Jeremy Camp--The Way
I absolutely love this song. I've heard it off and on the past couple of weeks and it has stuck in my head so that I'm singing it each morning when I get up. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day: The Sacrifice of One by Igniter Media
Thank you to all who HAVE served, and ARE serving our country to protect our freedom. I know that freedom is not free, and that the true heroes are the ones who are willing to die for someone they've never even met. Thank you for your sacrifices!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Unbridled Hope (Book #3 in the Lone Star Legends series) by Loree Lough
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Unbridled Hope (Book Three in the Lone Star Legends Series)
Whitaker House (July 5, 2011)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Loree Lough is a well-known, beloved Christian romance writer with nearly three million books in circulation. She's released 78 books, including one that's been optioned for a TV movie, 68 short stories, and over 2,500 articles. A tireless advocate of Christian fiction, she's recognized as a leader in the genre and spends time mentoring aspiring writers. She's also a sought-after speaker who encourages audiences with her comedic learned-the-hard-way lessons about writing and life. Loree and her husband Larry have four daughters and seven grandchildren. They split their time between Baltimore and their cabin in the Allegheny Mountains. An avid advocate for endangered species, Loree supports The Wolf Sanctuary of Pennsylvania and other worthy causes close to her heart including The Wounded Warriors Project and The Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Callie Roberts' life is turned upside down when her parents, older brother, and fiancé are killed in a steamboat boiler explosion that leaves her younger brother deaf. Callie survives with a scar from cheek to chin that serves as a daily haunting reminder of the tragedy for which she's partly to blame. Hoping to put the past behind her, Callie moves to Eagle Pass, Texas, launches a successful business, and meets local rancher Micah Neville who is embroiled in a different kind of family drama. In an attempt to protect his cousin's honor, Micah returns from what he told others was a business trip to San Antonio, with a baby boy in tow. He handles the gossip just fine, especially when Callie volunteers to help -- and manages to capture his heart.Product Details:
List Price: $9.99
Paperback: 350 pages
Publisher: Whitaker House (July 5, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1603742271
ISBN-13: 978-1603742276
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
December 1887
On the Brazos River near Sweetwater, Texas
Raw, unrelenting wind whistled across the deck boards, scattering newspapers and rattling the cleats as the steamboat chugged toward its next major stop, Clear Fork. Callie cupped her elbows, wishing she’d thought to grab her shawl. She’d never liked weather like this, for it reminded her too much of the bitter Baltimore winter of ’85 that had nearly killed her mother and had prompted her father’s decision to move the family west. Ever since, Callie had begun every day with a prayer for her mother and ended by asking God to ease the ache of homesickness.
In time, the Lord had answered her first prayer, restoring her mother to robust health. The second He’d granted in the form of a young seminary graduate who’d been hired to entertain guests with the soothing sonatas of Beethoven and Bach. And, just as the sunshine dispels the nippy mists from the river, the music of Seth’s love had turned her longing for Maryland into a dim yet melodious memory.
Tonight, her beloved beau would give his final performance for the tycoons, high rollers, and politicians who gathered nightly in the grand salon. His final because, in twelve short hours, Callie’s father, a chaplain and owner of the Maybelline, would pronounce him and Callie man and wife.
Heart throbbing with hope and excitement, she hurried toward the jackstay, the secret meeting place where Seth had first confessed his love. Her fingers throbbed, too, from sewing fifty-two satin-covered buttons up the back of her full-skirted gown and from attaching a feathered headdress to her long, lacy veil. Callie smiled, knowing the discomfort would vanish the instant she saw Seth smiling at her from the makeshift altar where he would become her husband.
Sadly, the gown would not fit inside her valise. What a pity she wouldn’t be able to save her beautiful dress for the daughters she and Seth might have! She imagined a bright-eyed young woman with her papa’s dark eyes and her mama’s diminutive stature, walking down the center aisle toward her intended in the little church in Eagle Pass, Texas, where Seth’s dream of shepherding a flock of his own would come true, and he would eventually unite his own daughter with her soul mate.
Still, she took comfort in knowing that her hours of hard work had not been in vain. She said a little prayer for the senator’s wife, who’d agreed to pay a handsome sum for the gown and veil—and for Callie’s eternal silence. “Lord, help the poor woman keep secret the fact that her daughter will be married in a used—”
“Talking to yourself again?”
She stifled a tiny squeal. “Jonah Everett Roberts, you frightened me half to death!” How a boy of her brother’s height and weight managed to sneak up on her at least once a day, she’d never know. Raising one eyebrow, she rested a fist on her hip. “Say, what are you doing out here, anyway? Didn’t I hear Papa ask you to sweep out the saloon?”
He frowned. “I’m waiting for the green flash,” he said, taking a bite of an apple.
Not that again, she thought. “Well,” she said on a sigh, “if that’s the cause for the holdup, you’ll never get the job done, because the sun went down more than an hour ago.”
“Humpf. Leave it to little miss stick-in-the-mud to spoil the moment for a boy.”
“Boy, indeed. Papa says when he was sixteen, he worked as hard as any man on the family farm, and that his folks never had to remind him to do his chores.”
Jonah swallowed a mouthful of fruit. “Yeah, and he also says that if I’m patient, I’ll see the green flash, eventually.”
Callie couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard the same assurance. In fact, she’d heard so much about the elusive emerald flare, which was visible only under precise atmospheric conditions as the sun disappeared into the horizon, that she’d wished a time or two for the patience to believe in the phenomenon, herself.
But wishing wouldn’t get her any closer to the jackstay and her darling Seth. “Your tactic might work on Mama and Tim,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove, “but I see it for what it is: a ‘clever’ way to shirk your responsibility—”
A thunderous roar set the deck to quaking beneath their feet. Please, Lord, not the boilers! she thought as a second deafening blast threw her and Jonah to the floor. Instinct made her grab his collar and drag him under a heavy table, where she covered their heads with a tablecloth. Shards of glass and splinters of wood rained down as a third explosion rocked the steamer.
Choking smoke closed in around them as flecks of glowing ash floated down like fiery snowflakes. With its shallow keel and inch-thin hull, the Maybelline’s flimsy design assured swift river travel—and guaranteed that it would sink swiftly, too.
If that happened, it would be her fault.
If only she’d stoked the boilers like she was supposed to, instead of handing the job over to Tim! She’d seen the vacant “I don’t understand” stare in her older brother’s eyes enough times to recognize it for what it was, yet she’d ignored it to gain a few minutes more with Seth.
Callie scrambled forward with one objective: to make sure that Tim, her parents, and her beloved Seth had survived.
“Wait!” Jonah hollered.
“You’re safer right here,” she said, meeting his frightened eyes. “I know you’re scared, Jonah. I’m scared, too.” Using a corner of her apron, she dabbed at the blood dribbling from both of his ears. “But you need to stay here, before you’re hurt even worse.” She gave him a little shake. “If the steamer starts taking on water, I want you to make your way to the riverbank. Once you’re there, find the biggest tree and stay put. Do you understand?”
His confused expression mirrored the one that had long seemed frozen to Tim’s face. But their older brother had been slow from the day he was born, unlike Jonah, who could solve arithmetic problems without the aid of slate and chalk. She blamed Jonah’s expression on fear and scrambled to her feet. Why did both her brothers turn to her for comfort and support, when she was younger than both of them?
On the heels of a frustrated sigh, she scooted out from under the table. “Lord, watch over him,” she prayed as she raced along, darting between rivers of blue-orange fire that snaked and coiled across the deck and dodging the witch-finger flames that flared from each cabin window. When a fierce groan sounded from above, she crooked her elbow to protect her eyes and looked up. The breath caught in her throat when she saw the tallest of the three fat smokestacks teeter as it gave way to the gluttonous fire monster gnawing at its wooden moorings.
Callie barely gathered her wits in time to sidestep it. If only she’d thought to gather her skirts, too. The heel of her boot caught on a fold of muslin, slowing her escape by a mere fraction of a second. She was already falling when a grapefruit-sized lump of glowing coal slammed into her right temple.
“Sweet Jesus,” she prayed as dizziness overwhelmed her “Keep…them all…safe.”
For the second time in as many minutes, her prayer was interrupted, as she slipped into the dark unconscious.
Two years later~October 2, 1889
The Lazy N Ranch, Eagle Pass, Texas
The sweet-smelling envelope was addressed to “M. Neville.” At least, that’s what Micah had thought at first glance. But the message inside the envelope didn’t make a lick of sense. So, he studied the addressee a second time, and a third, before realizing that the fanciful M was, instead, a D. Guilt at reading his cousin’s mail was quickly overshadowed by concern at the nature of the message. Dan had already lived two lifetimes’ worth of misery in his twenty-eight years.
Micah shook his head and said a silent prayer for Dan, who’d shouldered a burden of self-blame ever since his twin sister had died tragically at the age of thirteen, even though nobody held him responsible. Guilt and remorse, along with the whiskey used to numb the emotional pain of his loss and the physical torment of a bum leg suffered in a stampede, had managed to turn the once shy, gentle boy into a man hell-bent on self-destruction and prone to angry brawls. About once a year, Dan had summoned the strength to shake his addiction, but, all too soon, self-loathing would lure him back to the bottle. Fourteen months into the latest stint of sobriety, Micah had begun to notice signs that made him fear things were about to take another ugly turn, but then, praise God, Levee O’Reilly had come to town as the new schoolteacher. She’d taught her students reading, writing, and arithmetic, all the while teaching Dan to value his own life.
The two had married, and their relationship seemed solid and strong. But now, something like this? Micah glared at the single sheet of scented ivory paper on which, with a few well-chosen words, the writer had implied a dozen sinister things, any one of which could start the dominos toppling in Dan’s life yet again.
Slumping onto the edge of his bed, Micah read the letter a fourth time. Maybe he’d underestimated his cousin’s ability to stand strong, even in the face of this woman’s spiteful threats. He had a lot more to live for now, though. Maybe this woman wanted to destroy him, once and for all.
Micah would not take that chance. For one thing, Dan had always been his favorite cousin—a statement in itself, since there were dozens in the Neville clan. For another, Dan had protected him more times than Micah could count. As a youngster, he’d been puny and timid and had spoken with a lisp, just the sort of stuff that invited the taunts of the bigger, older boys. But, without fail, Dan would always put a stop to it.
Eventually, Micah’s front teeth had grown together, eliminating the lisp, and his body had grown, too. At six feet three inches, and with two hundred and twenty pounds of raw muscle, Micah’s size alone would have discouraged any bully. But by the time the Neville men had embarked on the trail drive of ’86, Dan’s determination to defend Micah had become so ingrained that he hadn’t thought twice about maneuvering his horse between his cousin and a bevy of gun-blasting rustlers. Dan had laughed off the bullet in his shoulder in exactly the same way he’d laughed off every swollen knuckle, bloodied lip, and black eye endured to protect Micah. “You’ve done me a favor, cousin,” he’d said, gritting his teeth as Cookie dug out the slug, “because certain ladies like a man with scars!”
Had the author of this letter been one of those ladies?
Micah harrumphed. “A female, maybe, but I’d bet my horse she’s no lady.” Scooting closer to the night table, he turned up the lantern and leaned into the golden light to read those ominous closing lines yet again:
…at two o’clock on Friday afternoon, the fifteenth of October, I will be at the train station in San Antonio, Texas. If you choose not to meet me there, I shall have no alternative but to bring this very urgent matter to the attention of the authorities.
Most sincerely yours,
Pauline Eden Devereaux
“Urgent matter”? A dozen possible scenarios flashed in Micah’s brain, none of them good. Under ordinary circumstances, Dan wouldn’t squash a beetle under his boot, but there was nothing ordinary about the way his personality changed once a few pints of whiskey burned in his veins. If he was drinking when he ran into this woman….
Micah got to his feet and started pacing. He didn’t want to believe that Dan was guilty of any offense. The more likely story, he told himself, was that this Pauline character had gotten wind of how many acres made up the Lazy N Ranch and hoped to weasel a few hundred dollars in exchange for her silence about whatever matter she seemed to believe might interest the authorities. And, since the family never discussed their troubles beyond the closed door of Uncle Matthew’s office, she had no way of knowing how steeply their profits had dropped due to anthrax, weevils, droughts, and storms.
There was only one way to know for sure, and that was to take a trip to San Antonio to meet this femme flimflammer face-to-face. He didn’t know what excuse he’d cook up to put himself there, or how he’d squash her scam, but Micah knew this much: he intended to defend Dan for a change.
On the Brazos River near Sweetwater, Texas
Raw, unrelenting wind whistled across the deck boards, scattering newspapers and rattling the cleats as the steamboat chugged toward its next major stop, Clear Fork. Callie cupped her elbows, wishing she’d thought to grab her shawl. She’d never liked weather like this, for it reminded her too much of the bitter Baltimore winter of ’85 that had nearly killed her mother and had prompted her father’s decision to move the family west. Ever since, Callie had begun every day with a prayer for her mother and ended by asking God to ease the ache of homesickness.
In time, the Lord had answered her first prayer, restoring her mother to robust health. The second He’d granted in the form of a young seminary graduate who’d been hired to entertain guests with the soothing sonatas of Beethoven and Bach. And, just as the sunshine dispels the nippy mists from the river, the music of Seth’s love had turned her longing for Maryland into a dim yet melodious memory.
Tonight, her beloved beau would give his final performance for the tycoons, high rollers, and politicians who gathered nightly in the grand salon. His final because, in twelve short hours, Callie’s father, a chaplain and owner of the Maybelline, would pronounce him and Callie man and wife.
Heart throbbing with hope and excitement, she hurried toward the jackstay, the secret meeting place where Seth had first confessed his love. Her fingers throbbed, too, from sewing fifty-two satin-covered buttons up the back of her full-skirted gown and from attaching a feathered headdress to her long, lacy veil. Callie smiled, knowing the discomfort would vanish the instant she saw Seth smiling at her from the makeshift altar where he would become her husband.
Sadly, the gown would not fit inside her valise. What a pity she wouldn’t be able to save her beautiful dress for the daughters she and Seth might have! She imagined a bright-eyed young woman with her papa’s dark eyes and her mama’s diminutive stature, walking down the center aisle toward her intended in the little church in Eagle Pass, Texas, where Seth’s dream of shepherding a flock of his own would come true, and he would eventually unite his own daughter with her soul mate.
Still, she took comfort in knowing that her hours of hard work had not been in vain. She said a little prayer for the senator’s wife, who’d agreed to pay a handsome sum for the gown and veil—and for Callie’s eternal silence. “Lord, help the poor woman keep secret the fact that her daughter will be married in a used—”
“Talking to yourself again?”
She stifled a tiny squeal. “Jonah Everett Roberts, you frightened me half to death!” How a boy of her brother’s height and weight managed to sneak up on her at least once a day, she’d never know. Raising one eyebrow, she rested a fist on her hip. “Say, what are you doing out here, anyway? Didn’t I hear Papa ask you to sweep out the saloon?”
He frowned. “I’m waiting for the green flash,” he said, taking a bite of an apple.
Not that again, she thought. “Well,” she said on a sigh, “if that’s the cause for the holdup, you’ll never get the job done, because the sun went down more than an hour ago.”
“Humpf. Leave it to little miss stick-in-the-mud to spoil the moment for a boy.”
“Boy, indeed. Papa says when he was sixteen, he worked as hard as any man on the family farm, and that his folks never had to remind him to do his chores.”
Jonah swallowed a mouthful of fruit. “Yeah, and he also says that if I’m patient, I’ll see the green flash, eventually.”
Callie couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard the same assurance. In fact, she’d heard so much about the elusive emerald flare, which was visible only under precise atmospheric conditions as the sun disappeared into the horizon, that she’d wished a time or two for the patience to believe in the phenomenon, herself.
But wishing wouldn’t get her any closer to the jackstay and her darling Seth. “Your tactic might work on Mama and Tim,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove, “but I see it for what it is: a ‘clever’ way to shirk your responsibility—”
A thunderous roar set the deck to quaking beneath their feet. Please, Lord, not the boilers! she thought as a second deafening blast threw her and Jonah to the floor. Instinct made her grab his collar and drag him under a heavy table, where she covered their heads with a tablecloth. Shards of glass and splinters of wood rained down as a third explosion rocked the steamer.
Choking smoke closed in around them as flecks of glowing ash floated down like fiery snowflakes. With its shallow keel and inch-thin hull, the Maybelline’s flimsy design assured swift river travel—and guaranteed that it would sink swiftly, too.
If that happened, it would be her fault.
If only she’d stoked the boilers like she was supposed to, instead of handing the job over to Tim! She’d seen the vacant “I don’t understand” stare in her older brother’s eyes enough times to recognize it for what it was, yet she’d ignored it to gain a few minutes more with Seth.
Callie scrambled forward with one objective: to make sure that Tim, her parents, and her beloved Seth had survived.
“Wait!” Jonah hollered.
“You’re safer right here,” she said, meeting his frightened eyes. “I know you’re scared, Jonah. I’m scared, too.” Using a corner of her apron, she dabbed at the blood dribbling from both of his ears. “But you need to stay here, before you’re hurt even worse.” She gave him a little shake. “If the steamer starts taking on water, I want you to make your way to the riverbank. Once you’re there, find the biggest tree and stay put. Do you understand?”
His confused expression mirrored the one that had long seemed frozen to Tim’s face. But their older brother had been slow from the day he was born, unlike Jonah, who could solve arithmetic problems without the aid of slate and chalk. She blamed Jonah’s expression on fear and scrambled to her feet. Why did both her brothers turn to her for comfort and support, when she was younger than both of them?
On the heels of a frustrated sigh, she scooted out from under the table. “Lord, watch over him,” she prayed as she raced along, darting between rivers of blue-orange fire that snaked and coiled across the deck and dodging the witch-finger flames that flared from each cabin window. When a fierce groan sounded from above, she crooked her elbow to protect her eyes and looked up. The breath caught in her throat when she saw the tallest of the three fat smokestacks teeter as it gave way to the gluttonous fire monster gnawing at its wooden moorings.
Callie barely gathered her wits in time to sidestep it. If only she’d thought to gather her skirts, too. The heel of her boot caught on a fold of muslin, slowing her escape by a mere fraction of a second. She was already falling when a grapefruit-sized lump of glowing coal slammed into her right temple.
“Sweet Jesus,” she prayed as dizziness overwhelmed her “Keep…them all…safe.”
For the second time in as many minutes, her prayer was interrupted, as she slipped into the dark unconscious.
Two years later~October 2, 1889
The Lazy N Ranch, Eagle Pass, Texas
The sweet-smelling envelope was addressed to “M. Neville.” At least, that’s what Micah had thought at first glance. But the message inside the envelope didn’t make a lick of sense. So, he studied the addressee a second time, and a third, before realizing that the fanciful M was, instead, a D. Guilt at reading his cousin’s mail was quickly overshadowed by concern at the nature of the message. Dan had already lived two lifetimes’ worth of misery in his twenty-eight years.
Micah shook his head and said a silent prayer for Dan, who’d shouldered a burden of self-blame ever since his twin sister had died tragically at the age of thirteen, even though nobody held him responsible. Guilt and remorse, along with the whiskey used to numb the emotional pain of his loss and the physical torment of a bum leg suffered in a stampede, had managed to turn the once shy, gentle boy into a man hell-bent on self-destruction and prone to angry brawls. About once a year, Dan had summoned the strength to shake his addiction, but, all too soon, self-loathing would lure him back to the bottle. Fourteen months into the latest stint of sobriety, Micah had begun to notice signs that made him fear things were about to take another ugly turn, but then, praise God, Levee O’Reilly had come to town as the new schoolteacher. She’d taught her students reading, writing, and arithmetic, all the while teaching Dan to value his own life.
The two had married, and their relationship seemed solid and strong. But now, something like this? Micah glared at the single sheet of scented ivory paper on which, with a few well-chosen words, the writer had implied a dozen sinister things, any one of which could start the dominos toppling in Dan’s life yet again.
Slumping onto the edge of his bed, Micah read the letter a fourth time. Maybe he’d underestimated his cousin’s ability to stand strong, even in the face of this woman’s spiteful threats. He had a lot more to live for now, though. Maybe this woman wanted to destroy him, once and for all.
Micah would not take that chance. For one thing, Dan had always been his favorite cousin—a statement in itself, since there were dozens in the Neville clan. For another, Dan had protected him more times than Micah could count. As a youngster, he’d been puny and timid and had spoken with a lisp, just the sort of stuff that invited the taunts of the bigger, older boys. But, without fail, Dan would always put a stop to it.
Eventually, Micah’s front teeth had grown together, eliminating the lisp, and his body had grown, too. At six feet three inches, and with two hundred and twenty pounds of raw muscle, Micah’s size alone would have discouraged any bully. But by the time the Neville men had embarked on the trail drive of ’86, Dan’s determination to defend Micah had become so ingrained that he hadn’t thought twice about maneuvering his horse between his cousin and a bevy of gun-blasting rustlers. Dan had laughed off the bullet in his shoulder in exactly the same way he’d laughed off every swollen knuckle, bloodied lip, and black eye endured to protect Micah. “You’ve done me a favor, cousin,” he’d said, gritting his teeth as Cookie dug out the slug, “because certain ladies like a man with scars!”
Had the author of this letter been one of those ladies?
Micah harrumphed. “A female, maybe, but I’d bet my horse she’s no lady.” Scooting closer to the night table, he turned up the lantern and leaned into the golden light to read those ominous closing lines yet again:
…at two o’clock on Friday afternoon, the fifteenth of October, I will be at the train station in San Antonio, Texas. If you choose not to meet me there, I shall have no alternative but to bring this very urgent matter to the attention of the authorities.
Most sincerely yours,
Pauline Eden Devereaux
“Urgent matter”? A dozen possible scenarios flashed in Micah’s brain, none of them good. Under ordinary circumstances, Dan wouldn’t squash a beetle under his boot, but there was nothing ordinary about the way his personality changed once a few pints of whiskey burned in his veins. If he was drinking when he ran into this woman….
Micah got to his feet and started pacing. He didn’t want to believe that Dan was guilty of any offense. The more likely story, he told himself, was that this Pauline character had gotten wind of how many acres made up the Lazy N Ranch and hoped to weasel a few hundred dollars in exchange for her silence about whatever matter she seemed to believe might interest the authorities. And, since the family never discussed their troubles beyond the closed door of Uncle Matthew’s office, she had no way of knowing how steeply their profits had dropped due to anthrax, weevils, droughts, and storms.
There was only one way to know for sure, and that was to take a trip to San Antonio to meet this femme flimflammer face-to-face. He didn’t know what excuse he’d cook up to put himself there, or how he’d squash her scam, but Micah knew this much: he intended to defend Dan for a change.
Dynamic Uno here: You know by now how much I love cowboys, so this book would be right up my alley (trail?). However, I haven't read any of the books in this series (yet), so you'll have to check it out and let me know what you think! Happy Reading!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The Trigger by Hon Hoh
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Living Impact (May 16, 2011)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Hon S. Hoh is a gifted teacher of the Word. He is a minister committed to the calling that God has placed on his life. He began studying the Book of Revelation in Bible college, and he is passionate about reaching people with the truth and love of Christ. Hoh has been a pastor in Australia for over ten years and is gifted in preaching, teaching, and visionary leadership. He is a graduate of the University of Melbourne (Psychology), the Swinburne Institute of Technology, the Bible College of Victoria, and the Harvest Bible College (M.A. Ministry). Hoh worked in the field of social welfare prior to entering pastoral ministries.
Hoh is the author of Risen Lamb, Empowered Saints: The Book of Revelation Made Easy (Maryland: McDougal Publishing, 2002). His latest book, The Trigger: A Novel on the Revelation, is based closely on the theology expressed in his first book.
Hoh is the founder and executive director of Living Impact Inc, a non-denominational Christian ministry with an emphasis on global missions. He founded the ministry to help fulfil the Great Commission in reaching some of the poorest and most unevangelized peoples of the world. Living Impact started at the turn of the century, in 1999.
Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Do each of us play a role in the kingdom of God? Can the choices we make affect God’s timing of future events? Hon Hoh examines these questions while taking his readers on a riveting adventure in The Trigger: A Novel on the Revelation. Through twists and turns, readers will be led on a powerful journey. The Trigger follows three individuals (a pastor, a spy, and a missionary) from three continents (the United States, China, and Australia) who find their lives merged in a single divine purpose: to win the last unreached people group on earth and usher in the Second Coming of Christ. They must succeed in order to release the trigger for the return of the Lamb as declared in Matthew 24:14.
In their way stands a legion of demonic principalities intent on destroying the plan. Against the backdrop of unprecedented persecution and the onslaught of cataclysmic events, they must remain steadfast in order to carry out the priority revealed to them by God. It is evident that no believer will escape the greatest tribulation in human history and that only the matchless return of the King can deliver mankind from evil’s reign.
The climactic battle between Good and Evil unfolds as Lucifer executes his definitive act of defiance: the global genocide of all Christians. With the sound of the trumpets reverberating throughout the heavens, the events that have been set in motion must now complete their course. Eternity and the fate of the earth are at stake, and there is no plan B.
Far more than just another End-Times novel and theologically distinct from the Left Behind series, Hoh will alter the way you see the world and prepare you for the future. This novel is based closely on Hoh’s theology expressed in his book Risen Lamb, Empowered Saints: The Book of Revelation Made Easy. Although the events described are entirely fictional, they are but one of many plausible scenarios in which the end could occur. Though these depictions may not arise for more than another hundred years, it is conceivable that they could begin to unfold within the next decade—or less.
Hoh has written a thought-provoking and exciting novel that looks at the events leading up to the Second Coming and challenges us all to follow the plans that Christ has for our lives.
Product Details:
List Price: $19.99
Paperback: 368 pages
Publisher: Living Impact (May 16, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0578071959
ISBN-13: 978-0578071954
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Josh felt exhilarated as he left the apartment of one of the five key leaders of the persecuted church in China. Preaching and teaching the scriptures was one of Josh’s greatest ministry gifts. A distinct and powerful anointing of the Spirit came upon him whenever he was engaged in the delivery of the Word of God. That was abundantly evident while he was speaking in the underground churches of Shanghai, China.
“Jai Jian—goodbye,” Josh blurted out awkwardly. They were about the only Chinese words he had managed to learn in the past three weeks.
“Tank you for being good blessing to our people,” said Tai, one of the leaders sending him off. “Soli we cannot go wit you to airport; it not safe for us to do that for long time now. Government eyes everywhere, you know.”
“I understand. God bless you, brothers.” Josh waved his final farewell as the yellow taxi drove slowly away.
Everything had gone remarkably smooth. Despite the heightened crackdown on underground churches in the past six months, he had not run into trouble with the Public Security Bureau. Around five hundred Han Chinese had made first-time decisions to follow Christ during the many evangelistic meetings in and around the Shanghai area. Josh’s teaching had been well received by congregations of all sizes, a few of which had as many as a thousand worshippers. The secret police had been well aware of those larger congregations for many years. According to the latest statistics, 48% of mainland Chinese professed to be Christian, but only 15% were registered with the government endorsed Three-Self Patriotic Church. The Communist Party was clearly worried.
The journey to Hongqiao Airport was relatively short; soon Josh was lining up to check in for his flight to Australia. He was looking forward to his stopover Down Under before traveling home. The queue was long, but Josh was relaxed, thankful that his Shanghai mission had gone so incredibly well. He had at least a dozen intriguing stories waiting to fascinate Beverly and Rebecca, the two most precious women in his life.
His moment of reverie was quickly interrupted by a loud squeal as a dark green van braked to a stop at the entrance of the airport. Within seconds, a group of uniformed police stormed in the double glass doors. Josh quickly counted—there were eight of them. He tried to convince himself that it was just a routine operation in communist China, especially with the ongoing international clampdown on terrorist suspects.
To his dismay, the officers were moving in his direction. As they approached the United Airlines counter, Josh instinctively looked away. Surely they can’t be searching for me. The commotion was drawing closer to where he stood. He could feel his heart begin to race.
Please, Lord, make them blind to my presence if it’s me they’re After.
He had barely completed his lightning prayer when he felt a firm tap on his shoulder.
“Are you Mr. McGuire?” One of the officers inquired.
“Why?”
“Show me passport.”
“Sure, but can you tell me what’s happening? I mean, is there a problem?” Josh handed the officer his American passport, trying to keep as calm as possible.
With barely a glance at the document, the officer announced, “Come wit us, Mr. McGuire.”
Grabbing his bags, Josh hoped they would ask him some questions at the airport, but they placed him in the police van instead and sped off, honking impatiently at the passersby.
“May I know where you’re taking me, please?”
“Headquarter.”
“The local police headquarters?”
“No. MSS.”
“Forgive my ignorance, sir, what is this MSS?”
“Ministry of State Security! No more questions.”
Josh’s heart immediately sank with that curt reply. The Ministry of State Security was the Chinese equivalent of the CIA, or worse, the Soviet KGB in the former USSR. Josh figured that he could be in serious trouble. What did they want from him? What if they were after the names of his contacts, or wanted him to divulge some incriminating evidence? What was he going to do? Josh slid his left hand slowly on top of his trouser pocket to make sure his cell was still there. Perhaps he should call the American Embassy, if they’ll even let him. At least he was assured of one
thing, folks at home were praying. Bev would be, no doubt about that. His staff, his elders, and his band of intercessors had also assured him of their daily prayers.
What’s your purpose for allowing this to happen, Lord? Strengthen me now that I may know and fulfill your will in this .Josh closed his eyes to focus on Jesus. It took a while for his heart to stop pounding. Gradually he began to sense the presence of God permeate his soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael was about to enter, then hesitated. The Twenty Four were in session, and he had no desire to interrupt. It was not that he was intimidated—the Twenty Four and the archangels had always gotten along perfectly well ever since the dawn of time, and angels have no human apprehensions—not archangels anyway. Like Michael, the twenty-four elders were spiritual beings of an exalted order, not humans, even though they were referred to as “elders” in that sacred scroll called the Apocalypse.
He knew the session they were having with the Lamb was of paramount importance. At the appropriate moment, Michael made an entrance into the throne room, kneeling before the King of Kings. He had always felt amazed before the presence of the Resurrected One. Since the ascension of Jesus over two thousand years ago, the splendor of the Lamb had never ceased to create a sense of awe and wonderment in him. The face of Jesus beamed with pure power, and His voice thundered mightier than Niagara Falls. The matchless Lamb of God was on the throne—the only one worthy to open the seven seals, slain in weakness yet risen with power. For centuries angels had striven to determine Yahweh’s plan of salvation, but they couldn’t—until the crucifixion and resurrection.
The Lamb stood to welcome Michael into the celestial council, and immediately the Twenty Four bowed in worship as Jesus rose to His feet. Michael could not get accustomed to that either.
The glorified Son of God, the Alpha and the Omega, approached to make him feel welcome while he elders knelt in meek reverence to the Almighty. Then again, the Ascended One did put His hand on old Apostle John, saying, “Do not be afraid,” when the beloved disciple first received the vision of Revelation. John was trembling with dread as any man would.
“Forgive me for interrupting, my LORD,” Michael said. “The accuser has come to make his demands once again.”
“We know what he wants,” one of the Twenty Four said.
Michael nodded. “Yes, he wants all restraints to be removed so that he can begin his vengeful and wicked scheme.”
“Tell the evil one,” Jesus said, “that Gabriel will be out of his way only at the appointed time. If he maneuvers for more information, you may reveal a little extra at your own discretion.”
“Yes, my LORD.” Michael took a bow to the Lamb and the elders before exiting the throne room. As he was leaving the chamber, he heard one of the spiritual beings ask, “While we are on the matter, LORD, may I inquire if our favored servant is on schedule?”
“Most definitely,” the Lamb said. “It is progressing exactly as I have anticipated; he truly does have an obedient heart.”
Michael smiled, and sped to his destination in a brilliant beam of light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
The interrogation room was bright and clinical. The entire building looked new, or at least recently renovated. In the middle of the room was a chrome rectangular table with a red chair on each side. The walls were painted stark white, with no sign of a two way mirror on any of them. The guards confiscated Josh’s phone and ordered him to sit and wait for the interrogating officer. He looked at his wristwatch; it was 10:15 A.M.
An hour later, the door swung open. Two sagacious-looking agents entered swiftly, files in hand. The female officer sat down without a word, studying the files. The silence was disquieting and deafening, with the only sound an antiquated Mandarin clock on the wall.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, on it went.
“Mr. McGuire, what have you been doing in Shanghai?” the woman finally asked.
“I came as a tourist. This is my first time in China.” Josh was relieved to tell the truth. He was touring the underground house churches and some Three-Self congregations, and he had ticked the ‘tourist’ box on the disembarkation form on arrival.
“Have you been visiting illegal churches?”
“Why do you ask?” Josh tried to give nothing away. Maybe they are only fishing for information, he hoped.
“We know you’ve been preaching Christianity at some illegal gatherings.”
Josh swallowed hard. “Have you been following me? Why is it illegal to worship God?”
The man who was standing next to the female officer weighed in, “We don’t want to waste your time, Mr. McGuire, and believe me, you don’t want to waste ours. Whether you get out of here in a matter of hours, days, or weeks is up to you. Just answer the questions.”
For a moment Josh was glad he didn’t say months or years.
“Who are your contacts for the house churches? We want all their names!”
Josh was silent. He could not give them the names of the underground leaders. It would implicate them, and they could be imprisoned for years as a result. Those flourishing house churches could be closed down forever. Josh did not want to jeopardize the work of God, no matter what they might do to him personally. He decided to keep quiet.
“Names, Mr. McGuire!”
Josh stared hard at the files on the table in front of him.
“Your contacts, McGuire, or you will know the true meaning of PAIN,” the male officer hollered, pounding the table with his huge palm.
Josh clasped his hands tight beneath the table and raised his eyes to bravely meet the agent’s.
The man swung his fist in a rapid move, striking Josh with the back of his knuckles. The blow landed hard upon his right cheek. He fell off his chair on to the floor, and bubbles of blood instantly oozed from his nose.
A solid kick directed firmly at the abdomen followed.
Josh gritted his teeth to endure the agony. He had never been punched or kicked by a grown man in his life. He’d had fights with others when he was a young boy, but that was long ago and far different.
“I…demand…to see the U.S. ambassador,” Josh managed to say, groaning as he sat up on the floor. “You…have no right to strike me…. I’m a citizen of the United States.”
“Sure, you can tell that to the chief when you see him!”
The two agents stormed out the room, infuriated by Josh’s refusal to cooperate.
Did he say the chief? That was probably the last person Josh wanted to see; he could imagine a three-headed beast coming to torture him. With his handkerchief, Josh wiped the blood off his nose. Oh, Lord Jesus, help me to fear nothing and no one. Help me to be your faithful witness, and when your purpose for this is completed, get me out of here.
There was nothing Josh could do in the interrogation room but wait, pray, and not allow his imagination to run wild with anxiety. He remembered the strong anticipation he’d had for this trip and the thrill he’d felt at the airport before boarding. For a long time, particularly after the much-needed renovation, JFK has been his favorite airport. Actually, he had quite enjoyed visiting international airports around the world. This in spite of September Eleventh, which had taken place thirty-one years ago. Airports had not been quite the same since; for some, flying had permanently lost its appeal, with pleasure being replaced by apprehension and in some cases loathing because of those obtrusive security checks. The same couldn’t be said for Josh, though. Perhaps it still gave him
a sense of adventure—the restaurants and cafes, the bookstores, the movement of different people, planes taking off, each stirring within him a feeling of embarking toward something exciting.
It was often hard saying goodbye for the pastor and his wife, even if it was only for four weeks. One month could seem like a long time, and it sure did feel that way for Josh and Bev, particularly for this trip. He was travelling to a “closed” country on a mission, ministering and preaching at different underground churches. In the continuing era of international terrorism, he knew how difficult it would be for Bev not to worry about this particular mission of his. But her faith in God’s willingness and capacity to protect His own in any and every circumstance had rarely wavered over the years.
Josh remembered Rebecca, who’d been waiting ruefully at the front door, looking a little sad but eager to give Josh her warmest goodbye hug. “Go give them all you’ve got, Dad. I’ll be waging war on your behalf 24-7, both mom and I.” She’d given him the tightest bear squeeze a teenager can muster.
“I know you will, my panda bear. And you’ll look after mom for me, won’t you?”
He used to call her panda bear when she was little. He would never forget that cherished occasion when Rebecca was just four years old. She was playing in bed with both him and Bev when he cuddled her gently and asked, “Will you still be my panda bear when you grow up?”
“Yes, a BIG ONE!” was her spontaneous reply. They all broke into laughter. It was one of those precious moments enshrined forever in his memory. Now she was sixteen, and exceedingly pretty with her mesmerizing blue eyes.
Josh recalled giving Bev a long caress. “The Lord is with you as always, my dear, so there’s nothing to fear. Love you heaps.”
“We’ll be fine, hon, don’t worry about us. I’ll be praying hard for you. Hurry on now, Bill’s been out there a long time.”
Senator Bill Davies had been patiently waiting in his white limousine for Josh to say his good-byes. He usually insisted on chauffeuring his pastor to JFK, knowing that Bev didn’t fancy the 90-minute drive.
“Love ’em lots, don’t you? Gonna miss them, I bet?” the Senator had said when Josh climbed into the back seat.
“Nah! Not much,” Josh had joked, half-smiling, staring blankly out the tinted window.
“You’re a great pastor, Josh, and you have a wonderful relationship with Bev and Rebecca. Everyone in the church knows that. But tell me, why do you do this?”
“Do what, pal?”
“Go preaching to these dangerous and peculiar places.”
“Compelled to.”
“Just make sure we don’t have to send in our Special Forces to get you out of the ‘Middle Kingdom,’ okay?”
“Oh, I won’t bother; God has already sent His units ahead of me. Your guys are no match for His.”
The Senator had smiled and nodded. “Dead right there.”
Given what had just transpired in the last four hours, Josh sure hoped Bill wouldn’t have to stage a rescue from Shanghai.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
The Prince of Darkness had been pacing restlessly. His hollow eyes revealed nothing except a pit of venomous hatred stretching back through eternity. “What took you so long? Did He just delay you as usual?” The voice of Satan, once called Lucifer, was deep and demeaning.
“Keep your sarcasm to yourself,” Michael commanded, unfazed by Satan’s provocation, though saddened at the sight of such insatiable evil. “You shall not begin global persecution of the faithful until the time foreordained by the LORD God Almighty. Gabriel will not be out of your way until then.”
“Spare me your totalitarian autocratic babble. Tell me when that time is.”
“When the designated one is born again—”
“And who might that be?”
“You know.”
“I see. You mean the one whom my foot soldier has been pestering the last few years. Why is that pathetic, insignificant soul so important?”
“The LORD rebukes you, Satan. I do not want to see your face here ag—”
“Oh, you surely will. Just let Him know that I have the right to begin implementing my great plan for the earth when the hour arrives. I will not wait for even half a second longer.”
As the devil swept out on his scheming way, Gabriel appeared alongside Michael. His being emitted a pure, shimmering glow, much like his comrade except for a tint of sapphire.
“The Day is drawing very near indeed,” Gabriel said.
“You are right, my friend. The Great Commission has made outstanding progress over the past two decades. The gospel of our LORD has touched almost every people of every nation.”
“Only one city and one group remain…our very last bastion.”
“Hmm. The final frontier...”
From an enormous distance, they were taking an extended gaze at the Earth.
She was exceptionally beautiful.
“Jai Jian—goodbye,” Josh blurted out awkwardly. They were about the only Chinese words he had managed to learn in the past three weeks.
“Tank you for being good blessing to our people,” said Tai, one of the leaders sending him off. “Soli we cannot go wit you to airport; it not safe for us to do that for long time now. Government eyes everywhere, you know.”
“I understand. God bless you, brothers.” Josh waved his final farewell as the yellow taxi drove slowly away.
Everything had gone remarkably smooth. Despite the heightened crackdown on underground churches in the past six months, he had not run into trouble with the Public Security Bureau. Around five hundred Han Chinese had made first-time decisions to follow Christ during the many evangelistic meetings in and around the Shanghai area. Josh’s teaching had been well received by congregations of all sizes, a few of which had as many as a thousand worshippers. The secret police had been well aware of those larger congregations for many years. According to the latest statistics, 48% of mainland Chinese professed to be Christian, but only 15% were registered with the government endorsed Three-Self Patriotic Church. The Communist Party was clearly worried.
The journey to Hongqiao Airport was relatively short; soon Josh was lining up to check in for his flight to Australia. He was looking forward to his stopover Down Under before traveling home. The queue was long, but Josh was relaxed, thankful that his Shanghai mission had gone so incredibly well. He had at least a dozen intriguing stories waiting to fascinate Beverly and Rebecca, the two most precious women in his life.
His moment of reverie was quickly interrupted by a loud squeal as a dark green van braked to a stop at the entrance of the airport. Within seconds, a group of uniformed police stormed in the double glass doors. Josh quickly counted—there were eight of them. He tried to convince himself that it was just a routine operation in communist China, especially with the ongoing international clampdown on terrorist suspects.
To his dismay, the officers were moving in his direction. As they approached the United Airlines counter, Josh instinctively looked away. Surely they can’t be searching for me. The commotion was drawing closer to where he stood. He could feel his heart begin to race.
Please, Lord, make them blind to my presence if it’s me they’re After.
He had barely completed his lightning prayer when he felt a firm tap on his shoulder.
“Are you Mr. McGuire?” One of the officers inquired.
“Why?”
“Show me passport.”
“Sure, but can you tell me what’s happening? I mean, is there a problem?” Josh handed the officer his American passport, trying to keep as calm as possible.
With barely a glance at the document, the officer announced, “Come wit us, Mr. McGuire.”
Grabbing his bags, Josh hoped they would ask him some questions at the airport, but they placed him in the police van instead and sped off, honking impatiently at the passersby.
“May I know where you’re taking me, please?”
“Headquarter.”
“The local police headquarters?”
“No. MSS.”
“Forgive my ignorance, sir, what is this MSS?”
“Ministry of State Security! No more questions.”
Josh’s heart immediately sank with that curt reply. The Ministry of State Security was the Chinese equivalent of the CIA, or worse, the Soviet KGB in the former USSR. Josh figured that he could be in serious trouble. What did they want from him? What if they were after the names of his contacts, or wanted him to divulge some incriminating evidence? What was he going to do? Josh slid his left hand slowly on top of his trouser pocket to make sure his cell was still there. Perhaps he should call the American Embassy, if they’ll even let him. At least he was assured of one
thing, folks at home were praying. Bev would be, no doubt about that. His staff, his elders, and his band of intercessors had also assured him of their daily prayers.
What’s your purpose for allowing this to happen, Lord? Strengthen me now that I may know and fulfill your will in this .Josh closed his eyes to focus on Jesus. It took a while for his heart to stop pounding. Gradually he began to sense the presence of God permeate his soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael was about to enter, then hesitated. The Twenty Four were in session, and he had no desire to interrupt. It was not that he was intimidated—the Twenty Four and the archangels had always gotten along perfectly well ever since the dawn of time, and angels have no human apprehensions—not archangels anyway. Like Michael, the twenty-four elders were spiritual beings of an exalted order, not humans, even though they were referred to as “elders” in that sacred scroll called the Apocalypse.
He knew the session they were having with the Lamb was of paramount importance. At the appropriate moment, Michael made an entrance into the throne room, kneeling before the King of Kings. He had always felt amazed before the presence of the Resurrected One. Since the ascension of Jesus over two thousand years ago, the splendor of the Lamb had never ceased to create a sense of awe and wonderment in him. The face of Jesus beamed with pure power, and His voice thundered mightier than Niagara Falls. The matchless Lamb of God was on the throne—the only one worthy to open the seven seals, slain in weakness yet risen with power. For centuries angels had striven to determine Yahweh’s plan of salvation, but they couldn’t—until the crucifixion and resurrection.
The Lamb stood to welcome Michael into the celestial council, and immediately the Twenty Four bowed in worship as Jesus rose to His feet. Michael could not get accustomed to that either.
The glorified Son of God, the Alpha and the Omega, approached to make him feel welcome while he elders knelt in meek reverence to the Almighty. Then again, the Ascended One did put His hand on old Apostle John, saying, “Do not be afraid,” when the beloved disciple first received the vision of Revelation. John was trembling with dread as any man would.
“Forgive me for interrupting, my LORD,” Michael said. “The accuser has come to make his demands once again.”
“We know what he wants,” one of the Twenty Four said.
Michael nodded. “Yes, he wants all restraints to be removed so that he can begin his vengeful and wicked scheme.”
“Tell the evil one,” Jesus said, “that Gabriel will be out of his way only at the appointed time. If he maneuvers for more information, you may reveal a little extra at your own discretion.”
“Yes, my LORD.” Michael took a bow to the Lamb and the elders before exiting the throne room. As he was leaving the chamber, he heard one of the spiritual beings ask, “While we are on the matter, LORD, may I inquire if our favored servant is on schedule?”
“Most definitely,” the Lamb said. “It is progressing exactly as I have anticipated; he truly does have an obedient heart.”
Michael smiled, and sped to his destination in a brilliant beam of light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
The interrogation room was bright and clinical. The entire building looked new, or at least recently renovated. In the middle of the room was a chrome rectangular table with a red chair on each side. The walls were painted stark white, with no sign of a two way mirror on any of them. The guards confiscated Josh’s phone and ordered him to sit and wait for the interrogating officer. He looked at his wristwatch; it was 10:15 A.M.
An hour later, the door swung open. Two sagacious-looking agents entered swiftly, files in hand. The female officer sat down without a word, studying the files. The silence was disquieting and deafening, with the only sound an antiquated Mandarin clock on the wall.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, on it went.
“Mr. McGuire, what have you been doing in Shanghai?” the woman finally asked.
“I came as a tourist. This is my first time in China.” Josh was relieved to tell the truth. He was touring the underground house churches and some Three-Self congregations, and he had ticked the ‘tourist’ box on the disembarkation form on arrival.
“Have you been visiting illegal churches?”
“Why do you ask?” Josh tried to give nothing away. Maybe they are only fishing for information, he hoped.
“We know you’ve been preaching Christianity at some illegal gatherings.”
Josh swallowed hard. “Have you been following me? Why is it illegal to worship God?”
The man who was standing next to the female officer weighed in, “We don’t want to waste your time, Mr. McGuire, and believe me, you don’t want to waste ours. Whether you get out of here in a matter of hours, days, or weeks is up to you. Just answer the questions.”
For a moment Josh was glad he didn’t say months or years.
“Who are your contacts for the house churches? We want all their names!”
Josh was silent. He could not give them the names of the underground leaders. It would implicate them, and they could be imprisoned for years as a result. Those flourishing house churches could be closed down forever. Josh did not want to jeopardize the work of God, no matter what they might do to him personally. He decided to keep quiet.
“Names, Mr. McGuire!”
Josh stared hard at the files on the table in front of him.
“Your contacts, McGuire, or you will know the true meaning of PAIN,” the male officer hollered, pounding the table with his huge palm.
Josh clasped his hands tight beneath the table and raised his eyes to bravely meet the agent’s.
The man swung his fist in a rapid move, striking Josh with the back of his knuckles. The blow landed hard upon his right cheek. He fell off his chair on to the floor, and bubbles of blood instantly oozed from his nose.
A solid kick directed firmly at the abdomen followed.
Josh gritted his teeth to endure the agony. He had never been punched or kicked by a grown man in his life. He’d had fights with others when he was a young boy, but that was long ago and far different.
“I…demand…to see the U.S. ambassador,” Josh managed to say, groaning as he sat up on the floor. “You…have no right to strike me…. I’m a citizen of the United States.”
“Sure, you can tell that to the chief when you see him!”
The two agents stormed out the room, infuriated by Josh’s refusal to cooperate.
Did he say the chief? That was probably the last person Josh wanted to see; he could imagine a three-headed beast coming to torture him. With his handkerchief, Josh wiped the blood off his nose. Oh, Lord Jesus, help me to fear nothing and no one. Help me to be your faithful witness, and when your purpose for this is completed, get me out of here.
There was nothing Josh could do in the interrogation room but wait, pray, and not allow his imagination to run wild with anxiety. He remembered the strong anticipation he’d had for this trip and the thrill he’d felt at the airport before boarding. For a long time, particularly after the much-needed renovation, JFK has been his favorite airport. Actually, he had quite enjoyed visiting international airports around the world. This in spite of September Eleventh, which had taken place thirty-one years ago. Airports had not been quite the same since; for some, flying had permanently lost its appeal, with pleasure being replaced by apprehension and in some cases loathing because of those obtrusive security checks. The same couldn’t be said for Josh, though. Perhaps it still gave him
a sense of adventure—the restaurants and cafes, the bookstores, the movement of different people, planes taking off, each stirring within him a feeling of embarking toward something exciting.
It was often hard saying goodbye for the pastor and his wife, even if it was only for four weeks. One month could seem like a long time, and it sure did feel that way for Josh and Bev, particularly for this trip. He was travelling to a “closed” country on a mission, ministering and preaching at different underground churches. In the continuing era of international terrorism, he knew how difficult it would be for Bev not to worry about this particular mission of his. But her faith in God’s willingness and capacity to protect His own in any and every circumstance had rarely wavered over the years.
Josh remembered Rebecca, who’d been waiting ruefully at the front door, looking a little sad but eager to give Josh her warmest goodbye hug. “Go give them all you’ve got, Dad. I’ll be waging war on your behalf 24-7, both mom and I.” She’d given him the tightest bear squeeze a teenager can muster.
“I know you will, my panda bear. And you’ll look after mom for me, won’t you?”
He used to call her panda bear when she was little. He would never forget that cherished occasion when Rebecca was just four years old. She was playing in bed with both him and Bev when he cuddled her gently and asked, “Will you still be my panda bear when you grow up?”
“Yes, a BIG ONE!” was her spontaneous reply. They all broke into laughter. It was one of those precious moments enshrined forever in his memory. Now she was sixteen, and exceedingly pretty with her mesmerizing blue eyes.
Josh recalled giving Bev a long caress. “The Lord is with you as always, my dear, so there’s nothing to fear. Love you heaps.”
“We’ll be fine, hon, don’t worry about us. I’ll be praying hard for you. Hurry on now, Bill’s been out there a long time.”
Senator Bill Davies had been patiently waiting in his white limousine for Josh to say his good-byes. He usually insisted on chauffeuring his pastor to JFK, knowing that Bev didn’t fancy the 90-minute drive.
“Love ’em lots, don’t you? Gonna miss them, I bet?” the Senator had said when Josh climbed into the back seat.
“Nah! Not much,” Josh had joked, half-smiling, staring blankly out the tinted window.
“You’re a great pastor, Josh, and you have a wonderful relationship with Bev and Rebecca. Everyone in the church knows that. But tell me, why do you do this?”
“Do what, pal?”
“Go preaching to these dangerous and peculiar places.”
“Compelled to.”
“Just make sure we don’t have to send in our Special Forces to get you out of the ‘Middle Kingdom,’ okay?”
“Oh, I won’t bother; God has already sent His units ahead of me. Your guys are no match for His.”
The Senator had smiled and nodded. “Dead right there.”
Given what had just transpired in the last four hours, Josh sure hoped Bill wouldn’t have to stage a rescue from Shanghai.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<>~~~~~~~~~~~
The Prince of Darkness had been pacing restlessly. His hollow eyes revealed nothing except a pit of venomous hatred stretching back through eternity. “What took you so long? Did He just delay you as usual?” The voice of Satan, once called Lucifer, was deep and demeaning.
“Keep your sarcasm to yourself,” Michael commanded, unfazed by Satan’s provocation, though saddened at the sight of such insatiable evil. “You shall not begin global persecution of the faithful until the time foreordained by the LORD God Almighty. Gabriel will not be out of your way until then.”
“Spare me your totalitarian autocratic babble. Tell me when that time is.”
“When the designated one is born again—”
“And who might that be?”
“You know.”
“I see. You mean the one whom my foot soldier has been pestering the last few years. Why is that pathetic, insignificant soul so important?”
“The LORD rebukes you, Satan. I do not want to see your face here ag—”
“Oh, you surely will. Just let Him know that I have the right to begin implementing my great plan for the earth when the hour arrives. I will not wait for even half a second longer.”
As the devil swept out on his scheming way, Gabriel appeared alongside Michael. His being emitted a pure, shimmering glow, much like his comrade except for a tint of sapphire.
“The Day is drawing very near indeed,” Gabriel said.
“You are right, my friend. The Great Commission has made outstanding progress over the past two decades. The gospel of our LORD has touched almost every people of every nation.”
“Only one city and one group remain…our very last bastion.”
“Hmm. The final frontier...”
From an enormous distance, they were taking an extended gaze at the Earth.
She was exceptionally beautiful.
Dynamic Uno here: This is a book that I want to read. I didn't sign up for the tour because it's the end of the school year and life is crazy right now, so I'm hoping I get some time soon to go check it out. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading!
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
A Time to Defeat the Devil by Chuck Pierce
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Charisma House (May 3, 2011)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Dr. Charles D. “Chuck” Pierce has been used by God to intercede and mobilize prayer throughout the world. He is an ordained minister and serves as president of Glory of Zion International Ministries in Denton, Texas. He also serves as president of Global Spheres, Inc., a ministry for apostolic, prophetic, and intercessory leaders. He had a degree in business from Texas A&M and a doctorate of ministry from the Wagner Leadership Institute. He is the author of numerous books, including Possessing Your Inheritance, Redeeming the Time, and Interpreting the Times.Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Times are changing, and we must stay in God’s timing to prosper in a world where the god of this age is attempting to mold you into the blueprint of the day and cause you to look like the world around you. God has called His people to have transformed minds and to be linked to the Head—not to bring up the rear in producing the changes around us. When we are at the right place at the right time, we can break out of confusing, mind-altering powers that war against God and all the blessings He is ready to pour upon us. The author is writing this book to help us understand how to enter a new level of freedom and victory. This book is like a war manual that will help you stay free from the enemy’s vexing power as you journey through life. This installment of the Time trilogy will teach you how to war in time. Your battles are now! God reconciles our past so that our now opens up to our future. Your defeats in a former season will now become the victories and triumphs for your future.Product Details:
List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 272 pages
Publisher: Charisma House (May 3, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1616382783
ISBN-13: 978-1616382780
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
THERE IS A MOMENT FOR CHANGE
I do not have time for many outlets or hobbies. My life is mostly travel, ministry, prayer, and family. At one time I painted on canvas. That was an enormous outlet. I still do some yard work when I have a Saturday and observe that Pam, my wife, is behind on maintenance. I travel 70 percent of the time, so that is usually my excuse when people ask me what I do. I actually sleep very little (a five-hour-a-day sleep pattern) and spend much of the night (and day) praying for people. I listen daily for my prayer list to form. Usually the Lord keeps ten people on that list each day. These are people in the throes of transition, ensnared by the enemy, or on the verge. My delight is to seek and know God and worship Him on a daily basis.
One diversion I do enjoy is bowling. Actually, I have bowled for forty years. All of my sons bowl, some better than others, and as a ministry we bowl in city, regional, and national competitions. Our teams are Christian influences (most of the time) when we compete.
So why would I be starting this book this way? Recently, we were in competition on a regional level. In the first game of the nine-game competition, my son John Mark bowled a perfect game, a score of three hundred. He has performed this feat several times, so the perfect score was not the real issue. During the game, the Spirit of God impressed me deeply with these words: “There is a moment for change and victory.” I looked at my score—one hundred seventy. I really could not grasp what I was hearing.
Here at Glory of Zion we have corporate prayer on Tuesday mornings. During our next Tuesday prayer, I heard the voice of God speaking again, “There is a moment for change and victory.” I wasn’t leading in the prayer meeting, and this revelation from heaven appeared not to fit, so like Mary, I just pondered this statement.
Tuesday nights, we have five teams in a very competitive regional league. The league is called “The Money League.” This league pays quarterly and is more lucrative than most leagues in the area. I bowl with one of the owners of a pro shop in our area. She and her husband are great friends of ours. She is a devout Jew. So she understands G-d and recognizes His reality.
In the last game of the night, when we were only a few pins behind, I kept missing my mark. I heard the Spirit of God say again, “There is a moment for change and victory.” Immediately I knew! Sometimes you know—you just know! If we were to increase our winnings and supply line, I would have to change. However, the Spirit of God was saying, “I already have the time for this change and the grace for you to shift.”
After we lost by six pins and I was leaving the alley, I looked at Dora and her husband, Fred, one of the best bowlers I know, and said, “I plan on relearning this game. Yes, I have done this for forty years one way, but there is a moment for me to change, and now is the time.” I knew I would have to change my entire game—my approach, my rotation, the ball, my stance, my release, my timing, and most importantly, my brain. However, I knew that there was a moment, and I did not want to miss this change, even if I had to fail at the beginning to increase at the end.
I am a right hander, but I learned to throw the ball as a left-hand bowler. When you are right-hand dominant and you bowl like that, you throw a back-up ball. This ball looks like a left-hander’s ball, but you are using your right hand. Now God was saying, “There is a moment for change and victory if you will allow Me to reorder your thoughts and movement. If you submit, you will increase! You can continue to try to back up or face forward, reposition, and learn to go forward in a new way.”
For the mind to break out of the last season’s mentality, there is war. Whether bowling or worshiping or learning a new system or way of doing things, there is war! The war is over a greater portion, an increase, a new way to prosper.
As you read this book, pursue this concept in every area of your life; be prepared to enter into your future. Be expectant! When I asked John Mark, “Why do you bowl so well?” he said, “Every time that I begin a game, I see myself bowling three hundred! I may not always bowl a perfect game, but I expect to do so!” In the next chapter, we will discuss expectations.
Time and space are two of the most interesting and difficult concepts to grasp as you move through your life journey. We are in time, but God is not. Though some of us may feel that we were born out of time, we have been set in time and place to understand our Creator and what He created us to accomplish. Acts 17:26 says, “He has . . . determined their pre-appointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings.” When you are in time correctly, you can grasp God and His purpose for your life.
Times are changing, and we must stay in God’s timing to prosper in a world where the god of this age desires to mold you into the blueprint of the day and cause you to look like the world around you. But we are called to have transformed minds and be linked to the Head—not to bring up the rear in producing the changes around us. Even righteous
Lot was vexed because of his environment in Sodom. When we are at the right place at the right time we can break out of vexing, confusing, mind-altering powers that war against the covenant of holy God and all of the blessings He is ready to pour upon us.
In this season, you must know your belief system. What do you believe in? Whom do you believe in? Everyone has some sort of belief system that they develop for their life. Mine is the Word of God. In this season we must rehearse the Word. What revelation has come to you? That is what you use to war in the world around you. We must meditate on what God says until the power of that revelation enters our bloodstream and cell structure. We also must learn to worship and minister in our homes. Doing so will allow our gifts to be activated in a new way in small groups. When the time comes that we are not free to worship publicly in our church buildings, we will already know how to continue worshiping in our homes. Take the points below and use them to speak into your life and the environment around you.
I Believe the Bible Is the Word of God
I am asked often, “What do you believe?”
This summarizes my belief system: Hebrews 4:12 says, “For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Romans 10:17 says, “So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” Therefore I contend that if faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, then for those who are lost, faith to be saved comes by hearing the Word of God, and for those who are already saved, faith to continue on to spiritual maturity comes by hearing the Word of God.
I believe Father God came as Spirit and hovered over a virgin and impregnated her. I believe the Son was then born to this virgin named Mary and grew in stature and favor with man. I believe that He came unto His own but His own did not receive Him. I believe that He overcame the power of sin in this world and withstood all temptations that would be known to man. He presented who Father was to mankind. He then submitted Himself to Father’s plan, for me. He was then sacrificed, that I could be redeemed from the power of sin. I believe that He overcame death, hell, and the graveand now sits at the right hand of the Father. I believe His Spirit dwells among us to give us the same power to overcome all temptation, sin, and decay of the world.
I believe that I can be a son and receive a full inheritance from Him. I believe that the miracle-working power that was displayed by Jesus Christ, the Messiah, as He rose from the dead is now working in the world today. It is available to each and every one who will submit to the cross he or she has been given. This power enables us to unlock our futures and walk in overcoming victory.
I believe His power is working in the earth to align and redeem nations, forming a joyful house of prayer for each ethnic group. I believe this power continues to work to make Gentiles and Jews into one new man who will be presented to the Father. I believe that if I give my best, monthly, to Him, I will move from blessing to blessing until blessings overtake me.
War With Your Prophetic Word
The Word of God endures forever (Isa. 40:8; Ps. 119:89). The world cannot overcome the power of God’s life-giving Word when released through the spirit of man. The Spirit of God breathing on His Word makes His Word life and power. This Word is not bound by time but transcends from generation to generation and beyond. The deeds of the Word can be shared as a testament from one person and will affect the generations to come. The Word produces works—divine revelation and requirements that we believe will manifest. The Word is synonymous with speech, command, promise, and prophecy. Therefore we must speak the Word or utter our belief. Prophetic utterance is vision being released. “Where there is no vision [no redemptive revelation of God], the people perish” (Prov. 29:18, amp). Vision produces faith. Within our vision is the allotment for our provision.
Faith Develops and Increases
Faith is linked with an object. This book centers on a holy living God who sent His Son as His perfect reflection for us to believe, just as the prophets have prophesied and the Scriptures have been written. We do not seek God just for information; we seek God so we can respond and relate to Him. God is not important unless He is the supreme importance of our life.
Faith is not the same as belief. Faith is sensitivity, understanding, engagement, and attachment. We can gain more understanding of the object of our faith, or we can resist His plan and lose what we once acquired. A good example is the generation that left Egypt (Ps. 78:14–32; Isa. 63:17). Faith includes faithfulness, strength of waiting, the acceptance of His concealment, and the defiance of history (Isa. 26:13). Faith is preceded by awe or fear—the beginning of wisdom (Prov. 9:10). Without faith, we cannot please God.
Faith is like the numbers of a combination lock. We have many promises, but without combining and mixing those promises with faith, we cannot open up the way to enter the promise. Every time our faith soars, we gain a secret that is like one of the numbers that is necessary to open the combination lock. The secrets of God are with those who fear and reverence Him in worship. Psalm 25:12–15 says:
Who is the man that fears the Lord?
Him shall He teach in the way He chooses.
He himself shall dwell in prosperity,
And his descendants shall inherit the earth.
The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him,
And He will show them His covenant.
My eyes are ever toward the Lord,
For He shall pluck my feet out of the net.
We must learn to see the miracles that are daily with us. There are signposts all along our path. By faith, signs illuminate and keep our path bright. These signposts are like streetlights that guide us through a dark neighborhood. Because “faith cometh,” we must open our eyes to where we are going (Prov. 14:15).
Our faith is linked with the submission of our will. We must learn how to let His will prevail. The will wars against faith. Until the will is yielded, you cannot secure your desire. Our faith is not just our concern but is also His concern. Only in His light do we see light.
Through His Word, we have power to overcome the enemy’s plan. This season is supernatural! I am a pray-er and love to meet corporately with others to pray. Each time we meet for corporate prayer, we discuss what the Lord was saying from heaven and prophesying to us during the week. Then we pray. We watch and war with this revelation. First Timothy 1:18 admonishes us, “According to the prophecies previously made concerning you . . . you may wage the good warfare.”
God’s people must leave religion and their natural way of battle and enter this supernatural season with sharpened weapons. This is a season of breaking new ground, a time for us to gain new vision. For you to see the necessary action for breakthrough, you must extend your hand through the darkness and into the heavenly realm. You will touch God in a new way. That divine touch is like lightning connecting from one world to this world. You become God’s lightning rod. The Lord will give you strength by touching you with His hand. He will release the sword of revelation, which will connect with you to do war. Every dark, evil, watching force cannot hide when His light invades the realm of Earth and illuminates your spirit with revelation. Revelation produces faith, and faith overcomes.
Lift Your Hands for a Fresh Touch
Prophecy is the life flow of God’s voice and heart to His people and the earth realm. Recently I heard Him say, “Do not let your hands grow slack at this time. Slack hands will not be able to grab the weapon that is needed to defeat the enemy. I am bringing new strength into your hands. Your hands will be free as you ready yourself for the battle ahead. There’s a new watchman call that I’m placing upon My people, and they will stand, observe, and see in ways they’ve not seen before. They will know the order when things are not in order. You must be able to watch and see the slightest ‘out of order’ issue that would keep Me from moving you and yours forward. Don’t major on minors but see with My eyes, for I am setting many bodies in order. One of these is yours! I am setting groups in order. I am setting towns in order, and I am setting cities in new order. This is not a time for slack hands. This is not a time for manipulation and rearrangement or justification. You must see the way I see things; otherwise you will find yourself saying, ‘What happened to the glory in my boundaries?’ Raise up your slack hands now, and I will energize them, and you will be ready for the battle ahead.”
I am writing this book to help us understand how to take a word like this and enter a new level of freedom and victory. This book is the third of a series. The first two books, Interpreting the Times and Redeeming the Time, helped us to understand time. This third book is to extend a call to you. This call is for you to prosper. This call is for you to soar above all the atmospheric forces around you that would rob your faith and vision. This call is to withstand and overcome the vexing power of an enemy who opposes God in you—the Hope of Glory! Throughout this book, I want to encourage your spirit man to rise up and be filled with His Spirit. Look at your hands now and say, “NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO PROSPER!” This book is like a war manual that will help you stay free from the enemy’s vexing power as you journey through life.
War in Time
This installment of the Time trilogy will teach you how to war in time. Your battles are now! Your battle is not in the past. Some of what you are warring through originated in your past. But God is one who reconciles our past so that our now opens up to our future. He will bring your past in front of you so your defeats in a former season will now become the victories and triumphs for your future. This book is meant to educate and encourage you on how the enemy attempts to deflate your spirit man so you cannot soar in the heavenlies with the One who paid the price to make you free to rise to your royal state.
In a crisis season, the strategies of heaven must invade your sphere of authority! Everyone has a portion. You have been positioned in a sphere of authority. You must understand your sphere of authority and know how to operate with others in that sphere. It is from this sphere that you will watch the formation of your new. A sphere is a circuit of motion, revolution, or orbit. A sphere is also defined as a vast expanse where your heavenly realm appears. My favorite definition of sphere is “a circuit of action, knowledge, or influence that is both linked to the functional area of your involvement and every territory that is affected by you exercising authority.” Within this expanse is an order of society that you can influence. In 2 Corinthians 10, Paul talks about what his sphere of influence includes and where he does not have certain authority to rule. This is where you enter the new!
For you to see what is happening new around you, you must shake off all discouragement, disillusionment, and disinterest. You must tell your emotions not to resist the new. You must believe that God has more for you. In other words, your latter can be greater than your former! You must go up into a new spiritual realm. Actually, you must go beyond where you have been in the past.
As you read this book, I will be addressing each of the points that I will briefly outline below.
Ten Key Revelatory War Points
1. How to enter the new season that has begun It takes a war to break out of one season and enter another. We all go through transition times. (I write several chapters on this in the other two Time books.) Every transition time has three phases, and each phase has a warfare element involved. John the Baptist was a transitional prophet between the old covenant and new covenant. He announced in the wilderness who was coming. Jesus served the world transitionally between the wilderness of the old covenant and through the warfare of the cross of redemption up to the time when the Holy Spirit came to be our advocate in the world. In our lives, transitional times are filled with warfare but lead to the breaking of a new day (Ps. 110).
The Word of God is written from a Hebrew perspective. In Hebraic terms, we have entered a season linked with the number 70. This book is being written as we proceed into 2010. In the Hebrew perspective, the year is 5770. (This will be explained in detail as you read.) The number 70 in Hebrew is ayin. In Hebrew, ayin means “eye.” In the season of ayin, or “the eye,” God will create new vision in you for your life, family, ministry, and land where you are positioned. All seventies are linked with breaking captivity from one season and entering a realm of greater freedom. As you refresh and clear your conscience, you will see clearly. Holy Spirit is ready to give us Father’s eyes to see the world around us. I will explain other seasons as you proceed in the book.
2. How to see and open your eyes to a greater dimension of the demonic realm you will see beyond the dark structures that attempt to produce fear in your life. You will move in faith against what you have discerned and view your battles from God’s heavenly perspective. You will say, “I now see what was attempting to discourage and stop me from advancing.” When you see these foes in a new way, you will not be overwhelmed. Remember, Elijah saw the “word and the demon gods” that Jezebel was aligned with and ran from his position of authority. (See 1 Kings 19:1–3.) His actions postponed the Lord’s plan to change the government of Israel. You will learn to see and take your stand against what has opposed you from having victory.
3. How to hear the Spirit of God You will begin to perceive the prophetic revelation you need to break forth. While you are praying, Yeshua, who is at the right hand of the Father, will open the way for you to have an audience with the King. He will hear and respond. You will become alert and look again at what He has already said to you in the past seasons. He will refresh you with His voice, and you will gain the revelation you need now to see a manifestation of His grace and promise in your life. You will progress in your spiritual life and process. The Spirit of God is ready to manifest in new ways.
4. How to colabor with angels and ministering spirits God has released engineering and conducting angels. The Spirit of God wants many things engineered (as in construction) and conducted (as in electricity) in this season. We are entering into a new building season. To build means to add “sons and daughters” to what is being built. There is a new apostolic leadership arising to lead the body of Christ into this kingdom season. The apostolic leaders who are being raised up today will be downloading heaven’s building plan for His kingdom projects. Invite these angels as messengers to bring God’s plans. Angels will be ministering to us with fire in this new season. We will see great demonstrations of power, including unusual miracles.
5. How to receive your new assignment and go forth into new mission fields God will be sending some of His people into dark structures. Do not fear the darkness. He will give you night vision to see a path of righteousness through any unrighteous structure. This will be like moving in the Gulf Stream through normal ocean currents. The Gulf Stream is a warm stream that originates in the Gulf of Mexico, goes through the Florida Straits, and then moves into the colder waters of the Atlantic Ocean. God is parting waters. Dark spirits that have stopped us from advancing in certain areas to bring forth the harvest commission of the Son will now let go of harvest gates. First Corinthians 16:9, which says, “For a great and effective door has opened to me, and there are many adversaries,” will become a reality in this season. The Word of God will enter places that have been closed and groups of people who have resisted freedom. Demon forces will part like the Red Sea and will be held back while God’s children go into their new assignments.
6. How to see and get into the next move of God Do not look at just jumping in the river in this season, but go to the source—the place where the river is beginning. Go to the high places. Topple old thrones of iniquity, follow the river down, and break all dammed structures. Find the supply sources that have been withheld from you in the last season. God is opening your eyes to see those in need. A new move of God initiated by compassion is being released in the earth. This move will be filled with healing power. Entire neighborhoods, tribes, and cultures will experience a power release. Heaven will and is now invading your atmosphere and is filling your mouth with the Word that will transform cultures, structures, and territories.
7. How to express joy in a new way There is a shout rising from us that will cause God to meet us with His shout. He will open the fountains of the deep to release the revelation about how we are to enlarge our tents and walk forward in this season. There is a shout deep in your belly where the springs of living waters exist. Play skillfully with this shout as it rises and flows from your mouth. (See Psalm 33.) There is a new drink (spring) bubbling up within us that will expel bitterness, pain, and sorrow. How do we get joy unblocked and flowing in a new way and gain strength for our future? This is not a time to grieve. His joy will be your strength! When the Lord had determined to relieve Saul of his kingly duties, Samuel grieved over the loss of what could have been. Therefore the Lord asked Samuel a question: “How long will you grieve?” Grief moves us from shock to denial through the pain and guilt of the past season. We move up and down the emotional scale from anger to depression to bargaining to reflection to loneliness. We forget that God’s plan is for “joy to come in the morning”!
8. How to gain new vision and see your provision God will open our eyes to things we could not see in the last season so that He can activate the vision within us and finish what He has begun in us. He is Alpha and Omega. Alpha will show you how to begin what needs to be finished. Omega will show you how to walk things to the end. Poverty and infirmity blind our vision. Therefore, you will overcome and disconnect these two demonic spirits’ handshakes and enter into new thought processes.
9. How to have a renewed mind and a restored, alive human spirit filled with Holy Spirit
There is a path of freedom. There is a path of deliverance that leads to your destiny. God is making our minds new. The crowns you received in the last season need to be cast at His feet. Those crowns were meant to be given to our Lord and not worn into this season. He is fitting us and giving us new crowns to present to Him. He is putting new turbans on
our heads and developing a new mind-set for a new season. Your spirit was meant to soar! We must learn to have a soaring spirit.
10. How to understand the enemy’s vexing power How do you detect a curse working against you? How do you discern a vexing power that is stopping the anointing within you from flowing and breaking you into the prosperity that God has for you? How do you break the powers that have fragmented you and kept you from expressing God’s plan of wholeness and His holy character in your life? You will see Babylon arise in a new way. Do not fear. The kingdoms of the world are becoming His. This will happen as we are sent, as Daniel was, to be the greatest influencers in the Babylonian system. Dark watchers exist to colabor with familiar and familial spirits in our lives. You will see the dark watchers. You will be delivered from familial spirits that are holding iniquitous family patterns in place.
I do not have time for many outlets or hobbies. My life is mostly travel, ministry, prayer, and family. At one time I painted on canvas. That was an enormous outlet. I still do some yard work when I have a Saturday and observe that Pam, my wife, is behind on maintenance. I travel 70 percent of the time, so that is usually my excuse when people ask me what I do. I actually sleep very little (a five-hour-a-day sleep pattern) and spend much of the night (and day) praying for people. I listen daily for my prayer list to form. Usually the Lord keeps ten people on that list each day. These are people in the throes of transition, ensnared by the enemy, or on the verge. My delight is to seek and know God and worship Him on a daily basis.
One diversion I do enjoy is bowling. Actually, I have bowled for forty years. All of my sons bowl, some better than others, and as a ministry we bowl in city, regional, and national competitions. Our teams are Christian influences (most of the time) when we compete.
So why would I be starting this book this way? Recently, we were in competition on a regional level. In the first game of the nine-game competition, my son John Mark bowled a perfect game, a score of three hundred. He has performed this feat several times, so the perfect score was not the real issue. During the game, the Spirit of God impressed me deeply with these words: “There is a moment for change and victory.” I looked at my score—one hundred seventy. I really could not grasp what I was hearing.
Here at Glory of Zion we have corporate prayer on Tuesday mornings. During our next Tuesday prayer, I heard the voice of God speaking again, “There is a moment for change and victory.” I wasn’t leading in the prayer meeting, and this revelation from heaven appeared not to fit, so like Mary, I just pondered this statement.
Tuesday nights, we have five teams in a very competitive regional league. The league is called “The Money League.” This league pays quarterly and is more lucrative than most leagues in the area. I bowl with one of the owners of a pro shop in our area. She and her husband are great friends of ours. She is a devout Jew. So she understands G-d and recognizes His reality.
In the last game of the night, when we were only a few pins behind, I kept missing my mark. I heard the Spirit of God say again, “There is a moment for change and victory.” Immediately I knew! Sometimes you know—you just know! If we were to increase our winnings and supply line, I would have to change. However, the Spirit of God was saying, “I already have the time for this change and the grace for you to shift.”
After we lost by six pins and I was leaving the alley, I looked at Dora and her husband, Fred, one of the best bowlers I know, and said, “I plan on relearning this game. Yes, I have done this for forty years one way, but there is a moment for me to change, and now is the time.” I knew I would have to change my entire game—my approach, my rotation, the ball, my stance, my release, my timing, and most importantly, my brain. However, I knew that there was a moment, and I did not want to miss this change, even if I had to fail at the beginning to increase at the end.
I am a right hander, but I learned to throw the ball as a left-hand bowler. When you are right-hand dominant and you bowl like that, you throw a back-up ball. This ball looks like a left-hander’s ball, but you are using your right hand. Now God was saying, “There is a moment for change and victory if you will allow Me to reorder your thoughts and movement. If you submit, you will increase! You can continue to try to back up or face forward, reposition, and learn to go forward in a new way.”
For the mind to break out of the last season’s mentality, there is war. Whether bowling or worshiping or learning a new system or way of doing things, there is war! The war is over a greater portion, an increase, a new way to prosper.
As you read this book, pursue this concept in every area of your life; be prepared to enter into your future. Be expectant! When I asked John Mark, “Why do you bowl so well?” he said, “Every time that I begin a game, I see myself bowling three hundred! I may not always bowl a perfect game, but I expect to do so!” In the next chapter, we will discuss expectations.
Time and space are two of the most interesting and difficult concepts to grasp as you move through your life journey. We are in time, but God is not. Though some of us may feel that we were born out of time, we have been set in time and place to understand our Creator and what He created us to accomplish. Acts 17:26 says, “He has . . . determined their pre-appointed times and the boundaries of their dwellings.” When you are in time correctly, you can grasp God and His purpose for your life.
Times are changing, and we must stay in God’s timing to prosper in a world where the god of this age desires to mold you into the blueprint of the day and cause you to look like the world around you. But we are called to have transformed minds and be linked to the Head—not to bring up the rear in producing the changes around us. Even righteous
Lot was vexed because of his environment in Sodom. When we are at the right place at the right time we can break out of vexing, confusing, mind-altering powers that war against the covenant of holy God and all of the blessings He is ready to pour upon us.
In this season, you must know your belief system. What do you believe in? Whom do you believe in? Everyone has some sort of belief system that they develop for their life. Mine is the Word of God. In this season we must rehearse the Word. What revelation has come to you? That is what you use to war in the world around you. We must meditate on what God says until the power of that revelation enters our bloodstream and cell structure. We also must learn to worship and minister in our homes. Doing so will allow our gifts to be activated in a new way in small groups. When the time comes that we are not free to worship publicly in our church buildings, we will already know how to continue worshiping in our homes. Take the points below and use them to speak into your life and the environment around you.
I Believe the Bible Is the Word of God
I am asked often, “What do you believe?”
This summarizes my belief system: Hebrews 4:12 says, “For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” Romans 10:17 says, “So then faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” Therefore I contend that if faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God, then for those who are lost, faith to be saved comes by hearing the Word of God, and for those who are already saved, faith to continue on to spiritual maturity comes by hearing the Word of God.
I believe Father God came as Spirit and hovered over a virgin and impregnated her. I believe the Son was then born to this virgin named Mary and grew in stature and favor with man. I believe that He came unto His own but His own did not receive Him. I believe that He overcame the power of sin in this world and withstood all temptations that would be known to man. He presented who Father was to mankind. He then submitted Himself to Father’s plan, for me. He was then sacrificed, that I could be redeemed from the power of sin. I believe that He overcame death, hell, and the graveand now sits at the right hand of the Father. I believe His Spirit dwells among us to give us the same power to overcome all temptation, sin, and decay of the world.
I believe that I can be a son and receive a full inheritance from Him. I believe that the miracle-working power that was displayed by Jesus Christ, the Messiah, as He rose from the dead is now working in the world today. It is available to each and every one who will submit to the cross he or she has been given. This power enables us to unlock our futures and walk in overcoming victory.
I believe His power is working in the earth to align and redeem nations, forming a joyful house of prayer for each ethnic group. I believe this power continues to work to make Gentiles and Jews into one new man who will be presented to the Father. I believe that if I give my best, monthly, to Him, I will move from blessing to blessing until blessings overtake me.
War With Your Prophetic Word
The Word of God endures forever (Isa. 40:8; Ps. 119:89). The world cannot overcome the power of God’s life-giving Word when released through the spirit of man. The Spirit of God breathing on His Word makes His Word life and power. This Word is not bound by time but transcends from generation to generation and beyond. The deeds of the Word can be shared as a testament from one person and will affect the generations to come. The Word produces works—divine revelation and requirements that we believe will manifest. The Word is synonymous with speech, command, promise, and prophecy. Therefore we must speak the Word or utter our belief. Prophetic utterance is vision being released. “Where there is no vision [no redemptive revelation of God], the people perish” (Prov. 29:18, amp). Vision produces faith. Within our vision is the allotment for our provision.
Faith Develops and Increases
Faith is linked with an object. This book centers on a holy living God who sent His Son as His perfect reflection for us to believe, just as the prophets have prophesied and the Scriptures have been written. We do not seek God just for information; we seek God so we can respond and relate to Him. God is not important unless He is the supreme importance of our life.
Faith is not the same as belief. Faith is sensitivity, understanding, engagement, and attachment. We can gain more understanding of the object of our faith, or we can resist His plan and lose what we once acquired. A good example is the generation that left Egypt (Ps. 78:14–32; Isa. 63:17). Faith includes faithfulness, strength of waiting, the acceptance of His concealment, and the defiance of history (Isa. 26:13). Faith is preceded by awe or fear—the beginning of wisdom (Prov. 9:10). Without faith, we cannot please God.
Faith is like the numbers of a combination lock. We have many promises, but without combining and mixing those promises with faith, we cannot open up the way to enter the promise. Every time our faith soars, we gain a secret that is like one of the numbers that is necessary to open the combination lock. The secrets of God are with those who fear and reverence Him in worship. Psalm 25:12–15 says:
Who is the man that fears the Lord?
Him shall He teach in the way He chooses.
He himself shall dwell in prosperity,
And his descendants shall inherit the earth.
The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him,
And He will show them His covenant.
My eyes are ever toward the Lord,
For He shall pluck my feet out of the net.
We must learn to see the miracles that are daily with us. There are signposts all along our path. By faith, signs illuminate and keep our path bright. These signposts are like streetlights that guide us through a dark neighborhood. Because “faith cometh,” we must open our eyes to where we are going (Prov. 14:15).
Our faith is linked with the submission of our will. We must learn how to let His will prevail. The will wars against faith. Until the will is yielded, you cannot secure your desire. Our faith is not just our concern but is also His concern. Only in His light do we see light.
Through His Word, we have power to overcome the enemy’s plan. This season is supernatural! I am a pray-er and love to meet corporately with others to pray. Each time we meet for corporate prayer, we discuss what the Lord was saying from heaven and prophesying to us during the week. Then we pray. We watch and war with this revelation. First Timothy 1:18 admonishes us, “According to the prophecies previously made concerning you . . . you may wage the good warfare.”
God’s people must leave religion and their natural way of battle and enter this supernatural season with sharpened weapons. This is a season of breaking new ground, a time for us to gain new vision. For you to see the necessary action for breakthrough, you must extend your hand through the darkness and into the heavenly realm. You will touch God in a new way. That divine touch is like lightning connecting from one world to this world. You become God’s lightning rod. The Lord will give you strength by touching you with His hand. He will release the sword of revelation, which will connect with you to do war. Every dark, evil, watching force cannot hide when His light invades the realm of Earth and illuminates your spirit with revelation. Revelation produces faith, and faith overcomes.
Lift Your Hands for a Fresh Touch
Prophecy is the life flow of God’s voice and heart to His people and the earth realm. Recently I heard Him say, “Do not let your hands grow slack at this time. Slack hands will not be able to grab the weapon that is needed to defeat the enemy. I am bringing new strength into your hands. Your hands will be free as you ready yourself for the battle ahead. There’s a new watchman call that I’m placing upon My people, and they will stand, observe, and see in ways they’ve not seen before. They will know the order when things are not in order. You must be able to watch and see the slightest ‘out of order’ issue that would keep Me from moving you and yours forward. Don’t major on minors but see with My eyes, for I am setting many bodies in order. One of these is yours! I am setting groups in order. I am setting towns in order, and I am setting cities in new order. This is not a time for slack hands. This is not a time for manipulation and rearrangement or justification. You must see the way I see things; otherwise you will find yourself saying, ‘What happened to the glory in my boundaries?’ Raise up your slack hands now, and I will energize them, and you will be ready for the battle ahead.”
I am writing this book to help us understand how to take a word like this and enter a new level of freedom and victory. This book is the third of a series. The first two books, Interpreting the Times and Redeeming the Time, helped us to understand time. This third book is to extend a call to you. This call is for you to prosper. This call is for you to soar above all the atmospheric forces around you that would rob your faith and vision. This call is to withstand and overcome the vexing power of an enemy who opposes God in you—the Hope of Glory! Throughout this book, I want to encourage your spirit man to rise up and be filled with His Spirit. Look at your hands now and say, “NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO PROSPER!” This book is like a war manual that will help you stay free from the enemy’s vexing power as you journey through life.
War in Time
This installment of the Time trilogy will teach you how to war in time. Your battles are now! Your battle is not in the past. Some of what you are warring through originated in your past. But God is one who reconciles our past so that our now opens up to our future. He will bring your past in front of you so your defeats in a former season will now become the victories and triumphs for your future. This book is meant to educate and encourage you on how the enemy attempts to deflate your spirit man so you cannot soar in the heavenlies with the One who paid the price to make you free to rise to your royal state.
In a crisis season, the strategies of heaven must invade your sphere of authority! Everyone has a portion. You have been positioned in a sphere of authority. You must understand your sphere of authority and know how to operate with others in that sphere. It is from this sphere that you will watch the formation of your new. A sphere is a circuit of motion, revolution, or orbit. A sphere is also defined as a vast expanse where your heavenly realm appears. My favorite definition of sphere is “a circuit of action, knowledge, or influence that is both linked to the functional area of your involvement and every territory that is affected by you exercising authority.” Within this expanse is an order of society that you can influence. In 2 Corinthians 10, Paul talks about what his sphere of influence includes and where he does not have certain authority to rule. This is where you enter the new!
For you to see what is happening new around you, you must shake off all discouragement, disillusionment, and disinterest. You must tell your emotions not to resist the new. You must believe that God has more for you. In other words, your latter can be greater than your former! You must go up into a new spiritual realm. Actually, you must go beyond where you have been in the past.
As you read this book, I will be addressing each of the points that I will briefly outline below.
Ten Key Revelatory War Points
1. How to enter the new season that has begun It takes a war to break out of one season and enter another. We all go through transition times. (I write several chapters on this in the other two Time books.) Every transition time has three phases, and each phase has a warfare element involved. John the Baptist was a transitional prophet between the old covenant and new covenant. He announced in the wilderness who was coming. Jesus served the world transitionally between the wilderness of the old covenant and through the warfare of the cross of redemption up to the time when the Holy Spirit came to be our advocate in the world. In our lives, transitional times are filled with warfare but lead to the breaking of a new day (Ps. 110).
The Word of God is written from a Hebrew perspective. In Hebraic terms, we have entered a season linked with the number 70. This book is being written as we proceed into 2010. In the Hebrew perspective, the year is 5770. (This will be explained in detail as you read.) The number 70 in Hebrew is ayin. In Hebrew, ayin means “eye.” In the season of ayin, or “the eye,” God will create new vision in you for your life, family, ministry, and land where you are positioned. All seventies are linked with breaking captivity from one season and entering a realm of greater freedom. As you refresh and clear your conscience, you will see clearly. Holy Spirit is ready to give us Father’s eyes to see the world around us. I will explain other seasons as you proceed in the book.
2. How to see and open your eyes to a greater dimension of the demonic realm you will see beyond the dark structures that attempt to produce fear in your life. You will move in faith against what you have discerned and view your battles from God’s heavenly perspective. You will say, “I now see what was attempting to discourage and stop me from advancing.” When you see these foes in a new way, you will not be overwhelmed. Remember, Elijah saw the “word and the demon gods” that Jezebel was aligned with and ran from his position of authority. (See 1 Kings 19:1–3.) His actions postponed the Lord’s plan to change the government of Israel. You will learn to see and take your stand against what has opposed you from having victory.
3. How to hear the Spirit of God You will begin to perceive the prophetic revelation you need to break forth. While you are praying, Yeshua, who is at the right hand of the Father, will open the way for you to have an audience with the King. He will hear and respond. You will become alert and look again at what He has already said to you in the past seasons. He will refresh you with His voice, and you will gain the revelation you need now to see a manifestation of His grace and promise in your life. You will progress in your spiritual life and process. The Spirit of God is ready to manifest in new ways.
4. How to colabor with angels and ministering spirits God has released engineering and conducting angels. The Spirit of God wants many things engineered (as in construction) and conducted (as in electricity) in this season. We are entering into a new building season. To build means to add “sons and daughters” to what is being built. There is a new apostolic leadership arising to lead the body of Christ into this kingdom season. The apostolic leaders who are being raised up today will be downloading heaven’s building plan for His kingdom projects. Invite these angels as messengers to bring God’s plans. Angels will be ministering to us with fire in this new season. We will see great demonstrations of power, including unusual miracles.
5. How to receive your new assignment and go forth into new mission fields God will be sending some of His people into dark structures. Do not fear the darkness. He will give you night vision to see a path of righteousness through any unrighteous structure. This will be like moving in the Gulf Stream through normal ocean currents. The Gulf Stream is a warm stream that originates in the Gulf of Mexico, goes through the Florida Straits, and then moves into the colder waters of the Atlantic Ocean. God is parting waters. Dark spirits that have stopped us from advancing in certain areas to bring forth the harvest commission of the Son will now let go of harvest gates. First Corinthians 16:9, which says, “For a great and effective door has opened to me, and there are many adversaries,” will become a reality in this season. The Word of God will enter places that have been closed and groups of people who have resisted freedom. Demon forces will part like the Red Sea and will be held back while God’s children go into their new assignments.
6. How to see and get into the next move of God Do not look at just jumping in the river in this season, but go to the source—the place where the river is beginning. Go to the high places. Topple old thrones of iniquity, follow the river down, and break all dammed structures. Find the supply sources that have been withheld from you in the last season. God is opening your eyes to see those in need. A new move of God initiated by compassion is being released in the earth. This move will be filled with healing power. Entire neighborhoods, tribes, and cultures will experience a power release. Heaven will and is now invading your atmosphere and is filling your mouth with the Word that will transform cultures, structures, and territories.
7. How to express joy in a new way There is a shout rising from us that will cause God to meet us with His shout. He will open the fountains of the deep to release the revelation about how we are to enlarge our tents and walk forward in this season. There is a shout deep in your belly where the springs of living waters exist. Play skillfully with this shout as it rises and flows from your mouth. (See Psalm 33.) There is a new drink (spring) bubbling up within us that will expel bitterness, pain, and sorrow. How do we get joy unblocked and flowing in a new way and gain strength for our future? This is not a time to grieve. His joy will be your strength! When the Lord had determined to relieve Saul of his kingly duties, Samuel grieved over the loss of what could have been. Therefore the Lord asked Samuel a question: “How long will you grieve?” Grief moves us from shock to denial through the pain and guilt of the past season. We move up and down the emotional scale from anger to depression to bargaining to reflection to loneliness. We forget that God’s plan is for “joy to come in the morning”!
8. How to gain new vision and see your provision God will open our eyes to things we could not see in the last season so that He can activate the vision within us and finish what He has begun in us. He is Alpha and Omega. Alpha will show you how to begin what needs to be finished. Omega will show you how to walk things to the end. Poverty and infirmity blind our vision. Therefore, you will overcome and disconnect these two demonic spirits’ handshakes and enter into new thought processes.
9. How to have a renewed mind and a restored, alive human spirit filled with Holy Spirit
There is a path of freedom. There is a path of deliverance that leads to your destiny. God is making our minds new. The crowns you received in the last season need to be cast at His feet. Those crowns were meant to be given to our Lord and not worn into this season. He is fitting us and giving us new crowns to present to Him. He is putting new turbans on
our heads and developing a new mind-set for a new season. Your spirit was meant to soar! We must learn to have a soaring spirit.
10. How to understand the enemy’s vexing power How do you detect a curse working against you? How do you discern a vexing power that is stopping the anointing within you from flowing and breaking you into the prosperity that God has for you? How do you break the powers that have fragmented you and kept you from expressing God’s plan of wholeness and His holy character in your life? You will see Babylon arise in a new way. Do not fear. The kingdoms of the world are becoming His. This will happen as we are sent, as Daniel was, to be the greatest influencers in the Babylonian system. Dark watchers exist to colabor with familiar and familial spirits in our lives. You will see the dark watchers. You will be delivered from familial spirits that are holding iniquitous family patterns in place.
Monday, May 23, 2011
False Witness by Randy Singer
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.; Reprint edition (April 25, 2011)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Randy Singer is a critically acclaimed author and veteran trial attorney. He has penned 10 legal thrillers, including his award-winning debut novel, Directed Verdict. Randy runs his own law practice and has been named to Virginia Business magazine's select list of "Legal Elite" litigation attorneys. In addition to his law practice and writing, Randy serves as teaching pastor for Trinity Church in Virginia Beach, Virginia. He calls it his "Jekyll and Hyde thing"—part lawyer, part pastor. He also teaches classes in advocacy and civil litigation at Regent Law School and, through his church, is involved with ministry opportunities in India. He and his wife, Rhonda, live in Virginia Beach. They have two grown children.Visit the author's website.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Clark Shealy is a bail bondsman with the ultimate bounty on the line: his wife's life. He has forty-eight hours to find an Indian professor in possession of the Abacus Algorithm—an equation so powerful it could crack all Internet encryption.Four years later, law student Jamie Brock is working in legal aid when a routine case takes a vicious twist: she and two colleagues learn that their clients, members of the witness protection program, are accused of defrauding the government and have the encrypted algorithm in their possession. After a life-changing trip to the professor's church in India, the couple also has the key to decode it.
Now they're on the run from federal agents and the Chinese mafia, who will do anything to get the algorithm. Caught in the middle, Jamie and her friends must protect their clients if they want to survive long enough to graduate.
An adrenaline-laced thrill ride, this retelling of one of Randy Singer's most critically acclaimed novels takes readers from the streets of Las Vegas to the halls of the American justice system and the inner sanctum of the growing church in India with all the trademark twists, turns, and the legal intrigue his fans have come to expect.
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 432 pages
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.; Reprint edition (April 25, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1414335695
ISBN-13: 978-1414335698
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
MONDAY, AUGUST 9
THE LONGEST THREE DAYS of Clark Shealy’s life began with an expired registration sticker.
That was Clark’s first clue, the reason he followed the jet-black Cadillac Escalade ESV yesterday. The reason he phoned his wife, his partner in both marriage and crime . . . well, not really crime but certainly the dark edge of legality. They were the Bonnie and Clyde of bounty hunters, of repo artists, of anything requiring sham credentials and bold-faced lies. Jessica’s quick search of DMV records, which led to a phone call to the title holder, a Los Angeles credit union, confirmed what Clark had already guessed. The owner wasn’t making payments. The credit union wanted to repo the vehicle but couldn’t find it. They were willing to pay.
“How much?” Clark asked Jessica.
“It’s not worth it,” she replied. “That’s not why you’re there.”
“Sure, honey. But just for grins, how much are we passing up?”
Jessica murmured something.
“You’re breaking up,” Clark said.
“They’d pay a third of Blue Book.”
“Which is?”
“About forty-eight four,” Jessica said softly.
“Love you, babe,” Clark replied, doing the math. Sixteen thousand dollars!
“Clark—”
He ended the call. She called back. He hit Ignore.
Sixteen thousand dollars! Sure, it wasn’t the main reason he had come to Vegas. But a little bonus couldn’t hurt.
Unfortunately, the vehicle came equipped with the latest in theft protection devices, an electronically coded key supplied to the owner. The engine transmitted an electronic message that had to match the code programmed into the key, or the car wouldn’t turn over.
Clark learned this the hard way during the dead hours of the desert night, at about two thirty. He had broken into the Cadillac, disabled the standard alarm system, removed the cover of the steering column, and hot-wired the vehicle. But without the right key, the car wouldn’t start. Clark knew immediately that he had triggered a remote alarm. Using his hacksaw, he quickly sawed deep into the steering column, disabling the vehicle, and then sprinted down the drive and across the road
.
He heard a stream of cursing from the front steps of a nearby condo followed by the blast of a gun. To Clark’s trained ears, it sounded like a .350 Magnum, though he didn’t stay around long enough to confirm the make, model, and ATF serial number.
◁▷
Six hours later, Clark came back.
He bluffed his way past the security guard at the entrance of the gated community and drove his borrowed tow truck into the elegant brick parking lot rimmed by manicured hedges. He parked sideways, immediately behind the Cadillac. These condos, some of Vegas’s finest, probably went for more than a million bucks each.
The Caddy fit right in, screaming elegance and privilege—custom twenty-inch rims, beautiful leather interior, enough leg room for the Lakers’ starting five, digital readouts on the dash, and an onboard computer that allowed its owner to customize all power functions in the vehicle. The surround-sound system, of course, could rattle the windows on a car three blocks away. Cadillac had pimped this ride out fresh from the factory, making it the vehicle of choice for men like Mortavius Johnson, men who lived on the west side of Vegas and supplied “escorts” for the city’s biggest gamblers.
Clark speed-dialed 1 before he stepped out of the tow truck.
“This is stupid, Clark.”
“Good morning to you, too. Are you ready?”
“No.”
“All right. Let’s do it.” He slid the still-connected phone into a pocket of his coveralls. They were noticeably short, pulling at the crotch. He had bought the outfit on the spot from a mechanic at North Vegas Auto, the same garage where he borrowed the tow truck from the owner, a friend who had helped Clark in some prior repo schemes. A hundred and fifty bucks for the coveralls, complete with oil and grease stains. Clark had ripped off the name tag and rolled up the sleeves. It felt like junior high all over again, growing so fast the clothes couldn’t keep up with the boy.
He popped open the hood of the wrecker, smeared his fingers on some blackened oil grime, and rubbed a little grease on his forearms, with a dab to his face. He closed the hood and walked confidently to the front door of the condo, checking the paper in his hand as if looking for an address. He rang the bell.
Silence. . . . He rang it again.
Eventually, he heard heavy footsteps inside and then the clicking of a lock before the door slowly opened. Mortavius Johnson, looking like he had barely survived a rough night, filled the doorway. Clark was tall and slender—six-three, about one-ninety. But Mortavius was tall and bulky—a brooding presence who dwarfed Clark. He wore jeans and no shirt, exposing rock-solid pecs but also a good-size gut. He didn’t have a gun.
Clark glanced down at his paper while Mortavius surveyed him with bloodshot eyes.
“Are you Mortavius Johnson?”
“Yeah.”
“You call for a tow?”
Mortavius’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. The big man glanced at the pocket of Clark’s coveralls—no insignia—then around him at the tow truck. Clark had quickly spray-painted over the logo and wondered if Mortavius could tell.
Clark held his breath and considered his options. If the big man caught on, Clark would have to surprise Mortavius, Pearl Harbor–style, with a knee to the groin or a fist to the solar plexus. Even those blows would probably just stun the big man momentarily. Clark would sprint like a bandit to the tow truck, hoping Mortavius’s gun was more than arm’s length away. Clark might be able to outrun Mortavius, but not the man’s bullet.
“I left a message last night with the Cadillac dealer,” Mortavius said.
The Cadillac dealer. Clark was hoping for something a little more specific. “And the Cadillac dealer called me,” Clark said, loudly enough to be heard on the cell phone in his pocket. “You think they’ve got their own tow trucks at that place? It’s not like Caddies break down very often. If everybody could afford a Caddie, I’d go out of business.”
Clark smiled. Mortavius did not.
“What company you with?” he asked.
“Highway Auto Service,” Clark responded, louder still. He pulled out the cell phone, surreptitiously hit the End button with a thumb, then held it out to Mortavius. “You want to call my office? Speed dial 1.”
Mortavius frowned. He still looked groggy. “I’ll get the keys,” he said.
He disappeared from the doorway, and Clark let out a breath. He speed-dialed Jessica again and put the phone back in his pocket. He glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take.
Give me a break!
Another tow truck was pulling past the security guard and heading toward Mortavius’s condo. Things were getting a little dicey.
“I left some papers in the truck you’ll need to sign,” Clark called into the condo. But as soon as the words left Clark’s mouth, Mortavius reappeared in the doorway, keys in hand.
Unfortunately, he glanced past Clark, and his eyes locked on the other tow truck. A glint of understanding sparked, followed by a flash of anger. “Who sent you?” Mortavius demanded.
“I told you . . . the Cadillac place.”
“The Cadillac place,” Mortavius repeated sarcastically. “What Cadillac place?”
“Don’t remember. The name’s on the papers in my truck.”
Mortavius took a menacing step forward, and Clark felt the fear crawl up his neck. His fake sheriff’s ID was in the tow truck along with his gun. He was running out of options.
“Who sent you?” Mortavius demanded.
Clark stiffened, ready to dodge the big man’s blows. In that instant, Clark thought about the dental work the last incident like this had required. Jessica would shoot him—it wasn’t in the budget.
A hand shot out, and Clark ducked. He lunged forward and brought his knee up with all his might. But the other man was quick, and the knee hit rock-solid thigh, not groin. Clark felt himself being jerked by his collar into the foyer, the way a dog might be yanked inside by an angry owner. Before he could land a blow, Clark was up against the wall, Mortavius in his face, a knife poised against Clark’s stomach.
Where did that come from?
Mortavius kicked the door shut. “Talk fast, con man,” he hissed. “Intruders break into my home, I slice ’em up in self-defense.”
“I’m a deputy sheriff for Orange County, California,” Clark gasped. He tried to sound official, hoping that even Mortavius might think twice before killing a law enforcement officer. “In off hours, I repo vehicles.” He felt the point of the knife pressing against his gut, just below his navel, the perfect spot to start a vivisection.
“But you can keep yours,” Clark continued, talking fast. “I’m only authorized to repo if there’s no breach of the peace. Looks like this situation might not qualify.”
Mortavius inched closer. He shifted his grip from Clark’s collar to his neck, pinning Clark against the wall. “You try to gank my ride at night, then show up the next morning to tow it?”
“Something like that,” Clark admitted. The words came out whispered for lack of air.
“That takes guts,” Mortavius responded. A look that might have passed for admiration flashed across the dark eyes. “But no brains.”
“I’ve got a deal,” Clark whispered, frantic now for breath. His world was starting to cave in, stars and pyrotechnics clouding his vision.
The doorbell rang.
“Let’s hear it,” Mortavius said quietly, relaxing his stranglehold just enough so Clark could breathe.
“They’re paying me six Gs for the car,” Clark explained rapidly. He was thinking just clearly enough to fudge the numbers. “They know where you are now because I called them yesterday. Even if you kill me—” saying the words made Clark shudder a little, especially since Mortavius didn’t flinch—“they’re going to find the car. You let me tow it today and get it fixed. I’ll wire four thousand bucks into your bank account before I leave the Cadillac place. I make two thousand, and you’ve got four thousand for a down payment on your next set of wheels.”
The doorbell rang again, and Mortavius furrowed his brow. “Five Gs,” he said, scowling.
“Forty-five hundred,” Clark countered, “I’ve got a wife and—”
Ughh . . . Clark felt the wind flee his lungs as Mortavius slammed him against the wall. Pain shot from the back of his skull where it bounced off the drywall, probably leaving a dent.
“Five,” Mortavius snarled.
Clark nodded quickly.
The big man released Clark, answered the door, and chased away the other tow truck driver, explaining that there had been a mistake. As Mortavius and Clark finished negotiating deal points, Clark had another brilliant idea.
“Have you got any friends who aren’t making their payments?” he asked. “I could cut them in on the same type of deal. Say . . . fifty-fifty on the repo reward—they could use their cuts as down payments to trade up.”
“Get out of here before I hurt you,” Mortavius said.
◁▷
Clark glanced at his watch as he left the parking lot. He had less than two hours to return the tow truck and make it to the plastic surgeon’s office. He speed-dialed Jessica.
“Highway Auto Service,” she responded.
“It didn’t work,” Clark said. “I got busted.”
“You okay?”
He loved hearing the concern in her voice. He hesitated a second, then, “Not a scratch on me.”
“I told you it was a dumb idea,” Jessica said, though she sounded more relieved than upset. “You never listen. Clark Shealy knows it all.”
And he wasn’t listening now. Instead, he was doing the math again in his head. Sixteen thousand, minus Mortavius’s cut and the repair bill, would leave about ten. He thought about the logistics of making the wire transfers into accounts that Jessica wouldn’t know about.
Pulling a con on pimps like Mortavius was one thing. Getting one by Jessica was quite another.
THE LONGEST THREE DAYS of Clark Shealy’s life began with an expired registration sticker.
That was Clark’s first clue, the reason he followed the jet-black Cadillac Escalade ESV yesterday. The reason he phoned his wife, his partner in both marriage and crime . . . well, not really crime but certainly the dark edge of legality. They were the Bonnie and Clyde of bounty hunters, of repo artists, of anything requiring sham credentials and bold-faced lies. Jessica’s quick search of DMV records, which led to a phone call to the title holder, a Los Angeles credit union, confirmed what Clark had already guessed. The owner wasn’t making payments. The credit union wanted to repo the vehicle but couldn’t find it. They were willing to pay.
“How much?” Clark asked Jessica.
“It’s not worth it,” she replied. “That’s not why you’re there.”
“Sure, honey. But just for grins, how much are we passing up?”
Jessica murmured something.
“You’re breaking up,” Clark said.
“They’d pay a third of Blue Book.”
“Which is?”
“About forty-eight four,” Jessica said softly.
“Love you, babe,” Clark replied, doing the math. Sixteen thousand dollars!
“Clark—”
He ended the call. She called back. He hit Ignore.
Sixteen thousand dollars! Sure, it wasn’t the main reason he had come to Vegas. But a little bonus couldn’t hurt.
Unfortunately, the vehicle came equipped with the latest in theft protection devices, an electronically coded key supplied to the owner. The engine transmitted an electronic message that had to match the code programmed into the key, or the car wouldn’t turn over.
Clark learned this the hard way during the dead hours of the desert night, at about two thirty. He had broken into the Cadillac, disabled the standard alarm system, removed the cover of the steering column, and hot-wired the vehicle. But without the right key, the car wouldn’t start. Clark knew immediately that he had triggered a remote alarm. Using his hacksaw, he quickly sawed deep into the steering column, disabling the vehicle, and then sprinted down the drive and across the road
.
He heard a stream of cursing from the front steps of a nearby condo followed by the blast of a gun. To Clark’s trained ears, it sounded like a .350 Magnum, though he didn’t stay around long enough to confirm the make, model, and ATF serial number.
◁▷
Six hours later, Clark came back.
He bluffed his way past the security guard at the entrance of the gated community and drove his borrowed tow truck into the elegant brick parking lot rimmed by manicured hedges. He parked sideways, immediately behind the Cadillac. These condos, some of Vegas’s finest, probably went for more than a million bucks each.
The Caddy fit right in, screaming elegance and privilege—custom twenty-inch rims, beautiful leather interior, enough leg room for the Lakers’ starting five, digital readouts on the dash, and an onboard computer that allowed its owner to customize all power functions in the vehicle. The surround-sound system, of course, could rattle the windows on a car three blocks away. Cadillac had pimped this ride out fresh from the factory, making it the vehicle of choice for men like Mortavius Johnson, men who lived on the west side of Vegas and supplied “escorts” for the city’s biggest gamblers.
Clark speed-dialed 1 before he stepped out of the tow truck.
“This is stupid, Clark.”
“Good morning to you, too. Are you ready?”
“No.”
“All right. Let’s do it.” He slid the still-connected phone into a pocket of his coveralls. They were noticeably short, pulling at the crotch. He had bought the outfit on the spot from a mechanic at North Vegas Auto, the same garage where he borrowed the tow truck from the owner, a friend who had helped Clark in some prior repo schemes. A hundred and fifty bucks for the coveralls, complete with oil and grease stains. Clark had ripped off the name tag and rolled up the sleeves. It felt like junior high all over again, growing so fast the clothes couldn’t keep up with the boy.
He popped open the hood of the wrecker, smeared his fingers on some blackened oil grime, and rubbed a little grease on his forearms, with a dab to his face. He closed the hood and walked confidently to the front door of the condo, checking the paper in his hand as if looking for an address. He rang the bell.
Silence. . . . He rang it again.
Eventually, he heard heavy footsteps inside and then the clicking of a lock before the door slowly opened. Mortavius Johnson, looking like he had barely survived a rough night, filled the doorway. Clark was tall and slender—six-three, about one-ninety. But Mortavius was tall and bulky—a brooding presence who dwarfed Clark. He wore jeans and no shirt, exposing rock-solid pecs but also a good-size gut. He didn’t have a gun.
Clark glanced down at his paper while Mortavius surveyed him with bloodshot eyes.
“Are you Mortavius Johnson?”
“Yeah.”
“You call for a tow?”
Mortavius’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. The big man glanced at the pocket of Clark’s coveralls—no insignia—then around him at the tow truck. Clark had quickly spray-painted over the logo and wondered if Mortavius could tell.
Clark held his breath and considered his options. If the big man caught on, Clark would have to surprise Mortavius, Pearl Harbor–style, with a knee to the groin or a fist to the solar plexus. Even those blows would probably just stun the big man momentarily. Clark would sprint like a bandit to the tow truck, hoping Mortavius’s gun was more than arm’s length away. Clark might be able to outrun Mortavius, but not the man’s bullet.
“I left a message last night with the Cadillac dealer,” Mortavius said.
The Cadillac dealer. Clark was hoping for something a little more specific. “And the Cadillac dealer called me,” Clark said, loudly enough to be heard on the cell phone in his pocket. “You think they’ve got their own tow trucks at that place? It’s not like Caddies break down very often. If everybody could afford a Caddie, I’d go out of business.”
Clark smiled. Mortavius did not.
“What company you with?” he asked.
“Highway Auto Service,” Clark responded, louder still. He pulled out the cell phone, surreptitiously hit the End button with a thumb, then held it out to Mortavius. “You want to call my office? Speed dial 1.”
Mortavius frowned. He still looked groggy. “I’ll get the keys,” he said.
He disappeared from the doorway, and Clark let out a breath. He speed-dialed Jessica again and put the phone back in his pocket. He glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take.
Give me a break!
Another tow truck was pulling past the security guard and heading toward Mortavius’s condo. Things were getting a little dicey.
“I left some papers in the truck you’ll need to sign,” Clark called into the condo. But as soon as the words left Clark’s mouth, Mortavius reappeared in the doorway, keys in hand.
Unfortunately, he glanced past Clark, and his eyes locked on the other tow truck. A glint of understanding sparked, followed by a flash of anger. “Who sent you?” Mortavius demanded.
“I told you . . . the Cadillac place.”
“The Cadillac place,” Mortavius repeated sarcastically. “What Cadillac place?”
“Don’t remember. The name’s on the papers in my truck.”
Mortavius took a menacing step forward, and Clark felt the fear crawl up his neck. His fake sheriff’s ID was in the tow truck along with his gun. He was running out of options.
“Who sent you?” Mortavius demanded.
Clark stiffened, ready to dodge the big man’s blows. In that instant, Clark thought about the dental work the last incident like this had required. Jessica would shoot him—it wasn’t in the budget.
A hand shot out, and Clark ducked. He lunged forward and brought his knee up with all his might. But the other man was quick, and the knee hit rock-solid thigh, not groin. Clark felt himself being jerked by his collar into the foyer, the way a dog might be yanked inside by an angry owner. Before he could land a blow, Clark was up against the wall, Mortavius in his face, a knife poised against Clark’s stomach.
Where did that come from?
Mortavius kicked the door shut. “Talk fast, con man,” he hissed. “Intruders break into my home, I slice ’em up in self-defense.”
“I’m a deputy sheriff for Orange County, California,” Clark gasped. He tried to sound official, hoping that even Mortavius might think twice before killing a law enforcement officer. “In off hours, I repo vehicles.” He felt the point of the knife pressing against his gut, just below his navel, the perfect spot to start a vivisection.
“But you can keep yours,” Clark continued, talking fast. “I’m only authorized to repo if there’s no breach of the peace. Looks like this situation might not qualify.”
Mortavius inched closer. He shifted his grip from Clark’s collar to his neck, pinning Clark against the wall. “You try to gank my ride at night, then show up the next morning to tow it?”
“Something like that,” Clark admitted. The words came out whispered for lack of air.
“That takes guts,” Mortavius responded. A look that might have passed for admiration flashed across the dark eyes. “But no brains.”
“I’ve got a deal,” Clark whispered, frantic now for breath. His world was starting to cave in, stars and pyrotechnics clouding his vision.
The doorbell rang.
“Let’s hear it,” Mortavius said quietly, relaxing his stranglehold just enough so Clark could breathe.
“They’re paying me six Gs for the car,” Clark explained rapidly. He was thinking just clearly enough to fudge the numbers. “They know where you are now because I called them yesterday. Even if you kill me—” saying the words made Clark shudder a little, especially since Mortavius didn’t flinch—“they’re going to find the car. You let me tow it today and get it fixed. I’ll wire four thousand bucks into your bank account before I leave the Cadillac place. I make two thousand, and you’ve got four thousand for a down payment on your next set of wheels.”
The doorbell rang again, and Mortavius furrowed his brow. “Five Gs,” he said, scowling.
“Forty-five hundred,” Clark countered, “I’ve got a wife and—”
Ughh . . . Clark felt the wind flee his lungs as Mortavius slammed him against the wall. Pain shot from the back of his skull where it bounced off the drywall, probably leaving a dent.
“Five,” Mortavius snarled.
Clark nodded quickly.
The big man released Clark, answered the door, and chased away the other tow truck driver, explaining that there had been a mistake. As Mortavius and Clark finished negotiating deal points, Clark had another brilliant idea.
“Have you got any friends who aren’t making their payments?” he asked. “I could cut them in on the same type of deal. Say . . . fifty-fifty on the repo reward—they could use their cuts as down payments to trade up.”
“Get out of here before I hurt you,” Mortavius said.
◁▷
Clark glanced at his watch as he left the parking lot. He had less than two hours to return the tow truck and make it to the plastic surgeon’s office. He speed-dialed Jessica.
“Highway Auto Service,” she responded.
“It didn’t work,” Clark said. “I got busted.”
“You okay?”
He loved hearing the concern in her voice. He hesitated a second, then, “Not a scratch on me.”
“I told you it was a dumb idea,” Jessica said, though she sounded more relieved than upset. “You never listen. Clark Shealy knows it all.”
And he wasn’t listening now. Instead, he was doing the math again in his head. Sixteen thousand, minus Mortavius’s cut and the repair bill, would leave about ten. He thought about the logistics of making the wire transfers into accounts that Jessica wouldn’t know about.
Pulling a con on pimps like Mortavius was one thing. Getting one by Jessica was quite another.
Dynamic Uno here: I signed up for this tour through another group, so my review will come at a later time. I did want to bring this book to your attention however, because the author, Randy Singer, is donating the proceeds of this book to help the Dalits--India's lowest caste.
Stay tuned for a review within the next couple of weeks. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading!
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