Into the Fire

In between it all . . .

There are those who embrace change and hunger for a new adventure. Adventure appeals to me as long as hot water, electricity, and a flush toilet are involved. Change for the sake of change has never been my forte. However, change has been in the wind around here for some time, but it’s currently in the not available mode, confounding us with its teasing ways.

No, I know God isn’t teasing us. We’re in preparation for whatever’s next. Whenever that is. Yes, I know about the waiting game. And patience. And all that. Never been any good at them. In fact, it’s a genetic deficiency in my family to enjoy waiting. For anything. At all.

Everything right now feels non-permanent. We’ve lived in our home for almost 25 years. Loved it here. Until development encircled our little enclave and turned rural to urban. Not good for us and our horses. Our city has confounded every contract we’ve had with developers and meetings which went on for six long months came to a disappointing halt when said city voted to override every plea we and our neighbors made to them. The Mayor is promising it will work out. The developer has taken a hike until he’s convinced the Mayor’s promises are for real, and we are victims for the THIRD time of the city’s politics. Three voided contracts.

There are also some bizarre and sorrowful things going on in some of our family’s dynamic. Totally unpredictable and so out of character. Whacked for sure. And sad.

We enjoy our current church but have not plugged in like we usually do. Because it seems temporary. It’s that indefinable undercurrent one gets used to from the Spirit of God. The waiting is difficult because only ideas dangle in the distance.

In this process sometimes I look at writers and writing and shudder. Strange thing to do. It’s just that it all seems so insignificant at times. I concede it’s not, but the vanity which seeps into the profession appears more like slimy mud than confident marketing. How many times do we have to shout out about our latest projects? What about when people break and emotions blast apart like shattered shards of crystal slammed against boulders? How many novels do you read when your heart crushes against the weight of trauma? Perhaps you resort to non-fiction and bury your confusion in self-help tomes? Searching desperately for something to ease the gnawing ache in your gut or appease the blame?

Life is a beautiful thing, but it’s also cruel at times. Wicked. Ugly. Mean. The only constant is God doesn’t change. He doesn’t tell us one thing and do another. His vows get done and remain permanent while people crumble promises like the topping on a Dutch Apple Pie.

Writing can be a release. Words come out profound. Meaningful books are made. So many of us take the credit for all the hard work, perseverance, efforts. We just don’t get that it’s God. All the way. His abilities manifested in us. Allowed in us. Why must we seize the credit, snatch it away from Him? We’re an instrument He chooses to design and incorporate into His magnificent story.

Sometimes we just get carried away with ourselves.

So . . . this is the way my mind wanders this time.

Father, you are the answer. The total, all consuming answer. To all things. Work in me what is pleasing to you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

When it all goes south . . .

I wonder what that means. I mean really. South like to Antarctica? South like to Arkansas? Or south like all the way to hell?

Walk the Christian walk long enough, and things go south. Tragedy, crisis, fear, mistakes, all kinds of unholy hellish ways pop up like ducks in a shooting gallery. Seem to happen when you least expect them, too.

When the world throws the curves, we get it. Okay. We expect chaos from those who don’t know Jesus. The viewpoint is skewed, tainted by whatever sinful mode an individual looks through in their darkened virtual reality.

But when a solid Christian goes way over the edge, when the about-face kicks us directly in the teeth, we tend to lose our footing. Reeling in the aftermath. Choking down the odd sensations before the gut absorbs the tautness of the blow and regurgitates our most recent meal. What the . . .? Hell.

The behavior comes directly from hell. And we stand with our mouths limp, our voices stunted, our wind knocked out of us, leaving us gasping as we try to gain oxygen.

People can lose their faith when these things happen. Some rage at God for allowing them. Some just rage. Some refuse to acknowledge that God is good in the middle of horror. And others wonder if He is who He says He is—but not out loud.

Deception slithers like a silent snake waiting for the minimal opening to suck us into his venomous fangs. Will we believe his cunning ways and succumb to his clever schemes? It’s possible. None of us are immune from the serpent’s evil. After all, our bloodlust runs in our veins. Known as sin. The flesh covets it, desires it. Will we follow that snake?

What are you doing to protect yourself? Praying structured prayers? Praying period? Doing faithful devotions? Attending church regularly? Leading a Bible study? None are guarantees to be effective. Sin finds its way wandering through our neural pathways, lighting up synapses, delivering sensations which appeal to our bodies. Oh, the mind is a powerful thing. Arguing with Truth, justifying evil, rationalizing wrong.

If you are diligently serving the Lord, if you love Him with your whole heart, watch out. Be careful. Listen to His voice. Be sure of the Truth that brought you out of the kingdom of darkness. Stay steady in His grip. Fight off the temptations. Apart from Jesus, you can do nothing.

Except return to the flesh . . . the evil and corrupted flesh. And go south.

Father, help us to stay in you. Lord, don’t let us stray. We are desperate for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Sunday's Offerings

For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power.

I Corinthians 4:20 (NIV)

Please listen . . . and hear.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G44NCvNDLfc&feature=player_embedded

Our Lord God Almighty, please help us. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

A world gone mad . . .

Way back in 1964, if I’m not mistaken, there was a film titled “It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World”. The movie played in downtown Seattle at the brand new Cinerama Theatre which presented it on a huge screen with exceptional acoustics—everything new and outstanding in the realm of watching movies. Supposed to be a comedy, the film showcased a parade of great comedic stars/actors, and although there were multiple funny lines and a few slapstick segments, I found the movie would’ve been better served by this title: “It’s A Sad, Sad, Sad, Sad World”.

Today I find the world has indeed gone mad . . . and it is sad. And not very funny.

It seems very few people can look objectively at people or events anymore. Personally, for those in the family who are mourning the death of longtime Senator Ted Kennedy, I understand losing loved ones. There can be no denying that family members and friends experience such a heavy loss and will no doubt grieve for some time. From a distance I can sympathize with those who loved him.

But also from a distance it remains a mystery to me how he can be exalted for what he stood for in his profession and in his personal life. The documented stories of the Kennedy men, including Senator Ted Kennedy, display a complete disregard for morality and decency within a family. “Camelot”? A legendary myth in the Kennedy clan, a myth so many embraced because of Jacqueline’s soft-spoken and fashion-icon genteel ways and two adorable children in the White House.

Ted Kennedy was a lush, a hard-nosed ball-breaker (forgive me if that offends you) kind of a guy who fit right into the progressive, socialist government that is being forced down our throats. Even though he was wealthy, he decried the wealth of others, loved taxing the people to the max to support his supposed wonderful causes, none of which have worked, and the scandals which lurked in his shadow got blown out like a short match. After all: he was a Kennedy.

I don’t feel good about his acquisition of and subsequent death from a brain tumor, but it’s no more grievous nor important than that of much younger author Kristy Dykes who passed away last year from the same kind of malady. Contrary to Senator Kennedy, she lived a fruitful life exalting Jesus Christ and doing her level best to serve Him to her dying day.

Everyone dies. Most of us die outside the scrutiny of the media. But when the media decides to make an idol out of a man, the truth of that life is passed over for some fabricated and heroic homage. I imagine to many people close to him Ted Kennedy was loved for good qualities. They will remember those in their times of grief as well they should.

This mad, mad, sad, sad world chooses to worship powerful men regardless of their character. They act as though certain people somehow acquire a godlike status and are worthy of every possible positive accolade. No one can replace them in their position or office.

But in the end—if never before—we die in equality. Whether it’s a brutal death in a third world country or an exquisite death in a prestigious family, we go into the ground or are consumed with flames or we are left to rot without consideration for our passing. Such is this life in sin. Eternity waits for us all. Every corpse will have an eternity.

The sins of this life are either forgiven by request or will await eternal judgment. A prominent death of a “great” person or a serial killer reminds us that death comes to all.

Pompous people die equally to humble servants. The ways and means of death make no difference. The condition of the soul at the time of passing determines our eternal existence. We can be so cavalier about eternity. Such statements and assertions of opinions of people make no difference in the end.

Only Jesus makes a difference in the end. The same choice throughout life demands a decision. Are you for Him or against Him? Covered by his sinless Blood or contaminated in the robe of sinful flesh? We choose. And no one can choose for us.

Father, we learn the pain of grief the longer we’re allowed to remain on planet earth. You are the Author of Life. Our days are numbered. And you are no respecter of persons. Thank you, God. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

The Wicked One.

One of the problems with today’s Christian is that he/she has forgotten the enemy of their souls. We all know this place called earth and the life that pulses through us is inhibited by evil. First of all, the very blood running through our veins is stained by sin. Corruptible flesh which decays in the grave because of sin.

The objective of Christianity is to love souls because we are all equal in this sin nature. We cannot save ourselves. The Savior of the world loves us all in spite of our tainted ways, our conflicted desires to pursue what pleases this selfish contaminated body and mind.

The avid fan of this sinful state works tirelessly to see that we are blinded, tempted, induced, imbibed, and coerced into making ugly decisions to indulge this flesh. To continue to say yes to what we know is wrong, hurtful, dangerous, and evil. Demonic activity tantalizes us by mixing truth with lies. The evil one sticks with this remarkable tactic since it repeatedly works in his favor.

So I wonder how you combat the enemy of your souls . . . Do you address the dark spirits as Jesus did and as He said we should? Do you ignore every temptation traveling at light speed into your atmosphere? Do you recite structured prayers and hope for the best? Do you actively rebuke the enemy of your souls when you either sense or observe his behaviors and influences taking place before or within you?

The wicked one knows how to play the game better than we do. And of course he presents our weakest areas to us when we are at our most vulnerable. A crafty enemy. Not to be ignored or taken lightly.

And yet we all do.

Why is that? Is it because the warfare is considered whacko? Is it because it isn’t addressed from the pulpit? Is it because we have decided either consciously or not that it’s unnecessary?

The spirit realm is active always. Supernatural events happen always. The spiritual realm doesn’t take a timeout. The evil ones are like hit men. You don’t necessarily see them until the wound is inflicted. Whether or not it’s fatal depends on your dependence upon the Great One who is greater than the entire army of demons and their leader.

Who do you depend upon?

Father, you are the power and authority. Every knee will bow, every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the Glory of God. Hallelujah. Amen.

Underneath it all . . . Try Fear

For those who have truly loved and lost, either by the end of a romance or the dissolution of a marriage or in catastrophic circumstances: the death of a loved one, there can remain a fear. The hurt is so intense we never want to experience it again. It’s crushing and stifling. Sets our emotional state back to zero and sometimes staggers our spiritual state of faith. Some blame the Almighty, accusing Him of not caring, of being cruel, of hating us enough to bring this sorrow which amplifies rather than ebbs for several long . . . well, times.

Enter Ty Buchanan, ex-high powered attorney who now practices out of his “residence” and at a coffee shop. I sincerely urge you to read this series from the beginning even though James Scott Bell has somehow managed to make each book a story all its own. It’s just that to effectively know and appreciate Ty, one must savor each stage of his character development, and the best way to do this is to start with Try Dying and to follow up with Try Darkness before stepping into Try Fear. Nevertheless, Try Fear gives us the ever witty, clever, caustic, courageous, and, yes, in his own way fearful Tyler Buchanan: at his best when he serves someone he believes in or someone who will be railroaded by the system of “justice” without his help.

However, it’s best not to cross Mr. Buchanan because he does not take kindly to being used. Especially when those who use his genius in court affect the life of someone decent, respectable, and loving.

Sister Mary Veritas who serves at St. Monica’s Benedictine Community in the Santa Susana Mountains where Ty stays in a small trailer since exiting his high-falutin’ days in a respected law firm, is receiving pornographic emails from a cyber stalker. Ty fights to ignore his attraction to the Sister who has yet to decide whether or not to become a full-fledged nun and who for whatever reason—most likely her association with Ty—is on the head nun’s “bad list”. Sister Mary wears a habit when she isn’t in sweats jabbing elbows at Ty in a game of one-on-one basketball on the small court outside Ty’s trailer. Her normal dress proves quite useful when Ty takes her along to investigate the particulars of whatever case he’s working. He’s discovered she has great skills in asking questions, getting answers, and finding unique facts pertaining to his investigation.

Ty uses an entrepreneurial inventor to assist him with magic gadgets in extreme situations, and he enlists the help of the man known as B2 to find the person sending vulgar threatening emails to Sister Mary.

When Ty is able to get a client off on a technicality for driving drunk, he clashes with the talented and beautiful assistant prosecuting attorney who decides she fancies him. Ty toys with the possibility of her charm and elegance, considering how life-changing a law partnership with her might be.

When that client is found dead in his apartment, his brother is accused of murdering him. The mother of the two men reminds Ty of his own mother, and he wants to do right by her.

Try Fear captures LA and Hollywood in all their glory, buffoonery, flash, and crash aspects. Pop culture mixed with savvy lawyering and crazy characters plus a skilled and beautiful attorney, a caring and lovely Sister, Father Bob who always tries to keep the peace in Ty’s reluctant soul by offering morsels of wisdom, and underneath it all the fear of investing oneself into something real and true . . .

You do not want to miss this series. You just do not. This is smack talk, haunting and insightful writing at its best. You will love these novels. You will laugh out loud. You will weep in brief places. I have loved each book. The ending to Try Fear is as noble and heroic as the best Hollywood has to offer. James Scott Bell was born to write this series. If you can, buy all three. If Try Fear sells well, there will be another one. If not . . . a terrible loss to readers.

Father, thank you for the stunning abilities of James Scott Bell. You use his talents in multiple ways. Please watch over Jim, bless his writing with your continued insights to the fearful souls of the lost. May he always glorify you in all he does. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Once again in this case . . .

Confirming why I no longer read secular fiction, I’m reading a general market police mystery because I won an autographed copy of the novel and so thought I’d read it as a “courtesy”. You know . . . I’m not shocked or even offended at bad language, but I’m just sick of “listening” to it.

Fairly frequently on various posts around the web (currently at Novel Matters), the language question/subject goes round and round. Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. As a Christian who writes, how you choose to write your story is between you and the Lord. You can argue pro or con for profanity, vulgarity, whatever. You can claim reality insists upon it—or not. Honestly, I really don’t care what you decide. As for me, I don’t want to read the f-bomb or s-word or the vulgar sexual references. I want to know if a character swears or cusses, but I don’t want to read the specifics. I don’t mind some sexual innuendo, but when it gets graphic or uncouth, not for me. I’ve lived it, folks, and I no longer want to participate. It’s ugly.

The story is entertaining and definitely a mystery. I still don’t know who’s really killed all the people, and I’m not too far from the end. The detectives are witty, funny, and intent on getting the truth. The writer has an exceptional platform, having written a previous novel besides being a screenwriter. However, this book is certainly no better and definitely not as good as many CBA novels I’ve read with the same types of characters and stories sans the graphic profanity and vulgarity.

So once again in this case: I don’t read secular fiction because . . . where is the redemptive touch? This isn’t to say there aren’t superb novels out there in the general market. Or that there aren’t redemptive messages in novels in the general market. This is to say I’ve found enough quality in CBA to keep me occupied for quite some time.

Just my thoughts . . .

Lord God Almighty, all I want to do is honor you. I fail and keep going. Any success is your doing. All praise to you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

And into . . . The Knight

Steven James is indeed a master storyteller. By trade. By profession. By calling. And this entertaining series featuring Special Agent Patrick Bowers gives this storyteller free rein to get thoroughly involved in his stories. You might recall my review of The Pawn disclosed a complicated and perhaps too ambitious plot. The Rook focused more succinctly on a primary antagonist, and a particularly creepy one at that. Now with The Knight we have a new precise, sociopathic, and convoluted killer, who calls himself “Giovanni”, orchestrating a series of crimes which end up reflecting or duplicating the events and murders from the pages of a 15th century book which was banned by the church, coinciding with the trial of a previously apprehended serial killer who asks Patrick Bowers to lie on the stand about an altercation they had at his arrest and who claims he has found Jesus.

Mixed up with these compelling and demanding circumstances are the attraction our protagonist feels for the female detective he’s working with again, his potential break-up with Lien-hua (an FBI profiler whose life he saved), his step-daughter Tessa’s reaction to her deceased mother’s diary which she begged to read and her subsequent actions, the intricate accomplishments of a killer who is always ahead of their efforts, and the eventual discovery that Patrick’s death is the final objective of this merciless murderer.

When Patrick’s boss, a female with whom he constantly feuds because of past conflicts, sends a profiler for whom he has little respect to head up this Denver investigation, Patrick pays scant attention to the cocky antics and questionable generalities he offers about the killer.

The intense journey to find the geospatial intersection between killer and victim takes almost the entire book, but when Patrick finally connects the dots, the full-speed ahead throttles up, and what has already been advancing in a steady and creepy way, explodes into rapidly repeating discovery.

Steven James created a likable, genius-type boy/man next door character in Special Agent Patrick Bowers, the thirty-plus widower trying to raise his teenaged step-daughter who at times seems older than himself. He’s yet to recover from his wife’s death, slow to re-enter the romance mode and uncomfortable in the process. Brilliant and focused during his investigations, it’s easier for him to be involved in the mayhem than in the everyday normality of life. Disinterested in God, although his mother is a Christian woman, he fights silent rage at the cruel injustices of evil people and life in general while maintaining a true sense of ethics when the rage doesn’t overpower him.

Fascinating stories with an entertaining writing style, Steven James delivers each new addition to the Patrick Bowers’ thrillers with fresh intensity, multiple conflicts, moral decisions, horrendous antagonists, and intricate details which send the reader down many dead-ends right along with Patrick until it all clicks into place for him.

The Knight takes us almost to a satisfying conclusion and then leaves us hanging on that proverbial cliff. Summer of 2010 seems much too far away and way too long to wait for The Bishop, the next Patrick Bowers thriller.

Available August 2009 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.

Father, I would ask your continued blessing upon Steven James. You have given him unique storytelling abilities and I pray he would always use them for your glory. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Sunday's Offerings

This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven, and of which, I, Paul, have become a servant.

Colossians 1:23b (NIV)