of my church when I was in the eighth grade. In addition to his administrative duties, he was in charge of the youth program. On his first day, the youth and their parents gathered in the gymnasium to meet him.

The senior pastor walked in to the gym escorting the thinnest adult male I had ever seen. He had a comical head of curly red, almost orange, hair. His freckles gave the rest of his skin a similar orangish glow. He looked like a carrot.

“God bless you,” said Jeff the Carrot. “I have been praying for this church, praying that God will guide me and continue his great work with the young people of this congregation.” He talked for over an hour in a nasal southern drawl about his vision for the youth program. He told us “God’s gonna do this” and “God’s gonna do that” and “God’s gonna bless y’all.” I still knew next to nothing about Jeff except that he looked like a carrot in a red clown wig that talked like it was yanked out of the dirt somewhere in South Georgia. The only relevant thing he told us was that the youth were allowed to call him by his first name. How magnanimous.

The adults asked questions first. “What is your vision for our youth ministry?” “What are your outreach plans?” “What’s your philosophy on Biblical teachings for teens?” Blah, blah, blah. No one in the room under twenty cared about any of this. The “young people” only cared about one thing. Could we hang out with this guy? Was he cool? I don’t mean “cool” like hip or even youthful. Nothing is more embarrassing than an old guy trying to act young. We wanted to know if he was someone we could trust. I took it upon myself to find out.

I raised my hand and the senior pastor recognized me.

“What’s your favorite Christian rock band?”

Though a silly question, I wanted to give Brother Jeff an easy way to connect with the youth in the room. The question got a few chuckles, which lighten the mood in the room.

But Brother Jeff did anything but laugh or connect with the youth. He breathed a heavy, affected sigh and rolled his eyes toward the heavens.

“Stephen, or is it Stevie?” he asked without waiting for the answer. “I’m afraid you might not care for my answer, which saddens me. But ultimately I answer to God and not to you or any of you other wonderful young people. My answer to your question is this: None. I think Christian rock is an abomination of all the other wonderful music that God has given us. Those rancid screeching guitars and that horrid pounding beat are, I believe, unleashed from the pit of hell. I despise Christian rock. Secular rock is worse, of course. I will abide none of it on my watch. No form of rock music will be played at any of our activities.”

He looked me in the eye and said, “I’m sorry”

My stomach lurched upward as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

Jeff inundated us with a whole new list of prohibitions, ones of which I had never heard nor imagined despite years of fundamentalist religion: no card playing (a sure-fire gateway to gambling), no ghost stories (a guaranteed way to conjure demons), no celebration of Halloween (more demons), and no movies unless they were rated “G.” He also forbade us to wear shorts, even though our mission trips visited states such as Georgia and Louisiana in the middle of August on a bus with no air conditioning. When I heard that, I could contain myself no longer. Without raising my hand I blurted out, “No shorts on our summer mission trips? The bus has no air-conditioning. We’ll all melt. And we’ll stink!”

That got a lot of laughs, but His Carrotness didn’t back down.

“I know it will be uncomfortable. But that’s nothing compared to the discomfort Christ experienced dying for our sins. Our mission trips will be the most important time for us to set an example to the pagan world and we will not be wearing shorts.”

A low whistle of amazement came from the back of the gym. Jeff’s eyes darted around looking for the culprit before he regained his composure and flashed an ultra-white smile.

No one asked any more questions after that. The senior pastor smiled and said something about us having plenty of time to get to know each other. He said it like it was a good thing.

I thought I was going to puke right on the gym floor. I had fought a long and hard battle for rock and roll at my church and finally gotten my mentors to listen. Now some guy shows up and, with a wave of his hand, banishes all music featuring guitars that plugged in, along with all other benign comforts of the flesh. I was in the middle of a bad dream.

Most teenagers would have stopped coming to youth group or just paid lip service to the new rules and gone about the time-honored practice of rebelling in secret. But not me. I declared war. This was my church. Church was the only place where I felt safe, understood, and respected. It was the only place I had fun. Now some dogmatic cleric was trying to ruin it for me. Over my dead body.

Poor Brother Jeff had no idea who he was up against. In a Southern Baptist Church, the Bible is the litmus test for everything. Ever since I’d walked down the aisle at age seven and taken the pastor’s hand, I’d been reading the Bible. I didn’t just listen to what my teachers told me about the Bible in Sunday school, I studied the thing. By age thirteen, I’d read the entire Bible (well, almost—I got the K.O. from Numbers in Chapter Three). I knew that Biblical support for Brother Jeff’s list of “don’ts” was thin at best and I wielded the word like a sword in our theological debates. I was certain that my knowledge of scripture would help me triumph over this new regime of the absurd.

I debated Jeff steadily for the next year, always using what I regarded as solid Biblical arguments. I prayed for him and for our church. I did my best to be a good example and a solid leader so that my disagreements with Jeff didn’t look like reckless defiance. I tangled with Jeff in public, in private, and in writing. I fought my war with prayerful diligence and refused to back down. For a long time, I thought I was winning. There was no way that this man could continue imposing ridiculous rules that were Biblically unsound, not to mention wildly unpopular. Well, at least they were unpopular at first . . .

One day I was talking to another guy in the youth group whom I liked and respected. He was a couple of years older and I’d always considered him cool. He was had introduced me to Christian rock, telling me about bands like Petra and Servant. We went to Christian rock concerts together and danced and sang and went bananas in the name of the Lord.

One day I commiserated with him, “It’s not right that Brother Jeff won’t let us listen to Christian rock.”

“There’s no such thing as Christian rock,” he said with a blank expression. “It’s all of the devil.” He didn’t elaborate, just looked at me in mute finality. I didn’t say anything because, in that moment, I realized that there was nothing to say. It didn’t matter if I was right or wrong about rock music, wearing shorts, playing cards, or whether the earth was round or flat. My friend’s mind was made up. The validity of my arguments was irrelevant. Brother Jeff had given an edict and my friend accepted it without question.

For the first time in my life, I felt nervous and alone at church. That might not have been so bad if I didn’t feel nervous and alone every place else.

* * *

On the first day of school in ninth grade, a cute girl cute called me “piggy” without provocation. I gave her a dirty look, but that night I lay in bed crying. Jeff had invaded my last safe haven, abandoning me to a place where pretty girls likened me to swine. Life couldn’t continue like this. Drastic times called for drastic measures.

First, I started taking the medication Acutane, a drug that eliminates acne with the gentleness of atomic radiation. I endured nausea, headaches, nosebleeds, and wisps of hair falling out until the medication ran its course and my face no longer resembled a map of the Himalayas. Next, I lost weight. I dropped fifty pounds in six months. Despite my girth, I’d always been strong and athletic. I could outrun kids half my size, and I could bench press 200 pounds by age fourteen. I lost weight mainly through running long distances and cutting out sweets. As a result, I lost more fat than I did muscle. By the last day of ninth grade, I had changed from an acne-covered behemoth into lean, muscular jock with unblemished skin.

That summer, I went to a Christian camp with one of my friends from church named Gordon Green. Gordy was a stud. He was good looking, smooth, and had no trouble with the ladies. On our first night at camp, Gordon spotted a brunette he found attractive. He dispatched one of our female friends to inform the young lady of his affections and ascertain her level of interest in him. Ten minutes later, our friend returned with the verdict.

“So, does she like me?”

“She says that you’re cute,” the emissary replied as a Casanova grin spread across Gordon’s face.

“But she thinks Steve is cuter.”

Gordon was speechless; I was thunderstruck.

“Could you repeat that?” I said, partly because I wanted to make sure I heard her right, but mostly because I just wanted to hear it again.

Despite the nice ego boost, I entered high school in the fall with my head down. I looked different but I still didn’t have many friends. The first day of high school is hard for anyone, but going through it alone is anxious drudgery. I zipped through the hallways avoiding eye contact with everyone. On my way to second period, someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“Lookin’ good, Simpson. Looks like you’ll be ready to wrestle this year,” said Mac Wood, a senior on the wrestling team with me. That was the first time he’d said anything nice to me.

“Thanks,” I said, wondering if I was supposed to say something cocky or funny instead.

“See you in practice,” he said and disappeared.

In third period Biology, a popular member of the football team took a seat next to me.

At lunch I sat down alone, but my friend Bill asked me to sit with him and four of his friends who’d never talked to me before. Later that week, we all played basketball at Bill’s house. By Christmas, we were sitting together on the bus. By springtime, we were hanging out over the weekend.

It was surreal. I figured that losing pounds and zits would make things easier I didn’t know that it would make me need church a whole lot less.

* * *

In March of my tenth grade year, I told my mother that I didn’t want to go to youth group anymore. She said that she didn’t care; I was going anyway.

“You don’t forsake the Body of Christ just because you don’t like one it’s parts. Is Jesus still the most important thing in your life?”

“Yes, mom,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Following him isn’t always easy. Sometimes we have to show Christ’s love to people we don’t like.”

I knew she was right, but I didn’t like it. My father’s take on the situation made sticking with church a little easier.

“If you think Brother Jeff is wrong, you need to stick to your guns. If you leave youth group, that means he wins. You’ve let him chase you off. Stick around and stand up for what you believe.

Now that I could do, though perhaps not in the way Dad imagined.

That summer, I went on the youth mission trip as I had every year. Since Brother Jeff wouldn’t let us wear shorts, I boarded the bus wearing mesh, see-through sweat pants over my shorts, obeying the letter of the law while gleefully defying the spirit. When Jeff saw me, he just shook his head, frustrated but impotent because I’d conformed to his rules. I whispered ghost stories to the other kids just because it wasn’t allowed. I organized card games at the back of the bus. Whenever Brother Jeff wandered back, we’d chuck the Jacks and Queens, whip out a deck of Uno, and beam at him like little cherubs. But the real coup de tat was smuggling rock and roll onto the bus.

I stuffed a bunch of socks with cassette tapes and hid them in the bottom of my luggage. Thus, the 1985 youth mission trip rolled out of town carrying every album by Queen and U2, along with a strong sampling of The Who, The Clash, Rush, Van Halen, and anything else that sounded like something Brother Jeff would hate. My buddy Gordon was the only person I told about it, which turned out to be a big mistake.

After eating lunch at a Cracker Barrell, we got back on the bus and discovered Gordon sitting in my seat holding my boom box. Ozzy Osbourne’s “Revelation Mother Earth” blasted out of the speakers at about 5,000 decibels. One of the adult volunteers told Gordon to turn it off. Gordon protested, saying that he thought the music sounded awesome. I shot Gordon a look that said, “I am going to kill you with my bare hands.” He turned the music off and apologized. Gordon didn’t rat me out, but he didn’t have to. It wasn’t hard for anyone to figure out who snuck Ozzy on bus.

When Brother Jeff found out, he gave me a look of contempt … and nothing more. I expected dire consequences, confiscation of my tapes at the minimum. But he didn’t do anything.

The next day, we had three hours to wander around in Jefferson City, Missouri. The place was filled with novelty shops, theme restaurants, and other attractions that teenagers live for. They also happened to have a palm reader, which piqued my interest.

At a Cub Scout Halloween party in second grade, somebody’s mom dressed up like a gypsy and read our palms. The whole thing was a joke, but the palm reader said something that stuck with me. She said I was going to marry a girl named Jenny. It just so happened that I’d had a crush on a girl named Jenny since seventh grade. Jenny was with me that day in Jefferson City as we passed a palm reader’s hut adorned with flashing astrological symbols.

I had told Jenny about the palm reader back was when I’d been fat and ugly. That was when she’d told me she liked me, “as a friend,” the label that every adolescent suitor regards as a curse. But things were different now. Jenny had been flirting with me lately. Maybe it was time to reintroduce the subject.

“Hey, Jenny, remember the story I told you about that palm reader saying I would marry a girl named Jenny,” I said, pointing to the palm reader’s hut.

Jenny flashed a feline grin and said, “I remember. Maybe you should get a second opinion.”

I needed nothing more. Without a second thought, I ducked in to the palm reader’s lair.

Five minutes later and five dollars poorer, I had no new information regarding the name of my bride to be. (For the record, my wife’s name is not Jenny and her parents never even considered that name.) I laughed it off as confirmation that palm reading was a bunch of hooey.

Since I have a big mouth, I told half a dozen people about the palm reader. Someone tattled. At our next stop, Brother Jeff and one of the volunteers cornered me. They took me into the sanctuary of the church that was putting us up for the night. Brother Jeff suggested we sit in the choir loft. It felt like being in the penalty box at a hockey game.

“Steve, the fact that you went to a palm reader grieves me, but I hate to say that I’m not surprised,” began Brother Jeff as the volunteer frowned and nodded in agreement. “I have sensed this sort of lawlessness in you from the first time we met almost three years ago. In those three years, things seem to have only gotten worse. What on earth gave you the notion of going to a palm reader?”

I told him the story about the gypsy at Cub Scouts and Jenny. I didn’t want to, but I thought Jeff would cut me some slack if I humiliated myself.

Jeff furrowed his brow and nodded.

“It’s all starting to make sense now. If you went to a palm reader in Cub Scouts, that would have opened you to demonic influence at a vulnerable age. That’s probably the reason you’re so obsessed with rock music. It explains your contentious nature.”

That just made me mad. I forgot about trying to get out of this unscathed.

“I told you that the palm reader at Cub Scouts was just a joke. I went to the palm reader today just as a stunt to impress Jenny. I promise you, Jeff, no demons were involved.”

“The Prince of Lies wants you to think that.”

I rolled my eyes. Bad move.

“You might not care about your own spiritual welfare, but I care about this youth group. You have opened the whole youth group to demonic oppression through this act. We have to intervene with prayer.”

So far Jeff had said nothing about calling my parents or sending me home. My worst fear was that he would make my parents come and take me home. This would result in nothing less than being thrown in a dungeon and forced to eat spiders until I was forty-five. So when Jeff told me that all he wanted to do is pray, my insides broke into applause. I let prudence prevail.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s pray.”

We bowed our heads. Jeff and the volunteer were silent for a few seconds. Then they started doing that humming thing. Not speaking in tongues, just a lot of “Hmm . . . yes, lord . . .” When Jeff finally started to form complete sentences, I thought it might have been better to be sent home.

“Demon of divination, demon of rebellion, demon of contentiousness . . .”

Was he talking to me? I hoped that he was just using hyperbole and not-

“We cast you out of Stephen in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost and by the power of the blood of the Lamb.”

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

“Dear Jesus we ask that, through the power of your precious blood, you release Stephen from demonic oppression and set him upon a righteous path. Bring him back into your glorious light and renew his heart and mind. Please build a hedge around this youth group. Send your angels to protect us from any demonic influence that this palm reader may have introduced.”

The volunteer said “Hmmm . . .” so many times that he sounded like a bathroom fan. I was trying not to scream, “Are you out of your mind?” at the top of my lungs. But, since I didn’t want go get pinned me to the floor and doused with Holy Water, I started saying my own silent prayer instead.

This is stupid, Lord. You know that I don’t have any demons inside me. I’m sorry for doing something wrong to impress a girl. I thought of it as a joke but I should have been more serious. But demons? You gotta be kidding me! I’ll tell you what, God. If I really am under demonic influence, make that clear to me right now. Give me a sign and I’ll go with this. I ask it in Jesus name.

I felt nothing. No physical, spiritual, or emotional signs that I was possessed. I felt convicted over committing a sin. I even felt bad about upsetting Brother Jeff. Other than that, nothing. I stopped praying and returned my attention to Jeff, who was still casting out demons.

Something started to freeze inside me. My anger drained away, replaced by cool apathy. I no longer wanted to debate Jeff. I didn’t even want to rebel against him. The absurdity of what was happening was too much. There was no way to change Jeff’s mind. The only sensible thing to do was stop caring.

* * *

In that moment, a cynic was born, but it’s not Brother Jeff’s fault. It’s mine.

I chose to handle my anger and pain by killing off the passion that created it. I had my nice, safe little Christian world and I threw a fit when someone changed things. I couldn’t handle it when I didn’t get my way. I couldn’t accept the fact things weren’t perfect anymore, so I made Brother Jeff the enemy. For years, well into adulthood, I imagined Brother Jeff as an evil despot who stomped on a vibrant faith with legalistic oppression. That’s what cynicism does—it splits the truth in half. In your preoccupation with the things that hurt you, you forget the things that nurtured you.

Cynicism begins as passion. This is especially true for Christians who fall in love with Jesus when they’re young. We give our lives to something beautiful and pure, believing that it will never be tarnished. We embrace our church and the warmth and love of its people. We experience spiritual highs that set us ablaze with fervor for Christ. We want to tell other people in hopes that discover this same joy. We pray, study the Bible, and become enraptured by our relationship with God and his church. For a little while, it’s like walking in Eden with God.

Then a serpent shows up and tells us about a fruit that will make us smarter. In a moment of selfishness and fear, we take a bite. Then everything changes. We see that the leaders we idealize are flawed and broken. We look around the garden and see hypocrisy and deceit. We see people twisting our beloved Scripture to bully people who disagree with them. People we love and trust hurt us, sometimes through malice, but more often weakness. Our peaceful, perfect garden becomes a forest filled with monsters, and we flee.

Beneath the surly and sarcastic exterior of a cynic lies a broken heart. Most cynics once believed in something with all their heart and mind. Then that same thing causes pain and disappointment. It’s so terrible that we vow never to let it happen again. We stop trusting, We suspect anyone who proclaims simple truths. We think that pat answers are for suckers, because we’ve been the sucker before. So we stop going to church or, if we do, we don’t get involved. We don’t just question religious authority, we mock it. We refuse to be vulnerable and embrace the love we once knew because we’re terrified that it will leave us again.

Oscar Wilde wrote,“A cynic is someone who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” A cynic can tell you all about the painful cost of religion, but they no longer know the joy of depending on God and others. After I became a cynic, I still longed for the passion I once felt, but I refused to be fooled again. I refused to be hurt again.

The story about Brother Jeff is one-sided. I told the truth, but it was the cynical truth. I didn’t lie, but I didn’t tell you the whole story. I left out something really important, because it’s painful to think about: Brother Jeff loved me.

For years I imagined that our former leader, Brother Rob, was the one really cared for me. That’s not true. Brother Rob was great, but Jeff nurtured me more. Yes, we fought a lot, but Jeff took an incredible interest in my life. He was legalistic and stubborn, but there is no question that he cared about me. We didn’t always argue. We would talk about God, the Bible, or just chew the fat about topics that didn’t lead to an argument. Even when were fighting, Jeff invested time and energy in my life. The guy spent hours of his personal time debating a pimple-faced punk about music.

The guy was also a Bible scholar. He taught us things about early Christian history, Greek, and Hebrew that helped me see the Bible in the whole new light. He could give rousing, sincere sermons that inspired and convicted. Despite my anger at Brother Jeff’s rules, my knowledge and love of the Lord grew under his leadership.

And the guy was funny. He was a great practical joker with a lightening fast wit. He was open and gregarious most of the time. He even made fun of his appearance, saying that his red hair and freckled skin made him look like a reject from the Partridge Family. He could be cocky, but he could also show humility and confess his sins. For years, I didn’t allow myself to remember that. The cynic could never admit that his enemy was so friendly and so much fun. I was too busy judging him. In other words, I was too busy sinning against him.

I stopped going to youth group after the palm-reading/exorcism incident. I still attended Sunday morning services because my mother would have shaved her head otherwise. Then, in the spring of my junior year, I visited Methodist church down the road because a cute girl invited me. The youth group was almost identical to my old one—passionately evangelical, active, big choir, summer trips—except for Jeff’s rules. I got to listen to all the rock and roll I wanted, wear shorts, play cards, and nobody tried to pluck any demons out of me. My new youth pastor, Allen, was a wise and gentle mentor. He got past my suspicions, helped me assimilate into my new group, and became a trusted friend. He was exactly the kind of tender, listening leader that I needed to help me recover from the pain of losing the church of my childhood.

But I hadn’t heard the last of Brother Jeff. The summer between my junior and senior year, I got a letter from him, though I hadn’t seen him in months. In the letter, Brother Jeff asked me to return to youth group. His words bore no condemnation or judgment. He just said that things weren’t the same without me and he wanted me to come back. He invited me to go on the summer mission trip. He wrote, “Just call me up and say, ‘Jeff, I’m going.’ You don’t have to say anything more than that and you’ll be welcome to come. Otherwise, who’s going to ask the tough questions? Who’s going to keep me in line?”

Who’s going to keep me in line? This maniac was inviting the very thing that I thought he hated about me?

Jeff, I’m going. That’s all have to say? After so much strife, three words will set things right again?

Despite Jeff’s vulnerability and courage, his words rolled off me. I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t tolerate the idea that I was important to him. I couldn’t believe that I’d impacted his life. He drove me crazy, but he cared enough about me that I drove him crazy, too. That’s danger of passion. The things we love, the things that bring us the most joy, make us crazy. Whether it’s God, a person, a church, or a cause, to love something is to sacrifice peace. The world and all the people in it are broken. Love cannot exist without pain. I think this is what Jesus meant when he said, “I came not to bring peace but the sword” (Matthew 10:34). I doubt that he was war mongering or undercutting pacifism. Maybe he meant giving your life to something results in strife. You cannot have passion for something and be free from pain.

This was a lesson I would not learn for a very long time. I’m still not sure I get it. God’s tried to teach me again and again, but I have difficulty accepting it. But I’ve got to get used to it, because the other option is despair. It’s the way of the cynic, who sneers and makes a stone of his heart because passion is too dangerous. Being a Christian is supposed to be dangerous. It means being vulnerable, taking risks, and having communities of imperfect people. It means leaving our comfort zone and kissing it goodbye forever. Being a Christian means exchanging comfort for something so much better: joy. Comfort is nothing more than a lack of pain and aggravation. It’s about what isn’t there instead of what is. Joy comes from passion, love, and commitment to something and Someone bigger than you. Passion, love, and commitment come at a price (just ask Jesus), but it’s a price worth paying, because God’s joy provides a sense of meaning and a depth of feeling you can’t get any other way.

I never wrote Jeff back and I never saw him again. Caring was too difficult, so I stopped. I wasn’t willing to walk the dangerous path that leads to joy

What Is Your Issue?

2008-12-17T17:39:00.001-06:00

I was late reading my Bible and doing my devotion today. I picked up a magazine that was titled "What Is Your Issue". Wow, that is a loaded questions. How many times have we had our feelings hurt for no reason? How many times have we thought someone said something that they really did not? How many times do we have a medical problem that we are tired of...however, have not given it up to the Lord?

We all remember the woman in Mark 5 who is now famouse because Jesus healed her and did what no doctor had been able to do: stop the issue of blood that had plagued her for 12 long years. The woman had a physical issue that desperately needed to be removed from her life. Finding the answer to her problem had become so important to her that she was willing to step out of her comfort zone in order to receive the help she needed.

Do you have an "issue" that needs to be removed from your life? The Bible says that God has a wonderful plan and future for His children (Jer. 29:11), but before you can fulfill His plan, you must be willing to get rid of your issues.

How can you get rid of the issues that hold you back from the future God has for you?

1) You must face your issue.
2) Don't cover up the issue.
3) Don't be afraid to share your issue with someone who can help.
4) Reach out to the Lord--He can set you free from your issue!
5) You must press in with determination if you're going to be set free from
your issue.

When the woman with the issue of blood heard about Jesus, she was determined to do something about her issue.l Pressing through a large crowd of people, she touched the hem of Jesus' garment and was set free from the issue that had her bound!

No matter what your "issues" are today, you can have victory over them through the Lord Jesus Christ. Why don't you reach out to the Lord right now and let Him set you free from your issues!

(Taken from Word of Faith Magazine...Lynette Hagin...December, 2008 Issue)

It's Your Call

2008-12-11T12:12:00.001-06:00

“It’s Your Call” is a book that will help one overcome their most difficult challenges. This book will help you recognize God’s call on your life and it will also be easier for you to see things from his perspective. Author, Lawrence Powell, gives seven simple ways outlined in this book that will help one fulfill their life’s purpose.
They are: 1) Face It, You’re the one for the job! 2) Get past your past 3) Lose the weight 4) Take the heat 5) Keep on keepin’ on 6) Stay connected & 7) Get out of the boat.
This book is filled with Biblical wisdom, wit and personal anecdotes of Lawrence Powell’s amazing life that helps readers discover the secrets to reaching new heights of success and productivity in their ministry, business, and personal life. After reading this book, you will never have to question again your significance, or whether God wants to use you.

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Lawrence Powell

and the book:

It’s Your Call

Yorkshire Publishing; 1st edition (September 5, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lawrence Powell is Pastor of Agape Family Worship Center in Rahway, New Jersey; a multi-ethnic ministry, that is home to thousands throughout the Tri-state region. In partnership with Oral Roberts University, he is also founder of Pneuma Life School of Ministry, an accredited teaching and training institute, equipping Christian men and women for missions, outreach, and church planting. Powell is a much sought-after speaker and respected Biblical teacher. He holds a Bachelor’s degree from Rutgers University and a Master’s degree from Oral Roberts University. He resides in New Jersey with his wife Vanessa, and their three lovely children.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 19.99
Hardcover: 208 pages
Publisher: Yorkshire Publishing; 1st edition (September 5, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0881442917
ISBN-13: 978-0881442915

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Face it. You’re the One for the Job!

“Not called” did you say? “Not heard the call,” I think you should say.

~ William Booth Founder of the Salvation Army

It was a clear sunny day and I could not have been any more than about 5 or 6 years old. I was out in the backyard playing alone in the warm summer breeze. I do not remember why I was alone, but if you ask my mother, she will say that my sister and I used to get into petty squabbles. Our peaceful times of playfulness would somehow decline into: No! Stop! Move! Get off! Mine! Ouch! Mommy! And then, we were separated…for safety purposes of course.

This particular day in the backyard was probably no different.

I had an active imagination and I did not really mind playing alone. My “imaginary friends” and I climbed onto my little blue and white, double-seat glider swing set, and I had a captive audience.

That day I was performing live in concert, making up one song after another. As I was belting out my original tunes underneath the midday blue sky, I remember hearing myself repeatedly singing these simple lyrics: “Nobody knows me well like the Lord.” Now, at the time, I did not realize the profundity of the words. After all, I was just a kid. But somehow, I remember the lyrics so vividly. As I sat there on that swing, I began to sense the presence of the Lord. Everything grew quiet and still, and then, something peculiar happened. The heavens opened up and I heard a voice from heaven saying, “This is my Beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased!” No, no, no…I’m sorry, wrong story. That was Jesus.

No, really, I did have an unexplainable encounter with the Lord that day. It was like the old saints used to say, “Somethin’ got a hold of me.” It reminds me of the Old Testament story of the young prophet Samuel. God called him long before he knew how to distinctly recognize and respond to the voice of God (1 Samuel 3:4-9). Reflecting on that moment in the backyard, I know now with a surety, the Spirit of God was depositing a seed in me, predestined to bloom at a future time.

Encountering God

I grew up in and around the church, but early on I did not have a clear understanding of God. And I certainly was not aware that I had been divinely selected to touch nations with the message of the Gospel. But by degrees, the Holy Spirit would beckon me more and more, and over the years I came to know His voice better. I wonder, do you remember when you first sensed the majesty, power, and call of God on your life? Where were you? What were you doing? You may not have understood it at the time, and if someone asked you to explain it, you would not have been able to put into words the depth of the encounter.

It is similar to the blind man in the book of St John, who was challenged regarding the healing he received from Jesus. Although he could not explain the experience well enough to satisfy his detractors, his response was simple yet profound. “One thing I know: that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9:25b NKJV). After all these years, I’ve still not found words to sufficiently express the awesomeness of an authentic God-encounter. But one thing I know, though I was blind, now I see. Take this opportunity to reflect on the moment God began to open your eyes. Remember how you felt? Now softly thank Him for altering the very course of your existence.

His presence changes you, doesn’t it? Of course it does. Any true visitation from God alters the way you see, think, and experience the world. Although the full revelation of His will does not happen immediately, once He deposits His purpose in your heart, you will never be the same again. For me, it was a process that occurred over time. I had to grow, learn, and mature before I could begin fulfilling the call of God on my life. The same is true for you. Don’t be discouraged just because you are unable to fully grasp His purpose and plan for your life right now. All you need to know is He has one.

You may not feel that you have a specific calling, and yet, you do. Or, you may not feel like you’re qualified, and experienced enough to do what He’s chosen you for, but don’t worry. He will provide you with everything you need to fulfill your life’s purpose.

Perceive the Call of God

There is a story found in Mark 8:23–25 about a blind man in Bethsaida, who was brought to Jesus by a group of people. They were begging on his behalf for healing. Jesus took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the town, much the way He leads you and me. He takes us by the hand when we cannot see our way clearly. That’s one thing I love about our God. He will never leave you alone, groping in darkness. He will always be there for you.

Jesus began the process of opening this blind man’s eyes. The Bible says, “And when He had spit on his eyes and put His hands on him, He asked him if he saw anything. And he looked up and said, ‘I see men like trees, walking’” (8:23b–24 NKJV).

It’s important to recognize that there was nothing lacking in Jesus’ power, only in the man’s perspective. The very first time Jesus touched him, he miraculously received his sight. Now, Jesus had to clarify his perspective.

Sometimes, God is dealing with you and showing you things, yet, you don’t possess a clear view of His vision for your life. But if you stay in God’s presence, He will reveal His will to you. Like this blind man, your vision may be clarified in gradual stages; nevertheless, God will complete the work He has begun in you. Look at what happens in the story. “Then He put His hands on his eyes again, and made him look up. And he was restored and saw everyone clearly” (8:25 NKJV). I speak victory over your life today and declare that, if you can look up with eyes of faith, God will cause you to see what you were not able to see before!

God wants you to recognize His call on your life and begin viewing things from His perspective. Are you ready? Let’s continue along the path to perceiving and understanding your calling more clearly.

As you embark upon your own journey, remember to keep your focus fixed on Jesus, the author and finisher of your faith (Hebrews 12:2). Only He can show you who you really are. I’m not saying that there aren’t valuable books, trainings, and other resources available to assist you in enhancing your life in some way. In fact, I encourage you to be a life-long learner and seek out practical tools to help you grow and advance. Be aware though; you cannot depend upon self-help books, advice columns, and the well-meaning opinions of close friends and family members, to help you understand and fulfill your Divine calling.

Outside of God, there is no real revelation of truth. His purpose and plan is the only one that will help you live the abundant life He intends for every believer. You may wonder how can you begin truly understanding your purpose and calling. There is a clue found in the book of Ephesians 1:11. The word “purpose” in this passage of Scripture is the Greek word “prothesis,” meaning “to lay out beforehand,” much like the blueprint of a building. Thus, it conveys the exciting idea that your life has been designed with forethought, predetermination, and deliberate intention. (See also Ephesians

2:19–22.) Isn’t that wonderful to know you are no accident? You are not here by happenstance.

The Lord, the Master Architect, has created you with a specific plan in mind. No one else understands the intricacies of your design quite like the One who created the blueprint. This is precisely why positive thinking, dreaming, goal-setting, planning, and networking, without God is grossly overestimated. Remember, “Except the LORD build the house, they labor in vain that build it” (Psalm 127:1a).

Time in His Presence

God is the only legitimate source for discovering your purpose and calling. As you come honestly and humbly before the Father in pursuit of His will for your life, the Spirit will teach you all you need to know. Paul prayed to this end, “that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give to you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him, the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that you may know the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints” (Ephesians 1:17–18 NKJV). Please understand—the wisdom and revelation for which Paul prayed only comes through time spent in the presence of the Lord.

The more you are in His presence, the more you learn His voice. The more you learn His voice, the more you understand His will. As you grow in your understanding of God’s Word, you will begin walking out the steps He has ordered for you before the foundation of the world. You indeed have a set path and it’s your job to seek God for direction. This is something I learned early on in my personal pilgrimage. “Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water, But a man of understanding will draw it out” (Proverbs 20:5 NKJV).

Growing up in the church, I remember having a sincere desire to understand the concept of spirituality and what role it played in my life. As I matured, I moved from mere curiosity to genuine interest, and finally, to a deep longing to know God more intimately. Having said that, allow me a moment of transparency. In all honesty, it was the tyranny of my “Dear Mother” that kept me in church every time the doors opened. No, I’m kidding…well, half kidding.

In the Pentecostal church I grew up in, Sunday service was an all day affair. The old saints used to sing a song that said, “Put yo’ time in. Pay day is comin’ after while.” And on Sundays, I think they meant it—literally. I often preferred going to church with my father, because at the particular Baptist church he attended, morning service began at eleven o’clock sharp and it was over at one o’clock on the dot. But don’t get me wrong, even though it was only a couple of hours, it felt more like the long, hot summer road trips we took from New Jersey to Florida each summer for vacation. During these excursions, the only question on my mind was, “Are we there yet?”

If I could have combined the excitement of my mother’s Pentecostal church with the abbreviated schedule of Daddy’s Baptist church, it would have been a near perfect worship experience!

Although I did not enjoy the excessively extended hours at Mommy’s church, I had grown quite accustomed to, and fond of, the energy and exuberance of the Pentecostal style of worship. The distinct rhythmic beating of the tambourine and drums, the syncopated sounds of the Hammond B-3 organ, and the lively demonstrations of praise, were thrilling. But I would soon discover that the thrill was far more than the music.

Little did I know then, you cannot be in the presence of the Lord and not be impacted by the experience. A transformation was taking place in me before my very eyes. God was actually molding me into a vessel of honor to be used by Him, but I did not perceive it at the time. Even as you are reading this book, God is working on you— reshaping your mentality and calling you to a new place in Him. You may not fully understand His plan at the moment, however, just as the aforementioned blind man did, you too must grab hold of His hand. Let Him lead you out of your Bethsaida into a new dimension of revelation and clarity.

Accept the Call of God

Whenever you branch out and chart a new course along the road God has laid out for you, it is natural to feel some uncertainty. It seems so tough at the time, because you are challenged to do things you have never done before. All kinds of thoughts run through your mind. You wonder if you are really capable of doing what God is challenging you to do. You know you don’t want to remain in your current position. At the same time, you feel too afraid to go to an unfamiliar place. You also do not have a single ounce of tangible evidence that God is even speaking to you. How do you get to the point of fully accepting the call of God?

Abraham, who is called the Father of Faith, would probably give you a very concise answer. It would sound something like, “Just do it.” How do you think he must have felt when God told him, “Get out of your country, From your family And from your father’s house, To a land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1 NKJV). Sure, Abraham obeyed, but the decision certainly wasn’t an easy one. He was being pushed to embark upon a new journey, with most of the details missing. Sound familiar? You see, God knows the end from the beginning. You just have to trust Him. The most important thing is that Abraham obeyed God, accepted the call, and stepped out in faith. God expects no less of you.

You may not have all the particulars. However, God will unfold His plan as you progress along the path He’s chosen for you. If you are waiting for Him to perfectly map out the course before you respond to His call, then you’ll be left waiting forever. He develops and strengthens your faith as you walk with Him daily. But you have got to start walking.

Whether you are launching a ministry, business, career, product, service or other venture; the same is true of each. You have to start somewhere. Although you may not have all the answers, that cannot be your excuse for doing nothing. You will no doubt make some mistakes; it happens to the best of us. Still, you can’t let that stop you.

I remember one day, I got a call from my good friend, Pastor Donnie McClurkin. He is a world renowned Gospel singer, songwriter, and recording artist. On this occasion he was invited as a special guest at a White House Christmas dinner and invited me to tag along! I thought, why not? What an opportunity. I had not visited the Capitol since my ninth grade school trip. Of course, I wanted to make sure I was appropriately dressed. I asked what type of clothing I should wear and Donnie told me it was a black tie affair.

On the day of the event, I made sure I looked the part. I got a fresh hair cut. I put on my black Versace frock coat, custom-tailored shirt and pants. If I had to say so myself, it looked as if I had just fallen off the cover of a GQ Magazine. I must admit, I was feeling pretty good about going to the White House that day. When I walked, it was as if I had my own theme music playing in the background. It was that serious!

We arrived at the White House, went through the security check, and then, on to the room where the dinner was being held. Quickly, my eyes spanned the room. Then, the record scratched. My theme music abruptly stopped. And I knew…Donnie had not been given the correct information about the evening’s dress code. Everywhere I looked, the men were wearing blue and grey business suits.

At that very moment, I knew the answer to the riddle, “What’s black and white and red all over?” Me. I felt my face flush. My palms got sweaty. If I could have slid under a table without being noticed, I would have. To say that I was embarrassed, would be putting it mildly. I was utterly mortified. As I stood there in my formal wear, I expected someone to hand me a serving tray at any moment. Clearly, I looked like a resident butler, much like Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

In that instant, I had two options. Either I could play “Cinderfella” and storm out of there like it was midnight. Or, I could laugh about it and still choose to enjoy the evening. After I got over the initial shock of it all, I chose the latter. Consequently, I met great leaders from around the country, took pictures with the President and First Lady, and no one seemed too put off by the fancy threads. Despite being overdressed, to my surprise, the evening turned out great. As the lyrics to one of Donnie’s hit songs say, “We fall down, but we get up.” If you don’t always get things right, it is not the end of the world. Just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and “Keep on truckin’”, like Eddie Kendricks used to say.

There may be a few missing details along your path, but don’t worry. Things will still work out. Rather than focusing on all you don’t know and how out of place you may feel, begin to see the opportunity in front of you. Surely, I could have high-tailed it out of there, but what good would that have done? It really was not that major. At least I can see that now. While it was happening, however, it appeared much more important than it actually was.

Similarly, when you are called to take on a new position, it may seem very intimidating at the time. You may not feel prepared, or qualified. Still, you have been singled out for the job, so you might as well face it. Own it. Trust me, I know it can be difficult to overcome paralyzing fear and the haunting sense of your own inadequacy; accept the job anyway. Ignore that nagging voice whispering in your ear telling you, “God didn’t say that. He’s not really speaking to you. It’s all inside your head.” Although you may not feel completely confident, trust God anyway.

Are you familiar with the story of Gideon, the fifth judge of Israel? He was challenged by God to go into battle and defeat the Midianites, on behalf of the nation of Israel (Judges 6:36–38). When Gideon received his assignment, he was ambivalent about the mission. Gideon was not sure that he should be the one leading Israel into battle. After all, of his own admission, he was the least likely choice. He could not imagine why God would hand-pick him for the job.

Gideon was by no means a great warrior and naturally he was confused about why God called him to complete a task that was way out of his league. He was very distraught about the whole thing and could not resist sharing his dilemma with God. Gideon thought that he should probably give God a heads up to help Him understand why choosing him was such a huge mistake.

He said, “O my Lord, how can I save Israel? Indeed my clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my father’s house” (Judges 6:15 NKJV). What did he think God was going to say? “Oh Gideon, you’re so right. What was I thinking? I had no idea about your deficiency. Whew! That was a close call.” Now, of course, God was not going to agree with Gideon’s excuses, just as He’s not going to agree with yours. Here is what God actually said, “Surely I will be with you, and you shall defeat the Midianites as one man” (Judges 6:16 NKJV).

Let me help you with something. God is not put off by your (what I call) leastlikeliness. It does not matter that you have been considered least likely to succeed, least likely to get the promotion, least likely to survive in business, or least likely to make an impact in ministry. God has called you and He is on your side. It’s time to change your attitude and your words. Yes, you are the least likely; that’s right. You are the least likely to fail, least likely to quit, and least likely to be defeated. You are more than a conqueror through Christ Jesus (Romans 8:37 NKJV).

It does not matter if you feel unqualified. Being unqualified does not disqualify you from being called by God. He is not deterred by your lack of experience and credentials. God is not limited by your natural limitations and He is in no way restricted by your restrictions. All you have to do is accept His call and He will take care of the rest. As the story continues, we learn that Gideon got cold feet before it was time to go to battle. He asked God to provide some kind of sign to let him know if He had truly called him to embark upon what seemed to be a kamikaze mission.

“So Gideon said to God, ‘If You will save Israel by my hand as You have said—look, I shall put a fleece of wool on the threshing floor; if there is dew on the fleece only, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that You will save Israel by my hand, as You have said’” (Judges 6:36–37 NKJV). Verse 38 of that same chapter tells us, that God indeed provided the sign exactly as Gideon requested and everyone was happy, right? No. Not quite.

Actually, verse 39 shows us that Gideon still was not satisfied. He still needed more proof. He asked God for another sign. Essentially, Gideon wanted God to give him a confirmation, for his confirmation. He knew that he was in no way cut out to do what God called him to do.

God did not get frustrated with Gideon; rather, He provided him with another sign to demonstrate that He had indeed called Gideon to do His will. When God calls you, He always puts you in positions you feel woefully inadequate to occupy. Not to worry, because whomever He calls, He equips to do the job—and do it well. Israel went on to win that battle against the Midianites, because Gideon was finally obedient to the call of God.

I’m sure you can relate to the emotions he felt. You may be experiencing a situation in your life where you need God to confirm that He is indeed with you. God has strategically orchestrated this moment to let you know that He is going to complete His work through you. You do not have to fear. He is ushering you into your destiny.

God is speaking to you and He will not be silenced. He is ministering to you right now and He wants you to embrace what He is doing. His call on your life is for specific reason, a distinct purpose, and a set time. God is calling you. Trust me. He will stop at nothing to get your attention.

Think for a moment. Have you been bombarded with confirmations of God’s promises? Has He spoken to you in dreams, in visions, or through others? Be sensitive. Be open. Be prepared to fulfill the call. It is time to do what He has instructed you to do.

I know that you, like Gideon, just want to be sure. You want to “know, that you know, that you know” it is truly God. How many times and ways does God have to reveal Himself, before you will say yes to His call? When the voice of the Lord spoke to Isaiah and said, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” Isaiah told God, “Here am I! Send me” (Isaiah 6:8 NKJV). God wants you to tell Him the same thing, “Here am I! Send me.”

When I was coming up in the Church of God In Christ, we would repeatedly say, “Yes Lord,” and “Have your way Lord,” in times of prayer and worship. That simply meant we were assuming a position of complete submission. We were giving up our own will in exchange for His. If you are going to experience God’s best, you must strive to let God have His way in every area of your life. Give Him the opportunity to speak to your heart. Remember the old hymn that says, “Have Thine own way Lord, have Thine own way. Thou art the potter, I am the clay. Mold me and make me, after Thy will. Whilst I am waiting, yielded and still?” (Have Thine Own Way, Lord, Adelaide A. Pollard and George C. Stebbins, Hope Publishing 1907, 1935). Let God know that you willing to receive everything He has for you and open to the new dimensions to which He is calling you.

Pursue the Call of God

When I began growing in my understanding of God, I knew that His call was on my life, but I still wrestled and wondered, “Could I really be called? Me, Lawrence Powell? Could God really use me for His glory? Could I be singled out to make a difference in the world?” You may ask some of these same kinds of questions. I want to assure you the answer is yes! God has great plans for your life—much bigger than you can imagine. So big, in fact, they would overwhelm you if He revealed them all at once. You are going to have to passionately pursue the call through intense prayer and supplication.

I recall my earlier days, attending graduate school at Oral Roberts University. I was experiencing a time of tremendous spiritual growth and development in my walk with the Lord. Still, I was seeking to understand exactly how God wanted to use me. One day, while I was in my room alone, I went into my literal prayer closet for a time of deep reflection, introspection, and prayer. That day, I was intent on asking God for direction. I was so full of questions and I really needed to gain a grasp of what He was calling me to do. I began to pour my heart out to Him. I said, “God, whatever You want me to do, I’ll do, but I need to know that it’s You speaking to me.”

I diligently sought the Lord and pushed past my fears, my anxieties, and my concerns. God spoke to me and assured me of His plans for my life. However, this was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that I sought God for His direction and confirmation. You see, I had a constant battle raging in my mind that kept me feeling uneasy, uncertain, and unsure about the path I should take. But I never stopped pursuing His call, even when I didn’t understand.

Don’t worry just because you don’t completely understand everything about your purpose today. You can still apprehend what you cannot comprehend. Simply respond to God as young Samuel did by saying, “Speak, for Your servant hears” (1 Samuel 3:10b NKJV). This kind of act puts you in the right place to receive a word from the Lord.

Pause for a moment now and sincerely ask God to supernaturally develop your ability to discern His voice. Once you recognize His call and become more open to hearing from Him, you will realize that He wants to take you under His wing as His dear child and impart His purpose into your heart. From this day forward, become resolved as never before to pursue your calling intentionally, passionately, and relentlessly.

When it comes to going after God’s will for your life, you must possess an unquenchable thirst, unwavering perseverance, and unyielding commitment. Showing up on Sunday mornings out of

habit and mere obligation is not sufficient. Reading a few verses on a bi-monthly basis from your over-sized, large-print family Bible on the living room table won’t cut it. An occasional, “Now I lay me down to sleep” prayer is not enough. Quoting, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35), will hardly sustain you during your times of uncertainty.

Pursuit is the proof of desire. Thus, if you approach your quest with a nonchalant attitude, devoid of the true passion it takes to ultimately realize God’s plan for your life, you will be met with frustration. Your yearning to understand His calling must infiltrate the very core of your being and cause you to seek Him with true sincerity and fervency in prayer. As you seek God, He will reveal the mysteries of His will in a way that only He can. But you must remain steadfast. You can do it! Just the fact that you are reading this book shows that you have what it takes to overcome adversity, pursue God, and fulfill your destiny.

I cannot tell you how many times I cried out to God from the depths of my being, as I struggled to know exactly what He wanted me to do. I heard His beckoning. I sensed His will. I wanted more clarity, but the answers continually eluded me. I knew God was leading me on a path, but like the proverbial “carrot on a stick,” the answers I so desperately craved, seemed to be dangling just beyond my grasp. Yet, I could not quit. Why? The call of God penetrated the very fiber of my being. The passion to pursue His plan became like an unquenchable fire that burned deep inside the recesses of my soul.

God will ignite a burning desire in you to fulfill a higher calling. He will stir up a fire in you to fuel your faith through times of fear and ambiguity. On this journey to discover and fulfill the call of God, you may feel like you are on an emotional rollercoaster, but continue to press on. Remember, when you are serious about seeking God, you are guaranteed to go through periods of uncertainty. Still, don’t be deterred. Just keep seeking Him. Hebrews 11:6 says, “…he who comes to God must believe that He is, and He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him” (NKJV).

Know that even though things may not come together all at once, God will complete the work He has begun in you. It pays to seek the Lord. Don’t give up your search to understand His call. When you seek Him, you will find Him, and when you find Him, you will find you. Then, the details of your call will be made clear.

These foundational principles are so important. Remember and rehearse what you have learned in this chapter. These principles will assist you in developing your faith during every stage of your journey. Never forget, God has indeed chosen you to complete an assignment that was laid out before the foundation of the world. As you walk with Him, He will continue to unfold His plan.

Your Best Life Begins Each Morning

2008-12-10T10:16:00.002-06:00

I have not received the book yet. I will review as soon as I receive it. Please check-out the following and consider ordering.

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Joel Osteen

and the book:

Your Best Life Begins Each Morning

FaithWords (December 10, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Joel Osteen is the pastor of the largest church in America with one of the most diverse congregations and over 30,000 members attending every week. He has quickly become a leading voice in a new generation of inspirational leaders and pastors. Under his leadership, Lakewood Church has grown in every area of ministry, more than quadrupling in size in the past five years. In the summer of 2005, the church moved into Houston’s 17,000-seat Compaq Arena and become the new Lakewood International Center. Joel and his wife Victoria live in Houston with their two children.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $ 13.99
Hardcover: 384 pages
Publisher: FaithWords (December 10, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0446545090
ISBN-13: 978-0446545099

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

YOUR Best Life BEGINS EACH MORNING

Devotions to Start Every New Day of the Year

JOEL OSTEEN

Introduction

The key to living your best life starts with how you approach every new morning, because today is the only day you have. You can’t do anything about the past, and you don’t know what the future holds. But when you wake up in the morning, you can make up your mind to do your best to enjoy your day. You’re not going to allow what does or doesn’t happen to steal your joy and keep you from God’s abundant life.

Don’t start your day off by feeling guilty about yesterday or recalling all the mistakes you made. Rather, when you make mistakes, simply ask God for forgiveness and then move on, confident that the moment you ask, God forgives you. You are ready for a great present and a bright future. Get up every morning and receive God’s love and mercy and the power of His Word for your life.

Start your day with God by saying, “Father, I thank You that this is going to be a great day. I thank You that I have discipline, self-control; that I make good decisions. I may not have done all that I could have yesterday, but that day’s gone. I’m going to get up and do better today.” These devotions are written to inspire ardent love and worship to God. While they are not meant to replace your personal time with God, it is my desire that the readings will be keys you can use to unlock doors leading a fuller life. I hope they will be a springboard to help you draw nearer to God and to help you overcome the obstacles that might keep you from living your best life now.

Your life can be transformed and renewed as you allow God’s Word to refresh and to reshape your thinking, speaking, and daily activities. Allow the Scriptures to speak to you. Be still and listen to what God is saying to you. No matter where you are or what challenges you face, you can start to enjoy your life right now!

J ANUARY 1

For I am about to do something new.

See, I have already begun! Do you

not see it? I will make a pathway

through the wilderness. I will create

rivers in the dry wasteland.

ISAIAH 43:19

Unpack Your Dreams

W HAT DO YOU WANT TO DO with your life?

If you could write your best life story this morning, what would it say? Is your first reaction to see and describe yourself in terms of past experiences or present limitations, more in terms of losing or just surviving rather than fulfilling your dreams?

If you’ve packed away your dreams, dare to unpack them today and ask God to rekindle them in your heart and mind. It’s time to enlarge your vision.

He wants to pour out His far and beyond favor on you (see Ephesians 2:7). He wants to do big things and new things in your life.

J ANUARY 2

“For I know the plans I have for you,”

declares the Lord, “plans to prosper

you and not to harm you, plans to

give you hope and a future.”

JEREMIAH 29:11

We Serve a Great God

Y OU MAY HAVE EXPERIENCED adversity or trials in your past. Perhaps you’ve had more than your share of setbacks and heartaches. But today is a brand-new day. It is time to stretch your faith and pursue the excellence that God has placed in your heart. It is time to break out of the “barely get by” mentality, to become the best you can be, not merely average or ordinary, for the rest of your life.

We serve the Most High God, and His dream for your life is so much bigger and better than you can even imagine. Never settle for a small view of God. Start thinking as God thinks. Think big. Think increase. Think abundance. Think more than enough!

J ANUARY 3

What, then, shall we say in response

to this? If God is for us, who can be

against us? He who did not spare his

own Son, but gave him up for us all—

how will he not also, along with him,

graciously give us all things?

ROMANS 8:31–32

With God on Your Side

GOD IS CONSTANTLY trying to plant new seeds in your heart. He’s trying to fill you with so much hope and expectancy that the seed will grow and bring forth a tremendous harvest. Never allow negative thinking to keep you from God’s best. If you will get in agreement with God, this can be the greatest time of your life.

With God on your side, you cannot possibly lose. He can make a way when it looks as though there is none. He can open doors that no one can shut. He can cause you to be at the right place, at the right time. He can supernaturally turn your dreams into reality.

J ANUARY 4

For therein is the righteousness of God

revealed from faith to faith: as it is

written, The just shall live by faith.

ROMANS 1:17

Stretch Your Faith

PERHAPS WE HAVE A GOAL to break a bad habit, to lose some weight, or to pay off our credit cards. At first, we’re so excited and we go after it! But over time, we get lazy; we get complacent. Maybe we see a little improvement, but then we get comfortable right where we are. Where we are may not be a bad place, but we know it’s not where we’re supposed to be. We’re not stretching our faith. We’re not pursuing the excellence that God has placed in our hearts.

Maybe you’ve been coasting lately, thinking that perhaps you’ve reached your limits. You’re not stretching your faith. You aren’t believing for an increase.

No, don’t stop halfway; go on up to the top of your mountain. Believe God for more.

J ANUARY 5

By faith Abraham, when called

to go to a place he would later

receive as his inheritance, obeyed

and went, even though he did not

know where he was going.

HEBREWS 11:8

Step Out of Your Comfort Zone

PEOPLE WHO SEE THEIR DREAMS come to pass are people who have some resolve, some backbone; people who refuse to settle for somewhere along the way. Abraham, one of the Old Testament heroes of faith, obeyed God and followed Him all the way to the Promised Land of abundance in Canaan. Abraham’s father, however, stopped along the way and settled in Haran (see Genesis 11:31), feeling it was good enough but missing out on God’s best.

Don’t fall into a complacency trap. It doesn’t take any more effort to stay filled with faith than it takes to develop a negative attitude. Dare to step out of your comfort zone today. God has so much more in store. Keep pursuing and keep believing.

Copyright © 2008 by Joel Osteen Publishing

Are You Willing To Give It All Up?

2008-12-10T01:15:00.000-06:00

I remember when our family was going through a difficult time and I knelt down by my bed and said "God, I am willing to do whatever it takes. If that means walking away, I would. If that means praying more, I'm willing. If it means putting it on the alter and giving you full control, I'm willing."

Wow...that was a very hard thing to do. When God did move in this situation, it was not done the way I thought He would do it. In fact, I remember saying "God, that's not what I meant." But the truth is: God knew what was best. He knew what needed to be done to work our miracle. Even now, I look back and I'm amazed at how God's plan worked to the best for all of us.

The main thing I learned from this situation was that I had to give it all up to God. Have you ever wondered why Lot's wife turned and looked back after she had been told not to? She was not willing to give it all up. She wasn't ready to leave her possessions, friends and family. She followed Lot, however, it is was not in her heart. She only did what was expected of her.

My prayer today is that I never forget who is in charge of my life.

I Hope You Dance

2008-12-04T11:30:00.004-06:00

I was reading an article in a devotional book (author unknown) that points out that in the word "Guidance" the last part of the word is "Dance". It points out that doing God's will is alot like dancing.

When two people try to lead, nothing feels right. The movement doesn't flow with the music and everything is quite uncomfortable and jerky. When one person realizes that and lets the other lead, both bodies begin to flow with the music. One gives gentle cues, perhaps with a nudge to the back or by pressing lightly in one direction or another. It's as if two become one body, moving beautifully.

The "Dance" takes surrender, willingness, and attentiveness from one person and gentle guidance and skill from the other.

This article pointed out that the word "Guidance" starts with the letter "G". Could that be for God? Then the next two letters are "u" & "i".

God, u, and i dance. As I finish my devotion today, I want to become more willing to trust God for the guidance I need so desperately. Once again, I become willing to let God lead.

I Hope You Dance!

Enoch by Alton Gansky

2008-12-01T20:08:00.000-06:00

This book captures your full attention on page one and carries you through a fast-paced journey through a story of good versus evil.

An unusual message, "Look for the one I AM sending you," stops popping up on TV shows, Movies, Computers, Radio Stations & Newspappers. The message puts fear and confusion in the minds of many. Before you know it, you are pulled into the mystery and trying to figure out the ending.

I highly recommend this book. An easy read with a great message.”

It is time to play a Wild card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card author is:

Alton Gansky

and the book:

Enoch

Realms (October 2, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Alton Gansky is the author of twenty-one published novels and six nonfiction works. He has been a Christie Award finalist (A Ship Possessed) and an Angel Award winner (Terminal Justice). He holds a BA and MA in biblical studies and has served as senior pastor for three Baptist churches in California, with a total of over twenty years in pulpit ministry. He and his wife live in the High Desert area of Southern California.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99

Paperback: 307 pages

Publisher: Realms (October 2, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 159979344X

ISBN-13: 978-1599793443

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

He first thought of his feet.

It seemed an odd first thought, but there it was. His gaze drifted to a pair of soft-topped shoes, each with a symbol stitched to the side.

"N." He wondered why anyone would stitch a letter on footwear.

He raised a foot, then wiggled it. The shoe felt good. He dug a toe in the sandy dirt, then raised his head. A field surrounded him. No crops, no buildings, no people. Just a wide expanse of rugged scrub that shivered in the cold wind.

A full-circle turn revealed nothing but the same: miles of empty land. He blinked against the wind and the bits of dirt and dust it carried. To the west the sun lowered itself to the horizon. In the opposite direction, darkness crawled up the sky, keeping pace as if the descending orb pulled a curtain of night behind it.

Turning to face the sun again, he saw a break in the expanse of near-barren ground. At its edge ran a thin fence. He moved toward it, amused at the soft crunch the earth made with each step of his N-shoes.

Something scampered to his right. A covey of quail sprinted away and then took to the air, flying a short distance before making contact with the earth again. The sight made him smile.

Henick wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chilling breeze. The material of his multicolored shirt felt soft against his arms and palms. He kept his gaze down, protecting his eyes from the sun's glare and looking up only long enough to get his bearings and check for holes or rocks that might cause him to stumble.

The fence was a simple series of metal stakes supporting four strands of metal wire punctuated with evenly spaced barbs. He extended a finger, touched one of the points, and frowned. The knife-sharp tip drew a drop of blood. He stuck the offended finger in his mouth. A quick scan of the fence's length revealed no gate.

A short distance from the fence ran a wide, smooth, black surface with a series of white dashes down the middle. He marveled at its unerring straightness.

He returned his attention to the fence. He wanted to be on the other side but preferred to arrive there with skin and clothing intact. Placing a hand on the top strand, he pushed down. The metal wire moved, but not enough to make straddling the thing acceptable. He tried again, this time using both hands. The wire fence gave more but still too little.

Henick decided on a different approach. He stepped to the nearest metal upright and tested it. It looked old, as if it had spent a lifetime stuck in that one spot. Seizing it with both hands and careful to avoid the stinging wire, he shook the thin metal pole. It wiggled. He leaned into it and then pulled back, repeating the motion twenty or thirty times. The metal felt cold against his bare hands, and gritty rust tinted his flesh.

When he had worked the pole loose, he lifted its base from the ground, then moved to the next upright and reenacted the procedure. With two posts loose, Henick could step across the barrier without injury.

Once on the other side, he replaced the posts, stomping the surrounding dirt with his foot until the soil was as compact as he could make it. In time, weather would reseal the posts to their original strength.

The exertion had warmed him enough to raise a film of perspiration on his brow and beneath the black hair that hung to his shoulders. The breeze found each moist area and chilled it. He could expect a cold night.

Stepping to the middle of the black path, he bent and touched the surface. It appeared smooth but felt coarse beneath his fingers. The black material radiated gentle warmth. He straightened and looked up and down the long road. It seemed to have no end in either direction. Deciding that one direction was as good as the other, Henick began to walk, choosing his course so the wind would be at his back and not in his face.

When the last of the sun's disk fell beneath the horizon, Henick had made two or three miles. He passed the time by counting the white dashes in the middle of the strange path or wondering about the letter N on his shoes. He liked the shoes; they made walking easier.

A quarter moon replaced the sun in the sky but offered little light. Soon the final light would follow its source below the distant horizon. If he had remained in the open field, he would have had to stop his journey. Walking over uncertain and irregular terrain with no light would be foolish, but the hard path with its white lines made it possible for him to continue.

Just before the sun said its final good-bye, Henick saw a black and white sign with a puzzling, irregular shape and the words Ranch Road 1232. Sometime later he saw a sign that read Don't Mess with Texas.

The air moved from chilly to cold, but the breeze had settled.

Henick kept moving.

Lights and a rumble approached from behind. The light split the darkness and gave Henick a shadow that stretched impossibly long before him. He stopped and turned, raising a hand to shield his eyes against the glare.

The roar grew louder. The lights neared.

A sudden blaring assaulted his ears, but Henick stood his ground.

"What are you? Nuts?"

The voice came from behind the glare. A large metal device pulled alongside. The words pickup truck entered Henick's mind.

The vehicle stopped. "Have you plumb lost your mind, boy? I coulda run you down and not even known I hit ya. What are you thinking?"

In the dim light, Henick could see two people seated in the truck: a man in his sixties and a woman of the same age.

"Go easy on him, Jake. He looks confused. Maybe he's lost." The woman's voice rode on tones of kindness.

"That it, boy? You lost?"

"I am just walking," Henick said.

"In the dark? Where you headed?"

Henick thought for a moment. "That way." He pointed down the long stretch of road.

"Ain't nuthin' that way but Blink, and there ain't much reason for going there unless that's your home. I'm guessin' it ain't. Pretty small town; I think I'd have seen you before."

"I don't live there."

The man the woman called Jake exited the truck and eyed Henick. "It's a bit cold to be out in nuthin' but blue jeans and a flannel shirt. It's supposed to drop into the forties tonight."

"It is true. I am cold."

"Give him a ride, Jake." The woman had slid closer to the driver side door. "We can't leave him out here. He's liable to step in some pothole and break a leg."

"More likely he'd step on a rattler. They like the warm asphalt."

"Either way, Jake, we can't leave the man out here."

"All right, all right, just keep your shoes on." Jake looked at Henick. "Turn around."

Henick raised an eyebrow.

"Turn around, boy. I jus' wanna make sure you ain't packin'."

"Packin'?"

"Totin' a gun. You sure you haven't wandered off from some kinda home for the slow?"

"Jake!"

"All right, Eleanor, I don't mean no disrespect." He motioned for Henick to turn in place. Henick did. "OK, here's the deal. I'll give you a ride, but that's all. Me and the wife were going into town for a meal. Friday night is our evening out. Been doing that for thirty-five years."

"I would like a ride."

"Yeah, well, don't have no room for you up front, so you'll have to ride in the back. I got some blankets to keep the wind off you. It's the best I can offer."

"Thank you." Henick climbed into the bed of the truck and leaned against the cab.

"Blankets are behind my seat. I'll get 'em."

A few moments later, Henick, snug in two wool blankets, turned his face heavenward, gazed at the stars, and wondered what a "Texas" was.

Is God First In Your Life?

2008-12-01T15:17:00.000-06:00

The best way I have found to determine if God is first in my life is to slow down and ask myself some simple questions:

What do I think about the most? What is the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing on my mind at night? What do I pray and talk about the most? What subjects fill my conversations with God and with others? What do I do with my time?

I wonder if we spend an hour a week praying and 8 hours a week playing golf...then is golf a higher priority than God?

I wonder if we spend thirty minutes praying and thirty minutes reading the Bible every week...but spend ten hours watching TV...then is TV a higher priority than God?

The truth is that we make time for what we really want to do.

We all have the same number of hours in a day, and for the most part, we each set our own schedules. It's true that we all have great demands on our time. Women play so many roles, such as mother, wife, daughter, sister, volunteer, musician, etc. However, if we are not careful, we overload ourselves and find that our days have become impossible.

Being the perfect woman/man is something that will never happen. Everyone of us face things everyday that we have not a clue on how to handle. But...if we keep God first in our life we will find the solution.

Both of our children are married and have families. The one thing I say to them often is "Will this really matter in five years"?

Are you fretting about something that you have no control over? Are you trying to be someone that is impossible to become?

How about letting God be first in your life? He is our answer!

Me Myself & I...By Matthews Peter

2008-12-01T12:14:00.000-06:00

This is a book that helps the reader get to know God better & develop a closer relationship with Him. The book, Me Myself & I, ask alot of questions and gives the reader the opportunity to write his own faith story. This will a be a book that will help start many conversations with the readers family & friends. I recommend this book highly! www.amazon.com

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!

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

Today's Wild Card is:

Me Myself & I AM

Multnomah Books (October 7, 2008)

Created by Matthew Peters in partnership with Elisa Stanford

Product Details:

List Price: $ 13.99

Hardcover: 96 pages

Publisher: Multnomah Books (October 7, 2008)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1601421427

ISBN-13: 978-1601421425

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

You are holding in your hands a unique question and answer book that helps you tell the very personal story of you and God. We take the title from the well-known passage in the Old Testament in which God tells Moses God’s name: “God said to Moses, ‘I AM WHO

I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” (Exodus 3:14).

You can use Me, Myself, & I AM in many ways: as a map to explore your faith, as a lens to focus on your relationship with Jesus, as a fun way to let others get to know you, or as a starting point for important conversations with family and friends. What you record becomes a spiritual time capsule you can revisit months or years from now to see how you used to think and feel, who you used to be.

Be sure to answer questions not with what you feel you should say but with what you really (like it or not) think. After all, you’re writing down the story of your life. You’ll find that some questions are fun, some are serious, and some that appear to be light turn out to be the most thought provoking of all. Answer as many questions as you can, but if a question doesn’t feel right for you, skip it and move on. If you run out of space for an answer, you might want to use the blank pages in the back of the book to continue writing.

So relax, take your time, and enjoy the experience of getting to know yourself and God in new and deeper ways.

—Matthew Peters and Elisa Stanford

R E A L M E R I G H T N OW

My name: ____________________________________ Today’s date: _____________

The city I live in: ________________________________________________________

The city I consider to be home: _____________________________________________

My occupation: _________________________________________________________

My health: _____________________________________________________________

When and where I am writing this: __________________________________________

The weather is: _________________________________________________________

Sounds I hear right now: __________________________________________________

The one thing I’m most thankful for right now: ________________________________

The one thing I’m most concerned about right now: _____________________________

I picked up Me, Myself, & I AM because: _____________________________________

My biggest hope is that when I’m done I’ll: ____________________________________

T H E P E R S O N WRITING…

Looks: ________________________________________________________________

Is wearing: _____________________________________________________________

Drives a: ______________________________________________________________

Has a secret: ____________________________________________________________

Shares a residence with: ___________________________________________________

Is currently reading: ______________________________________________________

Tends to watch TV shows like: _____________________________________________

Usually goes to bed at: ____________________________________________________

Usually gets up at: _______________________________________________________

Gets most annoyed at: ____________________________________________________

Gets happiest when: ______________________________________________________

Talks the most to: _______________________________________________________

Is never without: ________________________________________________________

Likes to listen to: ________________________________________________________

Prefers to eat: ___________________________________________________________

Dreams about: __________________________________________________________

Complains about: _______________________________________________________

Could easily be captured by: _______________________________________________

Has great potential to: ____________________________________________________

Is most dangerous when: __________________________________________________

A DAY I N MY L I F E

My perfect day would look like this…

Morning: ______________________________________________________________

Midday: _______________________________________________________________

Afternoon: _____________________________________________________________

Evening: _______________________________________________________________

Night: ________________________________________________________________

A DAY I N MY L I F E

Today my top three priorities are:

1. ____________________________________________________________________

2. ____________________________________________________________________

3. ____________________________________________________________________

Three words or phrases that describe me:

1. ____________________________________________________________________

2. ____________________________________________________________________

3. ____________________________________________________________________

Three words or phrases others would use to describe me:

1. ____________________________________________________________________

2. ____________________________________________________________________

3. ____________________________________________________________________

I like myself most when: __________________________________________________

A DAY I N MY L I F E

I like myself least when:

A new invention allows me to change one thing about myself. I decide to change:

That change makes the following difference in my life:

A DAY I N MY L I F E

One place I go to find peace: _______________________________________________

One activity that makes me happy: __________________________________________

One circumstance or person that consistently makes me so angry I might explode:

One train of thought that brings me serenity in the midst of stress:

Challenges I am currently experiencing that I have some control over:

Challenges I am currently experiencing that I cannot control:

SOUNDT R ACKS

If my life today were a movie, these song lyrics would be in the soundtrack:

[ ] “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

[ ] “I need thee every hour.”

[ ] “There’s bubblegum in the baby’s hair.”

[ ] “It is well with my soul.”

[ ] “On the road again…”

[ ] “Another day older and deeper in debt…”

[ ] “I feel good!”

[ ] “If I could turn back time…”

[ ] “I’m raining on the inside.”

[ ] “Loneliness is a place that I know well.”

[ ] “Joy to the world!”

[ ] “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.”

[ ] “Sunrise, sunset…”

[ ] “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.”

[ ] “Send in the clowns.”

[ ] “Take a sad song and make it better.”

[ ] “Thank you, Jesus.”

[ ] “Working nine to five, what a way to make a living!”

[ ] “I wanna hold your hand.”

[ ] “Whatever will be, will be.”

[ ] “Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place.”

[ ] Other: _________________________________

F E A R F U L

My biggest fear about my family today: _______________________________________

My biggest fear about the world today: _______________________________________

My biggest fear about my spiritual life today: ___________________________________

Something I fear that others might think is silly: ________________________________

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being a lot, fear influences my life: ___________________

Praise the Lord

2008-12-01T11:53:00.000-06:00

"While I live. I will praise the Lord: I will sing praises to my God while I have my being." Psalms 146:2

In studying Psalms today, the various writers came to one of the basic principles for living a balanced Christian life: We are to "Praise the Lord." When things are going great, we are quick to shout, "Praise the Lord." However, when we face difficult times, we tend to forget God's faithfulness. Where some people might be inclined to curse God for the trials or illness, we as Christian must decide to take the higher road. Our hearts must be filled with God's praises!

"Bless the Lord, oh my soul. And all that is within me. Bless His holy name. For He has done great things. He has done great things. He has done great things. Bless His holy name."

Priority On Marriage

2008-12-01T11:51:00.000-06:00

Flight attendants give these instructions to airline passengers: "For those of you traveling with small children, in the event of an oxygen failure, first place the mask on your own face and then place the mask on your child's face."

In family life, parents often spend most of their time placing oxygen masks on their children's faces while the marriage relationship suffocates. The only way to have a strong family is to make sure that the husband and wife keep the oxygen supply of love flowing strong between them. Communication is a must!

When our children left home, we went through the empty-nest syndrome. We didn't have anything to talk about...because our children had been our lives. But I can honestly say I love my husband more ever. We learned to do things together. We learned to talk even when there was nothing to talk about. I'm not saying my husband (or I) am perfect. We are not. But we have learned two major things: "Is it really worth fighting over?" "Will it really matter in one week?

So, in saying all of the above. Your wife/husband was given to you by God. Cherish your spouse & learn to listen. The memories you are making now will last a lifetime.

Don't Let The Devil Steal Your Song!

2008-12-01T11:41:00.000-06:00

In reading my morning devotion, I came across the following story (author unknown).

"Long ago, our family had a canary named Goldie who, one night, had a visitor name Mouse. This rascal, when all was dark and quiet, would run up the canary stand, get into the cage, steal the food, scamp over to the water and steal a drink and then run back down the stand. The canary stayed fast asleep.

Then I heard about another alleged robbery...Musicians are up in arms that their copyrighted music is being downloaded free from an Internet web site. People are stealing our music, they say, and Napster.com found itself in big trouble in the courts."

Now, you may not be a canary or a songbird of any kind, but sure as anything, God has put a song in yuour heart--and I know "someone" who is out to steal it. When you hear, in your spirit, the sound of trampling feet trying to get into YOUR CAGE or YOUR music box, wake up--and know that the enemy of your soul would love to stop the singing in your soul. He CAN'T stop it, unless you let him!

Tell the song-stealer to get lost--God has given you a song and the devil cannot stop the music while you're service the Lord! Believe it! Sing a NEW triumphant song to the Lord, loud and clear.

If You Want Something Done

2008-12-01T10:47:00.000-06:00

Have you ever heard the old saying, "If you want something done, give it to a busy woman?"

Woman can be overwhelmed with their many daily duties, but if someone ask "Where is my coat", she can instantly answer and tell them the location. If we put it up, we remember where it is.

How many times has your hubby asked where his favorite jeans are and they are hanging right in front of him? How many times have you asked someone to do something for you and they totally forget?

If you were to walk into my house--you would see that I have a place for everything, and most often, everything is in its place. That's not to say the house is spotless all the time because the truth is--life happens, especially if you are constantly on the go. But it never takes me long to get it very clean because everything has a place. Following are things I've learned from years of experience:

"Never touch the same paper twice."

"Do it now!"

"You must prioritize. People don't plan to fail, they just fail to plan."

Wow! Had I actually created healthy habits in my life without realizing it? How did I do that? How can I help my friends that do not have it together?

If you are like my friend and constantly looking for your car keys, or your purse, or where you laid todays mail...let me encourage you to just make this one simple change in your life. Make a place for them! And ALWAYS put them in the same place. It will take practice at first, but once you develop the habit--it will remain a habit! Then once you have conquered your new change-add another one. The main point is...whatever you do, do it with consistency.

My days fly by with duties and chores and being busy can be a good thing, if you're productive. But busy can also be just another word for activity.

An article I once read said that the acronym for the word BUSY is: Being Under Satan's Yolk.

Ouch! That will cause you to stop and evaluate what is a good use of your time. Sometimes people are just busy because they like to feel the rush of being on the go all the time.

Slow down, take a breath and do regular evaluatins of your "busyness." Ask if everything you are doing is the best thing for you to be doing.

While doing my personal evaluations, I'll find my priorities change from season to season. Sometimes TIME is more valuable to me than MONEY, but other times, MONEY is more important to me than TIME.

But if I had to choose just one tip for church leaders, planners or moms--it would be to recruit HELP! This is my word to you...TEAMWORK. Together Everyone Accomplishes More!

Just remember that the givers also need to be the receivers at times. Give all you can, but learn to also be a gracious receiver.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-25T17:40:00.004-06:00

I am positive there are many articles being written about Thanksgiving, and I'm sure I'm one out of thousands. But I can not go through this season without writing down what I am thankful for. So here goes my list:

I'm thankful for:
My husband who has been by my side for 37 years.
I'm thankful for my beautiful daughter, her husband and my two awesome grandsons.
I'm thankful for the new baby that is on his way. We declare him healthy!
I'm thankful for my strong, handsome son, his wife and their two sons.
I'm thankful for the greatest dog in the world. Cody is always by myside.
I'm thankful for my parents and in-laws.
I'm thankful for my church, my pastor & freedom to worship wherever we want.
I'm thankful for travel. Nothing I like more than to travel with my hubby.
I'm thankful for health.
I'm thankful for warm socks.
I'm thankful that our new barn is finished.
I'm thankful that my husband loves whatever I cook.
I'm thankful for our friends.
I'm thankful for my hot tub.
I'm thankful for the money that God has given us.
I'm thankful for our home and land.
I'm thankful for the little things that my husband does for me.
I'm thankful for bath oils.
I'm thankful for my twitter friends.
I'm thankful for stores that have what I want.

I could go on and on. But the whole thing is...I'm thankful for everything God has done for me or given me. So...on Thanksgiving Day...I hope I don't forget to stop and thank God for everything He has done. To alot of people, Thanksgiving is a day to eat, spend time with family and have fun. But Thanksgiving to me is stepping aside and remembering who gave me what I have and made me what I am.

Thank you Lord for all you've done for me, my husband and my family!