Sunday, November 13, 2011

A Brand New Christmas Gift

Looking for that perfect and unique Christmas gift for family and friends? OK, this may not be subtle, but I am offering you a special deal on MY NEW BOOK!

Book 2 of the Living Between the Ditches series, When Christ Sets You Free, is available from the bookstore at crossbooks.com.

As a special introductory offer, I am making the book available at the author’s discount. Contact me soon and you will receive your book in time for holiday gift giving.

The new story of Parker Hamilton connects readers with favorite characters from Book 1, When God Makes No Sense, without confusing readers who have not read it. Preview the Prologue below.

Prologue

Parker Sloan Hamilton waited outside the Orlando bus station. He had
been released from prison 128 minutes ago and already felt the insecurity of
freedom. The overcast sky and threatening rain dampened what should have
been a joyful occasion.

In his mind he had pictured this day full of sunshine with a blue sky
and fluffy clouds. A circle of family and friends would meet him, with Gram
Sloan leading the way. After a round of hugs, they would whisk him away to
a new life. All that would be missing was a brass band playing “Glory, Glory,
Hallelujah.”

But no one was here. Not even the couple that ran the halfway house to
which he’d been mandated for supervised release.
Parker shuffled his feet and thought. He had the clothes on his back—the
ones he had worn in to prison that cold December day almost two years ago.
He had a small collection of bills—his entire savings from money he hadn’t
spent at the prison commissary. He could make a call inside the bus station.
But who would he call?

He had the phone number of that couple somewhere in a pocket. They
obviously weren’t going to show. Story of his life. Chaplain Jake Thomas had
told him one source of help was available 24/7. Parker had come to depend
heavily on that source and had never yet received a busy signal.
Parker was in the process of bowing his head when an older Ford sedan
rounded the corner and pulled up beside him. “Hey,” an African-American
giant of a fellow hollered. “You Parker?”

One of the fastest answers to a prayer not yet prayed, Parker thought.
“Yeah, I’m Parker.” He climbed into the car and sped away with someone
he’d never met.

*******

The passengers rode in silence for several minutes as the car wound through
traffic and merged onto the interstate. Parker felt a cold sweat cover his body
as he gripped the seat cushion. Slow down, he thought. All I need is to be
stopped by the cops.

Once in the flow of traffic, Parker felt his heart rate go down and his
breathing normalize. He hadn’t been in a car in two years. Maybe he was a
little edgy. His gaze turned to his seatmate. The burly man returned his glance
and spoke in a surprisingly gentle voice. “How’re you doin’, man?”

“Good,” Parker lied a little.

“My name’s Xander. But you can call me anything if it’s dinner time.” He
laughed heartily at his own joke.

“I’m Parker. Parker Hamilton. But then, you knew that.”


“Not too many guys named Parker hangin’ around outside a bus station.”
Again he laughed. Parker eased back a bit into his seat.

“I know you expected Mr. Connor to pick you up, but he had to go to the
hospital,” Xander continued.

Parker’s eyebrows shot up.

“Seems Miss Amber showed up unexpectedly.”

Parker’s imagination was in full gear. Who was Miss Amber? A jilted
girlfriend of a resident at the halfway house? Had a brawl broken out? Was it
serious enough to send someone to the hospital?

“Sorry to hear that,” Parker mumbled, fear creeping back up his spine.
Xander looked puzzled, then laughed again. “No, man, you got it wrong.
You see, Mr. Connor’s wife, Mrs. Megan, she just had her daughter this
morning—named her Amber Alise. I got to visit them on the way to get you.
My, my, my! Curly black hair, just like her Mom. They goin’ to have to lock
that child up when she’s a teenager,” Xander chuckled.

“I didn’t know Mrs. Megan was expecting.” Parker felt a little foolish.

“She sure wasn’t expectin’ three weeks early! Man, I been up since 4 a.m.
The whole place was buzzin’. Nobody was prepared to welcome Miss Amber
yet. Her grandma won’t get here until day after tomorrow. So, I’m kind of
in charge of the place for a while. You’re goin’ to have to eat my cookin’ this
week,” Xander grinned.

Parker wanted to be annoyed by the man’s humor. He certainly didn’t
share his jovial mood. However, Xander’s easy, relaxed manner had a calming
effect. Maybe this new place would be halfway decent.
Parker caught himself grinning at his pun. Halfway decent. What more
could a guy expect from a halfway house?

*******

Xander pulled off the highway and wound through several major intersections
before turning into an older neighborhood of Orlando. Large leafy trees and
well-kept lawns, newly painted exteriors and an occasional renovated home
told the story of a once inner city neighborhood revitalized by new families
moving into the area.

Xander pulled into the driveway of a white, shingled two storied house with
green shutters. Parker could see a light on in an upstairs window. “We’re here,”
Xander announced as he turned off the motor. As Parker fiddled with his seat
belt, Xander loped through a light rain to the front door and had it unlocked
before Parker was out of the car.

“Come on in,” Xander said. “We’ ll get you outfitted with some clothes
and stuff .” He took Parker through a large living and dining area, past the
kitchen, and into a storage area where shelves were filled with men’s clothing,
sized and neatly stacked, along with toiletries, tennis shoes, and rolled socks.
Parker immediately went to work finding his sizes and putting items into a
cardboard box Xander provided.

“Get what you need for the next few days,” he said as he headed for the
kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. You best be on time. It’s one
of the rules around here. The guy upstairs will show you your space.”

Parker finished filling his box, grabbing several extra containers of
shampoo, deodorant, and toothpaste in case his fellow residents lived by the
prison rule, “What’s yours is mine, and I’ll take it.” He found a back stairwell
to the second floor. At the top of the steps, he stopped and took a breath. He
wasn’t exactly looking forward to sharing space with anyone, much less former
inmates. Not that he could talk.

Chaplain Jake, who had recommended this place, was certain Parker would
fit in. Residents had to fill out an application and meet specific requirements:
participation in chapel worship services and Bible study groups, completion of
the prison’s drug rehabilitation program and/or therapeutic support groups,
job skill training classes or a prison job, reasonably clean disciplinary record,
and—most of all—a desire for a new and different kind of lifestyle.

Parker had a coveted spot, he knew. Several of his friends from the prison
chapel were waiting for just such an opportunity. He had to make the most of
these next six months. Slowly he pushed open the door to the second floor—the
door to his new future.
*******

Find out how Parker’s story will help you discover how to experience freedom in Christ as a lifestyle. Order now to receive your book in time for Christmas!

Friday, October 21, 2011

Zombies? Bring 'Em On!

My father was a year-round prankster, but at Halloween he really got weird! I never personally saw this, but my Mom swore that one year Dad climbed on our roof, draped himself in a sheet, and scared to death little "trick or treaters" who came to the door for candy. He would jump out from the chimney and shout "whooa" as they screamed and ran from the doorway. Dad got to keep a lot more candy that way, but I suspect he did it because he loved playing pranks.

Americans spend millions of dollars on Halloween costumes and parties. We more or less take for granted the skeletons and scary masks in store windows at this time of year. Last year at Halloween I was in Germany on a mission trip. Germany is just beginning to experience something like the American Halloween tradition. I took a picture of a Halloween carnival advertisement, which the Germans I talked to found distasteful. I imagine Halloween will catch on there and across Europe as it gives an excuse for devilish behavior.

I'm not against Halloween (little kids dressing up and collecting candy), but I do find it paradoxical that our enlightened American media and entertainment world disavows any need for a God to counterbalance evil in this world and yet finds itself fascinated by zombies. Zombies are everywhere, along with vampires and witches. Why are these personifications of evil so interesting to us when any notion of sinful behavior has been wiped away by the "intolerant of intolerance" crowd? To call something "bad" is to be a bigot or worse. How then, can there be a force of evil?

If there is evil(as Hollywood seems to insist), there must also be good. Otherwise, how would we recognize evil? The Bible teaches that only God is good. He alone holds back the forces of evil in the world. Without His mighty power, we would be overcome by the "prince of darkness" and his minions. Picture a fourth, fifth or sixth dimension which we can't see filled with battle scenes pitting the forces of good against the forces of evil (see 2 Thess. 2: 7-12). Ah, but believers know how this story ends. The good guys win!

"But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one" (2 Thess. 3:3)." Believers, take heart this Halloween! The one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world (1 Jn.4:4).

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Tripped Up and Sitting on My Soul

I ran through the Philadelphia airport, sprinting after a purse-snatcher. I finally got close enough to tackle him. We wrestled to the ground, and then a searing pain roared at me from my right pelvis. The cops got their man, and I got wheeled onto an airplane bound for Nashville.

At least, that's how the story should have read. All my co-workers agree it makes for a better, more exciting account than the simple truth: I tripped over an untied shoelace and fell over my own feet. The date was August 7, 2011. I have a fractured right sacrum and a slow healing process, which leaves lots of time for reflection.

Did you know that the word sacrum comes from the same root as "sacred"? The sacrum was thought to be the "seat of the soul." I guess all these years, I've been sitting on my soul!

As the Bible has been translated into language groups around the world, the soul has changed locations in the human body. Although some people think of it as found in the stomach and the intestines, most Westerners tend to identify its location with the heart (at least metaphorically). I've often wondered how un-churched individuals react the first time some well-meaning Christian asks them to accept Christ "into your heart." How does Jesus get in? Does He live in the right or left ventricle? Can an MRI pick Him up?

Of course, we evangelicals don't mean Jesus literally comes to live in our hearts. It's much more comprehensive than that! When someone asks Jesus to be Savior and Lord, He takes over "kit and caboodle." One of the earliest Christian identifiers was the statement, "Jesus is Lord." That's the equivalent of owner, Master—the one who calls the shots. Think about the implications the next time you say, "Yes, I've invited Jesus 'into my heart.'"

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Freedom: Independence Day?

Freedom is somewhat like oxygen. We don’t miss it unless we don’t have it.

Those of us celebrating the July 4th weekend in America have always had a relatively "free" life. However, even with the protections of the Constitution, we are not completely free to do as we please. (You can't cry "fire" in a crowded theater, for example.) But if you're interested in total personal freedom, I have an idea for you.

Did you know you could become the head of your own government and establish or eliminate any laws you please? It’s true. Simply live on a boat in international waters. Of course, you’ll have to provide your own drinking water, food, and so on. But you get to be in charge.

Wonder what it would be like to live in a place without rules and regulations? Most people understand that when we choose personal freedom, we lose the “perks” of a well-ordered society— a trade-off if one’s goal is liberty from man-made laws. But what about God’s laws? Are they in effect even in international waters?

That's one of the issues I'm pursuing in my second book, due out before Christmas, 2011. The idea of freedom in Christ vs. living in obedience to our Lord fascinates me. Are we free in Christ? If so, what does that freedom look like? Sometimes our freedom seems quite limited by life circumstances.

In March, following a vicious attack by two dogs, my Maltese poodle named Lily had to wear a cone-like plastic hood. This “party hat,” as my vet likes to call it, kept Lily from chewing her stitches, but it also limited her favorite activity—gnawing on a rawhide bone perched between her two front paws. From behind the hood, Lily's pleading eyes looked at me as though I were a monster.

“Just for another week,” I explained to Lily, scratching her ears and expecting her to understand. Forlorn and defeated, Lily rested her chin on the plastic prison. Even if she had understood, a week was a lifetime to a 15-month-old puppy.

When God's plan involves curtailing our activities—whether through difficulties of health or finances or family relationships—we must look at Him like Lily looked at me. We don't see His grand design for our lives, or something He's trying to teach us, or the necessity of His having to call a halt to our plans.

God’s plan from the beginning of time was to free humankind from prisons of self, sin, and the law. A perfect sacrifice—the incarnate God-man—would pay the eternal consequences of our human condition. That's the best kind of freedom we could ever want. And it's available to everyone, everywhere. Happy "independence day" for all who are "dependent" on God.

Friday, May 20, 2011

The Biggest Adventure

Infidelity has been in the news a lot lately. Whether the person is in politics, business, or entertainment, commentators like to ask, What difference does it make—except to the family. If I had a genius investing my money, why would I care if he were cheating on his wife?

This response makes me scratch my head. If a person would "cheat" the mate he or she claimed to love more than anyone in the world—in effect, lead a double life—why would I trust him with my money? I've never quite understood that logic.

In addition, as a former counselor of eight years, I was trained to think that a person's public persona should match his or her private persona. It was called having an integrated psyche—being a whole, as opposed to a fragmented, personality. I suppose holistic or integrated personality systems are out-of-style now.

Another excuse pundits offer for infidelity goes like this: a person who has reached a certain pinnacle of success in a chosen field is bound to be a risk-taker. Why should the public expect anything less than risky behavior? These people crave adventure, excitement, the thrill of the chase.

I'm so glad my son Scott doesn't use this theory with his two-year-old son. Nathan loves to climb and jump. His mean 'ole Daddy puts restrictions on Nathan's adventurous, thrill-seeking behavior. Some objects are just off limits for climbing or jumping. Scott believes in setting boundaries while encouraging appropriate risk-taking. No adult should take risks without counting the costs.

I touch on this theme in my book, Living Between the Ditches: When God Makes No Sense. Layton, the main character is terribly hurt by the sting of his ex-wife's infidelity and doesn't know how to move past it. If you've read the book, you know the way the story progresses and the surprise Layton has in store.

Let me leave you with a thought from Bill Gothard: A gambler is a person of great faith. His or her faith is simply in the wrong object. Put your faith in God, and you will live the biggest adventure your mind can imagine. Your jack pot will last into eternity!

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Going the Distance

Today I set back Eqyptian-American relationships by about two centuries. I was leaving my doctor's office and heading to my car when an Arab couple with a small child stopped me on the sidewalk to ask directions. They spoke very little English. I did make out that they had taken a bus to that location.

But they had a mapquest map with directions to where they were going. Nowhere did the sheet list the name of the place they were going—just the address. I asked what kind of business it was, and they could not tell me. Undaunted, I escorted them to my car and told them I would take them there. Showing great faith,they got in. (I had no car seat for the little girl. Surely, God would protect us!)

If you don't know Nashville, you would assume this address would be easy to find. However, it was right smack dab in the middle of the Baptist Hospital complex, which has grown like Topsy over the years. The street they were looking for dead-ends at the Baptist complex and then resumes. But, then, who knew?

After about 15 minutes of driving around, the man finally asked to be let out of my car. I knew I could not leave them where I had found them, so despite his protests—and by now having discovered the problem—I soldiered on. We came to a doctor's office building with the long-sought-after address, and I let them out. I don't know which of us was more grateful!

Finding your way in a city full of dead-ins reminds me of the many dead-ends on the narrow way to God's house. Short-lived pleasure, sinful habits, procrastination, bitterness, unforgiveness—the list goes on. Fortunately, we have a mapquest to heaven. It's printed in the Bible in John chapter 3 verse 16. And we have the Holy Spirit to guide us the distance. Thank you, Lord, for providing the Way!

Saturday, February 26, 2011

The Most Important Thing in Life

"The most important thing in life is knowing God better." So said theologian and author Dr. Selwyn Hughes in his daily devotional booklet "Every Day with Jesus:The Character of God." Dr. Hughes, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at his home in Farnham, England, does more than make the statement. He explains why it is true. "If God is not our primary focus, then everything else will soon get out of focus."

Does his response sound churchey? Something you'd expect a devotional writer to say? But wait! He gets to the heart of the issue in his booklet's Introduction. "When given permission to dominate our thoughts, our personal matters become impossible to satisfy. We could speak of them all day long and never tire of their finest details." We become man-centered and not God-centered.

Yet when you read the Bible, the first words are "In the beginning God ... " The Bible is HIStory. It's about God seeking man, not man seeking God. It's message is not how to get to God but how God came to us! When we put ourselves first and God second, we become entrenched in our own self-absorbed, self-referenced lifestyle. And we lose focus.

Today I was on an airplane. I saw the tiny dots on planet Earth that we call houses, inhabited by even smaller people. Above it all, I witnessed their scurrying about in miniscule cars like rats in a maze of interstates and highways. How could any of them think the world revolved around them, yet the moment I landed, I lost my heavenly perspective. Life once again was all about me. I lost focus.

Surely, God watches every sparrow fall and counts the number of our hairs. We are not unimportant, but we are not all-important. If we are to know God, we must study His character. I tried to strike this theme in my book, Living Between the Ditches: When God Doesn't Make Sense. We can know God. God is mystery. By embracing both truths, we keep from living in the ditches of a self-focused life.