Alone with a Jihadist

September 22nd, 2009

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:
Aaron D. Taylor

and the book:

Alone with a Jihadist

Foghorn Publishers (October 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Aaron D. Taylor was raised in a Midwestern charismatic church with the belief that Christians had a duty to take up arms in defense of their government and the ideals of freedom. He supported our actions in Iraq and asserted that only one political party was the appropriate home for true believers of God. After a meeting in London with Khalid, a militant jihadist, Taylor came away with a deep questioning of the ideals that, up to that moment, formed a cornerstone for his theology. In Alone with a Jihadist, Aaron Taylor shares his personal revelation that Christians are not to be supporters of military or other violent solutions to the world’s problems.

Visit the author’s website and blog.

Product Details:

List Price: $18.99
Paperback
Publisher: Foghorn Publishers (October 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1934466123
ISBN-13: 978-1934466124

ISLAND BREEZES

 I’m still trying to digest this book.  It is certainly thought provoking.  It will make you question some of your world views.  I doubt if one’s mindset can remain the same after reading this.  9/11 changed the way many Christians thought and believed.  This author will turn much of that upside down for you.  I think every person should read this book and use the insights contained therein to search his heart and mind. 

This book takes you back to the saying, “What would Jesus do?”  Read it and think about it.

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

What have I gotten myself into this time? Here I was sitting across the table from Stephen Marshall, the director of a feature length documentary film called Holy War, a film examining the role of religion in the post 9/11 clash between the West and Islam. Stephen and I were sitting in an underground café in London discussing what I was about to do the next day. In less than 24 hours, I was about to be stuck in an abandoned warehouse for several hours with a radical jihadist who wanted to destroy me, my country, my religion, and every- thing else I held dear.

As a 28 year-old evangelist born and raised in Jefferson County Missouri, a rural county outside the suburbs of St. Louis, the idea of representing Western Civilization in an epic debate seemed a bit far-fetched. I imagined what the cultural elite in Europe would think if they knew a Christian missionary from the Bible Belt was their de facto representative for defending their civilization over and against Islamic civilization. The thought suddenly struck me as humorous. How in the world did I get here?

It all started when I was a young child attending a missionary conference at my charismatic mega-church. As long as I can remember, I’ve always had a knack for adventure and a zeal for the things of God. When I was between the ages of 8 and 10, my church invited missionaries from all over the world to display exhibits and share about their ministries at an event they called the World Harvest Conference. Seeing the missionaries dressed in exotic costumes and hearing their stories made me want to “abandon it all for the sake of the call” just as they had done. For a young child who rarely traveled, the prospect of spending my life in a far away place and learning another language captured my imagination and gave me a vision for the future. By the time my uncle Charlie took his first trip to Africa, I was hooked. I knew I wanted to be a missionary too.

My first missionary trip was in 1993 to the country of Poland. A missionary from our church named Jack Harris was scheduled to conduct an evangelistic crusade in the town of Wroclaw, so he decided to take a group of select young people from our church’s youth group to help advertise the meetings during the day, and most importantly, get a taste of the mission field. For days our team did mimes on the streets and invited people to come to an evangelistic crusade at night. One afternoon as we were all resting in our hotel rooms, I read a book by evangelist Mike Francen called A Quest for Souls. Francen was personally trained under the legendary T.L. Osborn and saw many of the same miracles that T.L. and his wife Daisy had seen throughout their 50-years of ministry together. For a 15 year old raised in the charismatic movement, looking at pictures of 100,000 people lifting their hands to receive Jesus as Savior was like an adolescent baseball player looking at a picture of Babe Ruth knocking the ball out of Yankee Stadium. For me, the choice was very simple. How could I stay in America and preach the gospel to those who have already heard when there are millions of people around the world who have never had a chance to hear the gospel once? From that day forward, I decided to dedicate my life to becoming a world evangelist.

As soon as I graduated from high school, I was out the door and ready to change the world. During my formative years, my parents made tremendous financial sacrifices to put my brothers and me through Christian school, so we never really traveled much. But now that I had the freedom to determine my future, I found myself traveling to places far and wide. Places I never in my wildest imagination dreamed I would ever go. Places such as India, China, Tibet, Vietnam, Cambodia, Uganda, Grenada, and Laos. Some of these countries were places where those who decide to follow Jesus often pay a terrible price of suffering and persecution and, yet, the joy on their faces reinforced to me that following Jesus is worth the cost, no matter what the cost may be.

In October of 2000, I met my beautiful wife Rhiannon in Dallas, Texas while we were attending the School of Missions at Christ for the Nations Institute. My wife and I were married on October 6th, 2001, approximately three weeks after 9/11. Shortly after we were married, we decided that we wanted to put our missionary training to use by taking the gospel to those of the Muslim faith. We wanted to minister in a country that has a Muslim majority, but also enjoys religious freedom; so after a year and a half of quiet and peaceful suburban living, we packed our bags and moved to the country of Senegal, located in West Africa.

While in Senegal we labored, we cried, we prayed, and we met a lot of fascinating people along the way. Most of our family and friends thought that we were crazy evangelizing Muslims, especially since this was shortly after 9/11, but the fact is our interaction with Muslims was entirely peaceful. Not once did we come across someone who hated us and wanted us out of the country. Although God allowed us a measure of success in Senegal, sometimes life throws curve balls. After 16 short months of missionary living, my wife and I moved back to the U.S. to help my mother-in-law who eventually died of cancer in March of 2005.

It wasn’t long before I was off traveling the world again. This time I found myself traveling to Pakistan—a place largely overrun by radical jihadists sympathetic to the likes of people like Osama bin Laden. Neither my wife nor I wanted to be a prime target for kidnapping or execution, so we decided to concentrate our ministry primarily on the Christian minority, encouraging them in their faith and equipping them with Bibles and other tools for witness and evangelism.

It was shortly after my first trip to Pakistan that I met Stephen Marshall. One day as I was checking my e-mail, I noticed an ad I had previously overlooked in a mass e-mail for missionary mobilizers. The headline read, “Hollywood Production Company looking for a young missionary who travels the world to participate in a feature-length documentary.” A few days before I saw the e-mail, I already felt I had a direction from the Lord to begin engaging secular media with the gospel, so when Stephen responded to my reply a few days later, I was pleasantly surprised—and overwhelmed. Representing a Christian perspective to the secular media is a tall order, especially when you don’t have any control over the editing process. Almost immediately after I got off the phone with Stephen I wondered if I’d bitten off more than I can chew.

Unfortunately for me, there was little time for second-guessing. Within a few short weeks, Stephen came to my home to interview me and ask me just about every question under the sun regarding my faith, family, and political views. The last thing I wanted to do was to isolate myself unnecessarily from those outside the conservative evangelical fold, so I tried to be as diplomatic as possible when Stephen asked me questions about 9/11, the Iraq War, free-market capitalism, George Bush, and the Republican Party. Little did I know that the microscopic examination of my faith, on that weekend was only the tip of the iceberg. There was still much, much more to come.

Within a few short months, Stephen traveled with me to Pakistan to observe my preaching and to get a first-hand look at the oppression of Christians in a nation largely populated with radical Muslims. It was during the trip to Pakistan that Stephen began speaking to me about a very outspoken jihadist who lived in London named Khalid. I had seen Khalid on CNN and knew that he was an Irish convert to Islam who had grown up in a Catholic family. After the trip to Pakistan, I honestly thought my role in the film was over. In my mind, I had behaved like a good Christian and had a rare opportunity to expose the plight of the Pakistani Christians to the world.

Little did I know that a few months later, after delivering a sermon at a Pentecostal church in Brazil, a man would walk up to me and tell me that I was supposed to go to London before the end of the year and that, if I would go, then God would give me a great victory. Taking this as a word from God, I thought that maybe I could go and talk to Khalid, find out how he thinks and see if I could persuade him to accept the way and teachings of Christ. It wasn’t long before the producers caught wind of the story and decided to set up a meeting between the two of us for the purpose of capturing the conversation on film.

I don’t think words can describe the pressure I felt during the two days of what turned out to be an intense debate with Khalid. Not only did I have to make my case for Christ to Khalid, I also knew that I had to be a faithful representative of Christ to the average non-Christian watching the film, many of whom are already convinced in their minds that those who hold to a fundamental belief in Scripture are destined to drag the world into a premature Apocalypse. To top it off, I knew there were American soldiers in Iraq in harm’s way and the last thing I wanted to do was to dishonor their service. The fact that the weather was unusually cold and gloomy, and that we were meeting in an old abandoned warehouse, made the atmosphere tense from the start. When Khalid walked into the room with his fiery eyes, intense gaze, and a grey t-shirt with the words “Soldier of Allah” written on the front, I knew the next few hours were not going to be a picnic.

The meeting didn’t quite go as I expected.

It took all about two minutes for me to realize there wasn’t going to be the Dr. Phil moment I had imagined with me helping Khalid to see that deep down inside there’s an inner child waiting to be loved. Within no time, Khalid began venting all of his anger, frustration, and rage against my religion, my country, Western Civilization—and me. In the beginning, I did my utmost to keep the conversation on a theological level. Having lived in a Muslim country and studied the basic tenets of Islam, I knew how to engage Muslims in friendly conversation regarding the merits of Christian belief. Most Muslims I had met up until this point were surprisingly generous about their view of the Bible and the fate of Christians on judgment day. Khalid, on the other hand, made no apology for his belief that every single Christian who has ever lived is heading straight for hell. The way Khalid raged about Iraq, Afghanistan, George Bush, and Tony Blair, I was sure that, in Khalid’s mind, the hottest flames in hell are reserved for those who put them in office.

The most frustrating part for me was the more I tried to shift the conversation to theological matters, the more determined Khalid was to condemn the evils of Western Civilization and, in particular, U.S. foreign policy. After sitting and listening for what seemed like hours, besides the occasional interjection here and there, I finally decided to engage Khalid on one of the primary moral objections to political Islam, and that’s the issue of religious freedom. For years I’ve felt that there’s a double standard in the liberal media when it comes to the issue of religious freedom in the Islamic world. I always get annoyed when I read news- magazines or hear cable news commentators herald a country like Malaysia as an Islamic paradise for democracy when I know full well that ethnic Malays who decide to switch their religion from Islam to Christianity (or any other religion for that matter) have historically faced imprisonment, torture, and the threat of execution.

Ready for a good debate, I finally stopped Khalid in mid-sentence and blurted out, “Freedom of religion in Islam is a façade. There is no such thing as freedom of religion in Islam.”

Expecting to hear a rebuttal, I was genuinely taken aback when Khalid so nonchalantly replied, “No there’s not. We don’t believe in freedom and democracy. We believe democracy is just a manifestation of man-made law.”

Freedom and democracy equals man-made law? As an American culturally conditioned to think of the words “freedom” and “democracy” as inalienable rights endowed by our Creator, the idea that another human being could consciously reject these values was intriguing to me. The association of democracy with man-made law also had a ring of logic to it. After all, we all know that the U.S. Congress and the British Parliament don’t wait for a heavenly finger to write on tablets of stone before passing legislation. Still trying to keep the conversation on a theological level and with little time to think, I responded, “You see that’s the difference, because the Bible says in the New Testament, “The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Corinthians 3:6).

Wasting no time, Khalid replied “Yes, but what does that mean? Nobody knows what that means. Not very clear.”

Not very clear? What’s not clear about living in freedom from legalistic rules and regulations? I thought perhaps I needed to state it another way.

“If society is going to change, then hearts have to change,” I said.

Khalid wasn’t buying it.

“You still haven’t described how you would implement the Bible as a way of life or in government. I’ll be honest with you. I’m gonna pin you down. I don’t think you can. I don’t think you can, because you can’t. With the Bible, how would you address the pedophilia, the prostitution, and the homosexuality from a governmental point of view? How would you address that? You’re in charge tomorrow all right? You are the president of the United States, how would you address these problems?”

How would I implement the Bible from a governmental point of view? Now that was a good question. In my mind, I could hear the calm reassuring voice of my senior pastor saying something like, “Now, Aaron. Remember that Christianity isn’t about trying to regulate society by setting up earthly governments. It’s about forgiveness of sins and a right relationship with God.”

“That’s right pastor,” I thought to myself “but that doesn’t really answer his question. If I’m going to make the claim that my faith is the right one, certainly I need to show that if everyone, or at least the vast majority of people, embraced my faith, then society would be better off. After all, there are moral implications to living out the gospel, and these implications aren’t limited to the private sphere.”

In my heart I knew that Khalid’s question was far from insignificant. Even though I knew the standard answer that the purpose for Jesus coming to earth was to die on the cross for our sins. Even though I knew that the gospel is about God’s love for sinners, not about sinners striving to achieve moral perfection. Even though I knew that the theme of the Bible is grace and redemption, not condemnation and legalism, there was something in Khalid’s question that caused my heart to sink. I knew that Khalid’s challenge wasn’t something I could dismiss lightly.

“First of all, as Christians, we want godly government.” I responded. Perhaps it was a lame answer, but it was all I could think of at the moment.

Unfortunately, Khalid didn’t have time for introspection. He wanted an answer right then and there.

“What is godly government? I don’t understand. What is godly government? How about a punishment system? Let’s pin you down. How about a punishment system? For example, what kind of punishment would you have for homosexuality?”

“That’s a good question because Jesus said, ‘He who is without sin let him cast the first stone.’ Jesus was going more for the heart on that one. Jesus showed that you can have law, but then what’s law without mercy?” I replied.

Khalid didn’t have time for moral philosophy. He wanted an answer.

“So you really don’t know what to do about it do you? That’s okay. I don’t expect you to know because the reason why you don’t know is because the answer is not in there. I wouldn’t expect you to know. Let me tell you what we do with homosexuals, okay? They are to be taken to the top of a mountain and thrown off and killed. It’s capital punishment. For the one who is an adulterer, if they are unmarried, a hundred lashes. If they’re married, stoned to death. This is Islamic Sharia. It’s comprehensive. I don’t expect you to know. I’m not trying to expose you. I’m trying to be honest with you because you are holding a completely corrupted message that doesn’t tell you what to do in these situations. So you shouldn’t know.”

At this point I was thinking Keep going Khalid. You are really hanging yourself here. As an evangelical Christian frustrated at how the media so often lumps my people into the same category as radical Islamists by throwing around the word fundamentalist, I wanted the potential audience to see what a real fundamentalist looks like, so I calmly replied,

“You say that homosexuals should be stoned and killed.”

“I didn’t say that. God says it.” Khalid replied in a matter of fact manner.

“I think that’s nuts because Jesus said, “He who is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone.”

Khalid took the bait.

“That’s why you are going to hellfire and I’m going to Paradise if I die as a Muslim and you die as a disbeliever. In Islam, you have to follow the message of Mohammed. I don’t want you to go to hell.”

I found it amusing that Khalid didn’t want me to go to hell. That was the reason why I was there, because I didn’t want him to go to hell. The problem was that I was cold, jet-lagged, and mild-tempered while Khalid was hot, awake, and ready for a fight. But the last thing I wanted to do was fight. I didn’t want the world to see two religious extremists at each other’s throats and I certainly didn’t want this to turn into a stereotypical match of “You’re going to hell” “No, You’re going to hell.” So I decided to put one of the principles of Stephen Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective People into practice. Seek first to understand, then to be under- stood. I decided to listen to what Khalid had to say—and Khalid wasted no time in saying it.

“I believe the Islamic arguments are stronger than the arguments for Christianity. Only because I’ve studied them both. And when I read the Koran, believe me Aaron, I swear to God, from my heart to your heart. I just read it and, I was a little bit angry at first. At first, I said, how come this was kept away from me? Who kept this away from me for all of my life and let me lead a miserable existence for 34 years without knowing the truth? Let me think that alcohol is okay, let me do whatever I want because of vicarious atonement. One man gets slaughtered on a cross by the Jews and, all of the sudden; everybody can do whatever they want. Pedophiles, Homosexuals, do whatever you want. No individual responsibility. No consequences for your actions. That’s what your belief hinges on.”

One man gets slaughtered on the cross by the Jews and, all of the sudden; everybody can do whatever they want? No individual responsibility? No consequences for your actions? That’s what my belief hinges on? I knew that the picture Khalid was painting was a gross distortion of the Christian faith, but at this point, it really didn’t matter. Khalid had a preconceived notion in his mind about what I believed and there was little I could do to change his perception. Finally I said:

“You talk a lot about the ideal society, you say that Mohammed is the final prophet, Islam is the true religion because it gives a comprehensive guide to life that’s politically and economically sufficient. I would dispute you in saying the Bible doesn’t give a comprehensive guide to life. I would dispute you in saying that, because the Bible does have a lot to say about government. The Bibles does have a lot to say about, not only outward righteousness, but inward righteousness. So, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean that I as a Christian can’t look in my Bible and see everything that I need to know to live a righteous life.”

Khalid’s reply was very revealing.

“But, Aaron. I don’t need to look at the book. I can look outside the door at your own society. I can see the prostitution. I can see the adultery. I can see the cheating. I can see the moneymakers, the interest, and the society. Every evil, the pedophilia, the homosexuals allowed to run rife. Nothing is addressed. Evil is allowed to run rampant, okay? And you just keep propagating peace and love and all that sort of thing and it’s not really good enough. And, as I say, I don’t have to look at the book. I just have to look outside the door. I can see a manifestation of everything in there. Everything bad in your society.”

The one thing I appreciated about Khalid was that he made it easy for me to summarize his moral arguments. Christianity is evil because Western Civilization is evil. The two are inextricably linked. Now that Khalid was on a role, he decided to shift the conversation to politics. That’s when things started to get interesting.

“In the last election, you come from America right? Who did you

vote for? Did you vote for anybody?”

A bit caught off guard, I answered, “Well, yes I did, but let me ask you a question.”

Khalid cut me off mid sentence.

“It’s a simple question. You did vote for somebody? And what do the people that you vote for do? Explain what they do. Look I’m gonna tell you right? I’m gonna tell you what the people you vote for do. They make law and order. They don’t make ice cream. In the House of Representatives and the House of Commons here. They make law and order. They decide what’s forbidden and they decide what’s allowed. This is called man-made law. Now, do you think God wants us to live by His law or man made law? He wants us to live by His comprehensive law and order. He always did. Why do you think Jesus was persecuted? Because He spoke out against the George Bushes and the Tony Blairs of His day. He was called a fundamentalist, terrorist, and an extremist, new laws of terrorism brought in. So He’s arrested, tortured. Is this starting to sound familiar? It should to you, because it’s what’s happening to Muslims today. Whenever a messenger was sent and he changed the whole of society, he was always terrorized, persecuted, and imprisoned. This is a sign of the people that are speaking the truth. And we believe that man-made law is a big disease. So you’re saying that you believe in the law of God and you want to be obedient, but yet you’re voting for people like George Bush who are mere men.”

“Jesus was an Islamic Fundamentalist?” I thought to myself, “Now that’s one for the loony bin.” The Koran was written approximately 600 years after the events surrounding the life and ministry of Jesus, which is why no serious historian accepts that Jesus was a Muslim, unless they accept it by blind faith. According to the Koran, Jesus wasn’t a friend to sinners, nor did He actually die on a wooden cross. In the Koran, Jesus was a Muslim who prayed five times a day facing Mecca, fasted during the month of Ramadan, and made it his aim to implement the Divine Sharia on the whole of society. The problem with this idea is that both the Bible and history agree that Jesus was a threat to the religious establishment of His day. Khalid obviously had it backwards, but the fact that he had it backwards underscored something very revealing about the historical Jesus in my mind. The people that Jesus condemned the most were the Pharisees—the ones who ruled over others in the name of God with the power of the State behind them. In a strange way, Khalid’s crazy idea served to reinforce the point that he was making. The Jesus of the gospels left us with neither a legal system nor a socio-economic system for creating an ideal society.

Now that Khalid knew he had my attention, he decided to walk me through the finer points of his worldview as a maestro would with an inquisitive pupil.

“Islam is not religion; you probably think Islam is a religion. It’s not. It’s a pure divine belief. Comprehensive. We had a divine social system, economic system, political system, private system, and a system of what to do when somebody invades your land, what to do when somebody invades your home. We’re onto the

concept which a lot of people are talking about today, the issue of fighting or jihad in Islam. Jihad in Islam is one of the things that protect the Muslims around the world.”

“So jihad is primarily defensive?” I thought to myself, “Does that include 9/11?”

Khalid and I had an extensive debate on that one—and a host of other topics. For hours upon hours for two days straight Khalid and I went back and forth on just about every topic imaginable: the prophethood of Muhammad, the crucifixion, the divinity of Jesus, the inspiration of Scripture, Osama bin Laden, Iraq, Afghanistan, the War on Terror, democracy, freedom of religion, the role of women, the persecution of Christians in Muslim lands, the finer points of Sharia law.

In many ways, I felt that I took a beating in my debate with Khalid, though I still walked out of there with my head held high. Rather than feeding the fire-breathing stereotype of a my-way-or-the-highway American evangelist, I decided in the end to make a symbolic attempt at reconciliation. Though Khalid left me with little hope of reconciliation between the West and Islam, I found out later that my presence did have a disarming effect on Khalid—somewhat. Khalid conceded that I wasn’t what he expected and, t the very least, he confided to me that I helped him see that merican Christians are also concerned about the moral issues he’s concerned with and that not every American Christian agrees with U.S. foreign policy.

Then I returned home.

For weeks I walked around in a daze. I couldn’t get the thought but of my mind that if Khalid and his repeated threats to fight with all means necessary until U.S. troops are removed from Muslim ands, if his ideas represent only 10% of the 1.3 billion Muslims of he world, then we are looking at a problem of global significance. Hearing the rage and frustration of Khalid helped me to see that he anger and frustration of millions of Muslims directed at America and Western Civilization didn’t emerge from a vacuum. And how many jihadists does it take to execute a terrorist attack capable of destabilizing the world order? Only a handful. All I could think of was America is not ready for this.

But then another thought struck me.

As I poured myself into watching documentaries, reading scholarly journals online, and scrutinizing the TV news, I realized that something was changing on the inside of me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. After a couple of months I realized that something had happened during my debate with Khalid that I ever thought would happen. Khalid had presented an authentic challenge to my faith and I knew that if there was to be any victory at all, like the victory that was prophesied, then I would have to get to the bottom of the issue. Khalid’s charge was simple. Jesus didn’t leave the world with a comprehensive social system, economic system, political system, or any other kind of system to regulate society. At least Muhammad attempted to solve the world’s problems.

Tell me, preacher man. How would you implement the Bible from a governmental point of view?

I poured over the Scriptures for months with this question in mind. Did Jesus really leave us with nothing in terms of how to implement the Scriptures from a governmental point of view? Certainly he left us with something. Or did He? If He did, then we Christians in the West had better find out what it is and get off our lazy derrieres and do something. If He didn’t, then why didn’t He? If it turns out that He did not, then what are the implications for the War on Terror and the current clash between the West and Islam? After months of pouring over this simple question, I realized that my entire world had been turned upside down.

A Cousin’s Prayer

September 21st, 2009

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:
Wanda E. Brunstetter

and the book:

A Cousin’s Prayer

Barbour Books; 1 edition (September 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Wanda E. Brunstetter is nationally recognized as an expert on the Amish community, and her book sales have topped the three million mark. Her books White Christmas Pie, A Sister’s Hope, and Allison’s Journey topped Publishers Weekly Paperback Religion Bestsellers lists in 2008. Her books have also received other honors, including the 2006 Reader’s Choice Award and the CBD Book of the Week. Brunstetter enjoys an uncommon kinship with the Amish and loves to visit their communities throughout the country.

Visit the author’s website.

Product Details:

List Price: $10.97
Paperback: 304 pages
Publisher: Barbour Books; 1 edition (September 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602600619
ISBN-13: 978-1602600614

ISLAND BREEZES

I really like these Indiana Cousins books.  At first I thought I had already read this book, but it was just a recap of the action in A Cousin’s Promise.  There’s a whole range of emotions in this book – everything from grief, depression, love and rejection.  Not only does this book give us a lot of heart warming romance, it also gives a deeper look into depression and how it affects the family as well as the depressed person. 

These characters are ones that I look forward to reading about in the future.  I’ve really become attached to them and continue to be drawn to the Amish lifestyle.  Thank you, Wanda.

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue

Katie Miller’s stomach churned as she read the letter she’d just received from her cousin Loraine:

Dear Katie,

Wayne and I will be getting married the last Thursday of April. I’d like you to be one of my attendants.

Katie’s heart pounded. There was no way she could go to her cousin’s wedding, much less be one of her attendants.

“Who’s the letter from?” Katie’s grandmother asked, taking a seat on the porch swing beside Katie.

“Loraine. She’s getting married in April, and she wants me to be one of her attendants.” Katie almost choked on the words.

“That’s wunderbaar. I’m sure you’re looking forward to going.”

Katie shook her head. “I don’t want to go.”

“Think how disappointed Loraine would be if you weren’t at her wedding.”

Katie’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I can’t go back to Indiana, Grammy.”

“Loraine and Wayne have been through so much. Don’t you want to be there to share in their joy?”

Katie shivered despite the warm Florida breeze. If Timothy hadn’t been killed on their way to Hershey Park last fall, she’d be planning her own wedding right now.

“Katie, did you hear what I said?”

Katie nodded, hoping she wouldn’t give in to the tears pushing against her eyelids. “If I hadn’t freaked out about a bee in the van, Timothy, Paul, and Raymond would still be alive.” Katie drew in a shaky breath. “Jolene wouldn’t have lost her hearing, either, and Wayne would still have both of his legs.”

“You’re not to blame, Katie. It was an accident. It might have happened even if you hadn’t been afraid of the bee.” Grammy touched Katie’s arm. “You need to accept it and go on with your life.”

“I–I don’t know if I can.”

“Timothy wouldn’t want you to continue grieving for him. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for the accident.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Then you ought to listen.” Grammy took hold of Katie’s hand. “Let’s go inside so you can write Loraine and let her know you’ll be at the wedding.”

“I–I’m afraid to go. The thought of traveling alone scares me. I don’t think I can deal with all the painful memories that are there.”

“Will you go to Loraine’s wedding if I go with you?”

“What about Grandpa? Would he go, too?”

Grammy shook her head. “He has things to do here.”

Katie couldn’t imagine what things Grandpa would have to do. He was retired and spent a good deal of his time at the beach.

“What about it, Katie?” Grammy asked. “Will you go to the wedding if I go along?”

Katie sat for several seconds, thinking things through. Finally, she gave a slow nod. It would be easier going back to Indiana with Grammy along, and as soon as the wedding was over, they’d come back here.

Chapter 1

“It sure is good to have you home,” Katie’s father said as they headed down the road in his buggy toward Uncle Amos and Aunt Priscilla’s house. He glanced over at Katie and smiled. “Your mamm said Loraine was real pleased when she got your letter saying you’d be one of her attendants.”

Katie clutched the folds in her dress as she stared out the window. She didn’t know why she felt so edgy. She hadn’t felt like this when she was in Florida. She’d been depressed after Timothy died, but not quivery inside the way she’d been since she’d climbed into Dad’s buggy. She was grateful they didn’t have far to go.

Dad motioned to what was left of the barn they were passing. “Take a look at the devastation from the tornado that hit this past winter. That terrible storm affected nearly everyone around these parts in some way or another.”

“No one was killed, though, right?”

“No, but some were injured, and the damage was great. Many, like Wayne’s folks, lost their homes, barns, and shops. It’s a good thing the house Wayne started building before he lost his leg didn’t sustain any damage from the tornado,” Dad said. “Several of the men in our community finished it for him, and Wayne’s folks have been livin’ in it ever since.”

“Will they continue living there after Loraine and Wayne get married?” Katie asked.

Dad nodded. “At least until their own house is done.”

Katie knew from some of the things Loraine had said in her letters that she and Ada hadn’t always gotten along so well. She wondered how things would be having them both living under the same roof.

“Look at the Chupps’ place.” Dad pointed to the left. “They lost their barn, his buggy shop, and the house. Only those who’ve actually seen the destruction of a tornado like we had here can even imagine such a sight.”

Katie gripped the edge of the seat. “I don’t understand why God allows such horrible things to happen.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s not our place to question God. His ways are not our ways.”

Katie clamped her teeth together in an effort to keep from saying what was on her mind. Dad wouldn’t understand if she told him how angry she was with God for taking Timothy. He’d probably give her a lecture and say it was Timothy’s time to die, like he’d said to her on the day of Timothy’s funeral.

“Do you know how long you’ll be helping at Loraine’s?” Dad asked.

“Probably most of the day, since I’m sure there’s a lot to be done before the wedding. You can come by sometime before supper and pick me up, or I can ask someone to give me a ride home.”

“I don’t mind coming back for you. I’ll be here around four, okay?”

“That’s fine, but if we get done sooner, I’ll just ask for a ride home.”

“Sounds good.” Dad guided the horse up Uncle Amos’s driveway and directed him toward the barn. When they stopped at the hitching rail, Dad turned to Katie and said, “Have a good day, and don’t work too hard. You’re lookin’ kind of peaked today.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad.” Katie climbed out of the buggy and headed to the house. She wasn’t fine at all. It seemed strange being back here again. She’d only been gone from home a little over six months, but it seemed a lot longer.

She noticed several people in the yard, pulling weeds and planting flowers, but didn’t see any sign of Loraine or her folks. She figured they must be in the house.

When she stepped onto the back porch, she drew in a shaky breath. She wished Grammy or Mom would have come with her today, instead of going shopping in Shipshewana. Katie figured since Mom and Grammy hadn’t seen each other for several months, they probably wanted to spend some time alone.

Just as Katie lifted her hand to knock on the back door, it swung open. Loraine stepped onto the porch and gave Katie a hug. “It’s so good to have you home! Danki for coming. It means a lot for me to have you and Ella as my attendants.”

“Danki for asking me.” Katie forced a smile. In some ways, it was good to be here, but she felt as out of place as a chicken in a duck pond.

“I just wish Jolene could be here, too.”

“She’s not coming?”

“Huh-uh. Her aunt’s been dealing with carpal tunnel on both of her wrists, and she recently had surgery to correct the problem. Jolene thought it’d be best if she stayed in Pennsylvania to help out.”

“That makes sense. But do you think Jolene will ever come back to Indiana?” Katie asked.

“I hope so.” Loraine opened the door and motioned Katie inside. “Ella and her sister Charlene are in the kitchen. We decided to have a snack before we head out to the barn to help decorate the tables for the wedding meal.”

When Katie entered the kitchen behind Loraine, she saw Ella and Charlene sitting at the table.

Ella jumped up, raced over Katie, and gave her a hug that nearly took Katie’s breath away. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve all missed you so much!”

Katie smiled. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Would you like a glass of iced tea?” Loraine asked.

Katie nodded and took a seat at the table.

“How about a piece of my sister’s appeditlich friendship bread?” Charlene motioned to the plate of bread on the table.

“I’m sure the bread’s delicious, but I’m not really hungry right now.”

“As skinny as you are, you oughta eat the whole loaf.” Charlene’s eyebrows lifted high. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

Katie shook her head.

Ella shot her sister a look of disapproval, but Charlene didn’t seem to notice. She was busy cutting herself another hunk of bread.

“Didn’t you have a birthday last month?” Charlene asked, her mouth full.

Katie nodded. “I turned twenty.”

Charlene grabbed her glass and took a drink. “You’d sure never know it. Why, you don’t look like you’re more than sixteen.” She pointed to herself. “I look older than you.”

Katie groaned inwardly. She didn’t need the reminder that she looked young for her age. She couldn’t help it if she was short, petite, and had the face of a teenager. At least I act more mature than my sixteen-year-old cousin, she thought.

“I got a letter from Jolene last week,” Ella said. “She won’t be coming to Loraine’s wedding because—”

“She already knows,” Loraine interrupted. “I told her about Jolene’s aunt when we were out on the porch.”

“I wonder if Jolene’s using her aunt’s surgery as an excuse not to come home. She might be afraid that she won’t fit in with the rest of us now that she can’t hear,” Charlene put in.

Ella shot her sister another look. “I’m sure that’s not the reason. Jolene would never make up an excuse not to come to the wedding.”

Katie’s shoulders tensed as she shifted her gaze to the window. What would her cousins think if they knew she hadn’t wanted to come home for the wedding? Did they have any idea how hard it had been for her to make the trip? Even with Grammy along, Katie had felt anxious on the bus ride. Every horn honk and sudden stop had sent shivers up her spine. She knew she couldn’t have made the trip home alone. Even though she wasn’t looking forward to riding the bus again, she looked forward to going back to Florida where there were no painful reminders of the past.

Loraine stood. “Would anyone like to see my wedding dress?”

Charlene’s hand shot up. “I would!”

“Me, too,” Ella said.

Katie nodded as well.

“I’ll be right back.” Loraine scurried out of the room.

Charlene nudged Katie’s arm. “What’s it like in Pinecraft? That’s where your grossmudder lives, isn’t it?”

Katie nodded as she fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “As you know, Pinecraft is the section of Sarasota where many Plain People have homes or come to rent. It’s a nice community.”

“Is it true that there are no horses and buggies?” Charlene asked.

Katie nodded. “Unless they’re going out of the area and need to hire a driver, everyone either walks or rides a bike.”

“Do you go to the beach very often?” Ella questioned.

“Jah. Grandpa and I go there a lot. We enjoy looking for shells, and Grandpa likes to fish.”

Charlene sighed. “I wish I could visit Florida sometime. I’m sure I’d enjoy being on the beach.”

“Maybe you can visit me there sometime.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “You’re going back?”

“Of course. My home’s in Pinecraft now.”

The room got deathly quiet. Ella and Charlene stared at each other as though in disbelief.

Katie figured it was time for a change of subject. “Who did Wayne choose to be his attendants?” she asked.

“Jolene’s bruder, Andrew, and Freeman Bontrager,” Ella replied. “Wayne and Freeman have become good friends since Freeman and his sister, Fern, moved back to Indiana a few months ago.”

“Freeman opened a bicycle shop,” Charlene added. “Mom and Dad bought me a new bike for my birthday in February.”

“Oh, I see.” Katie stifled a yawn. She’d had trouble falling asleep last night.

“Freeman won’t be helping here today because he has lots of work at the shop.” Charlene sipped her iced tea. “You should see all the bikes he has. I’ll bet he’d do real well if he had a shop in Sarasota, since so many people ride bikes there.”

“Here it is,” Loraine said, sweeping into the room with a khaki green dress draped over her arm. “I’ll wear a full white apron over the front of the dress, of course.” She held it out to Katie. “What do you think?”

With trembling fingers and a wave of envy, Katie touched the smooth piece of fabric. “It–it’s very nice.”

“Are you okay?” Loraine asked with a look of concern. “Your hand’s shaking.”

Katie dropped both hands into her lap and clutched the folds in her dress. “I’m fine. Just a bit shaky because I didn’t have much breakfast.”

“Then you oughta have a piece of this.” Charlene pushed the plate of friendship bread toward Katie. “You’ll blow away in a strong wind if you don’t put some meat on your bones.”

Katie ground her teeth until her jaw began to ache. One of the first things Mom had said to her when she’d arrived home was that she needed to gain some weight. Of course, Dad had mentioned it, too.

“Charlene’s right.” Ella spoke up. “If you’re feeling shaky, then you should eat something.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Katie grabbed a piece of bread and took a bite. Then she washed it down with a sip of iced tea.

Bam! The screen door swung open, causing Katie to nearly jump out of her seat. Walking with a slow, stiff gait, Wayne entered the room. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw Katie. “Wie geht’s?”

“I’m fine.” The lie rolled off Katie’s tongue much too easily. She was getting used to telling people what she thought they wanted to hear.

Wayne moved across the room and stood beside Loraine’s chair. “We’re sure glad you could come for the wedding.”

Katie forced a smile and nodded.

“Would you like to see my new leg?” Before she could respond, Wayne pulled up his pant leg, exposing his prosthesis.

Katie bit back a gasp. “D-does it hurt?” She could hardly get the words out.

“It did at first, but I’ve pretty well adjusted to it now.” Wayne took a seat beside Loraine. “It could have been worse, and I’m grateful to be alive.”

Uneasiness tightened Katie’s chest, and she blew out a slow, shaky breath. Seeing him like this was a reminder of what she’d caused—and what she’d lost.

Wayne reached around Ella and grabbed a piece of bread. “Looks like you’ve been baking again, huh, Ella?”

She nodded. “It keeps me busy when I’m not helping my daed in his business.”

“Those wind chimes he makes are so nice,” Loraine said. “I might buy one soon, to hang on our porch.”

“You won’t have to do that,” Charlene said. “Dad and Mom are planning to give you one of his nicest sets of wind chimes for a wedding present.”

Ella poked her sister’s arm. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Charlene covered her mouth. “Oops.”

Loraine poured another glass of iced tea and handed it to Wayne. “How are things going outside?”

“Pretty good. By the end of the day, I think your folks’ yard will look like a park.” He grinned and lifted his glass to take a drink. “This sure hits the spot. It’s getting mighty warm out there. Much warmer than normal for April, I think.”

“That’s fine with me,” Loraine said. “A warm spring day is exactly what I wished we’d have on our wedding day. I hope the weather stays just like it is—at least until Thursday.”

Katie stared out the kitchen window, blinking back tears of envy and frustration. I’d give anything if it were me and Timothy getting married in two days. Oh, Lord, please give me the strength to get through Loraine’s wedding.

A New Song

September 20th, 2009

I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry.  He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.  He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.  Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord.

Happy are those who make the Lord their trust, who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods.  You have multiplied, O Lord my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you.  Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted.

Sacrifice and offering you do not desire, but you have given me an open ear.  Burnt offering and sin offering you have not required.  Then I said, “Here I am; in the scroll of the book it is written of me.  I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.”

I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; see, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O Lord.  I have not hidden your saving help within my heart.  I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation.

Psalm 40:1-10

Look to the East Review

September 16th, 2009

 Once again I was not able to get this review up with the first chapter.  I do apologize.  It sometimes takes me longer to read a book than I think it will since I began running over to the mainland five nights a week.

This was definitely a book I’m glad that I read.  I’ve not read many historical novels set in France.  In this novel a WWI battle intrudes on a feud between the Toussaints and the de Colvilles, bringing a forbidden romance into the life of Julitte Toussaint.  I’m not going to tell you a lot about the book as I don’t want to ruin it for you.

What I will tell you is that this is a good book, and you need to get your hands on a copy.  Get comfortable and I’ll meet you in the reading corner.

Unexplainable: Pursuing a Life Only God Can Make Possible

September 16th, 2009

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

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

Today’s Wild Card author is:
Don Cousins

and the book:

Unexplainable: Pursuing a Life Only God Can Make Possible

David C. Cook (2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Don Cousins leads a ministry designed to build and strengthen Christian leaders and organizations. He is a former associate pastor of Willow Creek Church and the best-selling author of Network. Don spends much of his time consulting churches and parachurch organizations, coaching Christian leaders, and speaking. He currently lives in Holland, Michigan, with his wife MaryAnn and their three children, Kyle, Kirk, and Karalyne.

Visit the author’s website.

Product Details:

List Price: $16.99
Format: Paperback
Number of Pages: 256
Vendor: David C. Cook (2009)
ISBN: 1434768082
ISBN-13: 9781434768087

ISLAND BREEZES

Philippians 4:11 I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  This book is taking me closer to Paul’s meaning when he wrote this.  Don Cousins is teaching us that contentment is unexplainable apart from God, and that with God we can be content in the midst of circumstances that are truly miserable and trying our spirit. 

Mr. Cousins doesn’t stop with unexplainable contentment.  He goes on to discuss unexplainable success, unexplainable significance and how to get from the explainable to the unexplainable in our life.  I think this is a book that I’m going to read over and over, finding something new each time.

Isn’t it nice to realize that we just don’t have to be able to explain everything in life?  Some things are just unexplainable apart for God.

 

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

UNEXPLAINABLE …
APART FROM GOD

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

ISAIAH 55:8-9

God is beyond us–able to think and act in ways that defy human logic and surpass human understanding. He’s limitless in power and He’s infinite in knowledge, wisdom, and understanding.

For the sake of relationship, He lowers Himself to our level in many ways. Yet He often chooses to express Himself in ways that are, well, unexplainable–apart from Him. And He does this to point us to Him.

A Story of the Unexplainable

Abraham was seventy-five years old when God told him he would be the father of “a great nation.” God instructed him to leave his relatives and his homeland and to venture out with his wife, Sarah, to a land that the Lord would show him, a land that would one day belong to his descendents. It was an incredible promise, an outrageous offer.

There was just one problem. Abraham and Sarah were childless. It’s impossible to give land to descendents you don’t have. It’s equally impossible to father a nation when you haven’t fathered a family. While Abraham and Sarah had certainly tried to bear children, it hadn’t happened. And now, at the ages of seventy-five and sixty-five respectively, their chances of doing so were virtually nil.

Nonetheless, Abraham and Sarah, in obedience to the word of the Lord, left home in quest of this Promised Land and the birthing of a nation. They must have believed God would perform a miracle, enabling them to bear a child.

It wasn’t long into their journey that they reached the territory God had for them. The Lord appeared to Abraham there and told him, “To your descendents I will give this land” (Gen. 12:7). Now all they needed were descendents to give this land to. But months passed, years passed–and still no child.

God reiterated His promise, telling Abraham, “One who will come forth from your own body, he shall be your heir” (15:4). In dramatic fashion God led Abraham outside at night. “Now look toward the heavens, and count the stars, if you are able to count them.… So shall your descendents be” (15:5).

However awesome this must have sounded to Abraham, Sarah remained barren.

Then one day, she had an idea. Abraham could bear a child by another woman–by Sarah’s Egyptian maid, Hagar. Sarah had come to the logical conclusion that the Lord had “prevented” her from having children (16:2); it was no longer humanly possible for her. But Abraham could father a child by another woman.

This made sense to Abraham, so he had sexual relations with Hagar. Sure enough, she gave birth to a son who was named Ishmael. Abraham was eighty-six when the boy was born (Gen. 16:16).

Laughable, But True

At this point, the Bible goes silent for thirteen years. When Abraham’s story resumes, he’s ninety-nine–some twenty-four years removed from the day God first issued the promise.

Once again He comes to Abraham and reiterates His promise more strongly than ever:

I will multiply you exceedingly.… And you will be the father of a multitude of nations.… For I have made you the father of a multitude of nations. I will make you exceedingly fruitful, and I will make nations of you.… I will establish My covenant between Me and you and your descendants after you throughout their generations.… I will give to you and to your descendants after you, the land of your sojournings…for an everlasting possession. (Gen. 17:2-8).

God also adds this about Sarah: “I will bless her, and indeed I will give you a son by her” (17:16).

How does Abraham respond? “Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed” (17:17). This was so ridiculous, so absurd, so inconceivable and incomprehensible, he couldn’t help but laugh in God’s face.

So Abraham offered God a suggestion–an alternative option that he and Sarah had hatched: “Oh that Ishmael might live before You!” (17:18). In other words, “What about the son I already have? Why not make him the first descendent? I’m not getting any younger, so let’s get on with things!”

God’s answer is direct and unmistakable: “No” (17:19). He tells Abraham, “Sarah your wife will bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac; and I will establish My covenant with him for an everlasting covenant for his descendants after him.” Moreover, God promises that Sarah will give birth to this son within a year’s time.

When this news reached Sarah’s ears a short time later, she too laughed in the face of God (18:12).

But as you know, God’s promise proved true. Abraham (at the age of one hundred) and Sarah (at ninety) did have a child, whom they named Isaac.

The Delay Explained

Why then did God have Sarah and Abraham wait so long–a quarter century–to see His promise fulfilled? Was He merely testing their willingness to obey? Was He wanting to stretch their faith?

I think the best answer to this question is found in God’s response following Sarah’s laughter: “Is anything too difficult for the LORD?” (18:14).

I believe God had them wait because He wanted to do that which could be explained only by His involvement–that which is unexplainable apart from God. In this way, the very life of Isaac and the fulfillment of the promise would point to God Himself. There could be no other explanation. Isaac was unexplainable–apart from God. Ishmael, on the other hand, was explainable: A man has sexual relations with a woman of child-bearing age, and she gets pregnant. But when a baby’s born to a century-old man and his wife of ninety after they’ve tried unsuccessfully for decades to have children–well, there’s only one explanation for that: God did it. Isaac’s very existence would always point to God. This is what God wanted, and it’s why I believe He had Abraham and Sarah wait so long.

This is the sort of thing God desires to do in and through the lives of all His children. He wants to do the inconceivable, the uncommon, the unexpected, the remarkable, the incomprehensible, so that He–God–is the only explanation for what occurs in our lives. In this way, our lives point to Him.

Do you realize that God created you to point to Him? Do you understand that your life is intended to make Him known? God wants the unfolding of your life to be unexplainable apart from Him. As Paul expresses it, “We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10). You’ve been created for good works that put God on display. Just as a work of art reflects the artist, we are to reflect God.

Jesus said it this way: “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

His Ways Point to Him

If who you are, and the unfolding of your life, are seen as something understandable, expected, common, and explainable in human terms, then your life merely points to you. Like Frank Sinatra, you can sing, “I did it my way.” But if the best and perhaps only explanation for your life is God, then you point to Him and your life plays to the lyric, “I did it His way.”

This is the purpose for which you were created. In fact, to be unexplainable apart from God is completely normal for the Christian. This is the way life ought to be. You, and the unfolding of your life, should be unexplainable apart from God.

Perhaps in moments of quiet reflection you’ve wondered, Is this all there is to life? You have a sense within that there must be more to life than you’re experiencing. Though you’re probably busier than you want to be, you can’t figure out why you’re bored. You think there must be more to life than this.

Well, there is!

God is issuing an invitation to each and every one of us to join Him in the realm of the unexplainable. God wants to take your life beyond you. This is the kind of life He created you for, the life He designed you to experience. He wants it to be unexplainable apart from Him, so that you point to Him.

If you accept His invitation, then you join not only Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac, but a host of others, like:

Joseph, who took an unexplainable-apart-from-God journey from a pit to a palace, then extended unexplainable-apart-from-God forgiveness to his brothers for the evil they did to him.

Moses, who arrived unexplainably-apart-from-God at a palace, only to be exiled to the wilderness, where he was unknowingly being prepared to return to that palace–so he could lead God’s people on an unexplainable-apart from-God journey through that wilderness.

David, who was such an unexplainable-apart-from-God choice to be Israel’s next king that he wasn’t even invited along with his brothers to the draft.

Esther, who unexpectedly and unexplainably-apart-from-God “attained royalty for such a time as this,” so that her people, God’s people, could be saved from annihilation.

Joseph and Mary, very common folk who were asked to do the most uncommon thing of all–give birth in an unexplainable-apart-from-God way to the very Son of God.

Peter, James, John, and nine other young men from meager means and education who were chosen unexplainably-apart-from-God by Jesus to lead a movement that changed the world.

A fellow named Saul, better known as Paul, who fought to wipe Christianity from the face of the earth, but unexplainably-apart-from-God ended up becoming Christianity’s greatest ambassador.

The Bible is full of story after story of the “unexplainable apart from God.” So true is this that skeptics have labeled the Bible as largely fairy tale and myth. They ask, “How can these things be?” God answers them as did Abraham: “Is anything too difficult for the LORD?”

For Superstars Only?

At this point you may be thinking, But the Bible tells the stories of the superstars of the faith, and I’m no superstar. While this is certainly a common perception, a closer look reveals that the vast majority of the Bible’s primary figures were very common and ordinary folk. They were shepherds, like Moses and David, or ranchers like Abraham, or fishermen like Peter, James, and John, or carpenters like Joseph in the New Testament. They were slaves like the Old Testament Joseph and Daniel, or tax collectors like Matthew and Zacchaeus. Some were even prostitutes like Rahab, and social outcasts like Elijah, Jeremiah, and John the Baptist.

These people lived extraordinary lives, becoming the “Superstars” we perceive them to be only as a result of following God’s leading into the realm of the unexplainable. And this is what God desires to do with you as well. Common people become everything but common when God gets involved.

In most cases and on most days, the results of following God’s guidance will not be dramatic. While we tend to focus on Daniel’s dramatic rescue one night in the lion’s den, what’s even far more unexplainable is how Daniel chose earlier to continue “kneeling on his knees three times a day, praying and giving thanks before his God, as he had been doing previously” (Dan. 6:10), despite the king’s edict that made such prayer a capital offense.

While we focus on David’s unexplainable ability with a slingshot, it’s even more unexplainable that for ten years he served faithfully under Saul, a king gone mad who even tried to kill David on numerous occasions. When the tables turned, and David had a chance to kill Saul, he refused to do so–a decision explainable only by God’s influence in David’s life.

Then there’s Joseph, revered as the dreamer who rose from a pit to a palace. While his ascent is clearly unexplainable apart from God, it was Joseph’s ability to forgive his brothers and to care abundantly for them and their families that truly defies the common and begs for explanation.

Following God into the realm of the unexplainable may produce some dramatic moments, like those experienced by Daniel, David, and Joseph. In most cases, however, you’ll find yourself living the unexplainable in the midst of very common circumstances and ordinary days. To embrace life in God, to experience His presence, and to follow His lead will inevitably place you in the realm of the unexplainable. You’ll find yourself feeling, thinking, speaking, acting, and relating in ways leading unquestionably to the conclusion that “God did it.” This is how it should be in every Christian’s life.

Still True Today

Consider a couple who are friends of mine. They spent two years designing and building their dream home on five acres in a prestigious area, only to sell it four years after moving in because they felt led by God to give more of their resources to the cause of Christ and the poor in particular. Or another friend, a very successful executive, who took early retirement, thereby forfeiting significant financial gain, so he could follow God’s leading into volunteer work with several ministries.

In both these cases, some asked, “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Your decision makes no sense.” But these friends would tell you today that their decisions made total sense.

God may lead you to stay at a job in spite of a demanding and unreasonable boss–a decision that seems unexplainable when fellow employees are jumping ship.

God may lead you to pass up a promotion and all the perks that go with it, because of the additional hours and responsibilities that would negatively impact your family and current ministry involvements.

You may be led by God to write a check that will be unexplainable to your financial planner. This is exactly what the Macedonian Christians did, as Paul tells us: “For I testify that according to their ability, and beyond their ability they gave of their own accord” (2 Cor. 8:3).

You may feel unexplainably prompted to share your faith in Jesus with a total stranger or with someone who previously made it clear he or she had no interest in God.

You may feel unexplainably compelled to befriend and express love to someone whom most others choose to avoid.

In other situations, God may choose to do the unexplainable on your behalf–like send His healing power upon your body to do what medical science has been unable to do, or bring reconciliation to a relationship you thought was beyond repair, or provide unexpected resources that ease your financial burden, or open a door to a job that’s even better than the one you were hoping and praying for, or anoint a ministry involvement that ends up bearing more fruit than you thought possible.

Whatever it is, God wants to lead you into this realm of the “unexplainable apart from Him”–so your life points to Him.

Paul describes this new realm in these words: “Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard, and which have not entered the heart of man, all that God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Cor. 2:9). Wow! Count me in!

But How?

The question then becomes, How do I get there?

For this to happen, you’ll need to see and approach life differently. Paul makes this truth abundantly clear when he commands our complete makeover in thought and behavior: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:2). Living in conformity to the world can’t get you into this new realm. You’ll need to undergo a transformation–one that begins with the “renewing of your mind,” and results in conformity to the will of God.

This transformation from explainable to unexplainable is what this book is about. Specifically, I want to encourage and challenge you to make three major shifts in the way you see and approach life. I call them lifeshifts. They’re the sort of thing I believe Paul had in mind when he told us to “not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” These lifeshifts will dramatically alter the way we seek to fulfill three of the deepest longings of the human heart–contentment, success, and significance.

The first lifeshift is from outside-in to inside-out–and it opens the door to experiencing the kind of contentment that is unattainable and unexplainable apart from God.

So, if you’re ready, turn the page … and begin your journey into the realm of the unexplainable.

Discussion Questions

What’s your initial reaction to this book’s fundamental premise– that you and the unfolding of your life should be in some ways unexplainable apart from God?

To what degree do you want your life to be unexplainable apart from God? (Answer not at all, somewhat, or to a great degree.) What do you find appealing or unappealing about experiencing the “unexplainable?”

Can you think of any ways in which you as a person or the unfolding events of your life to date are unexplainable apart from God?

Have you ever made a decision that appeared to make little or no sense to others, but clearly reflected God’s leading in your life? Explain what occurred and how you were motivated to follow through with such a decision.

Has God ever done something in or through your life for which the only logical explanation is “God did it”? If so, describe this experience. Also describe anything like this that may have occurred recently in the life of someone you know.

How did the experiences you just described in response to the previous question enable you or someone you know to point to God?

What would you like to see God do in you personally that would qualify as “unexplainable apart from God”? (Some examples: Helping you overcome a bad habit, or be able to truly forgive someone who has wronged you, or to change your attitude concerning something or someone, or to change something else about you).

In what current circumstance or situation do you need God to do something that only He can do? (Examples: Healing a relationship that seems broken beyond repair, meeting a financial need, bringing physical healing, or bringing some sort of resolution to a current conflict or trial.)

©2009 Cook Communications Ministries. Unexplainable by Don Cousins. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.

The Righteous Will Prosper

September 13th, 2009

Do not fret because of the wicked; do not be envious of wrongdoers, for they will soon fade like the grass, and wither like the green herb.

Trust in the Lord, and do good, so you will live in the land, and enjoy security.  Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.  He will make your vindication shine like the light, and the justice of your cause like the noonday.

Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him; do not fret over those who prosper in their way, over those who carry out evil devices.

Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath.  Do not fret – it leads only to evil.  For the wicked shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land.

Yet a little while, and the wicked will be no more; though you look diligently for their place, they will not be there. But the meek shall inherit the land, and delight themselves in abundant prosperity.

Psalm 37:1-11

Fools Rush In

September 12th, 2009

ISLAND BREEZES

This is Janice Thompson’s first in the Weddings by Bella series, and I’m so glad that it won’t be her last.  When I first started reading it, I thought it would be a bit of fluff.  Was I ever wrong!  I loved this book and all the quirky characters and crazy happenings.  I want to be part of this family.  I don’t even care which one.  I’m ready to set out for Texas to find them. 

It’s been good to find a book that I can love without that box of tissues handy.  I’m looking forward to the second in the series, Swinging on a Star, which is due out in January.  Right now you can read this great book.  It will have you guessing what might be in the next one. 

Oh, yes.  If you figure out the connection of all the chapter titles, leave a comment.  The first one to figure this out will receive a little surprise package from me. 

 

Delightful Romantic Comedy for Readers

Italian beauty meets charming Texan
in this new heartwarming (and hilarious) fiction series

                                                                                               

Fools Rush In is the printed page’s equivalent of a Hollywood romantic comedy hit, with its perfect blend of love and loads of laughter. Delivered by seasoned author Janice Thompson and her delightful cast of characters, Fools Rush In is the first book in the Weddings by Bella series, featuring a beautiful (albeit single) wedding planner, her boisterous Italian family and the antics they encounter with the family’s wedding-planning business.

 

In Fools Rush In, readers meet Bella Rossi, who may be nearing thirty, but her life is just starting to get interesting. When her Italian-turned-Texan parents hand over the family wedding planning business, Bella is determined not to let them down, transforming the business into one specializing in themed weddings. First up? A “Boot Scoot’n” country-western wedding that would make any Texan proud.

Fools Rush In

Weddings by Bella #1

by Janice Thompson

ISBN: 978-0-8007-3342-1

$12.99; September 2009

When a misunderstanding leads her to the DJ (and man) of her dreams, things   start falling

into place. But with a family like hers, nothing is guaranteed. Can the perfect

Texan wedding survive a pizza-making uncle with mob ties, an aunt who is a

lawsuit waiting to happen, and a massive delivery of 80 cowboy boots? Will

Bella run the family business into the ground or will her family scare off the one

guy she’s set her heart on?

 

And will Bella ever get to plan her own wedding?

 

Book one in the Weddings by Bella series, Fools Rush In is fun, fresh, and full of surprises. Readers will love the flavorful combination of Italian and Tex-Mex, and the hilarity that ensues when cultures clash.

 

Janice Thompson is a seasoned romance author and native Texan. An experienced wedding coordinator herself, Thompson brings the everyday drama and humor of getting married alive in her books. She lives in Texas.

 

Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, offers practical books that bring the Christian faith to everyday life.  They publish resources from a variety of well-known brands and authors, including their partnership with MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) and Hungry Planet.

9/11

September 11th, 2009

Lest we forget. 

Summer Salads

September 11th, 2009

The first recipe is from my Uncle Bud.  I was only about 17 or 18 at the time and didn’t have a clue how to fix something as simple as wilted lettuce.  Uncle Bud caught me trying to figure it out one day while I was at my grandmother’s house, and helped me out. 

The second is a salad recipe given to me by a friend, Norma Puckett.  It can help you use up some of the goodies from the tail end of your garden.

WILTED LETTUCE

Combine:

  • 1/2 c sugar
  • 1 tbsp vinegar & enough water to make 1 cup
  • 1/2 slice fried bacon and drippings

Pour over mixture of lettuce and chopped green onions.  Serve immediately.

VEGETABLE SALAD

  • 1 Sm head lettuce
  • 1/2 pkg frozen peas
  • 1 head cauliflower
  • 1 bunch green onions, sliced

Mix together and sprinkle with 1/4 cup sugar OR 4 oz grated cheddar cheese.

Add 12 oz bacon fried, drained and crumbled.  Spread 1 scant pint mayonnaise over salad.  Cover it completely.

I think I have some bacon.  That wilted lettuce certainly sounds good right now.  It’s been years since I’ve had any.  I wonder if this was just a regional or family thing.

 

Look to the East

September 10th, 2009

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:
Maureen Lang

and the book:

Look to the East (The Great War)

Tyndale House Publishers (August 4, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Maureen Lang has always had a passion for writing. She wrote her first novel longhand around the age of ten, and it was so fun she’s been writing ever since. She’s published nine novels and won several awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart award and the American Christian Fiction Writer’s Noble Theme award. She lives near Chicago, Illinois, with her husband and three children.

Visit the author’s website.

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 368 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers (August 4, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414324359
ISBN-13: 978-1414324357

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Briecourt, Northern France

Julitte Toussaint sucked in her breath and shut her eyes, as if by closing off her own vision she, too, might become invisible. Stuck high above the ground where someone so grown, just turned twenty-and-two, should never be caught, she shot a fervent prayer heavenward. Please let neither one look up!She clutched the book-sized tin to her chest and went death-still in hopes of going unnoticed.

“. . . those days may be behind us, Anton. At least for a while.” She heard his voice for the first time, the man who had come to visit the only château within walking distance of her village. The man whose blond hair had reflected the sun and nearly blinded her to the rest of his beauty. The perfect nose, the proportionate lips, the blue eyes that with one glance had taken her breath away.

Now he was near again, and her lungs froze. She feared the slightest motion might betray her.

“You’ll go back, Charles? Join this insanity, when you could follow me the other way?” She recognized Anton Mantoux’s voice without looking. He was the closest thing to aristocracy the town of Briecourt knew. Though Julitte had never spoken to him, she had heard him speak many times. Whenever the mayor called a village meeting, M. Mantoux always held the floor longest.

Charles . . . so that was his name.

“Who would have thought I had a single noble bone in my body?”

M. Mantoux snorted. “You’ll follow your foolhardy king, will you?”

“Much can be said about a man—a king, no less—who takes for himself the same risks he asks others to bear. I should never have left Belgium. I know my sister never will. How can I do less?”

“Ah, yes, your beautiful and brave little sister Isabelle . . . What is it you call her? Isa?”

“Careful with your thoughts, Anton,” said the man—Charles—whose voice was every bit as lovely as his face. “She’s little more than a child.”

“A child, but not much longer. And then you may have me in the family!”

Feeling a cramp in her leg, Julitte wanted nothing more than to climb down the tree and scurry away. Let them move on!she silently pleaded to God. Send a wind to blow them on their way before—

As if in instant answer to her prayer, a gust tore through the thick leaf cover of the beech tree in which she hid. In horror she watched the tin, dampened by her perspiring hands, slip from her grasp and take the path designed by gravity. She heard a dull thud as it bounced off the perfect forehead of the taller of the two men below, grazing the blond hair that so intrigued her.

A moment later both men looked up, and she might have thought their surprised faces funny had she planned the episode and been a bit younger to get away with such a prank.

“I thank you for the answered prayer of the wind, Lord,” she whispered in annoyed submission, “but not for the result, as You well know.”

“You there.” M. Mantoux’s voice was as commanding as ever, and it set her heart to fear-filled pounding. “Come down at once.”

Giving up any hope of dignity, Julitte shook away the cramp in one leg, then shimmied back along the thick branch until reaching the trunk that was somewhat wider than the span of her arms and legs. Her foot found the knothole she knew so well, and in a moment she stood on the ground, pulling at her skirt to cover pantaloons and the single petticoat she owned, a hand-me-down from her adoptive mother. From the corner of her eye she saw the towering blond man bending to retrieve her tin, a look of curiosity on his handsome face.

M. Mantoux stepped in front of Julitte. “What were you doing up there, girl? Who—”

Enlightenment reached his eyes before his voice faded away. Of course he knew who she was—everyone in and around her village knew she was the étrangère, the outsider. Not only because at least half of the village wouldn’t have welcomed an adopted child of Narcisse Toussaint, but because she had been born far away on the Island of Lepers, off the coast of Greece. Though Julitte had lived among the French villagers for nearly fifteen years, some still whispered of her heritage to this day, to passersby or children too young to already know.

“Come here, Julitte Toussaint.” He pointed to a spot a few feet away. “Stand there, not too close.”

M. Mantoux had an angry look about him, but she knew he always seemed that way from the curve of his nostrils to the arch in his brow. Even when he laughed—and she had seen him do that once—his face held the edge of ire whether with intent or not.

Intent was there now.

She obeyed his order and stopped where he’d told her, at the same time reaching for her property. The man holding the tin started to extend the item but took a moment to study it before completing the motion. His thumb traced the amateurishly tooled design, fashioned by her adoptive brother. Then he shook it and the items inside rattled. But he did not open it, for which she was silently grateful.

Both had to bend forward to pass the tin between them. Heplaced it, about the size of one of his hands, into both of hers.

“What were you doing on my property and what have you there?” M. Mantoux’s intimidating manner was the same he’d used when her cousin had lost one of his pigs and found it burrowing holes in the Mantoux Château garden. Only behind his intimidation today was a tone familiarly aimed her way—distaste mixed with a hint of the fear common to those who knew only her background and not her. “And why did you accost my guest?”

Julitte wanted to raise her gaze to M. Mantoux, to stare him down as she stared down her brother when he teased her the way brothers could. But M. Mantoux was not her brother. And standing in the handsome stranger’s shadow had stolen her courage.

Gazing downward, she mustered a respectful tone. “I was in the tree to retrieve the tin and decided to stay there until you passed by so to escape notice. The breeze whipped the box from my hold.” A quick glance at the blond cavalier revealed that his eyes stayed on her. Perhaps he was not so gallant, after all. What sort of man stared so boldly? Despite such thoughts, she knew what she must do. Keeping her gaze downcast, she turned to the handsome man she’d unwittingly troubled. “I offer you all my excuses, sir.”

“Accepted.”

The single word was issued softly and with a smile. Julitte let her gaze linger, welcoming his ready forgiveness. Her rapidly beating heart took a new direction.

“My friend is more magnanimous than needs be,” said M. Mantoux. “You are aware, Julitte, that this tree is on my property? If you fell and hurt yourself what should I have done?”

“I expect it would have been entirely my own fault, monsieur, and I would blame neither you nor the tree.”

“In any case, you’re far too old to be climbing like a waif. Narcisse shall hear of this.”

“I’m afraid he sent me on my mission before he left once again for the sea, Monsieur Mantoux.” She held up the tin. “This is my brother’s, you see, and I was told to fetch it and tell him to find another favorite spot to whittle. Closer to home.” She didn’t mention she had been the one to introduce her brother to this particularly dense and knotty tree.

The stranger—Charles—patted M. Mantoux’s shoulder. “There you see, Anton, it’s all perfectly understandable. Why berate the girl?”

Girl. But then, what else should he have called someone dallying about in a tree? Suddenly a vision of having met him under other circumstances filled her head, of her offering a brief and graceful curtsey and extending her hand for him to kiss. They would be formally introduced and have an intelligent conversation, about books and history and faraway places. Oh . . .

Instead M. Mantoux dismissed her as the peasant she was, unworthy to be presented to any guest of his noble household. And the two were already walking away.

#

Charles Lassone glanced back at the girl from the tree, unable to resist one last look. He could tell from her dress—clean despite her foray up to the branches—that she was a peasant from the village. For a moment, he wished circumstances were different. She was lovely, peasant or not. Her hair had shades of red and gold softened by strands of bronze . . . like a sunset. And her eyes were as dark as a black ocean reflecting the night sky. He’d caught himself staring but somehow couldn’t right his manners even when she’d noted the lapse.

Charles shook the reflection away, tagging such pointless thoughts as a premature product of war. He hadn’t even signed up! Yet. Now was most definitely notthe time to become entangled with a women, peasant or otherwise.

He was leaving France, returning to Belgium and to the side of King Albert. Rumor had it the king was leading his troops to battle. Charles just hoped he wasn’t too late.

#

Julitte walked the half-mile to the village, growing thirsty in the heat. Soon the cobbled square in the center of town came into view. Beneath the shadow of the church’s tall brick bell tower sat one of the two pubs in town. It ceased to be a stark contrast to the place of worship since the proprietor had at the behest of his wife stopped partaking in spirits—and consequently stopped serving them. He’d even rolled the piano out of his door and into the church, since so many of the songs sung in the pub no longer seemed the same without the local brew or some other liquor in hand.

Those in the de Colville family had protested the loudest since it was one less place their spirits were served, the one area to which they did not have to smuggle their goods.

Julitte was surprised to see a cluster of women and children gathered in the square. There were a limited number of huddles Julitte could join, even among women. She was restricted to those of the same Toussaint name or to those linked in some way. Even among Toussaints, she had to be careful.

Toussaint or de Colville . . . to be born in Briecourt was to be born into loyalty to one or the other. It was a simple fact no one questioned.

Ignoring her parched throat, Julitte circled the square until she found Oriane Bouget, Ori as she was called, who was with her grandmother Didi.

“What’s happened?”

“There . . . see for yourself.” Ori pointed with her chin to yet another bunch off to the side. There were the men of the village, near the town hall. The grand two-story brick structure would have fit any fine town, but here it sat in Briecourt, as out of place as a gem among pebbles. It housed the mayor’s office and garde civiquesquarters, the jail and the postal services all in one. A table had been brought outside and a man sat behind it taking down names, then sending the men one by one into the building.

“What is it?”

“They say we are at war,” Grandmother Didi said in her loud way, “and all the men must go and fight.” The tone of her voice accommodated her own lack of hearing, but just now it had quivered.

“War! With who? Not the English again?” Her father had told her about the many wars between the French and the English.

“No, the Germans, so they say.”

“Again?” It wasn’t all that long ago that France had feuded with their neighbors to the east, too. Julitte stared at the line of men, all of whom she knew. Including her adoptive brother.

“Pierre!” She left Ori’s side to rush to his.

“Have you heard the news?” A wide smile brightened his youthful, handsome face. Brown eyes as sweet and guileless as anyone as naïve as he, and here he was lining up . . . for war?

“What are you doing? Papa only left two days ago. Without his permission I don’t think—”

Whether it was her words or alarmed tone, Julitte caught the attention of men on both sides of Pierre. She had sat in schoolrooms with many of those in this line and knew the majority were best fit for harvesting—the sum of most dreams, the same as their fathers before them.

“Leave him be, woman!” Though his words were firm, the face of her long-ago classmate was lit with exhilaration, as if it were a holiday when anyone could be forgiven anything. “We’re off to be heroes the likes of which our town has never seen. Soon this very square will be filled with statues to our bravery.”

She lifted one brow. “Statues or bodies?”

“It would be a privilege to die for our country!” Pierre joined with his friend to recite the words, making Julitte believe they repeated whatever pronouncement they might have heard to form this line to begin with.

“Julitte,” Pierre whispered, pulling her aside. “I must go, don’t you see? Every man between the age seventeen and thirty is being called to service. I have no choice. And I wantto go.”

“Seventeen—but you’re not seventeen until—”

“Tomorrow is close enough, so he said I must go.”

Julitte found no words to counter such incredible information. How had this happened? Briecourt minded its own business; why couldn’t the rest of the world do the same?

“I will go, Julitte.” His words, soft but firm, left no room for doubt or argument.

She shook her head, wishing words to convince him otherwise would fall into place. None did. Instead of speaking, she handed him the tin she’d retrieved, full of his favorite woodcarvings that were little more than toys. How could it be that he should be signing up for war when that box proved he was still a child? Such thingswere not the stuff of soldiers.

Turning away, she headed to her cottage, ignoring Ori’s call. No one was home, with Narcisse at sea and her adoptive mother long since gone to heaven. But Julitte could go nowhere else just now. Her prayer corner was here. Her spirit, weighted with fear for her brother and all those in line, longed for the reassurance of knowing none were outside the boundaries of God’s loving concern.

She needed to pray.

#

“Arrête! Arrêterez votre véhicule ici.”

The French poilupounded the butt of his rifle on the pristine hood of Charles Lassone’s Peugeot. He had enough sense to hide his annoyance with the soldiers who’d set up this roadblock—that seemed the wisest choice when facing the barrel of a rifle. The blue and red clad officer spoke rapid French, motioning at the same time for Charles to exit the vehicle.

He did so, skyscraping above the agitated soldier who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. Another soldier, this one taller but still not equal to Charles’s six foot one, came to stand before him, both of them waving their rifles in Charles’s direction.

“What is this about?” Charles inquired in perfect French. Though his mother was American, his father was Belgian and a Walloon at that, so Charles had grown up speaking at least as much French as English.

“We regret to inform you, monsieur, that you may go no farther in your motorcar. You may take your personal belongings, and then take yourself elsewhere.”

Rifles or not, Charles lost his hold on hiding annoyance. “What do you mean, take myself elsewhere? With my motor, of course?”

“No, monsieur. Without your motor.”

“Listen here, I have dual citizenship between Belgium and America. France has no claim to me or to my possessions.”

“Necessity outweighs all laws of any country, monsieur. Now please empty the vehicle of your belongings and then be off.”

“I will not.” Grabbing the handle of his motorcar door, Charles moved no farther until the tip of the soldier’s rifle grazed his temple.

“All motors are being requisitioned for service, monsieur. If not here, then several miles down the road, by your own Belgian government. We are now united against a common enemy, and whether you donate the motor here or there makes no difference. You see?”

Charles did not see at all. If his motor had to be requisitioned, he far preferred to surrender it to a Belgian soldier. But as one could not be found, there was no point in arguing.

He retrieved his bag and jacket from the rear seat, then watched with a heart nearly as heavy as the motor itself while yet another French poiluresumed Charles’s seat behind the wheel and drove off, the crunch of crushed stones sounding beneath the little-worn tires. No doubt the 1913 blue Peugeot would be in the hands of a French officer before nightfall.

“Can you direct me to the nearest train station?” he asked of the remaining soldiers. They had regrouped into the same circle they had been in when Charles spotted them alongside the pile of logs they’d set up as a barrier on the old Roman gravel road leading to the Belgian border.

A snicker here and there gave him little hope of the easy answer he sought. One, the man who had first pounded on the hood of the motor, faced Charles.

“A station will do you no good, monsieur. All trains between our two countries have been requisitioned. They are now used exclusively for troops.” He lifted one of his feet and tapped a dusty boot. “A hike is in store for you.” Then he laughed along with the others.

Without a word, Charles started walking. At first his steps were slow, but after a moment he picked up his pace. Maybe he should be grateful only his motorcar had been impressed into duty.