The Sweet By and By – Book Review

We all have our past that we keep put away, and the characters in The Sweet By and By, written by Sara Evans, with Rachel Hauck, and published by Thomas Nelson, are no different. Our past makes us who we are. Jade Fitzgerald finds this out as the story unfolds. As Jade’s like unfolds, she finds herself without a relationship to the Lord. Yet through her relationships with others, and their witness in her life, she comes to know the Lord.

From a less than idyllic childhood to a strong, self-sufficient adulthood, Jade finds herself in love with Max, a lawyer who believes God rules his life. Max finds out some things about Jade’s past, but that only makes him stay with her all the more. To give more details would give away the story. Suffice it to say that The Sweet By and By is a sweet, heartwarming story of love, life, and faith – not bad for a first novel from a top selling recording artist.

The review was written by my wife, Cyndy, the fiction reader/reviewer of the family. The Sweet By and By kept her coming back to it until she finished it. The story moves quickly along – Cyndy finished it in record time – and she is a quick reader.

Peace be with you.

A New Year

I would like to say that during my resent absence from the blogosphere I was kicking back in Ireland in a pub learning Irish folk songs, exploring the wilds in Africa, or some other such venture that is on my list of things I would like to do some day. But, alas, that is not the case. I was undramatically chained to my desk trying to finish writing and editing my book while battling winter weather, teenagers, and attending church events and activities. While writing and editing is still a task, it is an enjoyable one for the most part. And the church activities celebrating the birth of Christ were not only enjoyable, but heartwarming, soul reviving, and faith-filled, particularly with the activities in which I had a part.

Now the teenagers are back in school. I can get back to my daily routine and work on my book. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas or enjoyed the holiday of their respective religion, and is looking forward to the new year. News reports and stories are already telling us what the year will be like. As with any other human being, however, it is simply their educated estimate. Educated in some instances anyway.

But I have my own ideas about what the year might hold for myself and my family. At least as much of it as I have any control over. The rest is up to God. There will be times when it will not be easy (did I say I just spent two weeks in a house with restless, bored teenagers?). Yet there will also be times when life will be joyous and celebratory. As the expression used to say, I just “keep on stroking” (or “trucking” as the case may be). Having faith that whatever the coming year brings, whatever I am called to confront, the Lord will be beside me.

Peace be with you.

“Between Wyomings, My God and an iPod on the Open Road” – Book Review

Between Wyomings, My God and an iPod on the Open Road, written by Ken Mansfield and published by Thomas Nelson, is a very interesting read – to say the least. Particularly if the reader grew up in the sixties and seventies, or is merely interested in the culture (music in particular) of that time in history. Mansfield was a record producer and record-label executive from the 60’s through the 90’s. He is also an ordained minister and public speaker.

The book is both a journey Mansfield is taking with his wife – each with their iPods – and a journey backward he is taking in his mind. At least in the trip with his wife, we get travel directions and points of interest. For the journey in his mind (his years in the music industry), the reader has no map or directional compass. Somewhat chronological from his beginning in the music industry, Mansfield is prone to jump to any moment of the entire journey.

Thrown in the mix are “God moments.” Theological vignettes, as it were, that seemingly come out of the blue. While I would be the first to agree that God moments tend to come out of nowhere, in the context of a book there needs to be some type of cause and effect. These vignettes appear as if he inserted them during the editing stage – thinking it had been a while since he had added a God moment.

It took me longer to read Between Wyomings than usual when reviewing a book, partly because of the happenings of life with three teenagers, but mostly because the book lacks continuity. A connection from one short chapter to another. It just seems to be a collection of stories and essays. He writes, as he says in the introduction, like a “Christian on acid.” But the stories are interesting and fairly readable within themselves.

One thing struck me when reading the book, having lived through a lot of those times myself. Which was that if he as an ordained minister can look back on that kind of life with a certain fondness, I can certainly consider myself forgiven for my sins. He does not dwell on the wild side of the music business, yet also does not act as if it did not happen. Anyone who is interested in the music business and culture in those decades and personal journeys with God should read this book. It just might be a while before they finish it.

Peace be with you.

“Step on a Crack, Break Your Mother’s Back”

I was walking to our youngest son’s school with his football gear he had forgotten that morning stuffed in my backpack. Cyndy takes all three boys when she goes to work, opening up the waking atmosphere to sleepy-eyed confusion in which things can slip teenage minds. It was a hot and fairly humid day. Which was not quite conducive to walking long distances on sidewalks with slight – as well as intermittent – shade.

I watch the ground while I walk for several reasons. For one thing, I walk quickly which requires watching the terrain. By watching the ground ahead of me, I am not constantly reminded of how far away my goal is at any given time. I also happen to find quite a few coins that way. But inevitably, while walking along, I recall something we used to say when I was younger. I’ve heard it recently, but not nearly as much as I used to.

“Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.”

Did I really believe it? Not really. Did I avoid the cracks? You betcha – just in case, and to be on the safe side. And I will have you know that to this day my mother has not broken her back. A few other things maybe, but not her back. I will also have you know that I do not think my avoiding cracks had a thing to do with it.

Yet, as I was walking to my son’s school, I was avoiding the cracks. More to set up a rhythm in my stride, but avoiding the cracks nonetheless. That got me to thinking – as life and walking are wont to do – about avoiding cracks and hedging bets.

As a general rule, I can set a rhythm or pace and move quickly along avoiding the cracks. As we as Christians can go about our life in the secular world. But then I come across a section of sidewalk – or life – that has begun to show wear, causing a conundrum. There are so many cracks that even a hop-scotch afficionado would have trouble traversing the area. Or the incline on the street corner purposely has a considerable number of cracks – much like on the side of the highway if you drift too far onto the shoulder.

So which cracks count in the break your mother’s back scenario? If it is a natural part of the sidewalk which was purposefully made that way, is that actually considered a crack? Is it just the actual cracks that have developed over time from wear and weather that count? Or do all cracks count causing the situation to be crucially problematic?

Fortunately, “step on a crack, break your mother’s back” is just a game. Unfortunately, life is not a game. Even though it might seem that way at one time or another. Some of the cracks we try to cross in life are wider and deeper than we would have ever imagined.

When we reach those “rough spots” we wonder if we simply took the wrong path to begin with and we are on the wrong sidewalk. Then we realize that no path is an easy path. How will we ever know if we took the wrong path? When the fact is, we only took this one. Sadly, we did not think enough about it in the first place.

On the other hand, if we put our faith in the Lord and Christ, the path will open up before us – we will trust the path we take. All paths have cracks in the sidewalk and other obstacles. But by the grace of God we make it to the end of life’s sidewalk.

 Peace be with you.

The Crescent Through the Eyes of the Cross – Book Review

The Crescent Through the Eyes of the Cross, written by Dr. Nabeel T. Jabbour, an Arab Christian, and published by Navpress, seeks to explain the Arab and Muslim worldviews to Christians and, in the process, compare it to the Christian worldview, and discuss ways in which Christians can dialogue with Muslims. Rather than a scholarly work, the book is an honest effort by an educated Christian to reconcile the seemingly contradictory worldviews of the people among whom he had lived.

While Jabbour does use concrete, real world examples to illustrate the Muslim’s worldview, in most incidents he uses “composite[s] of many Muslims I know.” The author also extensively uses imaginary scenarios. While these methods are helpful, the characters and scenarios lack depth and substance. The views are no doubt legitimate, but a composite or imaginary scenario does not give enough credence to the ideas expressed. Particularly in the views of “Ahmad’s sister.”

Jabbour is fond of the expression “unpack and address the issues” and uses it quite liberally, almost to the point of annoyance. Especially considering that the issues are not really “packed” in the first place. The issues are addressed all along. There are, though, enough concrete examples of actual people to get the brunt of the situation across to the reader and “address the issues.”

Despite any inherent problems in the flow of the material, the issues discussed are relevant and vital to the relationship between Christians and Muslims. The author correctly illustrates that only by understanding each others worldview can Christians and Muslims dialogue effectively. While Jabbour’s assumption is that conversion is a result of this mutual understanding, I am not so sure that conversion is imminent, or indeed, necessary.

In the end, however, The Crescent Through the Eyes of the Cross should be read by every Christian seeking to understand the Islamic faith and dialogue with Muslims. Since, in many cases, the two faiths exist and live within close proximity to each other, understanding and dialogue is a necessary goal. There are more similarities between the two religions than some Christians know or understand. At the very least, we should work to live together peacefully, rather than to fear each other through a lack of understanding.

Peace be with you.

The Lay Speaker Class and Luke

I was co-teaching Cultivate Christian Community, a lay speaking class, with John Bodnar a couple of weeks ago at Northgate UMC in Irving. Nine people registered, but a couple had to drop out due to a death in the family. Seven is still a good-sized class. Particularly that class because Cultivate Christian Community is about small groups in churches.

At one point we were discussing people in our churches who were selfless volunteers. I briefly told them about the late Luke Bradley, a man who volunteered selflessly around our church. He had his own keys to the church and worked on just about anything there was to be worked on. Luke would come in about 9 a.m. during the week, stopping at each of the staff offices, wanting to know if there was anything they needed done. If he did not have a particular project he would wander around the church making sure everything was working right – from the bathrooms to classroom lights to the A/C unit to just about anything you could think of.

I continued by telling the group that in our Disciple class last year, without warning, one of the ceiling fans which had been silently still, was suddenly rotating at top speed. It did it several time throughout the year. The first time it happened we decided that it must be Luke, just saying “hey.” I commented that I thought it would be just like Luke to offset a few things around the church. “They’ll remember me now,” I could hear him saying. Not out of spite or self-importance, but just as a little joke – to say “hi.”

The discussion wrapped up and I continued my presentation. Just about twenty minutes later, one of the lights in the room flickered on and off. It flickered on and off again a little while later.

“It must be Luke!” One of the woman in the class cried, eliciting laughter from the group.

Later on in the day, the light once again flashed on and off.

“Okay, Luke, knock it off,” I exclaimed. It was more of a reaction than anything else. To which another woman in the class replied.

“You brought him here!” 

Well, come to find out the church had been having problems with the ballast in that particular florescent light. Which I had figured was probably the case. But I knew one thing. If that had been our church – and Luke had been alive – no one would have known about the problem with the ballast because Luke would already have fixed it.

I also knew one more thing. More people now know about Luke and his selfless volunteering and dedication to his church and Christ. Which is a good thing. Luke was one of the best disciples I have ever known.

Peace be with you.

“Fearless” – Book Review

Fearless, by Max Lucado, published by Thomas Nelson, is as timely as it’s name suggests. Many types of fear haunt people throughout the world today. Fear of what is coming next, fear of disappointing God, fear of overwhelming challenges, fear of violence, and fear of life’s final moments. Lucado deals with them all in his fashion. With recollections and comparisons to, and stories of, known personalities, the author illustrates how fear touches us all daily.

But, as Lucado shows the reader through the scriptures and biblical examples, life goes on and God is still watching over us. Rather than let our fears overcome us, we can take comfort in the word and grace of God. As he states, “Change trampolines our lives, and when it does, God sends someone special to stabilize us.” On the eve of his death, Jesus “introduces us to the holy spirit.” Lucado then quotes John 14:26-27, “…I am leaving you with a gift – peace of mind and heart.”

Fear will not go away. It will always be a force to be reckoned with. But with hope and trust, our faith in God will prevail. We must make more time taking solace in God’s love and grace than the time we spend letting fear overcome us. Lucado ends the book with the story of William Fariss, a seven year old who prayed while his family’s home was reduced to cinders and charred brick. His mother notice that his prayers were psalm-like and wrote it down. The book ends with “[T]hough the flames threatened, the boy saw God in the flames. William trusted God and feared less. So can we. Amen, William. And amen.”

Indeed, amen.

Peace be with you.

Dog On the Roof

A while back, Cameron, J.D., and I were watching TV while I folded clothes. We heard odd noises for quite some time while the new neighbors in the house to the south of us had cable installed. Suddenly there was a rather urgent knock on the door. Cameron got up from the couch and answered the door. I heard a voice say “Ya’ll have a dog on the roof out here.”

Cameron went out the door so the man could show him. Cameron reacts to realities, not concepts. There is a small section of roof on the south side of the house. The back side is just outside J.D.’s window and the front side is outside Cameron’s window. The screen from the window was laying flat outside the window. And – as reported by the cable guy – Misty was on the roof.

Misty ran frantically around the front part of the small roof. She would not go over the peak of the roof onto the back part. She seemed to be getting pretty good traction on the shingles. She did slip a couple of times which slowed her down. She would scurry – not having any real room to run – to the edge, but would not jump off of the roof.

She would peer at the ground, at Cameron – who was hollering “no” to keep her from jumping – at the cable guy, and myself. I had seen that look on Misty’s face before when she was cautiously considering doing something she was not really certain she wanted to take to completion. She was considering her options. Jumping to the ground seemed to be the least desirable of the choices. Then she would spastically run around the section of roof as if she was frantically trying to find new options in a situation in which options were severely limited.

I felt that look on my face more recently, when I made the decision that resulted in my heel being broken. But I have also felt that look on my face in situations that did not include physical pain as a result. When my heel was broken, there was no one else around. In the other situations, that was not the case.

We all have those moments in which we seem stuck in time while frantically altering the inevitably approaching sequence of events in our mind, looking for additional options where there are none. Our faces flush with the heat from the redness of embarrassment. When we realize that even if no one else is around, the Lord is watching. And even if the Lord, in his mercy, turns his head, we will always know. We will also always remember that feeling of hopelessness – left with only two options.

Did we make the right choice? Maybe, and maybe not. Will we ever know for sure? Not hardly. But if we feel in our heart that we made the right choice, and circumstances do not reveal otherwise, then perhaps we can be at ease with the fact that we probably did make the right choice. We can also let God guide us, trust that he does, have faith that he did, and be even more at ease. That works, too.

By the way, Misty made the right choice and came back in the window.

Peace be with you.

Practice, Talent, and a Right Spirit

A young man of high school age lives across the street from us who is enamored with his skateboard and whom I will call Tim. Tim spends a large part of a considerable number of days during the week during the summer practicing in his driveway and the street. During the school year, he spends hours after school and on weekends. He is often shirtless, even in cold or rainy weather.

Sometimes Tim will set up a ramp in his driveway. Then he goes up onto the uphill driveway across the street and takes off toward the ramp while his sister or his mother takes pictures. I believe the intention is to get pictures of him in action coming toward the ramp. Mainly because I have never seen him, at least successfully, traverse the ramp.

The majority of the time Tim practices flipping the skateboard over while he is on it and landing back on the skateboard when it returns to right side up. That is, at least, his intention. When he is successful, the wheels return to the pavement with a quick slap of completion – the sound of which is gone as quickly as it comes. However, when Tim is less than successful – which is more often than not – the topside of the skateboard slapping the pavement under his weight makes a disturbing thunk sound that can interrupt thought processes inside several surrounding houses and seem to echo.

As much time as Tim spends practicing, I keep expecting him to get better at it. To conquer that move and begin practicing some other technique. Maybe that is the trick he wants to be able to do the most. I would think it might be just something to do until a friend comes over or something else happens, except for the picture taking episodes. Regardless, for hours, day after day it is roll-flip-thunk, roll-flip-thunk, roll-flip-slap, roll-flip-thunk.

In our Christian lives, I think we are often like Tim and his skateboard. We keep practicing, but we do not get any better at it. Or worse, we do not practice and hope that God will reach down and endow us with a brand new talent. Which, I dare say, is not likely to happen. If we are trying something new, God will perhaps use the talents we do have to give it a new perspective.

Sometimes when we practice continuously and do not show marked improvement it is because that is not the way in which we are intended to use our particular gifts. On the other hand, maybe we are not practicing in the right manner. Or we are not practicing with the right kind of attitude or “right spirit.” And the Lord hears “roll-flip-thunk, roll-flip-thunk, roll-flip-slap, roll-flip-thunk.”

Peace be with you.

(Note: This will be available in an expanded form (with small group material) as a Bible study lesson at www.danroark.com soon.)

Pot Roast and Fresh Bread

One Saturday I prepared a pot roast in the crock-pot. I also baked a loaf of bread – timing it to be baked and cooled by the time the pot roast was ready. While the bread was cooling, I went to the store for some eggs for Cyndy to bake a dessert. When I walked back in the front door, I turned to Cyndy sitting on the couch.

“It smells better than a hotel. There’s nothing like the smell of pot roast and fresh bread!”

Admittedly there are other people who think that something other combination smells better than pot roast and fresh bread – although I am not acquainted with any. And I have actually stayed in hotels which, had there been another option, I would have skipped. But when you have three teenagers, entering a nice, clean hotel room is very refreshing – on those rare occasions when we have a chance to have that experience. But I would rather smell pot roast and fresh bread at home. It gives us the illusion that all is well and disguises the fact that the house is not as clean as it should be.

There is another smell, or combination of smells, that puts me at peace with the world more than pot roast and fresh bread. And that is the smells of a church on Sunday morning. The mixture of perfumes and aftershave when everyone gathers before entering the service. The smell of aging wood, the smell and feel of well worn pew Bibles and hymnals, and the smell of bread on communion Sunday.

But the feeling I get of fulfilment, unburdening myself, and the sense of peace I feel during worship – in or out of a church building – with fellow Christians is one of the best feelings in the world, along with the respective smells. A camp meeting would elicit smells of scented flowers, trees, rotting wood, various animals, and the mixture of people smells that the fresh country air carries along on its way to no place in particular.

As uplifting as worship, praise, and prayer can be, it is still nice coming home to the smell of pot roast and fresh bread that the Lord helped us to provide.

Peace be with you.