In the Beginning

September 9th, 2012

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was in the beginning with God.

All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

John 1:1-5

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God, You’ve Got Mail!

September 7th, 2012

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:

 

Danette Crawford

 

and the book:

 

God, You’ve Got Mail!
Destiny Image (August 21, 2012)
***Special thanks to Susan Otis of Creative Resources, Inc for sending me a review copy.***

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 

Danette Crawford is an evangelist, author, international speaker and TV
host who became a youth pastor at age nineteen and by twenty-one was
traveling as an evangelist. She is founder and president of Joy
Ministries Evangelistic Association, which ministers to thousands
through its twenty-one outreach programs. Her television program, “Joy
in the Morning,” is broadcast weekly into over 165 million homes
nationally. She is a graduate of Lee University with a magna cum laude
in psychology, and a master’s of arts degree in counseling from Regent
University. The author of Don’t Quit in the Pit and Pathway to the
Palace, she has been featured in programs on ABC, CBS, NBC, many other
networks as well as in newspaper and magazine articles. She and her
daughter reside in Virginia.
Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

A young mother of an infant, abandoned by her husband, learns that God is well able to abundantly provide for her needs. Faced with financial hardship, she’d present her bills to God, and wait for Him to supply the funds. Relying on God‘s
promises for abundant provision, she held firm in faith and each month
her needs were supplied. Danette Crawford, author, ministry leader and
television evangelist whose program reaches more than 165 million homes
each week, shares fifteen keys that unlock God‘s
promises. True experiences from her life are combined with biblical
principles, reflections, personal application and a relevant prayer.

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99

Paperback: 272 pages

Publisher: Destiny Image

Language: English

ISBN-10: 0768403073

ISBN-13: 9780768403077

ISLAND BREEZES

Now that I’ve read this book, God is going to be getting mail from me.  This all makes sense.

Reading this book and making that decision has instilled a greater sense of peace in my life.  I just need to listen more to hear that still small voice in my life.

I’ve not been giving God my mail for very long, so I can’t give you any personal results.  But I trust our God and know He will always bless his children when we give Him the chance.

 
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:


–>

 

Chapter 1
“I Am More than Able to Meet Your Needs”
And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in
Christ Jesus.
—Philippians 4:19
I had to deal with
financial hardship long before I became a single mother. During and after
college, I traveled as an evangelist, and I relied completely on monetary
contributions from other people. In this phase of my life, I would often look
around and think, Okay, who’s going to
help me now? The truth was, I had already learned that God would provide for
me. Whenever the funds I owed to a particular convention center or other venue
didn’t come in from the collection I took at the church where I was preaching,
then the money would be waiting for me in my mailbox when I got home. Yet, even
though I knew in my mind that I ought to trust God, it took a while for my
heart to catch up and internalize that lesson.
Learning to Trust the Lord as Provider
I was preparing for a
city-wide youth crusade, and I was excited because I knew that a lot of young
people would be saved and ministered to. But the question kept nagging me:
Where in the world would I gather enough financial support? Many people had
made a commitment to give money, but, when it came down to it, they had backed
out for various reasons. Just days before the payment was due, I was
ministering at a Sunday morning service in a small church several hours away.
As the service came to a close, I still didn’t have enough funds to cover the
payment, which was due the next day. I felt the Lord leading me to drive to
Oklahoma City that afternoon to attend an evening service there. I wasn’t even
thinking about the possibility of collecting funds there, because I wasn’t
scheduled to minister in Oklahoma City. Yet, I felt very strongly that the Lord
was telling me to go there. So, I got in the car with my young companion, Shea,
and we drove to Oklahoma City. We arrived just in time for the evening service.
Much to my surprise, the
youth pastor who was leading the service began to talk about our upcoming youth
crusade! Someone in the congregation stopped him and said, “The young lady
evangelist who’s holding the event is here tonight.” The youth pastor then
asked me to come up to the platform and share about the crusade. I did, and
when I had I concluded my remarks, he took the microphone back from me and said
to the congregation, “This is a God thing, and if God tells you to help her in
any way, please do.”
As the service let out,
Shea and I moved about on our own, shaking hands with the congregants and
talking to some of them. When the crowd had dispersed, I was left standing
alone—without having received any financial gifts. I met up with Shea, and we
started making our way outside to our van. Shea said, “Did you see that lady in
the last row who was in a wheelchair?”
“No,” I replied.
“After the service, she
motioned for me to come over to where she was, and she asked what we needed,”
Shea went on. “I told her, ‘Seven thousand dollars by tomorrow morning,’ and
she wrote me a check!”
Talk about something to
shout about! We were both excited and bewildered. But then, worry put a damper
on my excitement as I thought, What if
her check isn’t any good?
The next morning, Shea
and I went straight to the bank. When we presented the check to the teller and
asked her to cash it, a strange expression crossed her face. She asked us to
take a seat in the waiting area for a minute. My mind began to go wild with
worry. This is a bad check, and they
think we’re responsible, I
thought to myself. What if they’re
calling the police? What if this? What if that? The minutes that passed
felt like an eternity. Finally, the teller returned to the window. She
apologized for the inconvenience and told us that she had called the woman
whose name was on the account to verify that she’d written the check for
$7,000. She then informed us that everything was fine, and she cashed the
check. Hallelujah!
The Lord taught me a
valuable faith lesson that day—to trust Him to provide, even if it meant relying
on the least likely of avenues. The last person I would have expected the
necessary funds to come from was a lady in the back row of a church in Oklahoma
City where I hadn’t even been scheduled to speak. Part two of that lesson was
when God said, “You had enough faith to get that check into your hand, but you
didn’t have enough faith to believe that it was good.” It’s true—I didn’t. But
God was teaching me to look to Him alone, and never to man, for my provision.
You Never Know How He’ll Meet Your
Needs
Father God will always
get His provision into our hands, but the channel through which He sends it is
often the channel we would consider the least likely. I’m convinced that the
Lord “sets us up” to build us up. The “setup” is that the funds never come from
the expected source, and the “build-up” is for our faith. Father builds our
faith on every step of this marvelous journey we are on with Him, as long as we
trust Him.
Look to the Lord Alone
When we are in the midst
of financial pressure, we have to be careful not to get angry and upset with
those around us whom we think should be helping us. This is true for all of us,
no matter our position—whether we’re single parents, businesspeople, pastors,
and so forth. We should always look to the Lord for our provision and not rely
on the arm of the flesh.
God taught me this
principle long before I became a single mom, but I forgot this particular faith
lesson when met with the mounting financial pressures I faced when I was
suddenly in the position of having to care for a newborn baby on my own and
without a steady source of income. Basically, my faith in God’s provision went
out the window.
One day, as I stood
staring at my file cabinet and pondered the bulging folder of bills marked
“Due,” I began to get angry. My dad could
write one check and pay off every one of my bills, I thought, and he wouldn’t even miss the money. As
the bitterness mounted in my heart, the Lord spoke to me. “It’s not his
responsibility to pay your bills now that you are grown,” He said. “But I’m
your heavenly Father, and I can write one check and pay every bill you have.
And I definitely wouldn’t miss it, because I own it all.” He went on to say
that He not only could, but He would, if I would only trust Him.
Wow! God has a way of
getting right to the point with a word of truth. The truth was, I shouldn’t
have been looking to my dad—or any person, for that matter—to be the source of
my provision. My heavenly Father was just waiting for me to look to Him. And
today, your heavenly Father is waiting for you to look to Him for your every
need. Jesus instructed us to pray,“Give
us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11 nkjv).
It doesn’t say, “Give us this day our monthly bread”; it says “our daily bread.” I don’t know about
you, but I kind of like to have the whole month budgeted out. And, if at all
possible, I like to know my budget for the upcoming year! But God doesn’t
usually work that way. His way requires us to place our trust in Him and to
walk by faith.
It’s in His Hands
God got through to me
loud and clear that day—so clear, in fact, that I began to treat every incoming
bill as if it didn’t have my name on it. As I mentioned before, I started
leaving it up to God. When I would go to my post office box and find a pile of
bills, I’d simply look up and say, “God, You’ve got mail!” Then, I’d take God’s
mail home with me and place it in the folder labeled “Due.” I wouldn’t open
that folder again until the money was put in my hand. At that time, I’d say,
“Okay, God. Which of Your bills do You want me to pay for You?”
My mortgage payments,
utility bills, and all other expenses were always paid on a monthly basis,
despite my lack of a steady income. Even with my ex-husband’s delinquent child
support payments, God saw to it that we never paid a single bill late.
All that You Have Comes from Him
The Lord taught me that
everything I have comes from Him. Every dollar, every meal, every piece of
clothing—everything I have comes from Him. He taught me to ask Him what He
wanted me to do with every dollar that came into my hand—that was an important
key to having all of my needs met. After all, we have this assurance in
Philippians 4:19 (nkjv): “My God shall supply all your need according
to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” If my needs aren’t met, something
is wrong. Maybe I spent God’s money on something I wanted or thought I needed
instead of paying one of His bills. As we learn to ask God what He wants us to
do with every dollar He puts into our hands, we can be free from stress and
worry. When we receive bills in the mail, we can simply look to the Lord and
say, “God, You’ve got mail!”
Trust Your Provider, Not Your Provision
The Lord often tests us—a
truth I was shocked to discover as a new Christian. In Exodus, we have an
example of God testing the children of Israel for several reasons, but
primarily to see whether they would respond in obedience and to gauge their
heart attitude toward money. It was a setup to see whether they would trust in
God and rely on Him to provide for their daily needs on a daily basis.
God provided food to the
Israelites while they were fleeing Egypt. It came in the form of manna, which
fell daily from heaven. “The Lord said to Moses, ‘I will rain down
bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough
for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my
instructions’” (Exodus 16:4).
A passing score on the
Israelites’ part would have been one that proved their complete faith and trust
in the true Provider, not their provision. And this is a test that each of us
must pass. Sometimes, we get used to trusting in our provision—our paycheck,
for example—that we lose sight of the One from whom it came. We just cruise
through life, never realizing that our trust has shifted from the Source of
everything to our salaries. When this happens, our trust in God weakens to the
point where, if we lose a job, go through a divorce, or face an overwhelming
situation that causes financial strain, we find it hard to hang on because the
thing we’ve trusted in is slipping through our fingers.
Our heavenly Father
promises to supply our daily bread—all of our needs (Philippians 4:19). But we
can’t plead the promises of God if we aren’t living by faith in God. One
covenant benefit of being a child of God is the confidence that He will keep
His part of the covenant and supply whatever we need. We need to rest in that!
Trust in His Promises
When you go to the
doctor’s office for a checkup, the receptionist asks you to produce your
insurance benefits card. So, what do you do? You pull it out of your wallet
with confidence because you know you have benefits! You don’t say, “I have
benefits, but I’ll go ahead and pay for this visit out of pocket.” That would
be foolish. And it’s the same when it comes to our covenant benefits as
children of the King. Pull out your list of benefits—the Bible—to find a
detailed compilation of all of the covenant blessings that belong to you. Those
blessings include health, provision, peace, and joy, to mention just a few!
Heaven doesn’t have any
bread shortages, so don’t walk around with your head hanging low. Hold your
head up and boldly stand on the Word—your benefit Book—as you trust God to give
you your daily bread. Your means of provision may change, but your Provider is
the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Psalm 37:25 says, “I was young and now I am old, yet I have
never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.” So,
don’t worry. God has never forsaken the righteous, and He isn’t about to
abandon you. Never will you need to beg for bread. You may need to exercise
your faith in Him to receive your daily bread, but that’s a great place to be,
because your intimacy with the Father grows as you rely on Him more and more.
Building Trust by “Just Enough”
When the children of Israel
were crossing over from the land of “not enough” (Egypt) to the land of “more
than enough” (the Promised Land), they had to walk through the land of “just
enough” (the desert). In the desert, they had just enough for that day. They
didn’t lack, yet they didn’t have an abundance of food or provisions. They had
just enough—their daily bread, or manna, from heaven.
Similarly, when Jesus
commissioned the Twelve Apostles, He gave them the following instructions: “Take nothing for the journey except a
staff—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra
tunic” (Mark 6:8–9).
Whenever we cross over to
a new place or ascend to a higher level, we come through a period in which we
have to rely on what I call the “daily bread.” Why is this period necessary to
pass through as we move up to the next level? Because the next level will
require an increase in faith and trust in God.
Every time our ministry
is about to cross over to the next level, I’m required to walk through the land
of “just enough.” It isn’t fun, but what should we expect from a process that’s
meant to kill the flesh? This is the reason many people choose to remain in
their comfort zones rather than crossing over into their “potential zones.”
Over the years, each time
our ministry has outgrown its office space and decided to relocate to a larger
facility, the larger facility inevitably cost more—and I had to believe God to
give us the extra funds every month. As I stepped out in faith, we had just
enough to make each monthly payment. We never had any extra money, but we
always had just enough to meet the payment. It was as if God was doling out our
daily “manna” during these seasons of crossing over to the next level.
The same process applied
to me as a homeowner. When I first bought my house, I had just enough money to
pay the mortgage and utility costs every month. Groceries weren’t even in my
budget! But God always made sure that I had enough, even if it didn’t look very
promising on paper. It’s during this “daily bread” stage that we are
continually stretched and our faith is challenged to grow. These seasons are
never comfortable to the flesh because they are designed to rid us of all waste
and excess. The flesh has to be disciplined in order for us to climb to a
higher level.
Don’t Get Too Comfortable, or You
Might Just Get Stuck
One problem with our
flesh is, it likes the familiar. We grow comfortable with what we know, to the
point where, when God calls us to journey to a better place, we don’t feel like
moving. The manna for the Israelites was a temporary provision. God didn’t plan
for them to remain in the desert dining on manna for the rest of their lives.
It was their provision for the process of crossing over to the Promised
Land—the land of more than enough. They could have made the transition in a
matter of eleven days, but, because of their grumbling, complaining, and
unbelief, they took forty years to cross over. Imagine—four decades of eating
manna!
When your manna begins to
dry up, it doesn’t mean you are going backward. It means you are going
forward—forward into the Promised Land. Exodus 16:35 says, “The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a land that
was settled; they ate manna until they reached the border of Canaan.” They
were given manna until they crossed over to the destination God had been
leading them to all along.
In my own life, as well
as in the lives of others, I have seen the “manna” begin to dry up on the
precipice of a divine destination. At that point, the flesh screams out, “Don’t
mess with my manna!” The provision I initially resented has become familiar,
and my flesh resists any further growth that’s required for me to cross over to
a new place, even if it’s a better place.
I was ministering in a
city when I met a Christian woman in need of physical healing. In the middle of
a miracle service, the Holy Spirit began to move in her, and she received her
healing. Later, she told me that instead of rejoicing over the healing she had
received, the first thing she thought was, Oh,
no! I’m not going to receive my disability check any longer.
When God messes with our
manna, we can get a little worried if we have been depending on the manna for
any length of time. Due to the financial strains I faced after my husband left,
I became a participant in the government-sponsored Women, Infants, and Children
(WIC) program when my daughter, Destiny, was very young. I received formula,
cereal, milk, peanut butter, and a couple of other items each month. We were
beneficiaries of this program for about eighteen months, while I got back on my
feet, financially. One day, when I was filling out the paperwork to reenroll in
the program, the Lord spoke to me and said that it was time to get off the
“manna.” I reached the part where it asked me to write the income I expected
for the next six months. As I went to fill in the amount, the Holy Spirit spoke
to me again, saying, “Is that what you are expecting?” I had been praying for
God to increase my monthly income to a certain amount—an amount that would have
disqualified me from the WIC program. I was faced with a dilemma: trust in God,
or trust in WIC—the “manna” I had grown accustomed to relying on. I knew I
could count on my manna. What was I going to do without it?
I was going to cross over
to the next level—that’s what I was going to do! I wasn’t going to need my
manna any longer, but I needed to take a step of faith. I decided not to
reenroll in the program, and I never went back on WIC in the years that
followed, because I knew God had spoken to me, even though my flesh was
screaming out for the manna.
It was amazing! Very soon
after I obeyed the Holy Spirit, my income increased—sure enough, by an amount
that exceeded the WIC guidelines. What is the “manna” in your life that has
begun to dry up? Don’t get nervous when God messes with your manna—it’s a good
sign. It means that you are about to cross over to your Promised Land, the land
of more than enough. Don’t get stuck on the manna. God has something much
better for you.
God Is All You Need
When you take what you
have and you look to the Lord, you will always have more than enough. Remember,
He owns everything—it’s impossible to “overdraw” on your account of covenant
blessings from Him!
A good illustration to
help you remember this truth is found in the biblical account of the feeding of
the five thousand. Matthew 14:19 says, “Taking
the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and
broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave
them to the people.” Jesus took what he had—that was His starting point.
And that’s where most people quit. They look at their resources and they get
depressed and discouraged, feel sorry for themselves, or try to manipulate
others to give them resources. Just simply take what you have.
Second, Jesus looked up
to heaven. Don’t look down—look up and hold your head up. This is where your
faith and your trust come in.
Then, third, Jesus gave
thanks. Stop complaining about what you don’t have and start praising God for
what you do have. A grateful heart of thanksgiving is always a forerunner for
an increase in blessing. If you aren’t thankful for what you have, why would
God give you more?
Fourth and finally, Jesus
took a step of faith. Although He had only five loaves and two fish, He started
giving out what He had—now, that was a step of faith! When we take a step of
faith and just start doing what we now we should do, provision will always be
there.
Matthew 14:20–21 says, “They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples
picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of
those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.” They
all ate—all five thousand men, along with an additional number of women and
children! Not only did they all eat; they were all satisfied. They didn’t just
get an appetizer. No one left hungry. And, on top of that, there were twelve
basketfuls left over! Now, don’t tell me that God doesn’t do big things with
small resources. He rarely did big things with big resources, but He always did
big things with small resources.
Father God wants you to
take what you have, look to Him, give thanks, and then take a step of faith as
you walk in obedience. Don’t despise small beginnings. Don’t let the size of your
resources, the size of your storm, or your perceived mistakes hold you back.
Father owns it all, and He is ready and willing to meet all your needs!
Little Keys to Abundant Provision
Key #1: Trust your Provider, not your
provision.
Questions for Reflection and Personal
Application
1.
Have you ever found yourself faced with a
financial need that you never would have been able to meet on your own? What
was the outcome?
2.
Do you make a habit of seeking the Lord’s will
regarding how you manage your money? If so, what kind of direction has He given
you in this area?
If not,
what can you do to invite God to become more involved in your fiscal
management?
3.
Have you ever passed up an opportunity for
promotion or progress because you were “stuck” in the familiar? What was the
result?
Prayer
Ask God to help you to trust Him as your
provider and to rely on Him to meet your needs as you seek to obey His Word and
follow His will.

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To Write a Wrong

September 6th, 2012

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

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

Today’s Wild Card author is:

 

Robin Caroll

 

and the book:

 

To Write a Wrong
B&H Books (September 15, 2012)
***Special thanks to Shannon Kozee of B&H Fiction for sending me a review copy.***

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 

Robin Caroll has authored twelve previous books including the Holt Medallion Award of Merit winner, Deliver Us From Evil.
She gives back to the writing community by serving as Conference
Director for American Christian Fiction Writers. A proud southerner,
Robin lives with her husband, three daughters, and two precious
grandsons in Arkansas.

Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

 

In Angola State Penitentiary, a man is serving time for a crime he
didn’t commit. Riley Baxter is an eager reporter desperate for a story
to make a name for herself. When she stumbles upon the daughter of the
incarcerated man, Riley sees a little too much of herself in the teen,
and vows to help prove her father’s innocence.

At the same time,
Hayden Simpson has his hands full with keeping his little sister in
line, worrying about his job as Police Commissioner, and dealing with
his past emotional baggage. The last thing he needs is someone blowing
the lid off his emotional bucket. But when Riley Baxter storms into his
life, struggling to understand why God would let bad things happen to
good people, Hayden has no choice but to follow his heart.

Now, Riley and Hayden must work together to uncover the truth of the past . . . before someone shuts Riley up for good.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99

Paperback: 352 pages

Publisher: B&H Books

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1433672138

ISBN-13: 9781433672132

ISLAND BREEZES

Love tangled up with mystery and suspense.  Riley is still trying to come to grips with the deaths of her parents.

She’s also desperate to come up with some way to save her job at Life in the South and her dreams of being an investigative journalist.

She found the story and as a consequence, has a contract put out on her.

While trying to stay alive and finish her story love enters the picture.  Her love interest and his sister are also put in danger, because they try to help her.

This story will have you guessing who will get shot and who will not.

This book is the second in the Justice Seekers novels, but is a good stand alone read.  That said, I still want to read the first.  It, too, sounds intriguing.

 
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

To Write a Wrong: A Justice Seekers Novel

Search inside this book

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If I Were the Devil

September 4th, 2012

This is something I just ran across today and thought I would share it with you.  For those who aren’t acquainted with this American radio broadcaster, you missed hearing some really good stuff.  I particularly liked his The Rest of the Story segments.  He lived from 1918 to 2009, and received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2005.

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Love’s Reckoning

September 4th, 2012

Love’s Reckoning

 

By Laura Frantz 

In this sweeping family saga set in western Pennsylvania, one man’s choices in love and work, in friends and enemies, set the stage for generations to come. Love’s Reckoning is the first entry in The Ballantyne Legacy, a rich, multi-layered historical quartet from talented writer Laura Frantz, beginning in the late 1700s and following the Ballantyne family through the end of the Civil War.

On a bitter December day in 1785, Silas Ballantyne arrives at the door of master blacksmith Liege Lee in York, Pennsylvania. Just months from becoming a master blacksmith himself, Silas is determined to finish his apprenticeship and move west. But Liege soon discovers that Silas is a prodigious worker and craftsman and endeavors to keep him in Lancaster. Silas becomes interested in both of Liege’s daughters, the gentle and faith-filled Eden and the clever and high-spirited Elspeth. When he chooses one, will the other’s jealousy destroy their love?

ISLAND BREEZES

Get out that box of tissues. You’re certainly going to need it when you get mixed up with this dysfunctional family.

Two sisters both want the same man, but if he decides he wants one of them, which will it be? Will he take one of them west when he moves on to Fort Pitt? Will he decide to stay where he is?

Don’t be too sure about anything here, because there are twists and surprises to this love story.

It’s a story I didn’t want to end. I certainly hope Ms Frantz is working on the next book in The Ballantyne Legacy series. I really want to start reading it today.

***A special thank you to Donna Hausler for providing a review copy.***

Laura Frantz is a lover of history, is the author of The Frontiersman’s Daughter, Courting Morrow Little, and The Colonel’s Lady, and currently lives in the misty woods of Washington with her husband and two sons.

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.

Available September 2012 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

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National Empty Chair Day

September 3rd, 2012

     

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The Great Commission

September 2nd, 2012

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you wile I was still with you – that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.”

Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them,

“Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day,

and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.”

Luke 24:44-47

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Tea Party Culture War

August 30th, 2012

Tea Party Culture War A CLASH OF WORLDVIEWS

America stands at a crossroads: culturally, economically, and politically. Enter The Tea Party Movement, whose focus is primarily fiscal conservatism, government accountability, and reduced taxation.

Currently, America suffers from a clash of worldviews, but the issue is much deeper than politics; it is ultimately a spiritual battle between good and evil. For the sake of generations to come, we need to win this war. We need to take action to defend our beliefs. We need to take the right road.

Tea Party Culture War by Steve Johnston from WinePress Publishing on Vimeo.

ISLAND BREEZES

For me this is an exciting book. It builds upon what I learned at Bible college. This is a history of how conflicting world views have brought us to this point in time. It’s also a map of where we’re presently headed.

Today’s world has changed drastically while still in the process of even more drastic changes.

This cultural war of ours involves not only culture, but also politics, finances and religion. Open your eyes and ears. It surrounds us and is pushing us towards last days.

I would advise that you read this book and listen to it’s message. 

***A special thanks to litfuse for providing a review copy.*** 

  A long-time resident of California, author and economist, Steve Johnston, B.S., J.D., earned a Juris Doctorate degree from Western State University of Law and a Theological degree from Calvary Chapel School of Ministry. Mr. Johnston has over 20 years experience in prison ministry and Bible teaching, and has served as a chaplain in Orange County and Los Angeles jails as well as Pelican Bay, a California maximum security prison.

The author of When Is Judgment Day? (Anomalos, 2008), Mr. Johnston describes his book, The Tea Party Culture War (WinePress, 2011) as a systematic manifesto of the Tea Party Movement. Mr. Johnston and his wife of 38 years divide their time between homes in Palm Desert, California and Brookings, Oregon. They have one adult daughter and one granddaughter.

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Over the Edge

August 30th, 2012

Seth Kincaid remembers almost everything… except getting married!

 

Seth Kincaid survived a fire in a cave, but he hasn’t been the same since. Then he fought in the Civil War and returned to Colorado crazier than ever.

Somewhere along the line, it appears Seth got married. Oh, he has a lot of excuses, but his wife isn’t too happy to find out Seth doesn’t remember her. Callie isn’t a long-suffering woman. When Seth disappeared, she searched, prayed, and worried. Now she’s come out west to wrangle her long-lost husband.

Seth is willing to make amends. Callie is more interested in shooting him. Can they rekindle their love before one of them goes over the edge?

ISLAND BREEZES

A lot of men might wish they couldn’t remember getting married, but Seth would really like to know what got him into this mess.

Callie remembers. Their infant son is a constant reminder. All Callie wants to do is find that low down skunk who deserted her and shoot him.

When she’s left without a home, she decides now is the time to head west so shen can do just that.

She’s a spunky woman who isn’t afraid to battle bandits, but she’s afraid to trust her heart again. How long can she keep her husband at arm’s length? It appears to be forever since Seth still doesn’t remember her or what happened.

***A special thanks to litfuse for providing a review copy.***

Mary Connealy writes fun and lively “romantic comedy with cowboys” for the inspirational market. She is the author of the successful Lassoed in Texas, Montana Marriages, and Sophie’s Daughters series, and her novel Calico Canyon was nominated for a Christy Award. She lives on a ranch in eastern Nebraska with her husband, Ivan, and has four grown daughters. Visit her on her Web site maryconnealy.com or her blog http://mconnealy.blogspot.com.

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House of Mercy

August 30th, 2012

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:

 

Erin Healy

 

and the book:

 

House of Mercy
Thomas Nelson (August 7, 2012)
***Special thanks to Rick Roberson of The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

 

Erin Healy is an award-winning fiction editor who has worked with talented novelists such as James Scott Bell, Melody Carlson, Colleen Coble, Brandilyn Collins, Traci DePree, L. B. Graham, Rene Gutteridge, Michelle McKinney Hammond, Robin Lee Hatcher, Denise Hildreth, Denise Hunter, Randy Ingermanson, Jane Kirkpatrick, Bryan Litfin, Frank Peretti, Lisa Samson, Randy Singer, Robert Whitlow, and many others.

She began working with Ted Dekker in 2002 and edited twelve of his heart-pounding stories before their collaboration on Kiss, the first novel to seat her on “the other side of the desk.”

Erin is the owner of WordWright Editorial Services, a consulting firm specializing in fiction book development. She is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers and the Academy of Christian Editors. She lives with her family in Colorado.

Visit the author’s website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

 

Beth has a gift of healing-which is why she wants to become a vet and help her family run their fifth-generation cattle ranch. Her father’s dream of helping men in trouble and giving them a second chance is her dream too. But it only takes one foolish decision for Beth to destroy it all.

Beth scrambles to redeem her mistake, pleading with God for help, even as a mystery complicates her life. But the repercussions grow more unbearable-a lawsuit, a death, a divided family, and the looming loss of everything she cares about. Beth’s only hope is to find the grandfather she never knew and beg for his help. Confused, grieving, but determined to make amends, she embarks on a horseback journey across the mountains, guided by a wild, unpredictable wolf who may or may not be real.

Set in the stunningly rugged terrain of Southern Colorado, House of Mercy follows Beth through the valley of the shadow of death into the unfathomable miracles of God’s goodness and mercy.

Genre: Christian Fiction | Suspense

Product Details:

List Price: $15.99

Paperback: 284 pages

Publisher: Thomas Nelson

Language: English

ISBN-10: 140168551X

ISBN-13: 9781401685515

ISLAND BREEZES

This book is about a young woman’s struggles and the mysterious things that keep happening.

It’s also about the mysterious wolf who guides Beth on her searches. She doesn’t always find what she’s looking for.

What she does discover is mercy and the fact that mercy comes in various forms.

You’re going to need that box of tissues before you finish this book.

The ending is just the beginning. I’m very glad to be introduced to the writings of Erin Healy. I’m looking forward to her next book.

 
AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:


–>

 

Chapter 1
It wasn’t every day that an old saddle could improve a
horse’s life.
That was what Beth Borzoi was thinking as she stood in the
dusty tack room that smelled like her favorite pair of leather boots. In the
back corner where the splintering-wood walls met, she tugged the faded leather
saddle off the bottommost rung of the heavy-duty rack, where it had sat, unused
and forgotten, for years.
Her little brother, Danny, would have said she was stealing
the saddle. He might have called her a kleptomaniac. That was too strong a
word, but Danny was fifteen and liked to throw bold words around, cocky-like,
show-off rodeo ropes aimed at snagging people. She loved that about him. It was
a cute phase. Even so, she had formed a mental argument against the characterization
of her- self as a thief, in case she needed to use it, because Danny was too
young to understand the true meaning of even stronger words like sacrifice or
situational ethics.
After all, she was working in secret, in the hidden folds of
a summer night, so that both she and the saddle could leave the Blazing B
unnoticed. In the wrong light, it might look like a theft.
The truth was, it was not her saddle to give away. It was
Jacob’s saddle, though in the fifteen years Jacob had lived at the ranch, she had
never seen him use it. The bigger truth was that this saddle abandoned to
tarnish and sawdust could be put to better use. The fenders were plated with
silver, pure metal that could be melted down and converted into money to save a
horse from suffering. Decorative silver bordered the round skirt and framed the
rear housing. The precious metal had been hammered to conform to the gentle
rise of the cantle in the back and the swell in the front. The lovely round
conchos were studded with turquoise. Hand-tooled impressions of wild mountain f
lowers covered the leather everywhere that silver didn’t.
In its day, it must have been a fine show saddle. And if
Jacob valued that at all, he wouldn’t have stored it like this.
Under the naked-bulb beams of the tack room, Beth’s body
cast a shadow over the pretty piece as she hefted it. She blew the dirt and
dander off the horn, swiped off the cracked seat with the flat of her hand,
then turned away her head and sneezed. Colorado’s dry climate had not been kind
to the leather.
She wasn’t stealing. She was saving an animal’s life.
The latch on the barn door released Beth to the midnight air
with a click like a stolen kiss. The saddle weighed about thirty-five pounds,
which was easy to manage when snatching it off a rack and tossing it onto a
horse’s back. But it would feel much heavier by the time she reached her
destination. She’d parked her truck a ways off where the rumbling old clunker
wouldn’t raise questions or family members sleeping in the nearby ranch house.
She’d left her dog at the foot of Danny’s bed with clear orders to stay. She
hoped the animal would mind.
Energized, she crossed the horses’ yard. A few of them
nickered greetings at her, including Hastings, who nuzzled her empty pockets
for treats. The horses never slept in the barn’s stalls unless they were sick.
Even in winter they stayed in the pasture, preferring the outdoor lean-to
shelters.
The Blazing B, a 6,500-acre working cattle ranch, lay to the
northwest of Colorado’s San Luis Valley. The region was called a valley because
this portion of the state was a Rocky Mountain ham- mock that swung between the
San Juans to the west and the Sangre de Cristos to the east. But at more than
seven thousand feet, it was no low-lying flatland. It was, in fact, the highest
alpine valley in the world. And it was the only place in the world that Beth
ever wanted to live. Having graduated from the local community college with
honors and saved enough additional money for her continuing education, she
planned to leave in the fall to begin her first year of veterinary school. She
would be gone as long as it took to earn her license, but her long-term plan
was to return as a more valuable person. Her skills would save the family
thousands of dollars every year, freeing up funds for their most important
task—providing a home and a hard day’s work to discarded men who needed the
peace the Blazing B had to offer.
On this late May night, a light breeze stirred the alfalfa
growing in the pasturelands while the cattle grazed miles away. The herds
always spent their summers on public lands in the mountains while their winter
feed grew in the valley. They were watched over by a pool rider, a hired man
who was a bit like a cow’s version of a shepherd. He stayed with them through
the summer and would bring them home in the fall.
With the winter calving and spring branding a distant
memory, the streams and irrigation wells amply supplied by good mountain
runoff, and the healthy alfalfa fields thickening with a June cutting in mind,
the mood at the Blazing B was peaceful.
When Beth was a quarter mile beyond the barn, a bobbing
light drew her attention to the west side of the pasture, where ancient cottonwood
trees formed a barrier against seasonal winds and snows. She paused, her eyes
searching the darkness beyond this path that she could walk blindfolded. The
light rippled over cottonwood trunks, casting shadows that were
indistinguishable from the real thing.
A man was muttering in a low voice, jabbing his light around
as if it were a stick. She couldn’t make out his words. Then the yellow beam
stilled low to the ground, and she heard a metallic thrust, the scraping ring
of a shovel’s blade being jammed into the dirt.
Beth worried. It had to be Wally, but what was he doing out
at this hour, and at this place? The bunkhouse was two miles away, and the men
had curfews, not to mention strict rules about their access to horses and
vehicles.
She left the path and approached the trees without a
misstep. The moonlight was enough to guide her over the uneven terrain.
“Wally?”
The cutting of the shovel ceased. “Who wants to know?” “It’s
Beth.”
“Beth who?”
“Beth Borzoi. Abel’s daughter. I’m the one who rides
Hastings.” “Well, sure! Right, right. Beth. I’m sorry you have to keep telling
me. You’re awfully nice about it.”
The light that Wally had set on the ground rose and pointed
itself at her, as if to confirm her claims, then dropped to the saddle resting
against her thighs. Wally had been at the ranch for three years, since a stroke
left his body unaffected but struck his brain with a short-term memory
disorder. It was called anterograde amnesia, a forgetfulness of experiences but
not skills. He could work hard but couldn’t hold a job because he was always
forgetting where and when he was supposed to show up. Here at the ranch he
didn’t have to worry about those details. He had psychologists and strategies
to guide him through his days, a community of brothers who reminded him of
everything he really needed to know. Well, most things. He had been on more
than one occasion the butt of hurtful pranks orchestrated by the men who shared
the bunkhouse with him. It was both a curse and a blessing that he was able to
forget such incidents so easily.
Beth was the only Beth at the Blazing B, and the only female
resident besides her mother, but these facts regularly eluded Wally. He never
forgot her father, though, and he knew the names of all the horses, so this was
how Beth had learned to keep putting herself back into the context of his life.
“You’re working hard,” she said. “You know it’s after
eleven.” “Looking for my lockbox. I saw him take it. I followed him here just
an hour ago, but now it’s gone.”
Sometimes it was money that had gone missing. Sometimes it
was a glove or a photograph, or a piece of cake from her mother’s dinner table
that was already in his belly. All the schedules and organizational systems in
the world were not enough to help Wally with this bizarre side effect of his
disorder: whenever a piece of his mind went missing, he would search for it by
digging. Dr. Roy Davis, Wally’s psychiatrist, had curtailed much of Wally’s
compulsive need to overturn the earth by having him perform many of the Blazing
B’s endless irrigation tasks. Even so, the ten square miles of ranch were
riddled with the chinks of Wally’s efforts to find what he had lost.
“That must be really frustrating,” she said. “I hate it when
I lose my stuff.”
“I didn’t lose it. A gray wolf ran off with it. I had it
safe in a secret spot, and he dug it up and carried off the box in his teeth.
Hauled it all the way up here and reburied it. Now tell me, what’s a wolf gonna
do with my legal tender? Buy himself a turkey leg down at the supermarket?”
Wally must have kept a little cash in his box. She could
under- stand his frustration. But this claim stirred up disquiet at the back of
her mind. Dr. Roy would need to know if Wally was seeing things. First off,
gray wolves were hardly ever spotted in Colorado. They’d been run out of the
state before World War II by poachers and hos- tile ranchers, and their return
in recent years was little more than a rumor. Wally might have seen a coyote.
But for another thing, no wild animal dug up a man’s buried treasure and
relocated it. Except maybe a raccoon.
A raccoon trying to run off with a heavy lockbox might actually
be entertaining.
“Tell you what, Wally. If he’s buried it here we’ll have a
better chance of finding it in the morning. When the sun comes up, I’ll help
you. But they’ll be missing you at the bunkhouse about now. Let me take you
back so no one gets upset when they see you’re gone.” Jacob or Dr. Roy would do
bunk checks at midnight.
“Upset? No one can be as upset as I am right now.” He thrust
the shovel into the soft dirt at his feet. “I saw the dog do it. I tracked him
all the way here, like he thought I wouldn’t see him under this full moon. Fool
dog—but who’d believe me? It’s like a freaky fairy tale, isn’t it? Well, I’d
have put that box in a local vault if I didn’t have to keep so many stinkin’
Web addresses and passwords and account numbers and security questions at my
fingertips.” He withdrew a small notebook from his hip pocket and waved the
pages around. It was one of the things he used to keep track of details. “Maybe
I’ll have to rethink that.”
Beth’s hands had become sweaty and a little cramped under
the saddle’s weight. She used her right knee to balance the saddle and fix her
grip. The soft leather suddenly felt like heavy gold bricks out of someone
else’s bank vault.
“Well, let’s go,” she said. “I’ve got my truck right on down
the lane.”
“What do you have there?” Wally returned the notebook to his
pocket, hefted the shovel, and picked his way out of the under- brush, finding
his way by flashlight.
“An old saddle. It’s been in the tack room for years.” She
expected Wally to forget the saddle just as quickly as he would for- get this
night’s adventure and her promise to help him dig in the morning.
He lifted one of the fenders and stroked the silver with his
thumb. “Pretty thing. Probably worth something. Not as much as that box is
worth to me, though.”
“We’ll find it,” Beth said.
“You bet we will.” Wally fell into step beside her. “Thanks
for the ride back, Beth. You’re a good girl. You got your daddy in you.”
With Jacob’s old saddle resting on a blanket in the bed of
her rusty white pickup, Beth followed an access road from the horse pasture by
her own home down into the heart of the Blazing B.
The property’s second ranch house was located more strategically
to the cattle operation, and so it was known to all as the Hub. The Hub was a
practical bachelor pad. Outside, the branding pens and calving sheds and
squeeze chutes and cattle trucks filled up a dusty clearing around the house.
Inside, the carpets and old leather furniture, even when clean, smelled like
men who believed that a hard day’s work followed by a dead sleep—in any
location—was far more gratifying than a hot shower. The house was steeped in
the scent stains of sweat and hay, horses and manure, tanned leather and
barbecue smoke. The men who slept here lived like the bachelors they were. If
their daily labors weren’t enough to impress a woman, the cowboys couldn’t be
bothered with her.
Dr. Roy Davis, known affectionately by all as Dr. Roy, was a
lifelong friend of Beth’s father. Years ago, after the death of Roy’s wife,
Abel and Roy merged their professional passions of ranching and psychiatry and
expanded the Blazing B’s purpose. It became an outreach to functional but
wounded men like Wally who needed a home and a job. Dr. Roy brought his teenage
son, Jacob, along. Now thirty-one, Jacob had never found reason to leave,
except for the years he’d spent away at college earning multiple degrees in agriculture
and animal management. Jacob had been the Blazing B’s general operations
manager for more than five years.
Jacob and his father shared the Hub with Pastor Eric, who
was a divorced minister, and Emory, a therapist who was once a gang leader.
These men were the Borzois’ four full-time employees.
The other men who lived at the Blazing B were called “associates.”
They occupied the bunkhouse, some for a few weeks and some for years. At
present there were six, including Wally.
When Beth stopped her truck in front of the Hub’s porch,
Wally slipped off the seat of her cab, closed the rusty door, and went directly
around back to the bunkhouse. She pulled away and had reached the end of the
drive when a rut jarred the truck and rattled the shovel he’d left in the truck
bed.
In spite of her hurry to take Jacob’s saddle to the people
who needed it, she put the truck in park, jumped out, and jogged the tool up to
the house. The porch light lit the squeaky wood steps, and she took them two at
a time. Jacob would see the tool in the morning when he came out to start up
his own truck and head out to what- ever project was on the schedule. She’d
phone him to make sure.
She was tipping the handle into the corner where the porch
rail met the siding when the Hub’s front door opened and Jacob leaned out.
“Past your bedtime, isn’t it?” he said,
but he was smiling at
her. Over the years they had settled into a comfortable
big-brother- little-sister relationship, though Beth had never fully outgrown
her adolescent crush on him.
“Found Wally digging up by the barn,” she said.
Surprise pulled his dark brows together. “Now? Where is he?”
“Back in bed, I guess. He said he followed a wolf up to our place. You might
want Dr. Roy to look into that. Your dad should know if Wally’s . . . seeing
things.”
Jacob nodded as he stepped out the door and leaned against
the house. He crossed his arms. “Coyote maybe?”
“Try suggesting that to him. And when was the last time we
had a coyote down here? It’s been ages—not since Danny gave up his chicken
coop.”
“I’ll mention that to Dad. It’s probably nothing. What had
you out at the barn at this hour? Horses okay?”
“Fine.” Beth’s eyes swiveled down to her truck, to Jacob’s
saddle, both well beyond reach of the porch light. She tried to recall all her
justifications for taking the saddle, but in that moment all she could think
was that she should get his permission to do it. She’d known this man more than
half her life. He was kind. He was wise. He’d say yes. He’d want her to take
it.
But she said, “I’m headed out to the Kandinskys’ place.
They’ve got a horse who injured his eye, and it’s pretty bad. They let it go
too long, you know, hoping it would correct itself, maybe wouldn’t need a big
vet bill.”
“The Kandinskys have their own vet on the premises. Who
called you out?”
“It’s not one of their horses, actually. It’s Phil’s.
Remember him?” “Your friend from high school?”
“He’s been working there a year or so. They let him keep the
horse on the property. One of the perks.”
“But he can’t use their vet?”
Beth looked at her feet. “Phil’s family can’t afford their
vet. You know how that goes. We couldn’t afford him. His family doesn’t even
have pets, you know. They run a grocery store. The horse is his little sister’s
project. A 4H thing.”
“Well, tell Phil I said he called the right gal for the
job.”
“I don’t know, Jacob. It sounds really bad. These eye
things— the horse might need surgery.”
She found it unusually difficult to look at him, though she
was sure he was studying her with a suspicious stare by now. But she couldn’t
look at the truck either. Her eyes couldn’t find an object to rest on.
“All you can do is all you can do, Beth. That’ll be as true
after you’re licensed as it is now.”
“But I want to do miracles,” she said.
He chuckled at that, though she hadn’t been joking. “Don’t
we all.” He uncrossed his arms and put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to
go back inside. “I heard some big-shot Thoroughbred breeder is boarding some of
his studs there,” Jacob said. “Some friend of theirs passing through.”
“I heard that too.”
“Maybe that’ll be Phil’s miracle this time—an unexpected
guest, someone with the right know-how or the right resources who will come to
his horse’s rescue.”
“Angels unaware,” Beth said. “Something like that. Night,
Beth.”
Beth didn’t want him to go just yet. “Night.”
She lingered at the door while it closed, hoping he might
intuit what she didn’t have the courage to say.
When he didn’t, she committed to her original plan. She
descended the steps in a quiet rush, wanting to whisk the saddle away before he
could object to what he didn’t know. She wanted to be the one who did the good
works, who made the incredible rescue. She couldn’t help herself. It was her
father’s blood running through her heart.
On the driveway, her smooth-soled boots skimmed the dirt,
whispering back to her truck.
“It’s not your right to do it,” Jacob said. Beth gasped and
whirled at the sound of his voice, unexpected and loud and straight into her
ear, as if he’d been standing on her shoulder. “It’s not your gift to give.”
But the ranch house door was shut tight under the cone of
the porch light, and the bright window revealed nothing inside but heavy
furniture and cluttered tabletops. At the back of the house, a different door
closed heavily. Jacob was headed out to the bunk- house to check on Wally
already.
Beth let her captured breath leave her lungs. She looked
around for an explanation, because she didn’t want to accept that the words
might have been uttered by a guilty conscience.
At the base of the porch steps, crouching in such darkness
that its black center sank into its surroundings, was the form of an unusually
large dog. Erect ears, broad head, slender body. A wolf. She had passed that
spot so closely seconds ago that she could have reached out and stroked its
neck.
She took one step backward. Of course, her mind was dreaming
this up because Wally had suggested a wolf to her. If he hadn’t, she might have
said the silhouette had the outline of a snowman. An inverted snowman guarding
the house from her lies. In May.
Beth stared at it for several seconds, oddly unable to
recall the landscape where she’d spent her entire life. She was distressed not
to be able to say from this distance and angle whether that was a shrub planted
there, or a fence post, or an old piece of equipment that hadn’t made it back
into the supply shed. When the shape of its edges seemed to shift and shudder without
actually moving at all, she decided that her eyes were being tricked by the
darkness.
Convincing herself of this was almost as easy as justifying
her saddle theft.
She turned away from the house and hurried onward, looking back
only once.

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