|
It has been a packed summer for me with book signings (which I keep forgetting to post here) and just summery type stuff. One thing I've begun to observe is the break in the chain of publishing in Canada. I am beginning to see a sense of inferiority in the Canadian writing industry and it filters all through the chain of command stopping just shy of the reader. We have the publishers. For some reason we think that if we are published in Canada we really aren't legitimate writers. And this is sometime reinforced by book stores that have been convinced that New York publishers are the end all and be all. Then there are the distributors. Again, it is assumed that we need a US distributor to get our books into the States. Then we get to the book stores. No Canadian section. No Canadian books. No Canadian authors featured. Having said that, I do realize that there are some who have dived in and are rightfully proud of the Canadian content of their stores and to those store owners--thank you, thank you, thank you! But far too many people in the publishing process still believe that Canadians can't write, edit, publish, distribute or promote. Nonesense! I am proud to say that I have done my books in Canada because I'm Canadian. Funny thing is: the American readers understand this concept completely! They couldn't imagine using another nation's publishing company, promotion company, distribution company to get their books out there. And what do the readers of Canada think? As I have continued to chug my way from book signing to book signing, I have discovered that Canadians want to read what Canadians write. I've had people buy my books just because I'm Canadian. They didn't even care what they were about! Now how crazy is that? And yet, they are frustrated because they have to beg for Canadian books to be brought into stores. Isn't it time Canadians embraced all things Canadian? Just a thought. |
|
More and more I am discovering that home taught and Christian School taught students have a love of writing. I see this as I travel teaching writing workshops in those venues. As my books are getting out there the demand is rising for the fifty minute workshops and it is so refreshing to see the enthusiasm in the next generation. No, we don't need video games or fancy lures to get our children reading books. They simply need to understand that it can be fun. At one time I thought reading was going to go the way of the dinosaur but now I don't believe so. There is nothing better than diving into a plot while curled up in a big cushy arm chair with a cup of cocoa. Our children are discovering that and it brings a song to my heart. Well done you home teachers! |
|
It has been far too long since I've visited my home teaching friends. I hope summer has been good to you. I have been really busy. It appears God is expanding my ministry from writing novels to speaking in home teaching conferences to teaching writing workshops at Christian schools nation wide. It leaves me little time to actually write for extended periods but He knows what it is best for me. Drop by and let me know how you're doing. Blessings. |
|
Donna Dawson Revelation 13:16 - 17 (NIV) Often, I receive, in my email, those electronic missives that smack of government conspiracy and, for the most part, I file them under the little red X. But on rare occasion, the subject matter tweaks my interest and begs me to qualify. Such was the case with the email entitled "Bill C-51?the loss of freedom". |
|
So now, you are far enough along in the Bible reading to be able to carry on on your own. I am continuing on offline as well. Let's see if we can finish reading The Book from cover to cover and be in that small group of people who have done so. |
|
Today is the final leg of our book signing. We have learned much about our ministry and our attitudes toward it. Going into this thing, somewhere in the back of my grey matter, my focus was to promote books. But as we pack up our things, I have been refocused. La Bonne Nouvelle book store has been the tool God has used to do the readjusting. In this store I have seen ministry in action. Yes, at the end of the day, Terry and his group of employees want to sell books but there is so much more involved here. I have been to Christian book stores where the workers are callous or indifferent. I have been to stores where honour is forgotten and I find myself in a battle to be reembursed for my books. But here at La Bonne Nouvelle, I see hurting people enter the doors and find friendship. We sit this morning and watch the gentle conversation between staff and those looking for Christ in their example. As the day moves by, we are overwhelmed by the flow of human traffic. And yet, we shouldn't be surprised because here people are treated as though they are special. That treatment envelopes us as well. While the books don't exactly pour out the door, I do end up having to dig into my stock--and am shocked that Terry is quick to cover the cost of it. It is just one more example of the integrity that should be expected in a Christian establishment and is seen here constantly. All in all, this trip has taught us that being an author isn't about selling books, it's about showing Christ. Thank you Terry and the crew for teaching us this all important lesson. |
|
We have had a tiring day. Arriving at Terry's store we were amazed at the activity. It appears that La Bonne Nouvelle is a happening book store. While we didn't move many books, customers did stop by and chat and that is the beauty of an author signing event. Days like this remind us of the reasons behind writing. There are so many people out there seeking truth. If our books can in some way answer that need it is indeed a blessing. I have to say that the sense of community in Moncton is amazing. Having come from small towns it is familiar to me but it isn't often one sees this kind of community in such a big city. We have also been blessed by the work that is being done for Christ within the various churches. We talked to several different pastors today and were fascinated by the street work and the large events that are taking place in abundance. It was refreshing for me to see this kind of community devotion. Kudos to the Moncton churches. On another note, we are looking forward to hearth and home, Fay and I are. It is true that in a marriage the two become one and we are both missing our other halves. The hour count down has begun to our departure. As of this posting we have ten hours to go before we begin the arduous journey home. Have we accomplished anything on this trip? We have come to realize that the accomplishments are not ours to be concerned about. That is God's worry. Have we acted in obedience? I can only answer for me and I have the certainty that 'yes' I have done what God has led me to do. His word says 'Commit thy ways to the Lord...' We have done so and it is his responsibility to see it through to his end. Knowing that, I feel confident that this has been an excellent tour. So tomorrow is our last day here in friendly Moncton. Fay and I have decided it is to be a waffle day. Meaning a little spoiling at breakfast is most certainly called for. It has been a joy to meet the believers God has put in our path. My prayer is that God continues to bless this city through the hands of those who are working so hard to further his kingdom. |
|
This morning has dawned with a tinge of crisp Atlantic air flavouring the fourteen degree sunshine. We have both rested well. It is with a strange sense of eagerness that I realize we have reached the furthest destination in our trip and will be beginning our trek toward home. I am back behind the wheel. While we are still in Dartmouth, I am beginning to get my bearings enough to find my way out to the Trans Canada. No, I haven't seen an Edmunston sign which would put me in the right direction but the pull west is there. We set off into the bright morning and reach Moncton by noon--just in time to book a hotel and eat before the book reading at Riverview Library. We would like to touch base with more churches but are simply too weary so we settle for off-loading our luggage and nabbing a bite at Timmie's. It looks like we have become Tim Horton's groupies. We aren't certain what to expect at Riverview. Library readings tend to be a bit small. We are met by Lynn Cormier who is a warm and efficient Librarian. We set up our table and prepare for an afternoon of--well--we're not sure. By two o'clock our small but enthusiastic audience is settled and we chat. It turns out that one of the ladies is from Newfoundland and knows Fay's family. This breaks down any possible barrier one could have and the afternoon is a fun and relaxing time for us. We read excerpts from all of our books and Lynn takes a copy of each for the Library. Home, which is actually the Amsterdam, beckons us and we heed the call with gusto. Our idea of thrilling entertainment for tonight is checking our email as we consider whether to order in Boston pizza or not. The sudden burst of rain may make the decision for us. Either way, I can't see us keen to run any marathons. Tomorrow is the book signing. And Saturday. Your prayers are welcome, nay coveted, nay begged for with desperation. We need the energy that is almost spent in order to honour our host Terry Branscombe. We want to be vibrant and lively for the next two days of book signings. For those who have posted or emailed, thank you, thank you, thank you. You are our spiritual warriors. You are our girder-uppers (I insist it is indeed a word). And most of all, you are a great blessing to us. |
|
Last night, we had decided to sleep in. It's a bit unnerving when one realizes that sleeping in has become a push to make it past 8 a.m. before leaping out of bed. It's also a bit disturbing to realize that it is the latest we have risen in our entire trip. I learned a long time ago that humility is by far the safer course. After all, pride does go before a fall according to Proverbs. With that in mind, I hand the keys to Fay and tell her to drive on. Halifax/Dartmouth is far too much of a handful for me. With keys at the ready, Fay climbs into the driver's seat and I the passenger. Being a type A personality, this isn't easy for me to do but Fay knows the city and I don't. We cruise down some road that has at least twenty different names tacked to it and a half-dozen on and off ramps. We sniff out the Palladium Restaurant where we scarf down a large breakfast. Fay is kind enough to agree to a trip to Lower Sackville where my dad's twin brother lives. We telephone ahead and agree to meet at Rock Church in the parking lot but it isn't until we get to the parking lot and sit for five minutes waiting for a car with a canadian flag clamped to the antennae that Fay remembers we were supposed to call Uncle as soon as we left. We share a laugh when he rolls up beside us and then the merry chase is on as we follow the rabbit warren back to his cute little apartment and my sweet Auntie May. He has told Fay to call him Uncle Poppy. That name traces its origins back to my children who call my father Poppy instead of Grandpa. It only stands to reason that they should call his identical twin Uncle Poppy and the name has stuck. So now he's Uncle Poppy to both Fay and I. While it has been a few years since I've seen them, we catch up on family events in a rush of boisterous conversation. I still get those strange moments of deja vous when I watch him mirror my father's actions and expressions. We are amazed at how our small hour speeds by and it almost hurts to say goodbye but we are meeting Pam shortly after lunch and she has an afternoon planned for us. I know Fay struggles with the short time here too. She has many friends and loved ones that she longs to see and I sense she is saddened that she just simply can't fit much into our short stay. I completely understand having my own share of Aunts and Uncles and cousins. We arrive back at Pam's place a bit early and are happy for the down time before she gets home from work. The trip is beginning to tell. Both Fay and I are getting tired and yet it is amazing how well we work together--still. We continue to laugh at ourselves--and each other--and now a simple look or word sends us off into a fit of giggles. (Yes, I know giggling isn't normally an attribute of mine but the moments sometimes simply seize me) I am amazed at Pam's generous nature. Not only has she made us feel completely at home but she is booking off work early to share the afternoon. Fay and I check out emails and kick back and relax until Pam arrives and then it's off on an afternoon of R & R. I have caved in on my resolution to pass by Tim Horton's for today. Pam is understanding and stops long enough for my coffee infusion and then we head for Shubie Park which runs along the Shubennacadie Canal system. We begin to tell stories of funny moments at church and in life. I am sworn to secrecy and will keep my vow even if I am offered a house on the south beach of Hawaii and all the gummy bears a girl could ever wish for. Dinner is a feast down at the Boon Dock Restaurant on the waterfront. It is filled with laughter and fun and way too much amazing food. And then we are off to touch base with our host's daughter and friends. Our day winds down to a relaxing evening and we are grateful for a complete break from anything book related. It is enough to recharge our batteries. Often, in the quiet moments, I find myself missing my husband very much. Tomorrow is another day and it will be a busy one. The busy days go quickly bringing home that much closer. We will search for a hotel, touch base with a few more churches perhaps and then have our book reading at Riverview Library. So, Edmunston here we come! No? Oh ya. I forgot. Moncton. |
|
Today is wonderful. leaving Fredericton (and being glad to see nosigns for Edmunston) bright and eartly, we grab our Timmy's coffee and meet a gentleman willing to take our picture. (See Fay's site) After a few moments of conversation we quickly discover we have much in common. He is a believer in Christ who loves to write and is very interested in our book marks and an invitation to La Bonne Nouvelle in Moncton. We are pleased that my internal navigational beacon has finally kicked in and we cruise on down the Trans to Moncton. I think the battery that feeds my compass dies when we reach the outskirts but Fay is still very patient with me as I struggle to make sense of round-abouts and interchanges. Our first stop is at the Riverview Library in Riverview. We just want to touch base with the Librarian and leave book marks and The Word Guild literature with Lynn Cormier. She is happy to take them for her patrons and we are looking forward to participating in her planned reading Thursday May 29 at 2:00 p.m. Next to the library is a lovely old church. Fay and I decide to stop in, where I greet the church secretary and leave book marks and an invitation to the reading and the book signing at Terry Branscombe's store. She recognizes our faces off of the brochures we sent out a month ago and receives us with enthusiasm. This is encouraging and we move from church to church on our way through the city. Wanting to meet Terry, we are delighted to find a busy and well-stocked Christian book store. What a joy to see his store thriving in an industry where many Christian stores are being closed. Terry meets us within moments of stepping through the doors and introduces us to his staff. our excitement is mounting and we are feeling overwhelmed as Moncton embraces us. As we finish our visits and head toward the New Brunswick border, Fay and I very much know that god has blessed this province with kind and loving people. We look forward to Thursday, Friday and Satruday when we can return and get to know our Christian brothers and sisters better. We arrive in Halifax early and decide to visit The Bible Treasury, a lovely christian book store. We give out our material and receive a very warm welcome here. It's such a joy to be received by these Maritime book stores and as the afternoon winds down we head to our day's final destination. We are blessed by the hospitality of Fay's good friend Pam. A warm and gracious hostess, she has opened her home completely to us for the next two nights as we connect with Halifax. And just for tonight, we won't even consider discussing the rest of the day's driving. Fay has held herself in complete control. The terror only showed in a few twitches of facial muscles and once when she scrabbled for imaginary safety handles that should have been mounted above the passenger door. Beyond that, I believe some things are best left unsaid. |
|
I have learned that it’s good for me to meditate on the Scriptures. I’m so much farther ahead than meditating on a map of This morning my brother and I drop the car off for an oil change and return to the apartment where Bro hands me the keys to his Cavalier without so much as a nervous twitch. Fay and I then proceed to seek out the stores on our list. While Second Showing (consignment clothing boutique) is not exactly a book oriented stop, we feel compelled to check it out. Strange thing is we have the chance to talk about our faith with the store owner—and she has brought it up. Her words are to the effect that. “If the other lady was here, she would laugh. She’s been telling me that God is trying to get my attention.” We marvel at his ability to put us where he wants us. Our next stop is at the Lighthouse book store in town and we chat about our various books with one of the sales clerks. He is a friendly and helpful man. Our next stop is at Chapters and another wonderful store manager who spends quite a bit of time discussing our books. From there, we stop for lunch. That’s when my phone rings. It’s my brother informing me that my car is ready. “Do you want me to come get you?” I had assumed that Bro would accompany me back to the mechanic’s to get my trusty tin can. “Just take Prospect left until you come to number seven. Take the Kimble off-ramp. You’ll remember the rest.” We zig zag our way to the mechanic and after another desperate phone call I find the place, leave Fay with my car and try to find my way back in the Cavalier. Fifteen minutes later as we cross the bridge toward Miramachi leaving As we pull into the parking lot of the condo, I realize that I don’t know where my phone is. “I likely left it in the apartment.” I say to myself as we take the elevator up. Nope. And it’s nowhere to be found. We have one more store to visit and I decide to forget about the phone until we get back. Our visit to the Olive Branch is awesome. I have a feeling that These few days have been well worth the visit as I reflect on the great people we’ve met, the family reunion we’ve been part of and the awesome food we’ve eaten. Speaking of food. Mr. Pugsley has made it quite plain that he will go to the highest bidder and since my sister-in-law owns the refrigerator, both Fay and I have lost his primary affections. Watching the sun setting in |
|
I'm a bit sad today. Fay has found a new friend here in New Brunswick and I'm feeling a bit of a third wheel. She met Mr. Pugsley the first day we were here but she didn't really catch his eye until yesterday when he decided she would make a lovely companion. Mr. Pugsley has those kind of eyes that just make you melt so I really can't blame Fay. I have to admit that his sleek black hair trimmed with that tidy silver does kind of catch my eye too but I have resisted his bold advances. Fay continues to act with the utmost decorum but I know she's weakening in the light of his obvious charms. It's probably a good thing we're leaving Fredericton Tuesday morning or Fay might just find herself overcome. Oh. Didn't I tell you? Mr. Pugsley's a dog.
This morning we went to church at Rusagonis Baptist Church. No it isn't pronounced Russ-a-goan-us. It's Rush-a-gorn-ush. I have an inkling that perhaps New Brunswick has invented its own alphabet but that's just a theory. Rev. MacDonald and his congregation welcomed us with open arms and we enjoyed wonderful music and a thought provoking sermon about showing God our love through worship. My brother decided to cook lunch for us. I like how my brother cooks lunch. We drive to Porter's Diner, slap our behinds down into a booth and feast on burgers and fries. Oh! And pie:) Now one would think that because it's Sunday and we car pooled in my sister-in-law's van that I wouldn't have any stories about my directional driving challenges to share. Not so! I, in my naivety thought a trip to Rusagonis to visit my other brother would be a piece of cake. I can't help but think that when a sign says 'Rusagonis' and it points down a road in a very definite direction that one would find Rusagonis on that road. I drove the full length of the road marked 'Rusagonis' and found nothing. Turning around, I could only assume that the road labelled 'Waasis' was where I wanted to go. Taking that route, I found the bridge and intersection that is the centre of Rusagonis. Sigh. I spent the afternoon enjoying a visit and Fay enjoyed an afternoon recovering from my ADHD-driven pace over the past three days. Mr. Pugsley was quite put out that Fay didn't invite him to snuggle alongside her. He'll get over it. |
(Mr. Pugsley is so enamoured that he grovels at Fay's feet given the chance)|
Saturday, May 24, 2008
We crawl out of bed this morning, drunk with the after affects of the most amazing Greek food I have ever eaten. While consuming quantities of garlic and feta isn’t exactly the wisest thing to do just before a home schooling conference, it is, nevertheless a practice that we managed to suffer through with great dignity last night. Fay and I have come to the realization that wrong turns are going to be the norm on this trip. Starting out headed east (at least the direction was right) we somehow manage to get off the Trans Canada onto the old highway to “Excuse me, sir?” Fay calls out. “Is the Trans The man, decked out in flannel and a battered ball cap looks one way down the street and then the other. Upon gaining his bearings, he smiles. “You go back over the bridge and look for the sign that says We gush our thanks, fill up the gas tank and head toward the We arrive to a packed parking lot and are surprised to find that the vendor’s hall is still being set up. Sometimes wrong turns can be right turns after all. Because of our initial wrong turn we got a tank of gas for a cheaper price than what was posted along the Trans Canada, met a very nice, friendly local, and didn’t have to sit for an extra hour or so in the vendor hall twiddling our thumbs. We decide to abandon the hall for our fill up of Tim Horton’s coffee. My brief moment of embarrassment comes as I try to dry my hands with the air dryer in the bathroom. I hate air dryers. They never work and you end up having to wipe your hands on your clothes anyway. My daughter once had a wonderful solution. “Just wipe your hands on the bottom of your pant legs.” And so after tolerating a few minutes of fruitless hot air, I perform the mild calisthenics needed to wipe my hands on my pant legs, leave the bathroom and order my coffee as I wait for Fay to exit the washroom. Thinking I just have to share my daughter’s ingenious solution with Fay, I explain what I had done. Fay barks out a short laugh. “You could have just turned around and used the paper towel.” We set up our table at the conference and enjoy a morning of chatter with the patrons. Fay decides after all that my daughter’s bathroom advice is a valuable piece of information when she discovers that the conference hall bathroom has neither paper towel nor air dryer.
Fay and I decide on as we journey on our path home that perhaps we hadn’t heard God’s voice when we had made the decision to go to the conference. This begins an in depth discussion about what it means to hear God’s voice and how it is heard. In view of the circumstances that follow, I am a believer that God jockeys between simple things like road signs and unexplainable things like finding your way to your accommodations without having a clue where you are. As we tour down the Trans Canada we are faced with a quandary—and a lesson. Never base your directions on land marks when you are dealing with the Trans Canada. We had. Two giant bright blue water towers that straddle the highway were to be our beacon announcing our exit but as we approach a fork in the road offering a choice between Edmunston and Fredericton/Mirimachi we don’t see our blue sentinels. What to do? As I bomb down the pavement, my hand clamps onto Fay’s arm and I beg. “Which turn do we take? I don’t see the towers.” Before she can answer we sail on past the So here we sit, recovering from yet another directionally challenged day and wondering what will cross our paths tomorrow. Sheesh! I’m ready for sleep.
|
|
We started out this morning into the bright sunshine in spite of the forecast for rain. It’s amazing how different things can look after a good night’s sleep. My car no longer resembles something dragged from the dungeons of the Spanish inquisition but is once more that ‘luxury vehicle’. Give it a few miles and I might change my opinion again. And, no, Glen, Fay has not tried to climb out the passenger window once—well ok maybe once. Or twice.
While we didn’t quite make it to Riviere du Loup, we were close enough to allow a leisurely cruise through eastern My instructions said to follow the Hanwell ramp to the right—after we veered left toward
“Did we miss the Fredericton/Moncton split? I didn’t see it.” “We must have.” I replied with that same nervous vocal tone. “But I didn’t see it either.” We looked at the walls of rock that edged both sides of the Trans Canada and knew that we’d have to drive to the next exit to turn around. Damping down on the panic we rationalized our solutions to each other, deciding that it wouldn’t be such a big deal to have to back-track to the Hanwell exit. And then off in the distance a large blue sign broadcast words that set us to laughing. It was the Fredericton/Moncton split. We hadn’t missed it after all. |
|
We have begun our great journey--Fay and I--and bemoaned Ruth's absence. We are praying for you Ruth and Paul and family! It began with a dip into the early morning chill as we packed Fay's books (mine were done two days ago), prepared the last breakfast for hubby (he is on his own for a week and a half) and eased the car from the driveway. Toronto was a breeze. We almost passed through unaware with our conversation and the light traffic distracting us. And then came Montreal. Whoever decided that three lanes of concrete hovering over the city's core was an efficient way to move traffic didn't think about all the feeder lanes that would cling to it like the tentacles of a mutated octopus. We spent almost two hours inching along that cement prison and commented more than once that we could walk faster. We finally came to the conclusion that God was teaching us patience. As evening approached so did our pursuit of the right hotel for the night. The first one was offered at $99.99 which at first glance seemed to me not a bad deal. But Fay--mighty warrior of negotiations--said not so. She inspected the room--and we held our breaths to keep the cigarette smoke out of our lungs. A definite 'no'. Our next one was a better room and a cheaper fare but still the smoke. At this point Fay was ready for battle and I was ready for bed. Like a hound with a bone we pursued the ultimate accomodations and by 8:30 had secured a lovely place for relatively the same cost of our first stop. Fay, have I told you that you're my hero? Goodnight and talk to you all tomorrow. |
|
Deuteronomy 1:1-10: These are the words Moses spoke to all Israel in the desert east of the Jordan--that is, in the Arabah--opposite Suph, between Paran and Tophel, Laban, Hazeroth and Dizahab. (It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.) In the fortieth year, on the first day of the eleventh month, Moses proclaimed to the Israelites all that the LORD had commanded him concerning them. This was after he had defeated Sihon king of the Amorites, who reigned in Heshbon, and at Edrei had defeated Og king of Bashan, who reigned in Ashtaroth. East of the Jordan in the territory of Moab, Moses began to expound this law, saying: The LORD our God said to us at Horeb, "You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Break camp and advance into the hill country of the Amorites; go to all the neighboring peoples in the Arabah, in the mountains, in the western foothills, in the Negev and along the coast, to the land of the Canaanites and to Lebanon, as far as the great river, the Euphrates. See, I have given you this land. Go in and take possession of the land that the LORD swore he would give to your fathers--to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob--and to their descendants after them." At that time I said to you, "You are too heavy a burden for me to carry alone. The LORD you God has increased your numbers so that today you are as many as the stars in the sky. Psalm 88:1-5: O LORD, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you. May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry. For my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave. I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like a man without strength. I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care. Jeremiah 12:6-10: Your brothers, your own family--even they have betrayed you; they have raised a loud cry against you. Do not trust them, though they speak well of you. "I will forsake my house, abandon my inheritance; I will give the one I love into the hands of her enemies. My inheritance has become to me like a lion in the forest. She roars at me; therefore I hate her. Has not my inheritandce become to me like a speckled bird of prey that other birds of prey surround and attack? Go and gather all the wild beasts; bring them to devour. Many shepherds will ruin my vineyard and trample down my field; they will turn my pleasant field into a desolate wasteland. Mark 8:31-38: He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. "Get behind me, Satan!" he said. "You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men." Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels." |
|
As I dug into the one hundred and fifty six pages of Whispers that Delight by Andrew T. Hawkins I very quickly discovered the reason for it being shortlisted in the Word Alive Press non-fiction annual best book contest. This practical guide to prayer has plunged deep into the theological truths of communication with God. Reverend Hawkins begins his teachings by pointing out the need for structure. Using his own life’s experiences he shows us how structure can build the foundation for a true and pure connection with our Lord. He strips away the fallacy that we must always feel good feelings and that joy and happiness are always the end result of prayer. And in this stripping away, he replaces old notions with new ones that force us to recognize that prayer is often an act of will. Yet Reverend Hawkins doesn’t stop there. He points out that by activating our wills, we take the focus off of ourselves and put it onto Christ and his attributes. It is then that we experience the joy that scripture promises when coming before God. Whispers that Delight teaches us how to praise without the feeling of dreary repetition. We are shown the value of confession—what it is and how it can benefit our walk with God. Reverend Hawkins opens our eyes to the difference between shame and guilt and the power of Christ’s atonement. He clarifies the oft misused phrase of ‘coming before the throne of God with boldness’. Through stories drawn from history, we learn how to become attentive to God’s voice and we discover that God truly is a speaking God though his voice can be heard in so many different ways. This book reveals much in the way of practical application as it offers suggestions on scriptural meditation and response. We are made aware of the tug of will and desire and taught how to combat our temptations with our petitions and praise. Reverend Hawkins closes down the book with two wonderful chapters. Chapter Seven calls us to respond to our Lord more and more as true and pure lovers and Chapter Eight brings us to the end result of an effective prayer life—joy. He teaches us in this final group of sentences that true joy is the longing for God’s presence and the thrill of basking in that presence. Whispers that Delight is a book that should be used in any theological seminary but it isn’t limited to the intense study group. By reading this book, I find myself seeking God’s voice in areas I never thought to look and that makes this book a must for anyone seeking God. |
|
Having won the Canadian Christian Writing Awards award of merit, Keturah Leonforde's book Reflections from the Waiting Room was a perfectly timed read for me. We all have those moments. You know. Life stops with a hard thud and forces us to wait upon the Lord. We can wait gracefully or we can wait like impatient little children on Christmas Eve. We may wait for a day or for years. But we all have our turn at waiting. Having recently lost my mother to cancer, I am no stranger to the waiting room experience. I will likely continue to have etched in my mind the sense of timelessness, the sterile look of the room, the feeling of uselessness and helplessness. Keturah has captured all of those feelings in her journey through the Bible. She challenges us, in her study book, to make a choice. Will we whine in our waiting room like Abram did when he complained to God about his childless state? Or will we persevere like Caleb who was one of two of the original Israelites who got to see the promised land? Leonforde draws from a large cast of characters who were forced to wait upon the Lord and it is through this insightful book that I am challenged to wait in silence and thanksgiving. This is a wonderful book for adults of all ages and all walks of life. |
|
In Fay Rowe's non-fiction book What's in A Name (Word Alive Press) I was forced to re-think my views on faith. Laid out in a study book format, Fay, in this Canadian Christian Writing Awards finalist winner, hooks the reader in with a very simple Bible verse; Psalm 138:2. Rowe shares intimate struggles in her life and how they forced her to study--not just read--God's word. Fighting physical challenges, she is forced to apply her years as a teacher to her desire as a believer in order to know God's will. Through her study, she discovers an earth shaking truth. God can not lie. He has made promises and He can not lie. Fay forces the reader to look at the bald truth of Christianity--the lack of faith in the church, the lack of trust in God's character, the fear to put His word to the test. She shares personal triumphs as she opens our eyes to the 'why' behind Abraham's willingness to offer his son, David's lack of fear before Goliath, Shadrak, Meshack and Abendigo's resolve to face the flames of the furnace. And she shows how God's truth declares that it is possible for us to follow in their faith steps. This is a book that all churches should incorporate into their teaching. In doing so, we could potentially see revival in North America--and the world. |