Doctor's Report

The oncology appointment went very well yesterday. I had some blood work done first, then saw the doctor. Because they do the lab work right there in the office I can find out the results of the blood work the same day it's done . . . but I had to wait until the very end of the appointment. Talk about suspense.

Anyway, everything came back looking great. The cancer marker they look for, something called CEA (don't ask me what it stands for), was 0.4. 0-5.0 is normal range so the oncologist was just giddy over my low number. Cancer cells reproduce very rapidly and CEA levels in the blood increase as a result of rapidly dividing cells in the body. So if the number is elevated, it means somewhere cells are reproducing like rabbits. A good indicator that cancer has set up house somewhere. So 0.4 is about as good as it gets. Praise God.

I was also told the port in my chest can finally be removed. Surgery is scheduled for May 12. This port is the last remnant of anything having to do with cancer. Once it's gone all I have left are the scars (physically and emotionally).

This is interesting: As for my questions . . . and the doctor's responses . . .

My sudden allergy to cashews (since chemo)--never heard of chemo causing allergies but it doesn't mean it can't happen.

My continued sensitivity to sun and burning easily--chemo ended five months ago so it is out of my system but, again, doesn't mean it can't be a hold-over side effect.

My numb fingers and feet--textbooks say it always resolves, sometimes taking up to a year, but clinically sometimes it never fully resolves.

My port?--outta here!

Now that I've had cancer and chemo, is my life expectancy going to be shortened?--No. No. No. Once I make it past that magic five year mark and am officially declared cancer free it's as if I never had it in the first place (except for the scars).

So there you go. You now know as much as I do. I'm rejoicing and praising God for the good report.

The Big Follow-Up

I see the oncologist today for my first four-month follow-up. Blood work will also be done.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about this appointment, if I said I haven't been thinking about it for a couple weeks now, wondering what the blood work will show, wondering how I will react if the news isn't good. Knowing how I'll react if the news is good.

I'm seeing a patient right now who is battling cancer. She's terminal but has been holding onto the hope that things will turn around. Last week she saw her oncologist and he broke the news that the cancer is spreading and there's nothing they can do to stop it.

Reality smacked me across the cheek.

Now, I know what I'm NOT supposed to think; I know I'm NOT supposed to worry, NOT supposed to be anxious, NOT supposed to entertain negative thoughts. I try to close my mind to that stuff, but they're there, like water seeping through the cracks of a stone foundation, finding their way in.

I have questions for the doctor too. Why am I suddenly allergic to cashews? Why am I still sunburning so easily? Why are my fingertips and soles of my feet still numb? When can I get this port out of my chest?

Needless to say, today is a big day for me. My appointment is at 1:00.

In writing news, a review of Scream has been posted on the website TitleTrakk.com. Good stuff.

Some Writing Updates

The other day I got a phone message from the manager of our local Walden's bookstore saying she'd noticed Scream was selling very well and wanted to know if I'd be interested in setting up a book signing.

Never had that happen before. A store manager calling me wanting to arrange for a signing. Must be a good thing, though.

Anyway, I went in and talked to her and we scheduled one for June 20, the day before Father's Day, hoping to attract the last-minute holiday shoppers.

People keep asking me what I'm working on now. The truth is, on paper, nothing much. I'm waiting to hear back from my publisher about a further contract and don't want to start headlong on anything until I hear. If it's a go with them, I have a book idea mostly worked out in my head I'll jump right in to. If it's a no go, I have a proposal I need to pull together for another book.

So right now I'm in limbo . . . just waiting. And praying. And waiting.

And praying. And that's the business.

More ER Time . . . and Praise & Prayer

Well, last night I found myself in the ER again. Thankfully this time it had nothing to do with my bowels or cancer or anything related. I was being a good husband and washing the dishes after dinner when a glass broke and filleted the side of my hand. Three and a half hours and six stitches later I was walking out of the hospital a free man once again.

Jen said we're getting way too comfortable with hospitals; this has got to stop.

Enough of that, though, my praise is that the cut didn't get to any tendons. that would have been REALLY bad.

How 'bout you? What has God been doing in your life? What do you need prayer for?

In the News

A friend of mine put a bug in the ear of an anchor at our local FOX affiliate, FOX 43, about my battle with cancer and recent 5K run. And, well, yesterday I got a call from a reporter asking when they could come to my home and interview me. The link below is the news piece that ran last night and this morning on FOX 43 News.

http://tinyurl.com/c7uykt

Thank you, Joe!

The New Job

Well, so far so good with the new job. I REALLY enjoy it. For those just catching up here, I recently joined up with the Visiting Nurse Association administering physical therapy to patients in their home. My "territory" is Adams County, PA. For those of you who don't live around south-central PA, Adams County is a beautiful place. It's home to Gettysburg, acres and acres of national military park land, multiple small historic towns, and miles and miles of orchard land. This time of year the peach trees are in full blossom and to see a hillside covered with pink flowering trees is breathtaking.

This is what I get to drive around in all day. Awesome.

But the job is heartbreaking too. There are a lot of sad and hopeless stories out there. I've almost been brought to tears a couple times already.

Yesterday, I arrived at a house for a co-visit with another therapist. We were to see an elderly man for debility and falls prevention. When I arrived I learned he had already fallen two times that day and had a huge hematoma on his thigh. His doctor wanted him to go to the emergency room and have it checked out. So an ambulance was called to transport him.

While we waited, his wife got his coat and started helping him get it on. Then she started crying. To see an eighty-something woman crying broke my heart but what she said next just crushed it. Through her tears and struggle to dam the sobs, she said, "We've been married 67 years. I don't want to lose him." She knew what we knew: he was headed for a nursing home where he would most likely spend his remaining years.

Then, while the paramedics attended to her husband, she started crying again. I could see the pain on her face, the fear in her eyes, so I tried to console her some, but what do you say when a wife of 67 years, a true soul mate, says, "I'm just so afraid he's going to die."

I tried my best but there's only so much to say at a time like that. Unfortunately, I'll probably never see her again. That's the downer about the job.

I don't know if over time I'll become more calloused to the plight of others or more sensitive to it. I hope and pray the latter.

Wild Dogs and Smelling Like Chicken

Here's some good fodder for story ideas.

Saturday we got some broiled chicken and sides from a local family restaurant and took the kids to a reservoir in northern Maryland not too far from our home for a picnic. We found a nice spot atop a wooded ravine that overlooked the lake. It was a beautiful day, sunny, warm, breezy, quiet. We ate our dinner in peace, talking and laughing.

But there's something about the woods of northern Maryland that always creeps me out. And this time it did not disappoint.

As we finished our meal and began packing up our things, Jen said, "Hey, listen. What's that?"

We all froze. From across the lake, on the other side of the ravine, came the sound of multiple barks and howls. A pack of wild dogs communicating with each other while on the move. Cold fingers walked down my spine and from the looks on everyone else's face, those same fingers had found their spine too.

Our youngest, Caroline, started to whimper and go on about the dogs coming across the lake and eating us.

As Jen tried to calm her, Laura, our oldest, hollered, "Come here, look at this!"

I went to where she was standing and there, on the downslope of the ravine, not ten feet from the edge of the woods was a deer skin draped over a low-hanging tree limb. More of the skin was piled on the ground here and there and white and brown fur was scattered like snow all around where some struggle took place. The skin looked fairly fresh but there were no bones. It was just the skin.

Now Caroline lost it. Jen sat with her in the car and tried to console her, assure her the dogs would not find us and eat us. But Caroline, in her six-year-old mind would not be convinced. "I smell like chicken," she cried, "and they're gonna eat me."

Now, to some that may be just a weird picnic outing. Something to talk about and maybe even laugh about, but to me, man, that's great story material. A pack of half-man/half-dog creatures terrorizing a state park area. Great stuff. My imagination is in overdrive and I'm lovin' it!

BoneMan's Daughters by Ted Dekker

This week, the
Christian Fiction Blog Alliance
is introducing

Boneman's Daughters
Center Street (April 14, 2009)
by
Ted Dekker



ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Ted is the son of missionaries John and Helen Dekker, whose incredible story of life among headhunters in Indonesia has been told in several books. Surrounded by the vivid colors of the jungle and a myriad of cultures, each steeped in their own interpretation of life and faith, Dekker received a first-class education on human nature and behavior. This, he believes, is the foundation of his writing.

After graduating from a multi-cultural high school, he took up permanent residence in the United States to study Religion and Philosophy. After earning his Bachelor's Degree, Dekker entered the corporate world in management for a large healthcare company in California. Dekker was quickly recognized as a talent in the field of marketing and was soon promoted to Director of Marketing. This experience gave him a background which enabled him to eventually form his own company and steadily climb the corporate ladder.

Since 1997, Dekker has written full-time. He states that each time he writes, he finds his understanding of life and love just a little clearer and his expression of that understanding a little more vivid. Dekker's body of work encompassing seven mysteries, three thrillers and ten fantasies includes Heaven's Wager, When Heaven Weeps, Thunder of Heaven, Blessed Child, A Man Called Blessed, Blink, Thr3e, The Circle Trilogy (Black, Red, White), Obsessed, Renegade, and Chaos.



ABOUT THE BOOK

Would you kill an innocent man to save your daughter?

They call him BoneMan, a serial killer who’s abducted six young women. He’s the perfect father looking for the perfect daughter, and when his victims fail to meet his lofty expectations, he kills them by breaking their bones and leaving them to die.

Intelligence officer Ryan Evans, on the other hand, has lost all hope of ever being the perfect father. His daughter and wife have written him out of their lives.

Everything changes when BoneMan takes Ryan’s estranged daughter, Bethany, as his seventh victim. Ryan goes after BoneMan on his own.

But the FBI sees it differently. New evidence points to the suspicion that Ryan is BoneMan. Now the hunter is the hunted, and in the end, only one father will stand.


If your an avid Dekker fan, and would like wallpaper and counters for your blog, go HERE.

You can listen to an audio clip HERE

Watch the VIDEO:




If you would like to read the first chapter of Boneman's Daughters, go HERE

Praise and Prayer Friday

Thank you to those who commented on my post yesterday. You encouraged me and set my mind at ease. I'm not nuts afterall! Whew!

Now, I'm anxious to hear from you. Leave a comment stating a few prayer requests or praises we can keep in mind going into this next week. Uplifting one another in prayer is such an important part of the Body of Christ. Let's take advantage of this unique opportunity we have to intercede for one another.

My praise is that I've got four weeks of my new job under my belt. Things are still a bit overwhelming but settling down and becoming more clear.

My request is that I can find the time and motivation to get working on a couple new novel proposals. I have part of them ready to go but need to get my you-know-what in gear and finish them up so I can send them on to my agent and get them in front of some editors' eyes.

Hey, have a great weekend. Here in PA it's supposed to be a beautiful one!

Fatal Illusions by Adam Blumer

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:

Adam Blumer

and the book:

Fatal Illusions

Kregel Publications (March 5, 2009)

My Thoughts: Adam is a friend of mine who has written a truly great suspense novel. His characters are believable, his villain real enough keep you looking over your shoulder, and the plot is fast-paced and unique. Fatal Illusions is one of those stories you have to keep reading and then think about after you've finished the last page. I also admire Adam's ability to weave spiritual truths and themes into the story. That's something I feel is important and he does, too. If you like suspense, this is a book I recommend you add to your collection . . . and even if you don't like suspense, I'm sure there's something about this story you'll love.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Adam Blumer graduated from Bob Jones University with a degree in a print journalism. Since childhood he has been writing stories and has since been published in a variety of periodicals. He lives in Michigan with his wife and their two daughters.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 400 pages
Publisher: Kregel Publications (March 5, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0825420989
ISBN-13: 978-0825420986



AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue

As dusk settled over the suburban Cincinnati neighborhood, the sodium-vapor lights along the quiet street blinked and came to life on cue. They chased the shadows from the grade school parking lot, now littered with dried leaves that scraped across the pavement and swirled in their seasonal dance of joy.

Across the way, a man in a jet-black jogging suit eased behind a tree and checked his watch as the chilly breeze tousled his hair. He breathed deeply, noting the intoxicating aroma of burning leaves, and impatiently studied the faces of the pedestrians now strolling toward the school auditorium. Anxious children tugged at reluctant parents, their excitement barely contained.

“Yes, yes,” he overheard a woman tell a child. “We’ll get there in plenty of time. No need to rush.”

He smiled. He had been that overzealous child once, but that was a long time ago. He’d grown up, things had changed, and not every change had been welcome.

His smile faded as he continued to search for a certain bespectacled face. He’d been watching her for weeks and knew everything about her: when she got up in the morning, when she went to bed, where she went each day, how she spent her time. He even knew she was failing English for the second time, even after her teacher had given her a two-week extension on her term paper. Going through her trash, he’d discovered her addiction to Snickers bars, her affection for Ruffles potato chips and cream soda, and her preference for Pantene shampoo, which added luster to the blond hair she wore long and wavy.

A familiar red nylon jacket caught his eye, and he sucked in his breath. Concealing himself further behind the tree, he waited for her to pass.

Hmm. She was so close. He could have reached out, could have touched her hair. But he steadied his breathing and let the moment pass, deciding that reason must win the battle with emotion. There were simply too many people around who might see him and remember his face. He watched as she strolled into the school with her two charges in tow, carefree and unsuspecting.

Just the way he wanted her.

He took another deep breath, surprised by how calm he felt tonight. He knew what he needed to do and realized he had the resolve to execute his plan. Now all he needed was the opportunity, but waiting had never been easy for him. He could hear his mother’s chiding words strumming across the strings of his memory.

You’re so impatient, Donny. So restless. Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?

Time to get inside.

***

Someone was watching her. For weeks, she’d felt unseen eyes following her every move. Evaluating. Judging. But when she would whirl around, no one was ever there—just brittle leaves scudding across the empty sidewalks.

“C’mon, you two. Hurry up.”

Clutching their hands with icy fingers, Erin yanked Daphne and Thomas along to match her stride. It was bad enough that she was stuck taking care of these first-grade brats on a Friday night. Worse, the evening’s entertainment promised to be a childish, elementary school musical, and she had better things to do with her time.

She’d been planning to give Sheryl a cut and dye job tonight. Her hairdressing service brought in more money than babysitting, but her mom had said she owed the Spensers a favor.

Yeah, whatever.

Erin wished for her father right now. Divorced from her mom and recently remarried, he had moved three states away, leaving them with the mortgage and a barely enough paycheck from her mom’s job as a nighttime gas station attendant. Her mom had said he was a no-good lowlife, that they were better off without him, but Erin wasn’t so sure. She had fond memories of her dad taking her ice-skating, just the two of them. He had shown her the spins he’d mastered as a young man, when he had almost qualified for the Olympics.

Almost. Dreams are never easy, he’d told her. You have to work hard and never, ever give up.

One more year and she would graduate from high school. Maybe then she could free herself from her mother’s stranglehold and open the beautician’s shop she’d always wanted.

The lights of Bridgetown Elementary glimmered against the darkening sky, the crisp wind swirling the leaves at her feet. She wished she’d worn her jean jacket instead of the thin, red windbreaker. She pushed her wire rim glasses up on her nose and glanced at her watch, realizing that in her reverie she’d slowed her stride.

“C’mon, we’re going to be late if you two don’t hurry,” she said.

“Slow down!” Daphne cried. “We can’t keep up.”

Erin peered down into Daphne’s frustrated hazel eyes. “Look, I’ll let you wear my watch if you’ll get a move on.”

Daphne squealed. “Cool!”

Though they were five minutes late, the program hadn’t yet started. But Erin realized that they should have come much earlier if they’d wanted to get a good seat. The place was packed, and she didn’t see an open row anywhere.

Biting her lip, she spied a friend coming down the aisle toward her. Laurie was a stagehand—and, as it happened, she was also the solution to their problem. She had been saving seats for her mother and sisters, but they’d all been waylaid by food poisoning or something, and wouldn’t be coming.

Three seats. Right in front. Perfect.

Erin couldn’t help smiling smugly as Laurie escorted them to the front row like celebrities at the Academy Awards, minus the red carpet pre-show, of course. She felt the indignant glares drilling into her back from those who had arrived a half hour early to get their seats. She felt a rush of pleasure at the realization that she was the cause of their indignation.

Let them sulk. Sometimes good things happen when you least expect it.

Her mind replayed a similar thrill she’d felt just a month ago, when she’d been summoned to give testimony in a big court case downtown.

***

She’d done up her hair special, dry-cleaned her special navy twin set, and worn her new high-heeled shoes, which made her short, lithe figure seem several inches taller. Approaching the stand, she had, for once in her life, felt important; felt as if every eye in the room was glued to her, mesmerized by this long-haired, blonde goddess with the porcelain skin and sapphire blue eyes. She hadn’t realized until later how important her testimony had been.

“And you saw the defendants enter Margaret Stowe’s house?” Stan Loomis, the prosecuting attorney, had asked.

“That’s right.”

“And you’re sure it was Walter and Virginia Owens. You’re positive?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember, Miss Walker, you are under oath. You saw their faces?”

She had bitten her lip as she tried to remember.

She had just finished house-sitting for Mrs. Stowe, as another way to make some extra money. The old lady was loaded. She had said good night to Mrs. Stowe and had walked off, feeling giddy at the sizable check. Almost to her car, she’d dropped her keys and bent to pick them up. Hearing voices, she’d glanced back and had seen two people walking up the sidewalk to Mrs. Stowe’s front door.

A man and a woman, wearing long, dark overcoats. They had looked wealthy. The man had placed his black-gloved hand at the middle of the woman’s back.

“You don’t think she’ll mind?” the woman had asked, a musical quality to her husky voice. “It’s late.”

“You’re right. It is late. Too late.” The man’s voice had sounded rough, like a smoker’s. “She can’t turn us away now.”

Standing beside her car, Erin had watched as the man knocked. When the door opened, a band of light had slashed across their faces for an instant before they disappeared inside.

Staring unflinchingly at Stan Loomis, she had said, “Yes, it was them. I’m sure of it.” She’d pushed away the fact that the encounter at Mrs. Stowe’s house had occurred the week before she’d gotten her new glasses.

“For the benefit of the jury, would you please point out who you saw?”

Her hand had trembled as she pointed to the pale-faced Owenses, who sulked beside their defense attorney. They didn’t flinch. They didn’t move. But their eyes—they hated her. They wanted her dead. Ever since, those eyes had stared back at her in her dreams.

Those dark, hateful eyes.

Looking for Some Help . . . Am I Nuts?

I've always been a sentimental person. I've always been a homebody. I like being home with my family. Is that wrong? I don't think so.

But here's the thing. Lately, and really, since the whole cancer thing, I've been REALLY sentimental, feeling homesick even when I'm home. There have been times when I've gone in the girls' room after they've fallen asleep and just watched them sleep . . . and cried. I've gone in late at night and laid on the floor in their room just to be close to them. I have this extreme fear of losing them.

I go through phases where I'm overly attached to Jen. I get something almost like separation anxiety when we're apart.

And my nerves seem like their always stretched pretty tight. It doesn't take much to get the tears flowing. My feelings get hurt easily and I feel insecure.

Now, lest you think I've really lost my marbles, this isn't all the time. What I described above comes and goes. Stress seems to bring it on but not always. It seems to come in waves.

Is this normal? Probably not, but my really question is: Is it normal for a cancer survivor? I've heard you never really get over a battle with cancer. It changes you, leaves something there that is a constant reminder of your mortality and the mortality of everyone you love.

So here's what I need help with. For anyone reading this who either is a cancer survivor or who has lived with one, what do you think? What's been your experience? Do you still struggle with these kinds of feelings? Do you still wrestle with the fear of loss or separation?

Or am I just nuts?

Dealing With the Worst Day of Your Life

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:

Brian Zahnd

and the book:

What To Do On the Worst Day of Your Life

Christian Life (March 3, 2009)

My Thoughts: Do you know what the worst day of your life was? I do. It was day number three in the hospital after my colon resection surgery for colon cancer. I hadn't slept much any of the nights in the hospital, I was worried about the outcome of the surgery, I missed my family and not being home terribly, I had nurses coming into my room every couple hours emptying one bag or another attached to me, my catheter wasn't working right, and I'd had about enough. I hit bottom. Talk about depression. I remember in the evening sitting in my hospital bed and just sobbing. I finally called Jen and told her I needed her to come over to the hospital right away. I just needed her there with me.

I think the nurse noticed my fragile state as well because later that night she came in and said, "Okay, Mike, I talked to the surgeon and he said we can take the catheter out now."

That helped . . . . a lot.

Look, everyone has bad days, and everyone has a worst day of all. At least it seems like it at the time. Bad days are part of life, but how is the Christian supposed to respond to them? In this book Brian Zahnd helps us wade through those days. With practical insights and Scriptural truths, this book is loaded with good, useful information. I highly recommend it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Brian Zahnd is the founder and senior pastor of Word of Life Church, a congregation in St. Joseph, Missouri. He and his wife, Peri, have three sons.


Visit the author's website.



Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Hardcover: 160 pages
Publisher: Christian Life (March 3, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1599797267
ISBN-13: 978-1599797267

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Weep

As David stood among the smoldering ruins of what had been his home, he wept. As he faced the awful fact that the Amalekites had in one day reduced him to financial ruin, he wept. As he contemplated the terrifying reality that cruel and murderous bandits had kidnapped his family, he wept. All he could do was cry. Hot tears flowed down his face, and heavy sobs made his body convulse. The only outlet David could find for the fear and the anger and the pain that seized his soul was weeping.

David was not alone in his weeping. Six hundred men, all of them strong and valiant soldiers, men who had faced death many times without a hint of fear, now wept openly and uncontrollably. Many of these men were the champions whose heroic deeds would become legendary in Israel. These weren't weak men. These weren't men prone to emotional histrionics. But they couldn't hold back the hot, salty tears, nor did they want to. The biblical narration tells us they wept until they had no more power to weep. Powerful men wept until weeping had drained their power. They cried and cried until they were too tired to cry anymore.

What do you do when trouble hits you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you and makes you feel that it must be the worst day of your life? The first thing you do is to go ahead and weep. Stoicism has nothing to do with faith. Living by faith is not living without feelings. Being strong in faith does not make us immune to emotion. Those who live by faith experience emotion like everybody else--they just don't allow emotion to have the last word. God has created us as emotional beings; it is part of our human nature. Emotions are an essential part of experiencing pleasure and joy in life. Those who deny their emotional makeup become people with bland personalities incapable of really enjoying life. To deny true sorrow is also to deny true joy. Having a flat, prosaic personality is not what it means to be a person of faith.

You cannot even worship God without involving your emotions. David, who is depicted in Scripture as a great worshiper of God, was highly demonstrative in his worship. He would sing, shout, and dance in his praise of God. We can involve the full range of our emotions when we worship God. The emotion that proceeds from a deep understanding of God's glory and goodness is filled with spiritual substance and is both vital and valid in worship. It should not be confused with empty emotionalism, which is emotion for emotion's sake.

If you can contemplate the rich salvation accomplished for you through the suffering of Jesus Christ upon the cross and be completely devoid of any emotional response, there is something wrong. God has made us to feel things. We feel joy, we feel peace, we feel excitement, we feel anger, and we feel sadness--this is how God created human beings. To deny these emotions is to deny your humanity. When the troubles of life strike us with particularly cruel blows, it's natural and perfectly acceptable--and perhaps even helpful--to respond with weeping. Weeping is not inconsistent with faith. Some of the greatest giants of faith in the Bible wept:

Abraham, the father of faith, wept at the death of his wife Sarah.

When Jacob met his future bride Rachel, he was so overwhelmed that he wept.

When Joseph was reunited with his estranged brothers, he wept.

Hezekiah wept when he received the bad report that he would die from his illlness.

Nehemiah wept over the sad state of Jerusalem.

Job wept in the midst of his trial.

The prophet Jeremiah wept over the sins of Israel.

Peter wept over his failure and betrayal of Christ.

Paul wept in the middle of his trials.

John wept during his heavenly visions.

Even Jesus wept!

The weeping of Jesus is a powerful testimony to the fullness of His humanity. There is much sorrow in this fallen world, and men and women have many reasons to weep.

One of our most beloved Christmas carols is Away in a Manger. Recently, while splitting wood on a subzero day during the Christmas season, I found myself humming the melody as the words circled through my mind:

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,

The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head.

The stars in the sky looked down where He lay,

The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes,

But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes . . . 1

I stopped right there. Baby Jesus doesn't cry? Of course He does. Like every baby, Jesus cried at birth. Like every baby, Jesus cried when He was hungry. Like every child, Jesus cried when He was hurt or unhappy. The baby Jesus who doesn't cry is the halo Jesus--the Jesus depicted so often in religious art. The problem with the halo Jesus is that He is not human. A baby who doesn't cry is not human. A person who doesn't cry is lacking in humanity. Jesus cried. He cried as a baby, as a child, and as a man. He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Jesus cried. He shed the tears of God.

God in Christ shed tears? This is an astounding acknowledgment. But nothing that is common to man was kept from God in Christ. Not birth, nor death; not trial, nor temptation; not sorrow, nor suffering. And not tears.

Some theologians have argued for the doctrine of divine impassibility. This doctrine, which states that God is without passion or emotion, was first developed by early theologians who were heavily influenced by Greek philosophers. It was later adopted by some of the Reformation theologians. Well, I have a bone to pick with these theologians. They have woefully underestimated the Incarnation. Christ is not God masquerading as human. The Incarnation is God made fully human--and tears are part of the human condition. Thus, in Christ we find not divine impassibility but divine suffering. We find the tears of God. These tears are integral to our salvation. For, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer observed, Only the suffering God can help. It's interesting to note that as a direct result of the Holocaust, most theologians now reject divine impassibility. Apparently, the notion that God adopts a passive attitude toward human suffering is no longer tenable in light of the horrendous suffering of the Holocaust.

It's not the Stoic Greek philosophers who reflect the heart of God, but the weeping Hebrew prophets--not Zeno the Stoic philosopher, but Jeremiah the weeping prophet. The prophets wept because God weeps. Jesus wept because God weeps. The Word became flesh that God might join us in our tears.

Joy Comes in the Morning

Yet, the tears of God are not tears of mere commiseration. These are holy tears that lead to our liberation--liberation from the dominion of sorrow. God in Christ did not join us in sorrow merely as an experiment in empathy. He joined us in sorrow that He might lead us to the joy that comes in the morning. Jesus has entered fully into the new morning of resurrection. The rest of creation groans, eagerly awaiting the promised liberation.

In the meantime, we who suffer are comforted with the knowledge that we are not alone in our suffering. Jesus joined us in our suffering and shed the tears of God. It is in those tears that we will ultimately find joy unspeakable and full of glory.

In the first Advent two thousand years ago, God in Christ joined us in our tears. The Son of God was born in tears, like every baby that has ever been born. In His second Advent, or Second Coming, God in Christ will join us again, this time to wipe away all of our tears!

In the course of my life and ministry, I've had my own nights of weeping. When I was just a young twenty-two-year-old pastor, I wept as a disgruntled man in the church stood in a service and shouted, Ichabod, Ichabod, the glory is departed, and then led half the congregation to leave the church. Later, there were times when the pressure and stress became so severe that I was reduced to tears during a very difficult multimillion-dollar building project. I wept when I stood in a hospital room with grieving parents as their teenage son was pronounced dead. There have been times of tears still too personal to talk about. I can say with the apostle Paul that I have served the Lord with many tears.

The Bible says there is a time to weep,14 and that cannot be denied. It would be an added cruelty to deny yourself or others tears in times of tragedy or deep personal pain.

But there is also a time to dry your tears and stop weeping. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

There is a night of weeping, but there is also a dawn of faith. When the morning comes, it is time to stop weeping and start rejoicing in God. If you continue to weep . . . if you continue to hold on to your grief and sorrow, it will turn into self-pity, which can destroy your faith and prevent you from coming out of your pain and into a place of victory.

It's important to realize there is a perverse weeping that is founded in self-pity and sinful unbelief. Such weeping arouses the anger of God. When the wilderness generation of Israelites were filled with cravings for the meat, fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic they used to eat as slaves in Egypt and complained and wept because all they had to eat in the wilderness was the manna God supernaturally supplied to them, Òthe anger of the Lord was greatly aroused

Sinful unbelief led the wilderness generation of Israelites to weep in fear and self-pity. This kind of weeping aroused the anger of God. You will never move out of a place of personal misery into a better and healthier place if you become locked into perpetual self-pity--it's one of the most destructive emotional states a human being can indulge in, and it must be resisted. Even when you have encountered the worst day of your life, there comes a time when you have cried enough. Eventually you must tell yourself, Enough is enough, and make up your mind to cry no more. Never forget that self-pity is deadly. It has the capacity to destroy your faith and lock you in a self-imposed exile that is difficult to escape. The bottom line is you will never change your life by feeling sorry for yourself.

Listen for the Sound of Marching

There is an interesting story in 2 Samuel 5 about the time when David and his army were in the Valley of Rephaim (rephaim means giants). They were camped under a grove of mulberry trees. In the Hebrew language, the mulberry tree is called the baka tree or, literally, Òthe weeping tree. In other words, when the army of Israel was in the valley of giant trouble, they sat under the weeping trees. That is what we often do when we find ourselves in the valley of big-time trouble--we sit under the weeping tree. But God gave David a strategy to defeat the Philistines in the Valley of Giants. He told David, ÒWhen you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the mulberry trees, then you shall advance quickly. If David would follow these instructions, the promise was, Òthe Lord will go out before you to strike the camp of the Philistines.

I like that! God instructed David to listen for a sound that could be heard above the mulberry trees--a sound that could be heard above the weeping. It was the sound of marching. What was it? I think it must have been the sound of the angels, the armies of heaven, going forth into battle! When all you can hear is the sound of your own weeping, listen with your spiritual ears for the sound of the angels of God marching into your battle to defeat your adversaries. If you will dry your tears and rise up from under your weeping tree, you can march forward into the battle with the angels. There is a way to move from weeping into victory.

I have seen people who have allowed their grief to conquer them. It's sad and tragic. Their faith atrophies as they languish under the weeping trees. They become so absorbed in their own sorrow that they take it on as their new identity. Instead of passing through the valley of weeping--they make a decision to take up residence there. Natural sorrow, when indulged for too long, will cause you to develop a dark and morose personality that will attract demon spirits of depression. No matter what tragedy has visited your life, you still have a divine destiny and an eternal purpose in God that have the potential to bring you joy and satisfaction. Don't allow grief to conquer you! You don't have to stay in the sad place where you find yourself right now. It is possible to rise up and take the steps of faith that will carry you toward a better tomorrow.

The Book of 2 Kings tells an amazing story of four lepers outside the gate of Samaria who had suffered more than their share of hard times. They all had an incurable disease. They were separated from their families and friends, and now they were besieged by famine. They could have easily allowed themselves to be conquered by their grief, and few would have blamed them. But instead, they asked themselves one simple question: Why sit we here until we die?

These four men weren't just lepers; they were philosophers of a sort. In their miserable plight, they posed a philosophical question to themselves: Why should we just sit here until we're dead? People who have been overwhelmed with sorrow often ask all the wrong questions--questions like: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? How much more will I have to endure? But this was not the question that the four lepers outside the gate of Samaria asked. They simply asked themselves, ÒWhy sit we here until we die? Of course, this is a rhetorical question designed to reveal the absurdity of inaction and thus spur them to some kind of positive action. They chose to shake off their depression and to rise up from the miserable place where they had been sitting. With hope renewed, they took faltering steps of faith and marched into a better tomorrow. By rising up and moving forward in faith, they not only found a better tomorrow for themselves, but they also brought salvation to a dying city.19 You can do the same thing. You can rise up out of your miserable situation and begin to move toward a better tomorrow.

On the worst day of your life you will weep. This is inevitable and understandable. David did, and you will too. It's all right to release the poison of pent-up emotional pain through weeping. But remember, although weeping may last for a night, there will come a dawn of faith when you need to stop weeping and start believing. To turn your tragedy into triumph, you will have to go beyond weeping.

Deadlock by Robert Liparulo

This week, the
Christian Fiction Blog Alliance
is introducing
Deadlock
Thomas Nelson (April 2009)
by
Robert Liparulo

I've been following Robert Liparulo since his first book Comes a Horseman hit the shelves . . . and he hasn't disappointed me yet (and I don't suspect he will). If you're looking for a great, fast-paced story with interesting characters and a unique plot, Deadlock is the book. And there's some great writing there, too. I've learned a lot from the style and plot development techniques of Liparulo. One thing that fascinated me about Deadlock was this whole idea of hired guns, super soldiers contracted out by the military to take on top-secret missions. Which brings up another point: Liparulo's attention to research is obvious in his books. He's one of those writer's who inspires me to keep going and keep writing . . . and he really is a genuinely great guy.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:


Robert Liparulo is a former journalist, with over a thousand articles and multiple writing awards to his name. Readers of his action-thrillers were not surprised when his visual storytelling style caught the eye of Hollywood producers. Currently, three of his novels for adults are in various stages of development for the big screen: the film rights to Comes A Horseman were purchased by the producer of Tom Clancy’s movies; and Liparulo is penning the screenplays for GERM and Deadfall for two top producers. He is also working with the director Andrew Davis (The Fugitive, Holes) on a political thriller. Novelist Michael Palmer calls Deadfall “a brilliantly crafted thriller.” March 31st marked the publication of Deadfall’s follow-up, Deadlock, which novelist Gayle Lynds calls, “best of high-octane suspense.”

Liparulo’s bestselling young adult series, Dreamhouse Kings, debuted last year with House of Dark Shadows and Watcher in the Woods. Book three, Gatekeepers released in January, and number four, Timescape, comes out in July. The series has garnered praise from readers, both young and old, as well as attracting famous fans who themselves know the genre inside and out. Of the series Goosebumps creator R.L. Stine says, “I loved wandering around in these books. With a house of so many great, haunting stories, why would you ever want to go outside?”

He is currently working on his next thriller, which for the first time injects a bit of the supernatural into his gun-blazing stories. The story is so compelling, two Hollywood studios are already in talks to acquire it—despite its publication date being more than a year away. After that comes a trilogy of novels, based on the critically acclaimed short story he contributed to James Patterson’s Thriller anthology. New York Times bestselling author Steve Berry calls Liparulo’s writing “Inventive, suspenseful, and highly entertaining . . . Robert Liparulo is a storyteller, pure and simple.” He lives with his family in Colorado.


ABOUT THE BOOK

John Hutchinson thinks it's no coincidence that Brendan Page runs this modern Praetorian Guard, and that the billionaire military industrialist must have had something to do with the atrocities his son Declan committed in Canada. The Canadian and U.S. Justice departments disagree, but Hutch has been digging for dirt ever since.

Brendan Page has some dirty not-so-little secrets. he's built an empire on supplying futuristic weapons and highly trained soldiers to the world's most powerful armies. But he's saved his most destructive weapons for himself.

When Hutch discovers the secret of Page's success, Page decides to teach him a lesson. But the operation goes terribly wrong, and Hutch's son is kidnapped. While a lone man stands little chance against the best black op soldiers ever issued M-16s, Hutch manages to survive longer than Page anticipated. As far as Hutch is concerned, high-tech helmets, machine guns, and hand grenades are nothing compared to a man determined to save his son. It's a lesson he sets out to teach Page-and one that he can only hope works as well in the real world as it does in his heart.

If you would like to read the first chapter of Deadlock, go HERE

Gussied Up to Celebrate

I trust everyone had a beautiful Easter celebrating the resurrection of our Lord.

Easter is always a special Sunday. There's an electricity in the air at church. Smiles on every face, more chatter, more hugs, more laughs. People I haven't seen since, well, last Easter. Women and children gussied up in their Sunday finest. The singing seems extra lively, the sermon extra meaningful. It's a day of celebration and every one knows it.

But shouldn't every day be like that for the Christian?

Every day we're given another chance, life anew, air to breath. Every day we're one day closer to realizing the full impact of what Jesus' resurrection means for us. He conquered death, took the sting right out of it, and we will too. That's something to rejoice over . . . every day.

But still, I'm thankful for Easter, that special day to remind and refocus and recenter all of us.

I mentioned women and children getting gussied up. Know where that saying came from? Gussied up? Here's something interesting. No one knows for sure but the strongest theory is that comes from the French word gousset, which dates to the middle ages. A gousset was a triangular piece of material put into a garment so it fits better. The more goussets a garment had, the fancier it was thought to be. The English word gusset comes from gousset and it is supposed gussied comes from gusset. Got that?

Good Friday Thanksgiving

Good Friday is here, the day we remember the ultimate sacrifice, when God Himself, wrapped in human flesh, took the sins of the world, my sins, upon His own shoulders and suffered an incomprehensible death for me . . . for the world. The punishment for my sins and the sins of mankind were placed upon an innocent man. Think about that. And He willfully bore that burden and accepted the pain and torture and death.

Man, what kind of love must that be?

I'd like to hear from you today, but just words of thanksgiving for His sacrifice that brought our salvation.

Welcome to my life, e-style

Here's something a little different. I'd like you to take a brief tour of my life, e-style. Sort of a unique way to get to know me and my surroundings a little better. Maybe some of you other bloggers can do the same thing . . .

The church I attend (and serve as an elder).

The company I work for as a physical therapist assistant.

My hometown.

The newspaper I write for (I write a bi-weekly column called "Ask the Author").

Where we like to hike and spend time outdoors as a family (5 minutes from our house).

The radio station I listen to (you can listen online too!).

That's my life (as it appears online) in a nutshell.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention before, I've been invited to be part of the faculty at this year's Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer's Conference. I'll be teaching a workshop and doing critiques. The conference is in August and registration is open now for anyone looking for a great conference to attend this year.

Love

The more I work with the public and the more time I spend with the public and observe the public (I'm a card-carrying people-watcher) you know what the one glaring thing I notice is missing? Maybe you've noticed it too.

Love.

This is a dark, self-centered, hope-void, world we live in.

Think about it. If Christians really loved one another, I mean lived love, oozed loved, shined like little love-lights everywhere they went, don't you think the world would notice? Don't you think they'd sit up and say, "Hey, there's something different with those people and I want whatever it is they have."

If we consistently loved we could change our world.

Love brings forth mercy and understanding, patience, forgiveness, kindness, selflessness. All things this world could use a little more of. All things that would stick out like a sore thumb.

It's all about love. It always has been.

Here's a challenge: practice love wherever you go. I'm talking some 1960's hippies Make Love Not War thing. I'm talking genuine selfless love. The kind that puts others ahead of ourselves. The kind that's quick to forgive and slow to condemn. I'm talking the kind that says, "I love you because I was loved when I was so undeserving." Be intentional about it. Think of others first. Check your temper. Choose your words carefully.

I promise you this, if you show love wherever you go you will stand out, you will shine like a star, you will make a difference. That's guaranteed.

Hey, if you want a little pep talk, read 1 John. It's all about love. Here's a few verses to whet your appetite.

This is the message you've heard from the beginning, you should love one another.

Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.

Let us love one another, for love comes from God.

This is love: not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

Rocky and Me

Last Sunday a news item ran on Fox 29 in Philadelphia commenting on the statue of Rocky by the art musuem and how that statue and the legend of Rocky inspires so many. You can view the piece here and see yours truly and his kiddies. Pretty cool stuff.

Praise and Prayer Friday

Another Friday has come and I'm looking forward to seeing what God has put on your heart today. Share with us what great things God has done this week and what burdens you carry. I know there are people who read this blog who pray for each request that is posted and rejoice with each praise. It's a time of bonding for all of us!

I have a few praises. One, my week of work went very well. I think I'm really going to like this new job. Two, yesterday I did a half hour interview with Larry Hauer, director of Campus Crusade for Christ's nationally syndicated radio program, "The Lighthouse Report." He wanted to talk to me about my vision for Scream to be used as an evangelistic tool. And three, both The Hunted and Scream are right around the corner from going into a second printing.

As a request, please pray that next week goes well at work. We do all our documentation on a laptop and next week is my week to learn the software and the ins and outs of the computer system. Every tells me it's a very stressful and frustrating time.

So what's on your heart?

Sticks and Stones by Ace Collins

You know it's not often I review a book on one of my regular posting days (I may start reviewing some on Tuesdays and Thursdays . . . so be warned!). But occasionally I do.

This is one of those occasions.

Sticks and Stones by Ace Collins is a little book of about 220 pages, an easy read, that has the potential to impact many lives and cause those many lives to impact many more lives. It's all about using our words, both written and spoken, to positively influence someone else's life. To encourage, exhort, praise, support, empathize.

We all know the power of words, how hurtful they can be and how uplifting they can be. Collins lays out a very plain argument for purposefully using our words for good. Our words have the ability to change someone's life . . . quite literally. Few realize what a potent tool words are.

This is something I learned through my journey with cancer. So often we want to thank someone, encourage someone, praise someone, or just state a few words of appreciation, but never do for one reason or another. Facing cancer taught me that life is short and fragile and if we have something to say to someone, especially if that something is positive, then by golly say it! Because you may never get another chance. Tell them to their face, write a letter, or send an email . . . but tell them what they mean to you or how much you appreciate them. Point out their positive traits and how those traits have impacted you.

A few words of encouragement or appreciation go such a long way. Why not start today and be purposeful in the words you use. Change someone's life.

Here's a little more about the author and book.

Ace Collins is a prolific author, publishing over sixty non-fiction books and has now opened the door to language barriers both positive and negative. Collins is slated to release Sticks and Stones (Zondervan, March 2009) on the heels of his first novel, Farraday Road.

With earthy wisdom, simple action points and his trademark gift for storytelling, bestselling author Ace Collins shows how—and why—to make the words used each day count. From a friendly hello, to a handwritten thank-you note, to a thoughtful phone call, words can have a positive impact in a negative world. Of the roughly thirty-thousand words spoken by most people every day, Collins challenges readers to imagine if just a handful of them could save a life or heal a broken heart or inspire a vision that would shape the course of history. He urges that today is an opportunity to speak—or write—words of incalculable potential for good.
With simple action points and colorful stories, this inspiring book will help weed out sticks-and-stones negativism and unleash the surpassing, life-giving, destiny-shaping power of positive words.

What does it take for words to make a difference?

Perhaps a simple thank-you letter or an encouraging email, a simple hello, a thoughtful phone call, a note written on the back of a family photograph — the possibilities are endless. Sticks and Stones shows the power and importance of words and how to use the right words to have a positive impact beyond anything you can imagine.

About the Author:
Ace Collins is the writer of more than sixty books, including several bestsellers: Stories behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas, Stories behind the Great Traditions of Christmas, The Cathedrals and Lassie: A Dog’s Life. Based in Texas, he continues to publish several new titles each year. He has appeared on scores of television shows, including CBS This Morning, NBC Nightly News, Good Morning America and Entertainment Tonight, along with appearances on CNN and MSNBC.

Learn more about Ace at http://acecollins.com.

Order the book on Amazon.

See what other bloggers are saying about the book.

Sticks and Stones Release:
March 2009Hard cover, 224 pp., $16.99
Non-Fiction
ISBN: 0310282535