Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Power of Humility

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

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


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Charisma House (May 3, 2011)
***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Charisma House | Charisma Media for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


R. T. Kendall is author of the best-selling title Total Forgiveness. Born in Ashland, Kentucky, he was educated at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Oxford University and was the pastor of Westminster Chapel in London, England, for twenty-five years. Known internationally as a speaker and teacher, Dr. Kendall is also the author of more than forty-five books, includingThe Sensitivity of the Spirit, The Thorn in the Flesh, Grace, Pure Joy, Imitating Christ, andThe Anointing: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Written in the same style as his Jealousy—the Sin No One Talks About,Kendall tackles the problem of pride, bringing out into the open the challenges a majority of people face in overcoming the pride and self-righteousness that were introduced to mankind by the serpent in the Garden of Eden. He defines the various kinds of pride, including social, racial, financial, sexual, and spiritual pride, and teaches us how God uses the pride in our lives to reveal our need for Christlikeness. He demonstrates that pride lies behind the “blame game,” causing us to “pass the buck” rather than admit our guilt and thus interfering in our ability to draw closer in relationship to God.

Kendall outlines several Old Testament examples of pride. He shows how foolish pride governed most of Jacob’s life, led to King Saul becoming “yesterday’s man,” and filled Elijah’s life, even though he was a great prophet of God. Then he shows how pride surfaced in New Testament people: Peter’s pride in believing he loved Jesus most of all, the pride of the Pharisees, and the racial-religious pride that filled the Jews and was the reason they rejected Paul. Finally we take a closer look at Jesus—and Kendall teaches us the principles from the Sermon on the Mount that will lead us away from pride. He shows us that it is impossible to be Spirit-filled and self-righteous simultaneously, and he gives us biblical principles for overcoming pride and self-righteousness.


Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: Charisma House (May 3, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616383488
ISBN-13: 978-1616383480

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

“I am the only one of the lord’s prophets left. . . . I have been very zealous for the lord God Almighty.” -1 Kings 18:22; 19:14


“There is no limit to how far a person can go as long as he doesn’t care who gets the credit for it.” -A plaque on President Ronald Reagan’s desk


The measure of pride is essential to our self-esteem, emotional well-being, and good mental health. It is what gives us a sense of self-worth and dignity— which God wants each of us to have. We need to take ourselves seriously to some extent. But pride can push this too far as when we begin to take ourselves too seriously. In chapter 2 we will look at the good side of pride—its advantages to us and why it is not always bad. In this chapter, however, we will examine pride as it is generally understood in the Bible. As I said above, the Bible has nothing good to say about pride. Pride in Scripture is always that which is suspect and to be avoided; it is disdained. It is assumed in the Bible as arrogance, haughtiness, smugness, a feeling of superiority over others, insolence, overbearingness, superciliousness, narcissism, vainglory, conceit, egotism, vanity, and self-importance.


Pride is the opposite of humility, modesty, and meekness. St. Augustine (a.d. 354–430) said that pride is the love of one’s own excellence. People like Aristotle (384–322 b.c.) and George Bernard Shaw (a.d. 1856–1950) saw pride as a profound virtue. “I often quote myself,” said Shaw. “It adds spice to my conversation.” He also said, “Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.”


Most religions of the world—certainly Christianity—see pride as a sin. There are two Greek words relevant here. Alazon (as in James 4:16; 1 John 2:16; Romans 1:30) refers to one who makes more of himself than reality justifies, ascribing to himself either more or better things than he has, or even what he does not possess at all; he promises what he cannot deliver. The other Greek word is huperephanos (as in Mark 7:22; James 4:6, 1 Peter 5:5), which means arrogance. It refers to one who brags about his position, power, and wealth and despises others. In 2 Timothy 3:2 both alazon (boastful) and huperephanos (proud) are found beside each other.


We will see throughout this book that neither word for pride needs be used explicitly to describe a person’s proud behavior. For example, the writer of 1 Kings did not impute Elijah with pride. But that is what was going on. How dare Elijah say, “I am the only one of the Lord’s prophets left” (1 Kings 18:22; 19:14)—even if it were true! But it was absolutely false. Elijah had just been told that Obadiah the prophet had taken a hundred other prophets and hid them in caves (1 Kings 18:13). Elijah felt so superior to the other prophets of his day that he did not even acknowledge them as prophets of the Lord! That is sheer arrogance. Elijah is a perfect example of a person taking himself too seriously.


Could the revered and hallowed Elijah truly take himself too seriously? Yes. Is not Elijah regarded as one of the greatest men in the Old Testament? Yes. Did his prayer before all the people not result in fire coming down from heaven and exposing the folly of the prophets of Baal? Yes. Was it not Elijah who appeared with Moses when Jesus was transfigured before the disciples on the mountain (Matt. 17:3)? Yes. And when Elijah

said, “I am the only one of the Lord’s prophets left,” God could have aborted the whole procedure because Elijah misspoke (to put it mildly). But God didn’t do that.


This encourages me. James wanted his readers to know that Elijah was “a man with a nature like ours” (James 5:17, esv). The point is, if God could use Elijah—and if Elijah can get his prayers answered, so too with any of us! God can use those of us who take ourselves too seriously. In the final chapter of my book In Pursuit of His Glory, I listed five things I would hopefully do differently if I could turn the clock back after twenty-five years at Westminster Chapel. This list included that I should not take myself so seriously.


I therefore define pride essentially as taking oneself too seriously. Taking oneself too seriously is the common denominator in all proud people. It describes those who resent criticism, who are insecure, who cannot laugh at themselves, whose need of praise is constant, who see themselves as overly important, who fancy themselves as being very special to God (and think God bends the rules for them), who tend to blame others for their problems, who hate taking the blame, who cannot bear not getting the credit for the good they did, and who have an insatiable need to prove themselves.


Is that you? Take heart. I just described virtually every person whom God has ever used.


Categories of Pride


But pride takes many forms. Some try to prove they are not proud by trying to appear the very opposite. “Pride perceiving humility honorable often borrows her cloak,” said Benjamin Franklin (1706–1790). It goes down better with people if we seem humble. The motive is the same: we are concerned how we are perceived. Our self-esteem is at stake.


There are many kinds of pride. There is social pride (keeping up with the Joneses), spiritual pride (self-righteousness), financial pride (impressing others with one’s wealth), political pride (being sure to be politically correct), sexual pride (always needing to attract the opposite sex), cultural pride (impressing people with your love of the arts), pride of pedigree (placing importance on one’s background), educational pride (impressing with degrees), intellectual pride (always needing to prove how much you know and how intelligent you are), pride of your good looks (overly concerned with appearance, whether regarding dress, figure, or hair), national pride (sometimes being overly patriotic), or racial pride (proud of the color of your skin). There is even theological pride, when one feels superior because of their rightness of doctrine. Closely akin to this is prophetic pride, when one gloats over their prophetic successes.


God Hates Pride


What must never be forgotten is that God hates pride. “There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes [‘a proud look’—kjv], a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet

that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers” (Prov. 6:16–19). Note that “haughty eyes” or “proud look” heads the list of things God hates. “Whoever has haughty eyes and a proud heart, him will I not endure” (Ps. 101:5). Have you ever seen someone with a proud look—haughty eyes? I have. Certain people literally come to my mind when I think of haughty eyes and an arrogant countenance. But who am I to judge? You and I look on the outward appearance; God looks at the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). So, have I too had the same outward

proud expression I have seen in some when in fact people have had the exact same perception of me? I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question.


When we consider how much God hates our being proud, it is enough to drive us to our knees. We should ask, “Lord, am I like this?” “You save the humble but bring low those whose eyes are haughty” (Ps. 18:27). “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (1 Pet. 5:5). “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled” (Luke 14:11). “You rebuke the arrogant” (Ps. 119:21).


But when I consider that God was patient with Elijah, I feel there is hope for me. God could indeed have stepped in and interrupted the entire proceedings when Elijah openly said, “I am the only true prophet left.” But He didn’t. God took His time and later on called Elijah to one side, as if to say, “Oh, by the way, Elijah, I have seven thousand in Israel whose knees have not bowed down to Baal.” (See 1 Kings 19:18.) God has used me over the years and then later called me to one side and gently showed me faults and flaws others saw but I had been blind to. He is such a good and gracious God.


No Guilt Trip


I will have failed in this book if I give you a guilt trip as you read. My task is to show our pride and God’s hatred of it—but to show we are all in this together. But more than that, that we will equally see His mercy toward those who repent of this folly. The worst thing you and I can do in this connection is to be defensive. That will never do. But if God kindly points out our failures, it means we are loved (1 John 4:19)—and that there is hope for us. Repentance is a grace that God grants (Rom. 2:4; Acts 11:18; 2 Tim. 2:25). It is a gracious gift that we do not remotely deserve. The very real possibility of being unable to be renewed to repentance (Heb. 6:4–6) should be enough to humble all of us. But if in this book you are given to see what displeases the Lord and that you are sorry, I will give God the praise.


Even Ahab, one of the most wicked kings ever, saw his folly in a most heinous injustice he committed. But when he was reproved, he “tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and fasted. He lay in sackcloth and went around meekly.” God noticed it. He said to Elijah, “Have you noticed how Ahab has humbled himself before me? Because he has humbled himself, I will not bring this disaster in his day, but I will bring it on his house in the days of his son” (1 Kings 21:27–29). This means there is hope for us all.


God rebukes us to bring us to our senses. He lets us save face. He does not chasten or discipline us to get even. God got even at the cross, when the Lord laid upon Jesus the iniquity of us all (Isa. 53:6). “For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust” (Ps. 103:11–14). He sent the wind and the fish to swallow up Jonah not to punish him but, as Dr. Bruce Chesser put it, to save him (Jonah 1–2). How often God “saves us from ourselves,” as Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones used to say.


Foolish Worry: What People Might Think of Us



Taking ourselves too seriously leads us foolishly to imagine what people might think about us. As if what they think is so important! But I will never forget a day—it was pivotal in my life—when two important men had to humble me. These two men were Dr. Barrie White, my supervisor at Oxford, and Dr.


J. I. Packer, who functioned as a second supervisor. I had been at Oxford for about a year at the time. What I thought was to be a leisurely lunch with them was interrupted by Jim Packer saying to Barrie White, “Shall you tell him, or shall I?” Dr. White motioned to Dr. Packer to start. “You need to minimize your liabilities,” Jim Packer graciously said to me, showing a mastery of British understatement—and trying to let me save face. “I know you have come to Oxford to do your DPhil. (doctorate of philosophy) on John Owen.” (He was referring to the great Puritan theologian John Owen [1616–1683], whose doctrine of the priestly work of Christ had motivated me to come to Oxford, something I had told everybody back in America I would do.) Jim continued, “But we don’t think you are able to do John Owen,” then shared what they thought I could do at Oxford to get the DPhil. I was devastated. I went home with the worst migraine headache of my whole life. I went to bed. Why? I worried what people would think. It was so silly. The truth is, these people would have thought absolutely nothing about it! But I could only think of my reputation among friends back in America. Taking myself too seriously literally put me to bed. What is more, the thesis I ended up doing (on John Calvin [1509–1564] and the English Puritans) was the best thing in that connection that ever happened to me. But at the time I was utterly governed by pride and what people would think, that friends back at my seminary in Louisville might discover I wasn’t cut out to do a doctorate on John Owen. And yet it reminds me of something my grandfather R. J. Kendall used to say: “Don’t worry over what people might be thinking of you; chances are, they are not thinking about you at all.” How true.


Building Monuments to Ourselves


Taking oneself too seriously is what makes people try to ensure they will be remembered by history. They have statues made and get buildings, streets, or highways named after them while they are still alive. The notion to “let another praise you, and not your own mouth; someone else, and not your own lips” (Prov. 27:2) seems not to appear on their radar screen. And yet it reminds me of something President Harry S. Truman (1884– 1972) would say when refusing to let anybody sculpt a bust or statue of him. He said, “I don’t want people seeing my statue years later and asking, ‘Who was he?’”


I was disappointed when one of my heroes allowed a larger-than-life statue to be made of himself by America’s greatest sculptor while he was still alive—and was even present for its unveiling! It’s true! They had planned to put the statue outside in the open air. But the preacher stopped them. “No, please put it inside. I don’t want those pigeons defecating on my statue.” But here is something I think is rather funny. I decided sometime later to use this account as an illustration in a sermon, realizing nobody in the congregation at Westminster would remotely know whom I was talking about. My point in the sermon—on rewards—was that God might have to say to this great preacher at the judgment seat of Christ, “Sorry, My son, there is no reward laid up for you now; you got it all below with that statue you let them make of you.” So far, so good. But I was shocked to learn afterward that at least six people were present from this man’s church! By the way, he

was a great man indeed. Now in heaven, if anyone deserved a statue, he did. But after he was gone.


Those in Scripture who built monuments to themselves while they were alive, however, were tragic figures. I have always been gripped by this. In fact, there are two accounts in this connection that have deeply shaped my thinking. First, King Saul had a monument built to himself while he was still alive (1 Sam. 15:12). He had already become yesterday’s man when this happened. Second, years later Absalom stole the hearts of the people and forced his father, King David, to live in exile for a while. David was later restored to the kingship and will always be regarded as Israel’s greatest king. As for Absalom, during his lifetime he took a pillar “and erected it in the King’s Valley as a monument to himself, for he thought, ‘I have no son to carry on the memory of my name.’ He named the pillar after himself, and it is called Absalom’s Monument to this day” (2 Sam. 18:18).


What Matters Most of All


There is one thing—and one thing alone—that ultimately matters: God’s opinion of you and me. If His opinion doesn’t matter to you now, it will then. This opinion will be openly revealed at the judgment seat of Christ. You then will learn what God thinks of you. And you will see what He thinks of me. I can safely promise you that any accolade, humiliation, monument, criticism, put-down, compliment, praise, disappointment, lie, statue, honor, or prize here on this earth will mean nothing then. Nothing. Except how we handled such things—which will largely determine what God thinks of us. Why therefore should we ever want the praise of people here below? Why should it mean so much to us? I will come clean with you: I love compliments. A close friend (who knows me well) had a T-shirt made for my birthday that says “Compliments are in order.” But the thought of preempting what God Himself might say to me on the day—by amassing all the awards and compliments I can get below—scares me to death. I propose to live for that day—seeking no honor or praise but His.


The irony is, if the plaque on Ronald Reagan’s desk is correct—that there is no limit to how far a person can go as long as he doesn’t care who gets to the credit for it—we will accomplish more than ever in this life if we don’t take ourselves so seriously! The way up is down. He who humbles himself will be exalted (Luke 14:11). “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you” (1 Pet. 5:6, esv).


John speaks of worldliness as “the boasting of what [man] has and does” (1 John 2:16). The KJV calls it “pride of life,” and the ESV calls it “pride in possessions.” It refers to our effort to impress people with what we have accumulated. This could refer to material things, achievements, awards, antiques, pottery, photographs with important people, prestigious jobs, degrees, clothes, furniture, art, carpet, cars, framed commendations, or letters—all there to impress you! I fear there are people for whom these things matter more than anything in the world. How sad. I remember going to a home of some people in Rome many years ago. The main reason they wanted me to come to their home was to see their apartment and collection of bone china. It truly was impressive. But this was all they apparently had to bolster their self-esteem. It was as though their apartment and china gave people warrant to take them seriously. They seemed to feel I would take them truly seriously if I saw these possessions. It was all they lived for—to invite people to see their apartment and china collection.


We who are Christians sometimes forget we are going to heaven one day—and will be there a long time! Have you ever pondered the depth of these famous lines?


When we’ve been there ten thousand years,


Bright shining as the sun;


We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise


Than when we first begun.1


—John Newton (1725–1807)


Think about this. After we have been in heaven for ten thousand years, it will be like the first day. Do we really believe this? I do. Why ever do we live in this present world as though this present existence is all there is? It seems to me that the thought of going to heaven one day—to be there forever—should help us on our way not to take circumstances here below—or ourselves—so seriously.







The Power of Humility by R.T. Kendall is a powerful indictment of the popular Christian sin of pride. Kendall, long the pastor of Westminster Chapel in London, England, brings his many years in the pulpit and the Lord's service to this study of how pride affects our faith and hampers our lives. He uses several biblical examples to demonstrate how God punishes those who rely on themselves instead of Him. Kendall even speaks honestly about his own battle with personal pride as well as stories he's witnessed personally. Pride may be the worst sin that keeps us from God, because even Christians can be very guilty of it, often masquerading as false humility. Here's a few of my favorite quotes from the book: You can talk about your failures and disappointments to almost anybody; you can only discuss your successes with a true friend. Pride makes us judge. It is pride that seeks to vindicate ourselves. The apostle Paul had made a huge step forward in this area: he refufsed to clear his name and simply chose to wait for the day God chooses to do it. You will not die by swallowing your pride. This is not always an easy book to read, as readers will often squirm with personal conviction, but it's a vital book to read for deeper faith.

Monday, May 30, 2011

Darkness Follows




This week, the
Christian Fiction Blog Alliance
is introducing
Darkness Follows
Realms (May 3, 2011)

by
Mike Dellosso




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Born in Baltimore, Maryland, Mike now lives in Hanover, Pennsylvania, with his wife, Jen, and their three daughters. He writes a monthly column for Writer . . .Interrupted, was a newspaper correspondent/columnist for over three years, has published several articles for The Candle of Prayer inspirational booklets, and has edited and contributed to numerous Christian-themed Web sites and e-newsletters. Mike is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, the Christian Fiction Blog Alliance, the Relief Writer's Network, the International Christian Writers, and International Thriller Writers. His short stories have appeared with Amazon Shorts and in Coach's Midnight Diner genre anthology. He received his BA degree in sports exercise and medicine from Messiah College and his MBS degree in theology from Master's Graduate School of Divinity.



Mike Dellosso writes novels of suspense for both the mind and the soul. He writes to both entertain and challenge. In addition to his novels, Mike is also an adjunct professor at Lancaster Bible College and a faculty member at the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer's Conference.



ABOUT THE BOOK





Sam Travis lives in a Civil War era farmhouse in Gettysburg, PA, where he awakens one morning to find an old journal with an entry by a Union soldier, Lt. Whiting…written in Sam’s own handwriting. When this happens several more times, both at night and during waking “trances,” Sam begins to question his own sanity while becoming obsessed with Lt. Whiting and his bone-chilling journal entries. As the entries begin to mimic Sam’s own life, he is drawn into an evil plot that could cost many lives, including his own.



Can the unconditional love of Sam's daughter, Eva, break through his hardened heart before a killer on the loose catches up with them and Sam’s past spurs him to do the unthinkable?



If you would like to read the Prologue and first chapter of Darkness Follows, go HERE



Watch the book video:






Darkness Follows by Mike Dellosso is a haunting novel of a father's love. Samuel Travis is recovering from a brain injury that has kept him confined in his home for the last several months and took away his job. Sam is frustrated with his loss of ability and independence and wife Molly and seven-year-old daughter Eva have to bear up under his mood swings. Sam's recovery takes a dark turn when he suddenly starts hearing the voice of his brother Tommy who has been dead for two decades and then finding diary entries from a Civil War soldier written in Sam's own handwriting. Sam tries to put together to clues to understand what's going on while Eva begins having conversations with an imaginary friend named Jacob who looks as though he was dipped in glue and rolled in glitter and tells Eva to tell Sam that she loves him and that Jesus does as well. Meanwhile Pennsylvania state senator Stephen Lincoln has had a sudden change of heart about abortion and is seen by a turncoat by Democrats and possible presidential hopeful by the Republicans. Lincoln is preparing to give the speech of his lifetime in Gettysburg on the anniversary and site of President Lincoln's famous Gettysburg address. And a mysterious man named Symon has come to town with Eva as his target and a quick trigger finger and a obsession with asking his victims if they recognize him. All of these stories come together in a riveting and gut-wrenching climax that left me gasping. Dellosso's writing is absolutely compelling and thrilling. Read this one with the lights on with plenty of time to go from beginning to the last page without stopping for a single bathroom break and for some sections even a single breath! I look forward to every one of Dellosso's books with great anticipation; he's that good.

Friday, May 27, 2011

The Reluctant Detective


This week, the
Christian Fiction Blog Alliance
is introducing
The Reluctant Detective
Monarch Books (April 30, 2011)
by
Martha Ockley




ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Martha Ockley is the pen-name of Rebecca Jenkins. She read history at Oxford University, and spent several years working alongside her father, the Rt. Revd. David Jenkins (Bishop of Durham 1984-94) during the turbulence of the 1980s. She lives in Teesdale in the North East of England where the landscape and history provide the inspiration for her Regency detective, F R Jarrett. Since September 2009 she has been Royal Literary Fund Fellow and Writer in Residence at York St John University. She is a full-time author, writing both fiction and non-fiction. (She should not be confused with a Canadian actor and singer, also called Rebecca Jenkins.)





ABOUT THE BOOK



The Reluctant Detective sees Faith Morgan arriving back in the region of her birth - Winchester in Hampshire. Recently ordained, she had been working as a curate in an Anglican inner-city church. Within an hour of her arrival at Little Worthy, she witnesses the sudden shocking death of a fellow priest during a communion service at St James's. He had been poisoned with a pesticide mixed with the communion wine. The senior police officer who arrives at the scene turns out to be Detective Inspector Ben Shorter, Faith's ex long-term boyfriend.



She is urged by the Bishop to stay on to look after the parish of Little Worthy. As she meets her parishioners she learns some surprising facts about her apparently well loved predecessor, and starts to suspect a motive for his death. And it is she who finally identifies the murderer.



The story gets off to a dramatic start with the previous vicar collapsing as soon as he drank the communion cup, and it holds the interest throughout. There is some romantic interest too. Inspector Ben Shorter starts by sneeringly telling his sergeant, "Ms Morgan is a vicar. One of the ordained," Ben emphasized the word. “She's a card-carrying professional at the touchy-feely stuff.” But he soon starts to feel differently about her again, although she is well aware that he "didn't understand the reality she experienced through her faith. He didn't even recognize its existence. That was the gulf between them." Her own beliefs and doubts are convincingly described, for even she can't help wondering, "What if there is no truth to it?" But for her, as for Pascal before her, it was a gamble worth taking.



If you would like to read the first chapter of The Reluctant Detective, go HERE

The Reluctant Detective by Martha Ockley is the first book in the Faith Morgan series about a newly ordained priest who left behind not just her career as a policewoman, but also her former lover  Detective Inspector Ben Shorter. Faith has been called to the village of Little Worthy to check it out as a possible home parish. Instead she witnesses the current priest's shocking death from drinking poisoned communion wine. The bishop quickly asks Faith to fill in as Little Worthy's priest, and she can't seem to leave behind her old police instincts to investigate the crime while she gets to know her new community. Complicating affairs is the investigating officer: Ben Shorter, bringing up feelings they both thought deeply buried. Ockley neatly connects the jobs of detective and priest as both seekers of the truth, and Faith struggles with her new position and old habits. Faith is in an intriguing character who must juggle the delicate job of entering a new parish, dealing with the politics of religious bureaucracy, and a difficult relationship with her elder sister, Ruth, with whom she must room until finding a permanent parish home. The mystery is shocking, as is the tragedy that follows, but Ockley avoids sensationalizing them, keeping the focus on the characters rather than the gore. This is a quiet mystery, it builds slowly over the course of the story as Faith puts the pieces carefully together. Faith is a multi-layered character who is very empathetic. The Reluctant Detective is a cerebral mystery with plenty of twists and turns and deep character development. I hope that Faith Morgan will be back very soon.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Getting it right from the inside out

Last night when reading my bible, I was struck by one of those truths that should be completely and utterly obvious, but I had never truly considered before: when the Israelites were right with God internally, nothing could harm them, but when they weren't right with God, then external threats had a field day at them. I know this is true. I've often told my children this using an umbrella as my analogy. I just explained it to Mia the other day: when you are listening to God and following His will, you are under His umbrella, and He will keep you safe from the rain that falls in life, but when you deliberately sin or refuse to listen to Him, He folds up the umbrella, allowing the world's troubles to rain on you. He doesn't do it as a punishment, but as an incentive to return to Him. He wants you to get sick of getting wet and cold and return to Him.

I knew that logically, but it didn't really sink in until my reading last night. I've been reading the Bible again, starting with Genesis, so I've been following along the Israelites on their journey from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land, a journey that readily mimics that of my own life. Let me refresh your memory, if you don't mind, with the story.

The Israelites moved to Egypt to escape a famine in their own land, a land that God had promised their patriarch, Abraham. After four hundred years in Egypt, the pharaoh enslaved them until Moses came with a directive from the Lord to "Let my people go!" After ten plagues (and the death of his firstborn son), the pharaoh finally gave in and released them, only to change his mind and give chase. God demonstrated his power by parting the Red Sea for the Israelites to cross and then killing all of the pursuing Egyptians by bringing the waters together again. Moses spent the next forty years leading the Israelites through the desert while God taught them what it meant to be his followers. They learned what holy meant through dietary and cleanliness laws. They learned how to respect God through festivals and sacrifices, and they learned how to treat each other through a series of laws regarding personal interactions. During this time there were several times when the Israelites whined and complained and once in awhile even had full out rebellions. All of which were put down by God and Moses.

Eventually they reached the Promised Land, and Moses gave the people a long good-bye speech (all of Deuteronomy) which recapped their history, the laws God had given them, and then gave them both a prophecy of the future, and instructions on how to return to God's care when they had left it. Even then, even when the people were on the verge of their greatest success, God already knew that they would abandon Him, so He gave them a roadmap to find their way back.

Moses died, Joshua took up the reins of leadership, and the Israelites started invading Canaan, defeating their enemies along the way with few exceptions. In fact, the only times the people lost battles were when they disobeyed God's orders (Achan and the battle of Ai) or didn't seek his advice before moving forward (the Gibeonites). But as long as the Israelites were following God, they won all of their battles, every single one!

Look at the book of Judges. The people turned away from God to other gods, God took away His protection, another country came in and enslaved them, they cried out for help, God raised up a Judge, the Judge defeated the invaders, the people rejoiced and praised God, the people turned away from God, God took away His protection, etc, etc. That's pretty much the entire book of Judges!

David was said to be "a man after God's own heart" and used his power to unite the country and make them truly prosperous. He defeated the Philistines and the other area tribes, because God always had his back. Solomon, David's son, reaped the rewards of this and also ruled in peace. Rehoboam, Solomon's son, however thought that his power came from his crown, not from the Lord, and quickly alienated many of the tribes, separating the Jewish people into two countries: Israel and Judah. The books of 1 & 2 Kings and 1 & 2 Chronicles (the latter of which are essentially the politically correct re-issues of 1 & 2 Kings) tell of how both countries nearly competed with each other for most depraved, and before they knew it, they were not only fighting each other, but the surrounding countries were attacking them again.

Rather than return to God, the people continued to sacrifice their children to Molech, worship in forest shrines, and prostitute themselves in the Temple. They even turned God's Temple, His home in Jerusalem into a temple for Baal. The results were inevitable: first Israel and then Judah were conquered, their cities destroyed, their people taken into captivity. God had known this outcome was coming, that they would lose their place in this Promised Land before they ever set foot in it.

This truth, that we have to be right internally with God to be safe from external threats doesn't just apply to the Israelites three thousand years ago. It applies to marriage, to our families, to churches, and most of all, to us as individuals. If we aren't right with God, listening to Him, following His word, loving Him and living the life He's given us, we can and and should expect attacks from the outside! And Satan will attack us with discouragement, depression, or anger. Yes, we can also expect him to attack us when we are right with God, because he hates to see that. But when we're on the right track, God will protect us from the worst of it. You may think it's as bad as it can get, but you have no idea what God kept you from.

I see this in my own life, very clearly. The worst times in my life have come when I was farthest from God. This year I have faced some terrible days, because those I loved had stepped out from under the umbrella, but I know that I've made it through because of my relationship with God, because no matter what has come my way, I've turned to Him, and He has given me the strength to weather it through. He'll do the same for you. Turn to Him, pray to Him, and join me under the umbrella; there's always room for one more.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Now You See Her


Today was not a very auspicious beginning to a very busy and important week. Yesterday after Mia's dance recital, my body threw up the white flag and I took to the bed to try and rest. The pain was so terrible that I took an extra pain pill in hopes of getting a good night's sleep. Instead, I was up all night scratching, which is a side effect of oxycontin. I spent the entire night, until after 5 am this morning, in a daze. Every time I dozed off, I would wake up scratching my body frantically, even my face and nose itched. Finally I'd settle down, start to pray and drift off, only to wake up and repeat the pattern ad nauseum. I am exhausted, and I have far too much to do this week to have time to be sick.

Tomorrow I need to work in preparation for a huge meeting on Thursday that I organize and run. Wednesday night is Senior Banquet, Thursday morning is Senior Awards Ceremony, followed by my meeting. Saturday we're going up to my uncle's for a family cook-out and Sunday is Molly's graduation. It's a busy week with a lot of people depending on me. I'll be leaning on the Lord to get me through. He always does, and I trust in His unfailing love.

Today's pictures are of yesterday's recital. Mia danced in four different routines and did a terrific job. I'm so proud of my baby girl!

Now You See HerNow You See Her by Joy Fielding is a roller-coaster ride of duplicity, suspense, and pain. Marcy Taggart has taken her twenty-fifth anniversary trip to Ireland without her husband, Paul, who left her for a golf instructor from their country club. Their marriage had floundered for years, but their daughter Devon's seeming suicide killed their union as well. While Marcy is in a Irish pub, she is sure she sees Devon, and this sends her on a crazy trip through seedy nightclubs, the Irish countryside, and all over Cork as she searches to find her missing daughter. Paul and Marcy's sister, Judith, are certain that Marcy is having a breakdown, because she's been "sure" that she's found Devon several times before in the last two years, but this time, Marcy has Liam, a waiter at the pub, who is sure he can help her find Devon, and isn't deterred by the fifteen years between them. Fielding excels at writing suspense novels with female characters that are full of twists, turns, and jaw-dropping revelations, but she pushes the limits a bit much in Now You Can See Her. Readers will empathize with the police who question Marcy again and again and keep coming to the conclusion that this is a tortured woman at the brink of insanity. Marcy's actions aren't just those of a embattled mother searching for her child, but of a woman refusing to see anything but the logic of her own actions. Despite the flaws, I still couldn't put the book down, Fielding grabbed me and even though I knew what was coming, I wanted to see how she got me there. It's an entertaining read, even when it doesn't make sense.

Thank you to Atria Books for providing me with a copy of this book for review!

Friday, May 20, 2011

The Alchemy of Murder

Today I wanted to share a list of some of the quotes I've come across that recently touched my heart, things that when I read them I had to write in my journal so I would never forget them. Maybe one will touch you, make you think twice, and want to tuck it forever into your heart as well.

The fortress of a mother's heart, whether it be of a human mother, or a hen mother, or a tiger mother, is the most impregnable fortress the world knows, and yet the tenderest. And it is this sort of a fortress that the Lord is. -Hannah Whitall Smith, The God of All Comfort

To be bad is to know the right and not to do it, but to be good is to do the best we know. -ibid

I didn't go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you really feel comfortable, I certainly don't recommend Christianity. -C.S. Lewis

You will not die by swallowing your pride. -R.T. Kendall, The Power of Humility

If you judge people, you have no time to love them. -Mother Theresa

Christ came into the world to save sinners, not good people, and your unworthiness is your greatest claim for His salvation. -Hannah Whitall Smith, The God of All Comfort

Immature Christians want the Lord to give them rules and regulations to cover every area of life and this explains why they're immature. If we never have to pray, search the Scriptures, counsel with others, and wait on the Lord, we will never exercise our "spiritual muscles" and grow up. -Transformation Bible study notes on Leviticus 24

This unfinished name of God [I AM] seems to me like a blank check signed by a rich friend given to us to be filled in with whatever sum we may desire. -Hannah Whitall Smith, The God of All Comfort

Comfort and peace can never come from anything we know about ourselves, but only and always from what we know about Him. -ibid

So long as there are people who lack necessities, a person who has more than he needs is holding the goods of another. -St. Augustine

...compared to the Pacific of eternity, even the years of Methuselah filled is no more than a glass. -Max Lucado, Max on Life

Every difficulty God permits us to encounter will become either a test that can make us better or a temptation that can make us worse, and it's our own attitude that determines which it will be. -Transformation Bible study notes on Exodus 17

It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, it is why he does it. - A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

...faith is the gaze of a soul upon a saving God. -ibid

The Alchemy of MurderThe Alchemy of Murder by Carol McCleary is the first book in the Nellie Bly mystery series. McCleary presents this story as the long-lost record of Bly's search for a murderer that led her from a mental institution in New York to London to Paris' World Expo. While Nellie did her famous stint in Blackwell's Island, an infamous mental asylum for women, she became friends with a prostitute named Josephine who disappeared after a doctor offers her a way off the island if she will help him with an experiment. When Nellie tries to follow Josephine, she discovers the hideous remains of her friend and is attacked by the doctor before he burns down his laboratory during his escape. When the Jack the Ripper murders hit the news, Nellie heads to London to try and prove that the perpetrator is the same man, and she follows him again to Paris where she meets Jules Verne, Oscar Wilde, and Louis Pasteur in her investigation. McCleary does a terrific job with this new series. Nellie is a delightful heroine, quick with a lie, unafraid to stand up for herself, and courageous in her quest to find her friend's killer. The dark days when anarchy and assassinations were popping up all over Europe come to life and keep the tension high. McCleary keeps the readers hearts pounding by revealing fairly quickly that Nellie is trusting absolutely the wrong person, but a revelation in the climax is truly unexpected. Fans of Rhys Bowen and Laurie R. King will enjoy the taut mystery with touches of humor, romance, and darkness.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Holy Guacamole

Holy GuacamoleHoly Guacamole by Dan and Denise Harmer is a wild ride of romance, faith, and thrills. Trace Domingo is a journalist best known for his expose of roid raging athletes when he signs up for a stint at a culinary boot camp run by famed Cowgirl Cuisine chef Bonnie Miller, best known for her motto: If you are what you eat, make it hot, spicy, and irresistible. But he has no idea what he's really in for with the hot-tempered yet fragile cook who quickly pulls him into her orbit. The blurb and cover make the book look like a sweet but humorous romance, but that is misleading. Readers are best advised to suspend their disbelief and go along for the crazy escapades of this duo that include finding Zorro's hideout, complete with cape, sword, and mysterious diary, being kidnapped by the Mexican mafia and held for ransom, rescuing a young woman from the clutches of a pedophile, and somehow in the middle of all of the wacky events, falling in love. I think that the writers perhaps threw in a few too many subplots, bu the story is certainly never boring. Bonnie is a sympathetic character with a remarkable history, and readers will ache for her as a bullied and abused child. Trace, however, doesn't get the same treatment and is just as much of a mystery when the ends as when it began. He's a great guy, but there's no history or knowing where he came from and why he is who he is. The Harmers are great at creating a plethora of intriguing characters and I hope that they make use of some of these again, especially Lucy and Sunshine. It's a good beach read with a message of hope and God's turning good out of evil in the end.

Thank you to Glass Road Publicity for providing me with a copy of this book for review!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Redeemer

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

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


Today's Wild Card author is:


and the book:

Realms (May 3, 2011)
***Special thanks to Anna Coelho Silva | Publicity Coordinator, Charisma House | Charisma Media for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:



Linda Rios Brook has worked as a media executive in broadcasting for over thirty years. A highly acclaimed teacher and member of the International Coalition of Apostles, she teaches at the Covenant Centre International in Palm Beach Gardens and at the Wagner Leadership Institute in Colorado Springs. Linda serves on the board of directors for Global Harvest and is vice president of the International Christian Chamber of Commerce USA. She has taught classes on the Dominion Sky Angel satellite network and is the author of several books: Lucifer’s Flood, The Deliverer, The King, Frontline Christians in a Bottom Line World, Wake Me When It’s Over: From the Boardroom to the Twilight Zone and the Faithfulness of God, and Jesus for Adults.

Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

As the final installment in the series that began with Lucifer’s Flood, Linda Rios Brook’s The Redeemer finds ancient language expert Samantha Yale translating a final batch of ancient scrolls written by a fallen angel. This volume of writings covers the demon’s eyewitness accounts of biblical events that cover the life of Jesus. In the process we also discover the mysterious Mr. Wonk’s true identity and learn an amazing secret that Samantha has been keeping. This is a story about rebellion and consequences. It is about demonic strategy to disrupt and destroy the people of God. But ultimately it is a story about the unrelenting love, grace, mercy, and determination of a sovereign God in pursuit of His errant children.

Product Details:

List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Realms (May 3, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616382066
ISBN-13: 978-1616382063

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

I never knew how Satan was going to react to bad news, so I waited as long as possible before mentioning the new star-like object. At the slightest chance an irregularity might resolve itself, I usually saved myself the grief and didn’t tell him.
This time I may have waited too long.

Satan stared at the glowing ball hanging in the vacuous space between the heavens. “How long has it been there?”

“I’m not sure, sir. It appeared suddenly. I watched it for a few days, and when it didn’t disappear, I called for you; that is, as soon as I realized it might be important. But then on the other hand, perhaps it means nothing.”
He leaned over the ledge, looked down, and then back up at the strange new light.
“You should have notified me immediately.”

“My fault entirely, All-Knowing One.”

“I knew you were dumb—always have been. How could you think something like this appearing in my territory without my permission could mean nothing?”

Trick question.
“I meant to say maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you— personally. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered you until I was sure.”

“It’s your fault for not telling me sooner if this turns out to be trouble for me.”
He was becoming agitated. I needed to diffuse the situation.

“Oh, you know what it probably is? I should have remembered. Before we were thrown out of heaven, Adonai was always making new stars, but some of them didn’t turn out, and He threw them away. This one is probably a reject. He tossed it here to get it out of

His way.”
I paused to gauge his reaction. When he didn’t have one, I kept talking.

“Of course, that’s just what it is, nothing but a botched star. I should have figured it out before I interrupted you. A thousand pardons...”
“It’s not a star.”
“You’re right; it’s not.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“That would be impossible, sir.”

I knew it wasn’t a star, but it shone like one, and I had to call it something. I was about to explain my choice of descriptors when Molech arrived.
“You sent for me, my lord.” Molech bowed his head, as all lesser beings were required to do when addressing Satan.

“Do you see it?” Satan pointed toward the light.

“Yes, it’s been there for weeks. We’ve all been watching it.”

“Weeks?” Satan snarled and looked at me.

“Uh, well, it’s like this, master—” I had to think of something fast, or I would be so found out. It was my job to watch and report anything unusual immediately. For sure a new light source fixed in the sky as if tethered by an invisible wire over a small town on

the earth would, by anyone’s interpretation, fall into the unusual category. The truth was, of late I’d grown lax about monitoring the earth.

Ever since the prophets died off, God seemed to have lost interest and hadn’t said a word to the Jews in four hundred and thirty years. Humanity was not that interesting without God, and I got bored. I hadn’t been watching Earth every day like I should have been. I still checked on it on a somewhat regular basis, but the truth was, I didn’t know where the light came from or how long it had been there. One look at Satan’s scowl and I knew I’d better find something to say in my defense.
“As you know, master,” I continued, “I’m always at my post watching, but my vision isn’t what it used to be. Recently I’ve seen a number of things that weren’t there, and knowing how busy you are, I didn’t want to trouble you with a figment of my poor eyesight and vivid imagination. But as soon as I knew it was real, I notified you right away, O Sovereign One ever to be praised.”

“God is behind this,” Satan said to Molech, ignoring me entirely. “Send scouts; find out what He’s planning. Miss nothing.”

“As you say, my liege.”
Molech spread his leathery wings and was off. Satan watched the light a little longer and then went back to his lair without saying another word to me. I hopped up on my perch to study the light more closely.

What can it be? Have I ever seen anything like this? No. So why does it seem familiar?
As I strained to recollect, a long-dormant memory woke up in the back of my mind and wiggled its way to the front. Goosebumps formed on my tail as it all came back to me.

How could I have forgotten? I was right here on this very perch when I saw it the first time.
It was after we were thrown out of heaven, thousands of years ago when Lucifer ordered me to watch the earth languish in devastation after he and his rebellious angels ravaged it until there was nothing left of the beautiful blue-and-green planet except for the black, swirling waters. I was with them, but it wasn’t my fault, and I wasn’t a rebel. I was a victim of circumstance.
I was standing in the wrong place when the war in heaven broke out, weighing the odds between Lucifer and Michael, trying to make up my mind what to do, as any reasonable person would, given the situation. When I figured out that there was no possibility Lucifer could win, I was just about to walk over to Michael’s side; then suddenly the

war was over, and Lucifer and one-third of the angels were cast to the earth. I got caught in the downdraft and fell with them. Five minutes more and none of this would have happened to me.

The day things changed for the earth I was right here at my post in the second heaven watching the dank waters that covered it. I confess that from time to time the boredom became unbearable, and I would close my eyes and let my mind wander to a happier time when I was still in the third heaven with God. Fortunately for me, I wasn’t wandering that day. I scanned the sea like always, and like always I saw nothing happening—except for one tiny glimmer that appeared in the black water.

“It can’t be light,” I said to myself. “There is no light left anywhere on the earth.” I looked again. “That is definitely a glimmer of light.”
I got a little closer and watched as the luminous ripples grew bigger and spread further until the murkiness of the water began to clear. When I finally figured out what was happening, I wanted to run and hide.

Ruah Ha Kadosh was hovering over the deep. I was a witness when God began the re-creation of the fallen earth.

“There’s something about this star, or whatever it is, that feels like the light I saw in the seas so long ago.” I scratched my head. “But how could it be?”
I continued to watch the glow for several more hours until I heard the beating of wings. Molech was back with a cadre of platoon leaders. They set themselves down on the steps leading into Satan’s throne room. I hurried to catch up and followed them inside.

“What have you learned?” Satan demanded. “Something is happening on the earth, isn’t it?”
“That may be, my lord.” Molech paused and exchanged looks with Tammuz, the demon to his right. “But whatever might be happening on the earth cannot be nearly as important as what has happened in the third heaven.”
“How could you know anything about the third heaven?” I blurted out before I could catch myself. “We have no access there anymore.”

Molech glared at me. “You have no access, but my associate here”—he nodded toward Tammuz—“has, shall we say, sources.”

Tammuz stepped forward and bowed to Satan. “My lord, legions of angels are leaving the third heaven—right now—and are heading to the earth.”
Any news involving the heavenly host always made Satan’s eyes twitch, especially if the word legions was in the same sentence.

“But there’s more.” Molech prodded Tammuz along by poking him on the arm. “Tell him the rest—the part about Adonai.”

Satan’s twitching eyes widened.
“I was coming to that,” Tammuz said. “Adonai is missing.”

“Missing?” Satan squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Do you mean to say they’ve misplaced Him?”
Neither Molech nor Tammuz laughed at the ridiculous nature of Satan’s question, and I certainly didn’t, but only because I clamped my teeth over my tongue.
“He’s gone, master,” Tammuz said.

“Vanished,” Molech added. “He’s left the third heaven.”

“Impossible,” Satan declared. “He never leaves home. Besides, where would He go? You’re mistaken and wasting my time.”

Satan drew back his arm as if he might strike the messengers. Molech and Tammuz cowered and stepped back.

“He’s not there, my lord,” Tammuz said. “My sources looked everywhere. He’s gone. The rank-and-file angels are as perplexed as we are.”

Satan lifted an eyebrow.
“There was one witness to something strange.” Tammuz chose his words carefully. “Someone saw the host lined up in front of the throne room, facing each other with their swords drawn and crossed.”

“And?” Satan waved his claw hand in circles, urging Tammuz to say whatever he was trying not to say.

“And the witness saw Adonai come out of the throne room, walk under the crossed swords, and leave. No one has seen Him since.”

“It’s a trick.” Satan walked across the floor and kicked over a footstool, then turned back to Molech. “Where could He have gone?”

“The angels don’t know, sire, not even the elite guard. They are as mystified as you—I mean us; of course you are never mystified.”

Suddenly the door flew open as Baal, Satan’s highest-ranking demon god, barged into the room without being announced. He was breathing so hard we could barely understand him.

“You’ve got to come now, master—to the rim. We’re about to be overrun by them. Hurry!”
“Overrun by what? Whom?” I asked.

“Angels!”
“Are we being invaded?” Satan demanded.

“You must come and see for yourself.”

Wasting no more time, Satan raced with Baal to the edge of the second heaven with the rest of us right behind them. We lined up along the perimeter, where we had a clear view of the earth and all that lay in between it and us. Baal hadn’t exaggerated. Tens of thousands of high-ranking angels were gathering above the earth’s blue sky.

“What are they doing?” Satan asked.

I didn’t realize he was talking to me until he slapped me and demanded an answer.
“I, uh, well, I’m not sure, sir, but it doesn’t look like they’re coming here. It looks like they may be about to penetrate the veil between heaven and the earth and reveal themselves to that group of shepherds down there in the fields.”



“Nonsense. The heavenly host wouldn’t waste their time on gypsies. Besides, I’m sure it would be an illegal military maneuver.”

He was about to huff off when Baal tugged on his sleeve.

“Moron may be right.” He was referring to me. “Look at how the shepherds are scattering. They definitely see the angels.”

We watched as some of the shepherds ran away in fear, while others trembled and fell to their knees. But let me tell you, the trembling ones weren’t by themselves. There were no heroes in the demon horde that day either. We didn’t know why the angels had gathered,

but if it had anything to do with us, we knew we were outmanned by two to one. The chatter among the demons began.

“Why are the angels out there?”
“Is there going to be a fight?”
“Look, they’re closing ranks!”

“Ask Satan what we should do.”

Satan grabbed me by my wing.
“Find out what this means,” he ordered as he pushed me nearer the rim. “Get closer.” Then he pushed me off the edge.

I flapped as hard as I could to keep from falling. I was afraid of what the angels might do if they noticed me, but I knew what Satan would do if I didn’t obey, so I carefully fluttered a little farther out over the abyss where I could see them better. As I got closer, I realized the angels weren’t wearing their combat gear; there was not a sword in sight. They were lining up in choir formation.

“Are they going to attack?” Satan yelled out at me.

“No, sir, I believe they’re going to sing.”

“What?” Satan asked in disbelief as he flew to my side to see for himself.
And sing they did. The angelic royalty of heaven went near the earth and sang a song to fewer than a dozen cowering shepherds.

“Fear not, for behold we bring you glad tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For born unto you tonight in the city of David is the Messiah, the Lord who will bring salvation to all mankind. Go, and you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”
The angels’ voices were so loud we covered our ears to muffle the sounds as they continued.
“Glory to God in the highest and on the earth, peace and goodwill toward men.”
I was terrified like all the rest but so excited by what the angels sang I could barely contain myself. I followed Satan back to the rim and tried to appear as disturbed as the rest of the demons, but inside I was bursting with hope. How long I had waited for Him—the one promised to David so many generations ago. Oh, yes, He was the hope of the Jews, but He was my hope as well, my only hope.

The veil between heaven and the earth closed, and the angels were no longer visible to the shepherds or to us; still, no one moved from his place. It was almost as if an invisible force held us there. We seemed hypnotized by the light that still hung over the blackness of the great abyss.
“What was that all about?” asked one of the demons.

“Maybe Satan knows.”
“Yes, Satan must know.”
But Satan didn’t know. When he heard the chattering among the demons, he whispered to me out of the side of his mouth.

“Do you think it’s over? Should we move on?”

“Can you move, sir?”
He grimaced as he tried to lift a hoof. I pretended not to be looking.

“Maybe we should wait a bit longer,” I said.

I didn’t know what was coming, but the tingling scales on the back of my neck told me something else was about to happen. At once another blinding light appeared and hovered over the abyss right in front of Satan. I knew him immediately. It was Gabriel, the essenger angel of the most high God. All the demons took one step back. Except for me.

“Gabriel! Hello.” I stepped forward and waved.

Satan stepped on my tail and jerked my wing. “Stay still and shut up!”

“Sorry, sir.” I slunk back.
“Lucifer, fallen son of the light.” Gabriel’s voice was like thunder.

“What do you want?” Satan tried to appear annoyed, but his swishing tail said he was nervous. “You’re in my territory.”

“I bring you a message from I AM, one that will be good news to all mankind.”
“Then why are you telling me?”

“Guess what it means for you.”

Every demon took another step back.

“Wha–what is it?” Satan stammered.

The angel’s eyes narrowed as he answered.

“Game on.”


The Redeemer by Linda Rios Brook is the fourth book in the Reluctant Demon series. We have followed our unnamed protagonist through the previous three books as he "accidentally" falls from heaven with the rest of the demons when Lucifer rebels against God and then is assigned by Satan to watch over the Jewish people and report back to the devil about God's dealing with them. Our "hero" has watched Adam and Even get the boot from Eden, Moses lead the Israelites out of Egypt, and King David unite the twelve tribes together in peace under his rule. While observing the humans, he has come to understand much of how they think, and he's spent an enormous amount of time trying to compile a solid argument to someday present to God for his repentance. In The Redeemer, even Satan is shaken when he discovers that Adonai has disappeared from second heaven and that the Messiah has been born on earth. The reluctant demon quickly figures out that Adonai has left heaven to be born on earth as Jesus, the Messiah, but he can't figure out what blood has to do with anything and why is Satan so insistent that Jesus die any way BUT on the cross. He is present from Christ's birth to his baptism to his crucifixion and along the way, he comes to fall in love with this Messiah who refuses to listen to his wisdom but sometimes gives the slightest hint that He knows the demon is there. Brook has done a magnificent job of reinterpreting first the Old Testament and here the Gospels in a fresh way through the eyes of a new witness who has an unusual perspective on things. Brook offers readers unfamiliar with the Bible an intriguing way understanding it, and for those who have heard these stories again and again, she gives new life. There is also a modern day element to the story as the demon's scrolls are discovered and forces jockey for control of them, and it appears that there may be a sequel based on this. I hope so. I'm not ready yet to say good-bye to our hapless, often hopeless, cowardly yet trustworthy hero who retells these familiar stories with humor while making them deeply personal through his desire for redemption.

Monday, May 16, 2011

How Huge the Night

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

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


Today's Wild Card authors are:


and the book:

Kregel Publications (March 9, 2011)
***Special thanks to Cat Hoort of Kregel Publications for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:


Heather Munn was born in Northern Ireland of American parents and grew up in the south of France. She decided to be a writer at the age of five when her mother read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books aloud, but worried that she couldn’t write about her childhood since she didn’t remember it. When she was young, her favorite time of day was after supper when the family would gather and her father would read a chapter from a novel. Heather went to French school until her teens, and grew up hearing the story of Le Chambonsur-Lignon, only an hour’s drive away. She now lives in rural Illinois with her husband, Paul, where they offer free spiritual retreats to people coming out of homelessness and addiction. She enjoys wandering in the woods, gardening, writing, and splitting wood.

Lydia Munn was homeschooled for five years because there was no school where her family served as missionaries in the savannahs of northern Brazil. There was no public library either, but Lydia read every book she could get her hands on. This led naturally to her choice of an English major at Wheaton College. Her original plan to teach high school English gradually transitioned into a lifelong love of teaching the Bible to both adults and young people as a missionary in France. She and her husband, Jim, have two children: their son, Robin, and their daughter, Heather.


SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

When had God ever stopped a war because a teenager asked him to?

For fifteen-year-old Julien Losier, life will never be the same. His family has relocated to southern France to outrun Hitler’s menace. But Julien doesn’t want to run. He doesn’t want to huddle around the radio at night, waiting to hear news through buzzing static. Julien doesn’t want to wait.
Angry, frustrated, and itching to do something, Julien finds a battle everywhere he turns.
Soon after his family opens their house to a Jewish boy needing refuge, Julien meets Nina, a young Austrian who has fled her home by her father’s dying command. Nina’s situation is grave and Julien suddenly realizes the enormity of having someone’s life or death depend on… him.

Thrown together by a conflict that’s too big for them to understand, these young lives struggle to know what to do, even if it is not enough. Is there a greater purpose in the shadows of this terrible war? Or will their choices put them in greater danger?

Endorsements:

“The Munns have written an engrossing historical novel that is faithful to the actual events of World War II in western Europe during the tumultuous year 1940. But How Huge the Night is more than good history; it is particularly refreshing because the reader sees the conflict through the lives of teenagers who are forced to grapple with their honest questions about the existence and goodness of God in the midst of community, family, and ethnic tensions in war-ravaged France.”—Lyle W. Dorsett, Billy Graham Professor of Evangelism, Beeson Divinity School, Samford University

“Seldom have the horrors of war upon adolescents—or the heroism of which they are capable—been so clearly portrayed. I loved this coming-of-age story.”—Patricia Sprinkle, author of Hold Up the Sky


“The book expertly weaves together the lives of its characters at a frightening moment in conflicted times. As we read of their moral dilemmas and of their choices, we too wonder, Would I do has these in the story have done?”—Karen Mains, Director, Hungry Souls



Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Kregel Publications (March 9, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 082543310X
ISBN-13: 978-0825433108

AND NOW...AN EXCERPT:

From Chapter 23

Thursday the power came back on. They sat in the living room, around the radio that crackled with static; they looked at each other, and then away. The room grew quiet as the announcer began to speak.

“Since Mussolini’s declaration of war on France two days ago, Italian troops are pushing west—”

Mama was on her feet. “The thief!” she hissed. “The backstabber, the coward!” Her face was red. Everyone was staring. She sat down.

Papa looked at her. “Saw his chance, I guess.”

“He’s a shame to his nation,” Mama snapped. Julien stared. Then they heard the shift in the announcer’s voice and turned sharply to the radio.

“German troops are approaching Paris at a rapid pace. As we speak, the vanguard is reported to be fifteen kilometers from Versailles. This will be our last broadcast for a while.”

They did not look at each other. The silence was total.

“Today Paris has been declared an ‘open city.’ Our military will not defend it. This decision was made to avoid bombardment and the great destruction and loss of life that it entails. . . .”

Julien realized he had not been breathing. It was an amazing thing, breathing. Tears shone in Mama’s eyes.

“They won’t bomb Paris,” said Papa quietly.

“They won’t bomb Paris,” Mama whispered.

Benjamin stood, his face very still. He walked slowly to the door and took the stairs.

Julien waited, breathing, seeing Paris; seeing Vincent and his mother look up out of their second-floor window at a clear blue sky. He waited until the news ended, until they had read a psalm that said The Lord has delivered.

Then he followed Benjamin.

Benjamin’s door was closed. Julien hesitated, biting his lip, and went into his own room.

He looked out the window in the fading light. They wouldn’t defend it. This was it, then. What Pastor Alex said was true. German tanks would roll down the Champs-Elysées for real in just a couple days. Then the boches would come here. And they would stay.

He pulled Vincent’s last letter out from under his nightstand. I can’t believe you almost died, it said. That’s crazy. He got up, and went and knocked on Benjamin’s door.

No answer.

“Benjamin? You all right?”

“Fine.”

Julien opened the door. Benjamin turned quickly, scowling.

“Did I say you could come in?”

“Well sorry,” Julien growled. How am I supposed to help when he’s like this? “Just wanted to say good night.”

“Good night then.”

“Look, it’s not as bad as it could have been, okay? They could have bombed the place to shreds like Ro—” He bit his tongue.

“You’re right,” said Benjamin, looking away. “That’s good for your relatives. I’m glad.”

“And your parents!”

“Nothing’s good for my parents.” His voice was toneless. “Look, Julien, we can talk about this in the morning. I need to go to bed.”

Julien knew when to quit. He turned away. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

But he couldn’t. He turned and turned in his bed, twisting the sheets.

He got up and looked out at the crescent moon and the stars high over Tanieux, so white, so far, always the same; they would still be there when the Germans were here; they would still be there all his life. They were still there over Rotterdam, too. It didn’t make any difference.

When he finally slept, he dreamed: Paris on the fourteenth of July, the fireworks, bursts of blue, of gold, of red above the city. A whirling rocket going up with a hiss and a bang. Then a louder bang. Then a bang that threw up a great shower of dirt and stones, and people screaming, people running as the shells began to fall—

He woke, and lay shivering. He got up to close the window. The stars shone down like cold eyes.

He heard a faint scratching. Mice maybe. A floorboard creaked. He listened.

And he heard it. Very slow, stealthy footsteps going down the stairs.

He sat up slowly. Magali or Benjamin. Tiptoeing down the stairs to the kitchen, wishing there was something to eat. . . . He got out of bed and leaned out the window, watching for the faint light that would come through from the kitchen. No light came.

But on the ground floor, the heavy front door opened, and a dark shape slipped out into the street. A shadow with a suitcase in its hand.

He ran across the hall and threw open Benjamin’s door. A neatly made bed, a letter on the pillow. He grabbed it, ran back to his room, jerked his pants on over his pajamas, and ran downstairs in his socks. He’d catch him. Benjamin was on foot. He had to catch him. He scrawled on the flip side of the note, I’ve gone after him, pulled on his shoes and jacket, and flew down the stairs and into the dark.

He raced down the shadowed street and stopped at the corner, heart pounding, looking both ways. North, over the hill: the road to St. Etienne. A train to Paris, like he’d said? There were no trains now. Or south—south to where? Oh Lord if I choose wrong I’ll never find him.

Think. What would he do if it were him? He’d go south—north was suicide, but—he didn’t know, he didn’t know Benjamin. Who did? Nothing is good for my parents, he’d said—he didn’t seem to even care that Paris wouldn’t be bombed—

Because his parents weren’t in Paris.

Julien turned, suddenly sure, and ran.

The Kellers had left Germany because of Hitler and his people. Would they stay in Paris and wait for them? “Let’s walk south,” Benjamin had said—and that stupid map—he should have guessed.

He ran, breathing hard, his eyes on the dark road ahead. Oh God. Oh Jesus. Don’t let me miss him please—please—

He broke free of the houses; the Tanne gleamed in front of him under the splintered moon, cut by the dark curve of the bridge. He froze. He ducked into the shadows and breathed.

There on the bridge was a slender figure leaning on the parapet, looking down at the dark water.

Oh God. Oh Jesus. Now what?

Benjamin turned and took a long, last look at Tanieux. Then he adjusted his backpack, picked up his suitcase, and walked away.

Julien slipped out of the shadows and up to the bridge, his heart beating help me Jesus help me, his mind searching for words. Come home. And if he said no? Drag him? Help me Jesus. He was across the bridge, ten paces behind Benjamin; he broke into a silent run on the grassy verge of the road. He caught up to him. Laid a hand on his arm.

“Benjamin.”

Benjamin whirled, eyes wild in the moonlight. They stared at each other. “Why.” said Julien. “Tell me why.” His voice was harder than he meant it to be.

“Let me go.”

“No.” He tightened his grip on Benjamin’s arm.

Benjamin tried to pull away. “Julien, let me go. You have no idea. You have no idea what they’re like.”

“The boches?” This time his voice came out small.

“The Nazis, Julien. Ever heard of them? Yeah, you heard they don’t like Jews—I don’t think any of you people understand.” The sweep of his arm took in the school and the sleeping town. “Your parents are great, Julien—offering shelter and all—they really are. But they don’t know. Yet.”

But they do. They know. “Know what? What’ll they—do?”

“I’m not waiting around to find out.” His face was white and deadly serious. “Trust me on this, Julien. They are coming here and when they do, it’s better for you if I’m long gone.” I believe it is very dangerous to be a Jew in Germany. And soon—

Julien stood silent. The night wind touched his face; the hills were shadows on the horizon where they blotted out the stars. Suddenly he felt how large the world was, how huge the night, how small they stood on the road in the light of the waning moon. Ahead, the road bent into the pine woods, and in his mind, Julien saw Benjamin walking away, a small form carrying a suitcase into the darkness under the trees. His fingers bit into Benjamin’s arm.

“I don’t care,” he said savagely. “Where would you go?”

Benjamin said nothing; the moonlight quivered in his eyes as they filled with tears. He turned his head away. “I don’t know.” His voice shook.

Julien caught him by the shoulders, gripped him hard. “Well I do,” he said fiercely. “You’re coming home.”


How Huge the Night by Heather & Lydia Munn is a compelling story of the German occupation of France during World War II through the eyes of two teenagers. Julien is angry when his family moves from Paris into the countryside of Tanieux to escape from Hitler's growing power. He resents the loss of his friends and what is familiar for hard farm work and a new school where the boys are led by arrogant Henri. He is even more upset when his parents take in a Jewish boy named Benjamin who will also attend the school and never seems to look up from his books, except to insult Julien or give an answer in class to show up the rest of the boys. Meanwhile in Austria, Nina's father's dying wish is for her to take her younger brother Gustav, pretend to be a boy, and get out of the country before they are captured and sent to a camp for being Jewish. The plan seems doomed from the start when the rabbi who was to help the siblings to safety has been arrested, and the man they turn to for aid instead attempts to rape Nina, sending them on a wild race for their lives into the night. The story alternates between Julien's growing maturity as he struggles to understand how to fight someone with weapons of love as his pastor suggests and Nina's battle to keep her brother alive that soon becomes a giving up on life for herself. The stories come together when the siblings arrive in Tanieux and Julien helps them find safe refuge but even that is questioned when Henri threatens to turn them over to his father who will send them to a refugee camp, where Nina will most certainly die. The daughter/mother author team, Heather and Lydia Munn have really brought these based on real events to life, by sharing them through the eyes of Julien and Nina. Julien seems like a very average teenage boy, obsessed with soccer and fitting in with the other boys, angry at his parents uprooting him from all he knows, torn at his grandfather's stories of their Huguenot heritage. He matures as the story unfolds, learning to think about someone other than himself, deeply regretting words spoken in the heat of the moment, and finally coming to understand that you can't win someone's heart by fighting them. Nina's story is haunting and chilling as she experiences so much evil, more than any young girl should see, so much that she decides to give up on life. This is a quiet, yet powerful story of personal strength, faith, and sacrifice.