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A Great Find!
3/5/2010 9:17:46 AM
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| Last night I went to my writer's meeting where our group facilitator, Mark Littleton, just happened to have a copy of one of his devotionals, Get A Clue, on hand, so I snatched it up (made him sign it, of course!) for well under the Amazon price. This devotional Bible designed to capture the attention of mystery-loving tweens is sure to be a hit with our twelve year old daughter who is just finishing the One Year Book of Devotions for Girl's, a fun and yet theologically sound book that has managed to draw her to her Bible every morning, and sometimes even twice a day. (Please note, it does address dating and sex on the day of April eleven, and although this is done in a biblically sound way emphasizing the need for purity, parental caution is recommended.) Although I've only had time to glance through the pages, I am confident that Mark LIttleton's devotional will be able to sustain the interest previous devotions have sparked in our daughter. |
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Love covers a multitude of sins
3/2/2010 9:50:19 AM
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| Last night when I went to the gym, I placed my gym bag, which had my car keys, a small wad of cash and an extra pair of headphones tucked into the side pocket, in an unlocked locker and then headed to an exercise bike, completely oblivious to the fact that thieves had been canvassing our local Y. When I returned about an hour and a half later, everything had been taken. Afraid that whoever had stolen my stash had taken off with our van, I hurried out into the 38 degree weather, to find, much to my relief, that my dirty, dented mini-van was still there. I'm sure the fact that the batteries on our keys are so near dead you have to stand directly in front of the van to hear it beep helped. But a van without keys does little good on a cold, dark night when the rest of your family is home anxiously awaiting dinner. After searching every nook and cranny in the locker room and the exercise area, I finally tucked my tail between my legs and made the phone call I dreaded to make--the one that asked my husband who had just finished a twelve hour shift followed by an intense work out of his own to get back in the car and waste what little time of relaxation he would have to give me a ride home. But as I sat in the YMCA lobby waiting for him to get there, the reality of the situation hit me. Yeah, my car was there, but someone else now had my keys, and would very likely return for the van later that night after the Y was closed and everyone else had gone home. This left me with two options: get the car towed or find a locksmith who could somehow unlock electronic locks with computer chips. By now my husband had returned with his cell phone and a very thick phone book, but as we began to go through the long list of locksmiths, most of whom didn't answer their phones at seven o'clock on a Monday night, we began to reconsider our first option--that of getting the car towed. But of course, this would only delay the inevitable, and would also very likely add a couple of hundred dollars to our total bill. Fortunately, about ten phone calls later, my husband finally got a hold of someone, and apparently, the only person in our city who could reprogram the computer chip that would allow our car to start. But there was a problem--a big problem. He couldn't get to us until after nine thirty. So here we were, sitting in a dark, cold parking lot watching our van in case the thief returned and tried to steal it, absolutely starving, and very tired. And with my husband needing to be at work by four am the next morning, this was well past his bedtime. Under the circumstances, had it been me, I am sure I would have had many "constructive" things to say, like, "So, are you going to lock your stuff up next time?" or, "Didn't you know about all the thefts that have occurred lately?", but not my husband. In fact, he didn't say a word. Not even when the locksmith told him it was going to be $250's to unlock our van and make two new keys. Sitting there apologizing profusely only to be told again and again, without any hint of anger or resentment, "It's no big deal," I finally asked him, "Why aren't you mad?" To which he replied, matter-of-factly, "Because I love you." This baffled me. "So," I said, "You can love me and still be mad." But he just shook his head and told me again that he loved me. Somehow, his love for me covered my carelessness, our financial loss and the wasted time. And as I thought about the grace my husband had offered because of his love for me, I was reminded of a verse in 1 Peter 4:8 "Above all else, love each other deeply because love covers over a multitude of sins." Last night, my husband showed me what that verse truly means, and also gave me a tiny glimpse of the love of my Savior--a love that somehow overlooks my selfishness, my sinfulness and my carelessness and does not treat me with the judgment that I deserve but instead, looks at me and says, "Your sins are forgiven, because I love you. And my love covers a multitude of sins." |
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April 3rd Book signing in Emporia
2/17/2010 7:21:05 PM
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| I will be at the Town Crier Bookstore in Emporia, Kansas on April third. I would love to meet all of you who have sent emails, read my blog and have purchased my books. Two other authors will be joining me. Should be a lot of fun! |
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the natural man
2/16/2010 10:54:13 AM
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| As I have mentioned previously, I am taking classes at Calvary Bible college, and I must admit, the more I learn, the more I realize I need to learn and the more I realize how little I really know of what I thought I knew! One of my classes is called apologetics, and to be honest, I thought this class was going to be a breeze! After all, I spend most of my time (and have for years) reading various apologetic articles, writing stories with an apologetics focus and discussing what I have learned with agnostics, atheists and pagans, but quite honestly, it is anything but easy! Not only is the material complicated and inclusive (covering everything from existentialism to empiricism), but it often challenges me to totally rethink my entire view on apologetics and evangelism. Now, don't get me wrong. I will always love science, history, archeology, in depth Bible study and seeing God's Word confirmed in the world around us, but I am beginning to see how difficult it is to present these same truths--the truths that fill my heart with praise and adoration towards my Creator--to those who have been blinded by sin. How can we possibly expect natural man (or woman) to understand spiritual things when the Bible tells us that they rebel against these very things? And then there's Satan, the liar and thief, who is working night and day to steal away any nugget of truth that may be lingering in the unbeliever's heart. Is it any surprise, then, that argument after argument and evidence after evidence is suppressed, denied and fought against? And yet, if natural man's very nature rebels against the only truth that can lead him to salvation and sound thinking, is there any hope that he can be saved? Praise God, through His power, man can be saved, but not through carefully planned arguments, sound philosophical dissertations and well-documented "proofs". When we are talking with non-believers, we need to recognize that they are incapable of understanding most of what we say, and what they do understand, they rebel against. Therefore, we should not be surprised when our logical and verifiable arguments are met with hostility and skepticism. This only reveals their deep need for grace, and it is only by God's grace that any of us can come to Him. This doesn't mean that we should quit having rational conversations with our unbelieving friends, but it does mean that all of our conversations should be seasoned with grace--God's grace. Human words are intriguing, and perhaps even persuading, but they lack the life-changing power of the living Word of God. To be truly effective, we must use human words and arguments as points of contact that enable us to present the gospel and not as ends in and of themselves. But how can this be done? According to the articles I read today by John Whitcomb and David Turner, our efforts will be most effective when we recognize not only man's fallen state, but their created state as well. Man is an image-bearer, a created being with a divine purpose and a God-given desire to both know his Creator and his purpose for life. Romans 1:20-23 tells us that all men have a knowledge of God. Those who deny this do this willfully. They may claim to be atheists, or agnostics, but according to Romans chapter one, atheism is a falsehood, a self-deception and a denial of inner truth. No matter how strongly the atheist suppresses this truth, it is there, constantly eating away at his heart, drawing him toward his Creator. By focusing on the arguments, could we be distracting the listener from that still small voice, that gentle tug and that deep longing, that God instilled within him to bring him to salvation? What if, once the listener's curiosity was peaked, we used our initial discussion of "proofs" to create an opening to the gospel--a gospel that was presented using the very Words that God has provided? |
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my morning with seventh graders
2/11/2010 9:18:56 AM
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| Yesterday I spent the morning talking about natural selection and mutations with the seventh graders and we had a great time looking at the statistical improbability of evolution. The students really seemed to enjoy the animal activity that I took from the chapter called: Exposing the Family Tree from my Shatterproof: Developing a Faith that Stands Curriculum. (Although this curriculum is advertised as a Sunday school curriculum, it is also a wonderful, short yet informative unit study on some of the major evolutionary theories.) I was pleased with how much they understood and how clearly they were able to see the issues involved. If only we could teach all of our children to understand the difference between facts and assumptions, I think there would be a lot less confusion. We began by talking about mutations in general: what they can and can't do, how often they occur and what would need to happen in order for ameoba to man evolution to occur, and then we looked at the statistical numbers presented by scientists at Answers in Genesis. We also did a fun activity on natural selection after which I explained that natural selection can only select from the information that is already present or available, and perhaps even more importantly, natural selection only works at the animal level, not at the gene level. All in all, it was a lot of fun. |
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But I can't help it!
1/27/2010 8:50:00 AM
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| Lately I have been unpleasantly surprised by my selfishness. I say I want to be a servant, and outside of the home, I may even put that desire into action, but somehow the minute I walk through the doors of my home, my "How can I help you" quickly turns into, "But you're closer! Get it yourself!" So this has been my prayer, that my love for Jesus would shine through in everything I do and that those who are closest to me, my husband and daughter, would see a tangible expression of that love. And so begins my mantra: "Lord, give me a servant's heart and help me to be more loving with my family." And then I move on, as if awaiting some miraculous touch of God that will suddenly overpower me and transform both my heart and my mind to the point that I am an overflowing vessel of love and sacrifice. Oh, how easy it is to pass the buck! Until God calls me to the table and cuts straight to the chase, letting me know that He does not buy my silly little "I can't help it!" excuses. That's exactly what happened to me last night as I was reading Luke 17 to our daughter. (Luke 17:1-10) In this passage, Jesus is talking about sin. He begins by saying, "The things that cause people to sin are bound to come." Basically, we don't live in a bubble. We will face temptations in numerous ways from numerous angles, often when we least expect it. But does that mean that we can just throw our hands in the air and say, "Well, I can't help it! If he hadn't...then I wouldn't have..." Read the passage again. (Luke 17:1-10) Although it can be tempting to "cherry pick" our verses and make the verses say what we want them to say, to truly understand a message, it is important to read the verse in context. Why does Jesus go from talking about the things that cause people to sin to talking about forgiving someone who offends us? I am not sure, but I know for me, most of my sinful behaviors come from self-justification and self-preservation. (Notice also Ephesians 4:26 and Psalm 4:4) So here Jesus is talking about sin, and about the need to forgive, and how do the disciples respond? Much like I have a tendency to: "But I can't help it!" or, more accurately, "Increase our faith", as if they lacked the ability to do as Jesus required. And how did Jesus respond? To put it simply, He told them that they already had all the faith they needed. (Luke 17:6) And as I read these words, I realized that they applied to me as well. As a follower of Christ filled with the Holy Spirit, I have all the power and self-control necessary to overcome my circumstances and respond in ways that honor God. So when I do what is expected, when I selflessly give up the very last brownie (ouch!) or get out of bed to take our puppy potty in the middle of the night, have I become some kind of spiritual super hero that deserves some kind of reward? Notice what Jesus says in the very next verse: Luke 17:7-10 "Suppose one of you had a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Would he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, 'Come along now and sit down to eat'? Would he not rather say, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink.' Would he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.'" |
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When light and darkness meet
1/20/2010 7:39:33 AM
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This morning I received a phone call that both opened my eyes and broke my heart, and this call wasn’t unique. Sometimes I feel like there is pain, abuse and darkness everywhere I look. People are dying in Haiti, teenagers are living on the streets, many children are growing up in atrocious homes, and millions upon millions are starving to death. And at times, I can get so caught up in the pain, that it sort of paralyses me, but it is at those times that I need to remember that this has nothing to do with me. God did not call me to change the world. He called me to surrender to Him and to let Him change the world through me. So here I was driving my daughter to school having just had this gut-wrenching conversation with a dear woman in Christ who feels like she is fighting an uphill battle, when something I heard on the radio caught my attention. If you listen to KLOVE, it is quite likely you have heard this story. It is about the Christian band Blue Tree. Apparently Blue Tree was in Thailand for some concert, and while they were there, they wanted to tour the city. It wasn’t long before they ended up in what has been termed “one of the darkest places in the world.” Having spent the previous weekend in downtown Chicago, I can tell you from experience, had it been me, I would have quickly ran for cover. After all, that’s what I do. When I see darkness, I run as fast as I can, back to my nice little hotel room or comfy little house. Sure, maybe I’ll write a blog or two about what I’ve seen, but that’s about as far as my outreach goes. But not Blue Tree. They stayed. They dove in. Apparently, in this city there was a bar that allowed customers to sing. I suppose it was similar to our karaoke bars. So long as you kept buying sodas, you could continue singing all night long. And that is exactly what Blue Tree did. They sang songs of praise and drank more sodas and then sang some more. And then something amazing happened. To hear Kelly from KLOVE tell it, there they were praising God surrounded by total darkness, when suddenly God’s light burst forth and a new song, a song they had never heard before, began to pour out, as if from heaven itself. The song was “You’re the God of This City.” Through Blue Tree, God spoke deep into the hearts of these broken individuals in a way that only He can. So this got me thinking. Most of the time, it seems, I run around like a chicken with my head cut off, acting as if I, Jennifer Slattery, have to change the world. And quite often, I’ll come up with some magnificent plan of just how I’m going to do that, but usually my well-planned efforts end in failure. Why? Because I am going about it the wrong way. No amount of human wisdom can deal with a problem so gigantic. But God has a plan. A perfect plan. If I stay focused on “my solutions”, it is likely I will never hear His plan, yet, if I get out of the way, and focus on Jesus Christ, the giver of light, everything changes. Suddenly, God’s power is unleashed and His light breaks forth in all its glory. And when light comes in, darkness flees. In John 15, Jesus tells us to abide with Him—to spend time with Him, to connect with Him, to give Him every part of our being. Why? So that we bear much fruit. Not because we are laboring to produce it, but because we are connected to the life-giving vine that pumps sweet, nourishing juices to our otherwise dehydrated hearts. |
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Random babble
1/14/2010 2:41:19 PM
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| Looking through some of my old posts, I realize how inconsistent I have been with this blog. Initially, it seems like I was posting weekly, if not more. And now...it has been nearly a month since my last real post. OK, so maybe I have a valid excuse, considering I was sick for most of November--started with what I am sure was the swine flu that knocked me on my behind for TWO WEEKS, then I got some inner ear virus--never knew you could get such a thing. I felt like I was on some kind of perpetual merry-go-round. Everyone told me I had an inner ear infection, and that sounded plausible, considering the amount of time I spend in the pool, so I went to the doctor, only to be told $70.50 (doctor bill) later that it was nothing more than a virus. Aargh! Of course, I didn't hoard my joy. Being the generous lady that I am, I made sure to share my little treasure with my daughter and husband. Then there was Christmas, and I would love to use the excuse that I was terribly busy during the holidays and just didn't have time to update my blog, but truth be told, my daughter was off from school and her and I just hung out. And were lazy. And snuggled. And talked. And went shopping--she had her own money to spend, which meant going into various stores, trying on lots of "maybe's", only to turn around and walk out. Getting my daughter to spend a buck is like pulling teeth from a crocodile! Not that that's a bad thing. And now, I would like to say that I will be more consistent, but I have started seminary classes (and am really enjoying them by the way), have begun a new novel (that seems to occupy much of my attention--in a good way), and am about to go on another trip to celebrate my mother-in-laws seventyth birthday. (Apparently, my sister-in-law has some two day scavenger hunt planned for us once we get to Chicago. should be interesting.) Well, there's always February.  |
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Immanuel
12/20/2009 6:54:06 AM
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Immanuel...God with us...the Creator of the universe taking up permanent residence in a human heart. So then why do I live like Moses, hidden behind a veil of self-doubt, insecurities and fears?
I don't know if you're like me, but oftentimes when I look at some of the giants in our faith (Beth Moore, the ladies from the Proverbs 31 Ministries, Francis Chain, ect) I can't help but feel insignificant, ill-equipped and to be honest, downright embarrassed that little old Jennifer Slattery, a silly house wife from Missouri, would even consider stepping out of her nice safe little home and venturing out into the big wide world. I mean, really, who do I think I am? Ah, but that is not the point, is it? My service to God has absolutely nothing to do with who I am. As I was reading 2 Corinthians 3:4-18 this morning, a rather comical image came to mind. It's of an artist sitting on her balcony set perhaps ten stories up staring out at the beautiful white-capped waves of an open sea. And as she sits, she is drawn to the simple beauty of the glimmering morning sun as it dances upon the rhythmically moving water, but even more, she is drawn to the images that fill her mind...perhaps she will add a few white fluffy clouds just off to the left, and maybe she will create a beautiful rainbow that will be nearly hidden behind an island filled with lush green trees. And so, already envisioning the beautiful portrait she is about to create, she begins. Setting a jar of water next to her, she carefully selects her colors: A deep red mixed with a few drops of white to soften its hue, a blue so vibrant it looks like it dripped straight from heaven, a green the color of her daughter's eyes. Yes, it will be beautiful. It will be just as she had planned. She lays her brushes upon the table beside her. She has twelve in all, each one different, and yet, each one has been carefully selected for the task. Running her fingers along the chipped wood, she chooses a small, thin brush with thin, somewhat frayed, bristles. Perhaps other artists would have tossed this one out. It certainly had seen its fair share of paintings, but the rough and frayed texture was just what the artist was looking for because no other brush could create the rich, dancing leaves that this one could. And so, carefully, gingerly, she picks the utensil up, already planning on her first stroke, but before she can dip the thin bristles into the paint, the brush begins to tremble. "What are you doing?" the brush asks, shrinking back in fright. He looks at the empty canvas lying on the table and his mind rages with thoughts of towering mountains and glistening water falls. Who does he think he is, to participate in the master's painting? Surely the artist should choose someone else, someone sleeker, newer, more sophisticated. He glances over at a shiny new brush with a mahogany handle. Yes, that is the kind of brush that artists use to make paintings. And yet, the artist continues, dipping the frayed bristles into the paint with such assurance, the sad little brush begins to submit to the artist's hand. And as the artist's steady hand works, moving the brush across the page in short, delicate, yet sure, movements, the brush begins to relax because he realizes that the beauty of the painting has nothing to do with him. The beauty of the painting lies in the mind of the creator. Isn't this what 2 Corinthians 3 is telling us? I mean, seriously, I have the living God, Immanuel, God with us, living inside of me, wanting to shine His glory in and through me, and yet here I am hiding behind a veil. |
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The Jagged Edge of Broken Glass is now available
12/19/2009 1:32:09 PM
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| I know many of you have anxiously been awaiting the publication of my latest novel, the Jagged Edge of Broken Glass. Well, wait no more! Jagged is finally here! Check it out on Amazon now. |
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I want to be a Mary
12/4/2009 9:07:17 AM
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Either I am hard-headed or a slow-learning or both, but God seems to be telling me the same thing over and over. It started on Sunday. We are in the process of changing churches. Already dreading the blinding blizzards that will soon be upon us, we are hoping to find a church that is closer than the one we attend now, so we have begun our search. This past Sunday we went to an intimate, and somewhat quiet, evening service that was being held less than five miles from where we live, and each one of us were touched by the loving atmosphere, the great teaching and the simple yet heartfelt worship. But as I left this small little body of believers, I was much more than touched. I was challenged to view myself, my life and my relationship with the Lord differently. The message was on Mary, and although I have heard countless sermons talking about the struggles Mary would have faced carrying God’s Son at such a young age, I don’t think the primary truth of this portion of the gospel really registered. I mean, I felt compassion for this poor young lady, to be sure, knowing how humiliating it would have been to have been treated like a scarlet and how painful it would have been to know that your Son, the child that warmed you from the inside out and had become such a part of you life without Him was unimaginable, would one day be nailed to a tree for sins He had never committed, but this story of heartbreak, insecurity and fear, I believe, is meant to penetrate past my empathetic emotions and deep into my inner resolve where choices are made. This past Sunday as the pastor read the words recorded in the very first chapter of Luke, Mary’s reply in Luke 1:38 spoke volumes! Here Mary’s entire life was about to change. Raising God’s Son? Wow, what a responsibility! And she wasn’t even married! We all know what could happen to unwed mothers back in the first century! If it had been me, I would have fired a long list of questions, after a rather lengthy heartfelt complaint about how hard and unfair the task was, and I probably would have even spent a fair amount of time begging God to choose someone else—someone older, richer, more experienced…already married. But Mary didn’t do any of that. All she did was obey. No questions asked. No bartering. She didn’t ask for any explanations, time-frames or guarantees. She just obeyed, not because she expected something in return…but because she viewed herself as a servant. God’s servant. She was here for God, not the other way around. As I said, this got me thinking…for awhile. But, as is usually the case, by the next day I forgot my fervent prayer I had made that night asking God to give me a servant’s heart that would be able to speak those words, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word,” that Mary had spoken some 2,000 years ago and was once again looking for ways that God could bless me. “Lord, please….” and “help me…” and “If only…” But luckily, God wasn’t going to let me retreat to my self-centered state for long, and on Monday, as I read Numbers 9:15-23, I was once again reminded of what obedience really meant.
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can you hear them?
11/22/2009 7:07:50 AM
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Normally, I don’t post anything on my blog on Sunday’s, but as I was listening to this song this morning, my heart felt like it was about to break and for me, when my heart is moved, my fingers move as well. What really gets me about this song is the portion that talks about the man in prison. As this man is confessing all he has done, God responds by saying that He knows all that. He knows that this guy is a murderer and liar, but He also knows what has led this man to that point. Everyone starts out as that adorable, precious, fragile little infant that longs to be held, nurtured and loved. Some of us received that love when we were young, and knew a life of safety. Others grew up in fear. Some of us fell asleep in our mother’s arms, others fell asleep isolated and alone. And for those of us who were abandoned, neglected and abused, the world became a very scary place. Over time, the deep wounds that had been inflicted in our hearts hardened to bitter scars that consumed us until we became that which we hated most. But God sees beyond that. He sees beyond our sinful behaviors to the very deepest part of us. And as I listen to this song, I can feel God’s heart breaking for these precious children who have been neglected and abused and who are crying out to anyone who would hear, “Who will love me for me?” |
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in need of prayer
11/6/2009 12:24:40 PM
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It has been quite a while since my last post. We have been dealing with a very sick puppy. We purchased our puppy from a breeder on Saturday night, and immediately noticed that the puppy had worms. We called the breeder and was told that she had been wormed three times and that what we were seeing was normal, so my husband and I decided to take her with us on a previously scheduled business trip, figuring that we would take her to our vet for a check-up when we returned. By Tuesday morning the puppy was lethargic and ill and was still excreting worms, so we took her to a wonderful vet in Omaha who saw her immediately. (The twenty-forth street animal clinic in Omaha, Nebraska saved our puppy's life.) After a thorough examination, we learned that not only did our puppy have a really bad case of tapeworms (all 2.4 pounds of her), but she had ear mites, an ear infection, fleas, a respiratory infection and intestinal problems. The vet gave her liquids with antibiotics subcutaneously and sent me home with medicine. I mixed her medicine with her dog food and water and forced it down her throat one teaspoon at a time every fifteen minutes. Praise God, she made it through the night and expelled a large number of dead worms that had been previously robbing her of her nutrients and probably causing the bacterial infection. Unfortunately, she did not perk up and so by 10:20 on Wednesday morning, I called the vet again and they saw her at 11:00. At this time, they gave her more fluids subcutaneously and high calorie nutrients using a syringe. The puppy did not show any interest in food and so this had to be forced. The vet then gave me enough medication to get us home. When we got home, we called our own vet and scheduled an appointment for the very next day. The next morning, (Thursday) the puppy appeared to be slightly improved and acted very thirsty, however, whenever she would drink, she would vomit it up. Because of her inability to retain food or fluid by mouth, the vet decided to keep her over night. What joy we felt the next morning when we learned that she had made it through the night! I just got back from the vets office (Friday at 2:00) and was hoping that our little puppy would be well enough to come home with us for the weekend, but unfortunately, she is still not doing well and the vet cannot guarantee if she will even survive. This will be a very long weekend for us all. We would definitely appreciate your prayers. I know it may sound silly to ask for prayers for a puppy, but we have grown very attached to this poor little girl, and it is very difficult to see one of God’s creatures suffer so. |
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A Grand Canyon Adventure is Here!
10/26/2009 10:41:54 AM
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After years of research, months of rewrites and countless edits, A Grand Canyon Adventure is finally finished! And although this book has an engaging story line that will inspire a deeper level of faith and committed obedience in its readers, it does much more than that. Perhaps the first of its kind, A Grand Canyon Adventure weaves accurate, biblical scientific information throughout the text, creating what we would like to term a “biblical science fiction”. It is not the science fiction of aliens or rapidly spinning spacecrafts that enter into diverse worlds. We call it science fiction because accurate geological and sociological data is woven throughout a fictional work. In some ways, it is the “Magic Tree House” or “Magic School Bus” for the Christian world, only without the “magic”.
As our readers join Jenna Henley and her family on their wonderful, terrible, peaceful, and yet, at times, terrifying trip to the Grand Canyon, they will learn about the canyon’s geology and history, the theory of catastrophic plate tectonics, how world history refutes the idea of an evolving civilization.
The story begins with Jenna Henley’s fears that her dad will lose his job, changing their entire life in an instant, and although her young, anxious mind fights against the many fears that seem to eat away at her young heart, she deliberately makes the choice to trust not only her parents, but Jesus as well. And when her dad comes home from work and tells her and her mom that they will soon be taking the vacation of a lifetime, Jenna’s already tumultuous emotions kick in to full gear because this vacation to the Grand Canyon is much more than a temporary break from reality…it is also an opportunity for her dad to land a new job…in the remote and seemingly isolated city of Flagstaff, Arizona. And when Jenna learns that her parents will be taking the mean-spirited Sarah Rotham with them, a girl who spends her time spewing out lies and inciting everyone to turn against Jenna Henley, any hopes of enjoying what could very well be their last family vacation EVER are totally shattered. But when Jenna and Sarah find themselves clinging to the edge of the Grand Canyon for dear life, Jenna begins to see Sarah in an entirely different light. No longer is she the mean gossip queen who seems to exist only to make Jenna Henley miserable…now she is a sad, hurting and lost girl desperately in need of a Savior. And as darkness begins to settle across the deep canyon, Jenna Henley realizes how little time she has.
This book has been a lot of fun to research and to write, but perhaps what I have enjoyed most during the creation of this title are the people who I have met along the way. My cover artist, Johanna Stickney is a perfect example. Here I was looking for a talented artist who could capture my vision in paint, and not only did God provide a woman who is perhaps one of the most gifted artists I have met, but He provided a woman who was passionately and intimately connected to Him as well, and that blessed me even more than the work she created. Johanna Stickney could be a model for us all. As a stay home mom of two young girls, she has managed to find a way to fulfill God’s calling to all of us in Proverbs 31 by using the time, resources and talents available to her at the present moment, where she is at, to not only continue to nurture the family that God has entrusted to her care, but to provide a little extra money as well.
Johanna’s talents are endless. She can create beautiful landscapes that seem to jump off the canvas, portraits that appear to capture the very heart of those whom she paints and animals that look so real you would think they came from a high-resolution camera. If you are looking for a painting that has the quality of high-end art work without the price, contact her at Johanna.stickney@gmail.com.
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helping children deal with fear
10/6/2009 11:08:59 AM
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The other night when I went upstairs to tuck our daughter in to bed, I found her pressed against the headboard holding her Bible to her chest. She stared at me with wide eyes and asked, “Mom, do you remember that verse that you used to tell me when I had bad dreams? The one about looking to the hills?” Of course I remembered it! It had been our verse for months and we had memorized it together and recited it out loud every night before I turned off the light and left her to fall to sleep. That verse, found in Psalm 121, had been a lifesaver! My daughter has always been slightly sensitive and easily scared. Things that appear funny or entertaining to most have resulted in night after night of bad dreams for her. And for years, my husband and I tried everything we could think of to help her sleep through the night. We assured her that there was nothing to be afraid of. We filled her bed with all of her special stuffed animals. We left hall lights on and bought night lights, but nothing worked…until we asked God to help. And as always, His way was very effective because He cut to the chase and brought it to the level of the heart and mind, the level of trust—not in my husband and I, but in Him. God showed us how to teach her to take her thoughts captive (2 Corinthians 10:5) and to replace those negative, scary thoughts with positive promises of God. Basically, we told her that she was in control of her mind and that she could choose what she thought about. And then we encouraged her to fill her mind with thoughts that were true, and lovely, and noble, and right. (Phil. 4:8) And that is when our nightly ritual was born. It would always begin with a Bible reading and some special time snuggling close together. This sort of calmed her mind and filled her with truth in a gentle and loving way. Then we flipped to Psalm 121 and recited the words of the passage together. At first, I did most of the reciting, but it wasn’t long before she knew the entire passage by heart. And then we would pray. We prayed that God would take away her scary feelings, her scary thoughts, and her scary dreams and then we prayed that He would give her happy thoughts, happy feelings, and happy dreams. And it worked! Within a very short period of time, her bad dreams had stopped and we were all sleeping soundly. At the time, all I wanted to do was help her get over her nightmare-episodes. Little did I know that I was training her to turn to God’s Word for reassurance and comfort. By asking me, at age twelve, to help her remember this verse that we had spoken together for so many years, my daughter reminded me just how deep every word spoken and every lesson taught really go. No longer was I the one encouraging her to take her thoughts captive and think about the promises of God; she was doing this on her own. She may have forgotten where to find the verse, but she didn’t forget its power or comfort. And in light of that, I must say, I am actually glad that she experienced those frightened nights so many years ago because it gave her an opportunity to learn how to apply and gain comfort from the living Word of God. God truly works in amazing ways, does He not? |
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World-changing love
9/13/2009 7:44:22 PM
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I have spent the day listening to some great songs on YouTube. My favorite is “How He loves us”, and I have to admit, I’ve probably listened to this song at least ten times today. As soon as the song is over, I click on it again, and again, and again and again, and each time I am brought to tears. I can’t describe how it feels to hear, and know, that the Creator of the universe loves me! I can only hope that you understand because you are feeling His amazing, unchanging, never-failing love yourself.
The other song I listened to was “I’ll Take You Back” by Jeremy Camp. This video totally leveled me—the image of the hurting teenager who is spiraling further and further away from the One who can save him. And that is when it hit me like a heavy weight smack in my chest. There are many who don’t know about this love. They know about God—His rules, His churches, His children, but they don’t know, have never felt, do not understand, His love. And as this realization flooded my mind, a fire was ignited deep within me—a sense of urgency—these people needed to know about God’s love, not intellectually, but intimately, personally.
Sometimes I think as Christians, we are going about things the wrong way. Everything’s become an issue. Even people. But when did people quit being people? What if we focused on the individual instead of the movement? What if every pregnant teenager had a loving Christian walking beside them? How many abortions would there be? And what if every drug addicted mother or alcoholic father had someone to call at three in the morning? And what if every family gave just one meal once a month to one homeless man holding a sign on the street corner? What would happen to our “issues”? What would happen to our world?
I’m going to post those two YouTube videos here. It is my prayer that as you listen to them, you will feel just how real God’s love for you is. And for those of you who already know and experience this love, feel the Father’s heart for the rest of His children, for all those hurting and lost individuals whose definition of love has been clouded by past pain and shame. And then, ask, “God, what would you have me do?”
How He Loves Us I'll Take You Back This is why I wrote the Jagged Edge of Broken Glass. (coming soon) I wanted to shatter peoples misconceptions of drug-addicts and pregnant teenagers. I wanted to remove the veil and cut through the hardened exteriors until the hearts were revealed. Somehow in the church we have lost our understanding of grace. Grace doesn't say only those with respectable pasts or two parent homes are allowed in. Grace says that God's love is for everyone. |
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Noah's Ark Expedition
9/10/2009 12:54:12 PM
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I am anxiously awaiting the news of the Ark Search, LLC expedition that is currently exploring Mt. Ararat in search of the biblical Noah’s Ark. According to Dr. Price, a professor of Judaic Studies at Liberty University, ark-sized, dark organic matter has been found on the summit and could be uncovered shortly. But this will be no easy task. Hindered by 100 mile an hour winds and lack of funds, the team will face seemingly insurmountable odds. (Find out more)
To many, Noah’s Ark is nothing more than a fairy tale that has been retold for countless generations, but to Dr. Price, Noah’s Ark, and the flood it was in, were as real as the Revolutionary War. And this year, members of the Ark Search, LLC expedition hope to bring back the tangible proof, perhaps a picture of the Ark or an ancient piece of wood, to validate their beliefs, and the Scriptures they are based upon. Driven by their deeply rooted faith and a child-like sense of adventure, this team of middle-aged men have embarked on a journey that many of us can only dream of.
It was this child-like faith and sense of adventure that led to the creation of Journey to the Ice. A historical fiction about a young Mesopotamian boy living in the land of Shinar some 100 years after the flood, Journey to the Ice transports the reader into another world…a world of giant lizards, hairy long-tooths and endlessly spiraling caves.
I have always been intrigued by biblical history, and by the many civilizations that are revealed throughout the pages of Scripture. The Sumereans of Ur, the Hittites, Amelakites, Midianites, and Egyptians have always captured my attention. The Bible brings these ancient people groups to life in a mysteriously beautiful and life-changing way. Journey to the Ice expands on the mystery and intrigue of Genesis chapters six through eleven in a story that is both beautiful and engaging, re-igniting the child-like sense of adventure that lies within us all. Available at Amazon.com or through Ingram distributers (soon), this chapter book has managed to capture the hearts of young and old alike. Find out more at http://journeytotheice.com.
Intrigued by biblical history as I am, I love reading the works of historians who lived during the time of Christ. One of my favorite historians is Josephus, a Jew who lived between 37AD and 100AD. In the book, The Complete Works of Josephus Flavius, Josephus makes some wild claims regarding the flood. According to Josephus, the Armenians called a place on top of a certain mountain in Armenia the “Place of Descent”. This ancient tourist attraction was said to be the place where Noah and his family first disembarked from the ark. Also according to Josephus, Berosus the Chaldean, Hieronymus the Egyptian (author of the Phoenician antiquities), and Mnaseas wrote about the flood and ark, claiming that some parts of the ship remained in Armenia at the mountain of the Cordyaeans. According to these historians, ancient people carried off pieces of bitumen to use as amulets.
Just how credible are these accounts? And what did these ancient historians see and hear? Oh, to be a fly on an ancient wall! Perhaps when I begin researching my next book, I can begin to locate some of these ancient documents…
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A thought provoking perspective
9/9/2009 6:30:29 AM
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I stumbled across this post today and thought it offered an interesting and thought provoking perspective. I found it on the fulbright in Christ website. |
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Hacking away at diseased branches
9/2/2009 11:30:45 AM
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After two months of neglect, I finally decided to spend some time working in our yard. Perhaps I am a little late in the season as the leaves on the many trees throughout our neighborhood have already started to turn red and orange, but as I like to say (much too often, I must admit) better late than never. Unfortunately, had I gone out earlier and spent the time caring for the poor little stubs that used to be our bushes, I am sure I wouldn’t have ended up with the tangled mess that I did. Much to my dismay, in that short period of time, while I was comfortably tucked away in my nice, air conditioned home, nasty leaf-devouring insects had taken up permanent residence in our bushes. By the time I realized what was going on, many of the once green leaves had turned a soggy brown as the insects had spread from one bush to the next until three out of our six bushes were completely infested.
Again, had I caught this earlier perhaps I could have trimmed away a few of the infested branches, leaving the rest unharmed, but as I began to work my way through the rotting limbs, I soon realized that I would have to butcher the plants entirely, reducing them to their small knobby stubs, if they were to have any chance of survival. And so I began the long, cumbersome, and rather disgusting work of hacking. It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t pretty. In fact, when I was done, it looked like a giant steam roller had pummeled its way through my yard. And as my skin crawled with the thought of all these tiny little bugs (I have no idea what they were) crawling all over me, I began to question why I had started this project in the first place. I mean, really, didn’t I have better things to do with my time then go prancing through a bunch of bug-infested bushes? Perhaps I should have let them be until the bugs had taken over completely, allowing those poor little bushes to die so that they would be easier to uproot in the spring. Besides, I had so many other things to do— things to write, stories to edit, calls to make, (oh, and showers to scrub, but that’s another story
 )—couldn’t I have hired someone else to do it? Seriously, why did I care so much about these hideous, diseased branches? The answer was very simple: my bushes, and my yard, are a reflection of me. They are the first thing my friends and neighbors see when they come to my house, and like it or not, many of these friends and neighbors will form an opinion about me based on the condition of my home. Am I careful and tidy? Am I responsible with those resources that God has entrusted to my care? And as I carried my bulging lawn-waste bag up my driveway, I had to laugh at how closely my life resembles those bushes. As a child of God, I was created in love and planted with care, but unlike my bushes, God does not neglect me for months on end, allowing hideous infestations to take root in my heart. Thank goodness, He is a much more careful gardener than I, and most of the time, He trims away a gnarled branch or infested limb before it hinders my growth, but every once in awhile, when I, by my own selfish desires or careless attitude, allow a pesky little creature to make its home amongst my tender leaves, God must step in and hack away, just as I had to with my bushes. And just as was the case with my bushes, it is not always pretty. In fact, to the outsider, it may look like I have been pummeled by a steam roller, but just as I knew what awaited my bushes come next spring when they were able to blossom disease free, and even more importantly, just as I knew what they would look like if left to their own devices, God knows me, and what my heart would look like if He let the insects of pride, fear, anger, hatred, selfishness and covetousness fester in my heart. And so, when necessary, God brings out His bush whacker, reducing me to the tender stub that remains connected to Him. And at times it is painful, and ugly, but because I know that He only acts in love, I will focus not on the gnarled branches that lay tossed aside in the trash but instead on the promise of new growth come next spring, doing all that I can to cooperate with God’s pruning process. Because if I look at the fallen branches, and their diseased leaves, I may have a tendency to feel discouraged or overwhelmed, especially when I compare the mammoth pile of garbage to the small little stump that is left, but when I look at my Gardener, I realize that this is just the beginning and the best is yet to come. Because with God’s help, nothing is irreparable or insurmountable. With God, each cut, each disappointment, each failure, each confessed sin, is a chance for new growth.
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Tossing the training wheels
8/26/2009 9:15:29 AM
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Yesterday I came home to find our neighbor and her daughter circling their smoothly paved driveway. The little was girl on a small pink bike that looked fairly new and her mother ran a few paces behind with her arms held wide in anticipation of a fall. It was a beautiful sight because I knew I was watching someone achieve a major milestone.
And as I watched this little girl veer to the right and into the grass, her tiny little legs wobbling back and forth as she fought to keep her ultra-tense body erect, I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered when my daughter had done the same thing.
She was perhaps five years old, maybe six, and desperately wanted to graduate from her training wheel supported bike to the brand new “big girl” bike we had just purchased for her at a local discount store. But she didn’t just want to learn to ride it, she wanted to learn by Father’s Day and she wanted it to be a surprise for her daddy. You see, my daughter and her daddy had been going on bike rides since she was a baby. He would strap her in the infant bike seat and take her zooming up and down the hills in our neighborhood. And that was their time. Whenever my husband would get home from work, before he turned on the television or settled himself into his overstuffed recliner, he would grab our daughter and his bike and head out for some good one-on-one time.
And so, holding on to the memories of all the special times the two of them had spent together cruising up and down our sidewalks, and dreaming about the look on her father’s face when he saw her take off down the street on her brand-new, training wheel free bike, our daughter was determined to conquer the fears that welled up inside her. But unfortunately, this was much harder for her to do then she had anticipated as her fear of falling fought against her determination to please her daddy. And so began our routine.
Every day my daughter would load herself down with wrist braces, gloves, knee pads and helmet and would then walk with me out to the garage. And each time she saw her new shiny bike rested against the wall, she would turn to me with those big green eyes that made your heart melt and say, “Can you pray for me, Mommy?” And so we would pray. We prayed that God would watch over her and keep her safe, and that he would take away all of the scary feelings that she had. And then we would walk over to the bike, pull it out of the garage and onto the sidewalk where she would sit for maybe ten minutes, her hands wrapped tightly around the handle bars and her eyes glued on the menacing pavement in front of her. And then, inevitably, after perhaps ten minutes of immobility, she would turn to me and say, “I changed my mind, Mommy.” And so, we would put her bike away only to repeat this process step by step the following day, and the day after that and the day after that. Until one day a neighbor who had probably been watching us for quite some time, came out and offered some advice. She told us that perhaps my daughter would feel better if I were to lower the seat so that her feet could easily reach the ground. That way, when her bike started to fall, she could steady herself.
Taking our neighbor's advice, I lowered my daughter’s seat. And do you know what? It worked! And so, I spent the next few days helping my daughter grow more and more confident on her bike, raising the seat millimeter by millimeter, as she was ready, until in a matter of a few short weeks, she was off!
Thinking about all of this reminded me of how God has worked in my life. There have been times, like when He asked me to teach my first Sunday school class or give my first presentation or even start my first website that I looked at the task in much the same way that my daughter had looked at her bike. And I asked many of the same questions: But what if I fall? What if I can’t do it? What if everyone laughs at me?
But God knew me, my fears, and my heart, and guided me step by step, first by sitting me on that lowered seat where my feet were firmly planted on the ground, and then raising the seat inch by inch until I could pedal without fear full speed ahead. As a result of all those white knuckle moments, whenever God asks me to “raise the seat” of my journey another inch higher, somehow the pavement doesn’t seem quite so scary because I can look back at all the times God has faithfully and gently led me through other “scary” situations. And I know, if I trust in Him and follow His leading, He will not ask me to do more than I am able and He will always be there to catch me when I fall.
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