How many times in my life, and yours as well I imagine, have I either uttered or heard uttered the words "Its Not Fair!" regarding everything from household chores, homework assignments, failed relationships or just life in general? Well lets just say if I had a dollar for ....
Most of us grew up as children being taught things like "if you try hard enough you could be...." fill in the blank: President, Astronaut, Famous Actor, Lawyer... the list can go on and on depending on what it was you aspired to be. And we also grew up in that childhood innocence with a certain model of how things were supposed to go in life, either from our parents if you were lucky, or from the TV shows of the day showing happy American Family Life. We were blissfully hopefull and unaware of what lies ahead.
The model goes something like this: Go to school. Be a good citizen. Attend church regularly. Graduate High School. (Depending on your age group/generation) Join Military or Go to College. Meet Girl/Boy of dreams. Get married. Get job. Raise Kids. Take them to church with you. Retire. Grandchildren. Cycle repeats itself with your kids. You die. (If you are Baptist then hopefully someone went over the Romans Road to Salvation thing so you can go to heaven and not burn in hell - but thats really a different blog topic).
But something along the way breaks with this model. Your parents divorce or worse one dies from cancer. That wasn't on the television? Or your folks were just normal middle class and struggled just to make ends meet so there was no free ride to college and your dreams of becoming an attorney were just that: dreams. A difficult reality to achieve. Not impossible, but not an easy road like some folks. Or you have a health issue that limits your abilities. Maybe you are plagued by other issues.
Maybe your experience was different. Maybe you were born into privilege and most of this stuff was expected and delivered. The American Dream was literally laid at your feet. Maybe your plugged into social expectations and fulfilled them, only to be left, well, unfulfilled yourself. You climbed the ladder that was in front of you only to discover it was leaning against the wrong wall. (Stephen Covey thing there).
I did a privilege exercise once and it was very interesting. Folks in the group lined up next to one another, then took a step forward "if this" was part of your upbringing, or a "step back" if this was... etc. At the end of the exercise many were way up in front and many were not. And it wasn't because of their own effort or lack of it that anyone was where they were. Just things in life. Money, position, motivation, encouragement, family structure, and other variables. Not one thing about your own effort. And that left an impression on me and may others in the group.
Life really isn't fair. We really all can't be President. Too many of us and too less of them anyway. We can't all be born to billionaires. Some of us will get sick, divorced, file bankruptcy, change belief systems, watch good people die while others (whom are a bit less good/deserving) live long lives. Forces at random in the universe playing with us like the Gods of old in Greek mythology..
But just because it isn't fair (never was intended to be) doesn't mean its bad either. Its a luck of the draw for the most part. Its what you make of it given the cards you were dealt. Its how you play your hand. Its the reason we engage in relationships, faith systems. How we treat others. How we use our limited or unlimited resources.
Jesus knew life wasn't fair. Well not fair in the way WE like to think of it. Like an even playing field. Its simply not. The poor will always be with you, Jesus said. I guess transversely the rich will also. Jesus didn't say work harder so you can be rich too. No, he was pretty consistent about helping each other out when things were tough. Loving the unlovable of the day. Doing to others as you would like folks to do to you.
I know. Its tough. Would be easier to be level. My sense of social justice would be meet. (See book of Habukkuk -4 pages in Old Testament). But its not reality. Its a Fallacy. Life is what it is. Nothing more or less. The only variable in this ever changing equation is YOU. What are you doing with it. Resenting or Living? Sucking the life out of others or adding to their lives?
"Life isn't Fair" Really? ~npp
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Red Bricks of Righteousness
I grew up in a small town in East Texas that was typical of so many small towns in 1970s America. Segregated by unofficial boundary lines, the black folks lived in their section of town and the white folks lived in the other sections of town. Common ground was the small main street where the local businesses were established where people could go and buy there food at the local affiliated food store, fabric for sewing at the department store and whatever tools you needed at the hardware store.
The other common thing was that the two main churches in town, the United Methodist Church and the First Baptist Church, were deadset in the middle of the town. On the same block. Side by side. This, as they say, is the other segregation in small towns. Denominationalism. Though the black folks had their churches and the white folks had theirs, these two churches represented the mainstream of the town. Folks that Monday through Saturday were friends and neighbors and coworkers, found themselves filing into two different buildings on the same block of land each Sunday morning for worship, then filing back out at noon...eyeballing each other as if to say "what in the world are ya'll doing over there?".
And I was struck by the mere construction of these two building standing side by side. The Methodist Church had orange colored bricks and the Baptist Church had Red Bricks. Over the years as I drive through small towns I notice this pattern is duplicated. Red Bricks for Baptist Churches and Orange colored bricks for Methodist Churches.
Most of the town went to the Baptist Church. We did not. We attended the United Methodist Church. As a child I really didn't know what the difference was nor why some went next door while some went where I did. Or make that where my parents made me go. All I can really recall is that the long awaited vacation bible school week each summer seemed to divide us even further. While we sang songs about peace and love and made nifty little crafts out of penny's, peacock feathers and broken glass, the Baptists next door would have a snow cone machine and a clown and promises of salvation. Later in life I found out that my mother would try to work it out with that church to schedule our VBS on different weeks so that folks could attend both. But after she would tell them what week ours was planned, they would plan theirs the same week. Competition. They had the truth so they would put their money where their mouths were and it worked. Children would rather go where there is a snow cone machine and a clown instead of where there were peace songs about a loving God and craft projects. My youngest sister attended some function there as a child with her friend, and later we received a call that she had "gotten saved" and they wanted to know if she could start coming to sunday school. My parents were pissed.
Later, in my high school days, I dated a girl that attended the church next door. My first major crush. I was the president of our youth group (sometimes that group consisted of me, sometimes it had a few more) and I had a job at the local grocery store where I worked after school and weekends to pay for my car, which of course was a cool car with loud pipes and big tires in back with raised white letter tires and after market wheels. My hair was a little long and I always wore glasses that were tinted, so, uh, I would look cool. yes thats it. And I recall picking her up one day after church and going to lunch and there was a young man/adult standing beside her who gave me a disapproving look, said something to her, then walked away. She informed me that was her youth pastor who had asked her why she wanted to date a scumbag. I was floored. I had never up until that day been judged by someone who knew nothing about me except for what he perceived from a distance. And it left a bad taste in my mouth that lasts even today. And I started noticing the differences in those who attended the two churches. Words like judgemental, hypocritical and holier-than-thou now reside side by side with the term Baptist in my mind, forever etched. For you see I began paying attention to what they were doing Monday through Saturday then observing them on Sundays, and it didn't match up.
Many years has passed now since that occurred, but my opinion of those type folks has not. And its not all
Baptists (but they are in the lead according to my tally sheet). I know that people make mistakes in their own faith journey (lord knows I have - pun intended), and we can really do some stupid things as christians. We try to give advice that we think is Godly but in reality is actually hurtful. We say things like "well he is in a better place now", "God needed a little angel" or "I guess it was God's Will" after someone dies. We say things like "If you just had more faith", "Prayed harder" or "was a better person this wouldn't have happened to you". We try to save the cute little blonde girls in our youth group by telling them their date is a scumbag, though we do not know them. We caste stones from glass houses and point out specks in other's eyes.
Here's a bit of advice. Shut the hell up. yes. Seriously. If thats the best you have to offer then just keep it to yourself. But if you really want to help, just be there. You don't have to do anything. Say anything. Just love on folks. They are hurting enough as it is. St Francis said "preach the gospel at all times using words only if necessary". Bro. Lawrence wrote a book called "practicing the presence". Maybe model Jesus. Try those approaches. We have enough pharisees already.
The world looks a lot different outside the walls of those Red Bricks of Righteousness.
~npp
The other common thing was that the two main churches in town, the United Methodist Church and the First Baptist Church, were deadset in the middle of the town. On the same block. Side by side. This, as they say, is the other segregation in small towns. Denominationalism. Though the black folks had their churches and the white folks had theirs, these two churches represented the mainstream of the town. Folks that Monday through Saturday were friends and neighbors and coworkers, found themselves filing into two different buildings on the same block of land each Sunday morning for worship, then filing back out at noon...eyeballing each other as if to say "what in the world are ya'll doing over there?".
And I was struck by the mere construction of these two building standing side by side. The Methodist Church had orange colored bricks and the Baptist Church had Red Bricks. Over the years as I drive through small towns I notice this pattern is duplicated. Red Bricks for Baptist Churches and Orange colored bricks for Methodist Churches.
Most of the town went to the Baptist Church. We did not. We attended the United Methodist Church. As a child I really didn't know what the difference was nor why some went next door while some went where I did. Or make that where my parents made me go. All I can really recall is that the long awaited vacation bible school week each summer seemed to divide us even further. While we sang songs about peace and love and made nifty little crafts out of penny's, peacock feathers and broken glass, the Baptists next door would have a snow cone machine and a clown and promises of salvation. Later in life I found out that my mother would try to work it out with that church to schedule our VBS on different weeks so that folks could attend both. But after she would tell them what week ours was planned, they would plan theirs the same week. Competition. They had the truth so they would put their money where their mouths were and it worked. Children would rather go where there is a snow cone machine and a clown instead of where there were peace songs about a loving God and craft projects. My youngest sister attended some function there as a child with her friend, and later we received a call that she had "gotten saved" and they wanted to know if she could start coming to sunday school. My parents were pissed.
Later, in my high school days, I dated a girl that attended the church next door. My first major crush. I was the president of our youth group (sometimes that group consisted of me, sometimes it had a few more) and I had a job at the local grocery store where I worked after school and weekends to pay for my car, which of course was a cool car with loud pipes and big tires in back with raised white letter tires and after market wheels. My hair was a little long and I always wore glasses that were tinted, so, uh, I would look cool. yes thats it. And I recall picking her up one day after church and going to lunch and there was a young man/adult standing beside her who gave me a disapproving look, said something to her, then walked away. She informed me that was her youth pastor who had asked her why she wanted to date a scumbag. I was floored. I had never up until that day been judged by someone who knew nothing about me except for what he perceived from a distance. And it left a bad taste in my mouth that lasts even today. And I started noticing the differences in those who attended the two churches. Words like judgemental, hypocritical and holier-than-thou now reside side by side with the term Baptist in my mind, forever etched. For you see I began paying attention to what they were doing Monday through Saturday then observing them on Sundays, and it didn't match up.
Many years has passed now since that occurred, but my opinion of those type folks has not. And its not all
Baptists (but they are in the lead according to my tally sheet). I know that people make mistakes in their own faith journey (lord knows I have - pun intended), and we can really do some stupid things as christians. We try to give advice that we think is Godly but in reality is actually hurtful. We say things like "well he is in a better place now", "God needed a little angel" or "I guess it was God's Will" after someone dies. We say things like "If you just had more faith", "Prayed harder" or "was a better person this wouldn't have happened to you". We try to save the cute little blonde girls in our youth group by telling them their date is a scumbag, though we do not know them. We caste stones from glass houses and point out specks in other's eyes.
Here's a bit of advice. Shut the hell up. yes. Seriously. If thats the best you have to offer then just keep it to yourself. But if you really want to help, just be there. You don't have to do anything. Say anything. Just love on folks. They are hurting enough as it is. St Francis said "preach the gospel at all times using words only if necessary". Bro. Lawrence wrote a book called "practicing the presence". Maybe model Jesus. Try those approaches. We have enough pharisees already.
The world looks a lot different outside the walls of those Red Bricks of Righteousness.
~npp
Labels:
baptist,
east texas,
hypocrits,
judgemental,
methodist,
pharisee,
segregated
Monday, February 18, 2013
I'm never sure what to think about LENT
I always want to make a joke about Lent. You know like Lent in my dryer or something. I should probably be more reverent of such an important season of the church, but somehow I just don't FEEL LENTY! I'm not really sure why that is.
Each year I know its coming. It follows the Christmas stuff and takes us to the Easter Tide season. Forty days (not counting Sundays of course because they are already holy enough I guess) of something leading up to Easter. Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, etc.
And each year I hear people say they are going to "give up" this or that. You know like cheeseburgers, cold beer ( I have no idea why anyone would give up this ), sodas, golf, or something important like that. I usually joke that I am going to give up cigarettes for Lent. I don't smoke cigarettes. Not much of a sacrifice huh?
So what is the big deal anyway of giving something up? I think as a child or younger adult I tried on occasion to give up something, only to fail miserably. Sort of like New Year's resolutions - doomed to failure. So does this make me a bad christian? I can't even give something up for forty days for Jesus? I guess it does in some respect. But somehow I think it has something a little deeper in meaning that we aren't grasping by giving up something so irrelevant to our spiritual well-being as a soda.
Matthew 4:1-11 tells of Jesus' time fasting and praying in the wilderness for a period described as 40 days. Yes, the same time period as Lent. Whether it was a physical 40 days or just a biblical way of saying a long time (40 days is used a lot in the bible), it tells of Jesus denying himself food, focusing on God, and not giving in to the temptations presented to him. This is a little larger than a soda huh?
I think that if one was really wanting to give up something for Lent, it should be something meaningful. Something really sacrificial beyond self. For me, that would be time. What would happen if I gave up, say, my Friday mornings to go work on a horse ranch to help disabled/autistic kiddos? My best friend Rick Diamond does this every week. What if I gave up my Thursday evenings to go help at a crisis center? What if I gave up Saturday mornings to help at Habitat for Humanity? What if I gave up something that is meaningful or selfish to me (time) and gave that to someone else?
Lent. My forty days to consider the ways of Christ. The temptations to give into, the things to overcome. My selfishness. I still have a ways to go I believe. ~NPP
Each year I know its coming. It follows the Christmas stuff and takes us to the Easter Tide season. Forty days (not counting Sundays of course because they are already holy enough I guess) of something leading up to Easter. Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, etc.
And each year I hear people say they are going to "give up" this or that. You know like cheeseburgers, cold beer ( I have no idea why anyone would give up this ), sodas, golf, or something important like that. I usually joke that I am going to give up cigarettes for Lent. I don't smoke cigarettes. Not much of a sacrifice huh?
So what is the big deal anyway of giving something up? I think as a child or younger adult I tried on occasion to give up something, only to fail miserably. Sort of like New Year's resolutions - doomed to failure. So does this make me a bad christian? I can't even give something up for forty days for Jesus? I guess it does in some respect. But somehow I think it has something a little deeper in meaning that we aren't grasping by giving up something so irrelevant to our spiritual well-being as a soda.
Matthew 4:1-11 tells of Jesus' time fasting and praying in the wilderness for a period described as 40 days. Yes, the same time period as Lent. Whether it was a physical 40 days or just a biblical way of saying a long time (40 days is used a lot in the bible), it tells of Jesus denying himself food, focusing on God, and not giving in to the temptations presented to him. This is a little larger than a soda huh?
I think that if one was really wanting to give up something for Lent, it should be something meaningful. Something really sacrificial beyond self. For me, that would be time. What would happen if I gave up, say, my Friday mornings to go work on a horse ranch to help disabled/autistic kiddos? My best friend Rick Diamond does this every week. What if I gave up my Thursday evenings to go help at a crisis center? What if I gave up Saturday mornings to help at Habitat for Humanity? What if I gave up something that is meaningful or selfish to me (time) and gave that to someone else?
Lent. My forty days to consider the ways of Christ. The temptations to give into, the things to overcome. My selfishness. I still have a ways to go I believe. ~NPP
Labels:
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Fat Tuesday,
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Matthew 4:1-11,
Rick Diamond,
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temptation
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
pieces of my past
I am becoming a dinosaur. A relic of a time past that, in my mind, reflects a simpler time. A time where life seemed to be more well-defined, boundaries were understood, and expectations somewhat clearer.
A throw back to the days of Blue Laws (where certain things/stores/places could not be open on Sunday, aka: The Sabbath) which compelled one to stay home with family or go to grandma's place after church for the usual fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and whatever else was put on the table.
A slower time. A state of innocence.
Enter the new world. The Next Generation for you Trekkies. A time of 24/7 busyness. An internet world where literally everything is at your disposal at all times. Where relationships consists of electronic transmissions via text, social media, or email. Whens the last time you bought a stamp? yep. thought so.
Shopping for christmas gifts this year, it struck me just how much we rely on gadgets for our lives. Smart phones, Tablets, Ipods, electronic Furby's (as if the old ones were not bizarre enough), flat screen tvs. The list could go on and on. My favorite tv shows now are Toy Hunter, Pawn Stars, American Pickers. There is a recurring theme here: these shows are about items, and these items are usually something from the past. A bygone era. And since I am also, it resonates with me. And I believe it resonates with lots of folks who remember. I believe this is part of the success and popularity of these shows. People can indentify with a simpler time. Something from their past.
So, to help keep me in touch with my past, I bought a Stetson Felt Cowboy Hat this week. Not just any ol' Cowboy hat, but a full blown genuine authentic Stetson Cowboy hat that makes anyone, not just cowboys, take notice. Its a 5X Beaver Silverbelly and its a thing of beauty. Its the kind the "good guys" wore in the old westerns (pre Tombstone and Wyatt Earp movies). And it says "Made in USA" inside on the hatband. Growing up, all the old men and cowboys wore these. The Marshal and Sheriff wore them.
The Texas Rangers law enforcement group, not baseball team, still wear them today. When I was a youngster the town marshal would give me his old hat when he bought a new one and I would wear it with pride. I still have his shotgun that he left to my dad when he died and my dad passed it to me.
And I don't really know why I bought it. Heck, I didn't have one so there's that. And I look pretty silly in a hat really. But something drew me to that hat. A connection with a time past. My grandfather always wore a Stetson hat, and over the years it showed the wear from the sweat stains around the base of the crown, and yellowing at the front of the brim by the constant swirl of cigarette smoke that came from whatever cig he had in his mouth during the day. A remeberance from my youth. Something tangible from a bygone era. And I got one. And I plan on wearing it.
I don't care what others will think of it when I wear it. Its not really about them. Its about me. A statement to a fast paced, latest fad, electronic consumerist gadget society that I can still be me, tied to the past, here in the present.
Of course the irony is I bought the hat on Ebay using a computer and pay pal account. but still. ~npp
A throw back to the days of Blue Laws (where certain things/stores/places could not be open on Sunday, aka: The Sabbath) which compelled one to stay home with family or go to grandma's place after church for the usual fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and whatever else was put on the table.
A slower time. A state of innocence.
Enter the new world. The Next Generation for you Trekkies. A time of 24/7 busyness. An internet world where literally everything is at your disposal at all times. Where relationships consists of electronic transmissions via text, social media, or email. Whens the last time you bought a stamp? yep. thought so.
Shopping for christmas gifts this year, it struck me just how much we rely on gadgets for our lives. Smart phones, Tablets, Ipods, electronic Furby's (as if the old ones were not bizarre enough), flat screen tvs. The list could go on and on. My favorite tv shows now are Toy Hunter, Pawn Stars, American Pickers. There is a recurring theme here: these shows are about items, and these items are usually something from the past. A bygone era. And since I am also, it resonates with me. And I believe it resonates with lots of folks who remember. I believe this is part of the success and popularity of these shows. People can indentify with a simpler time. Something from their past.
So, to help keep me in touch with my past, I bought a Stetson Felt Cowboy Hat this week. Not just any ol' Cowboy hat, but a full blown genuine authentic Stetson Cowboy hat that makes anyone, not just cowboys, take notice. Its a 5X Beaver Silverbelly and its a thing of beauty. Its the kind the "good guys" wore in the old westerns (pre Tombstone and Wyatt Earp movies). And it says "Made in USA" inside on the hatband. Growing up, all the old men and cowboys wore these. The Marshal and Sheriff wore them.
The Texas Rangers law enforcement group, not baseball team, still wear them today. When I was a youngster the town marshal would give me his old hat when he bought a new one and I would wear it with pride. I still have his shotgun that he left to my dad when he died and my dad passed it to me.
And I don't really know why I bought it. Heck, I didn't have one so there's that. And I look pretty silly in a hat really. But something drew me to that hat. A connection with a time past. My grandfather always wore a Stetson hat, and over the years it showed the wear from the sweat stains around the base of the crown, and yellowing at the front of the brim by the constant swirl of cigarette smoke that came from whatever cig he had in his mouth during the day. A remeberance from my youth. Something tangible from a bygone era. And I got one. And I plan on wearing it.
I don't care what others will think of it when I wear it. Its not really about them. Its about me. A statement to a fast paced, latest fad, electronic consumerist gadget society that I can still be me, tied to the past, here in the present.
Of course the irony is I bought the hat on Ebay using a computer and pay pal account. but still. ~npp
Labels:
Blue Laws,
Consumerism,
Cowboy Hat,
electronics,
Stetson,
Texas Rangers
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
A Public Service Announcement from NPP - please read
What I type here just may save your quality of life or that of someone you know and love. I could not in good conscious keep this to myself if i can help someone else.
I was poisoned three months ago. Yes. Poisoned. Poisoned by a medication I had never taken before and come to find out leaves 100s of people (and counting) in pain, disabled, and numerous other descriptors (including suicide).
The drug was Ciproflaxicin. Known as Cipro. A synthetic antibiotic. It is in a class of drugs known as FLOUROQUINOLONES and includes several different names including Levaquin and almost anything ending in flaxicin. You can see a little list and some info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adverse_effects_of_fluoroquinolones
I had went to the doctor for a small pain and it was suspected I had an infection (similar to a urinary tract infection) and was prescribed CIPRO. I had no knowledge of this medication except that it was an antibiotic and was supposed to help me. Five days into this medication I began having pain in my hips and groin area. Ceased medication and given another antibiotic. But the damaged had been done.
The medication attacked my lymph nodes in the groin, prostrate gland, hip and pelvic joints which makes it painful to walk, tendons and ligaments from the waste down. I was unable to walk for almost 2 weeks and in severe pain for three weeks then moderate to severe pain for another month. Tons of research latter (not to mention medical visits, changing doctors, MRIs, CTscans, Xrays, Ultrasounds, Blood Work, Urinalysis, Meds for prostate now that I never had issues with before) I have found that this drug is very dangerous and was developed initially as s SUPER DRUG to fight those things that normal antibiotics will not work on and are supposed to be used as a last line of defense drug. Drs. now consider it a first line catch-all drug that will take care of anything and it does, including healthy cells and tissues. It was widely used in the ANTHRAX scares about 2o years ago with devastating effects on those prescribed to.
It has ruined several young people's lives who were previously totally healthy. Teh Public Broadcasting System (PBS) did a documentary on this in 2011 which I will attach here. Please watch it. Please do not take this class of medication IF there is any other antibiotic that will work on your issue. The risks are too high and too devastating.
I am just over three months into this and fortunately am not in as much pain anymore, have regained a lot of my mobility (although it is limitied in how far I can walk and how long I can stand) and it is still effecting my nervous system as I have shooting pains down my legs and buttucks (nerve endings) which makes it difficult to set for periods of time either.
I have missed family reunions, a funeral of an uncle that i was asked to be a Pall Bearer, have not been able to teach my class at church in over three months, missed church altogether for 2 months, and cannot do easy things I used to : like mow the lawn and work on stuff. But I am getting better. Slowly. Day to Day. Which is better than hundreds of others I have networked with on blog sites like www.survivingcipro.com and quinolone vigilance foundation. I am hoping to make a full recovery so I can have my life back the level it was at. I am grateful to God that I am not fully disabled as I feared I would be.
Please watch this clip. I would hate to think that any of you would end up like this if I had the opportunity to let you know ahead of time the potential it has for destroying your life. I wish I had known. My family will never be taking this ever.
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/health/jan-june11/antibiotics_06-16.html
The Shack - Revisited!
A new book by C Baxter Kruger, PH.D. is an indepth review/commentary/theological discussion on the popular book THE SHACK published a few years ago by William Paul Young that spurred discussion on many fronts - mostly in favor of and a few who attacked him for heresy. When I see something labeled heresy, I read it.
THE SHACK REVISITED needs to be read AFTER reading The Shack, hence the word Revisited. A lot of discussion goes into the thoughts and struggles of Paul Young who had a tumultous early life and had come to know God (Papa), Jesus, and Saraya (The Holy Spirit) in more relational terms outside the boundaries of conformed doctrine. (hence the attackes of heresy as God is portrayed as a middle aged african american woman) and other issues. Kruger examines these characters closely in light of the struggles of all of us, including the main character Mackenzie (loosely a reflection of Paul Young) and goes into depth on the trinitarian nature of God, Jesus and Holy Spirit and where these three meet us in our lives.
Its not a lectionary book. Its not supportive of doctrine. It is reflective. Thoughtful. Insightful. Which is why I guess Paul Young and Kruger have become friends and have toured together all over the place (US, Europe, etc) talking about these two books and sharing their stories and insights.
Reading THE SHACK REVISITED makes me want to reread THE SHACK again in a different light, now that I know more of the motivation behind why Paul Young wrote the story and his life journey.
If you are a fan of THE SHACK, you will want to read this.
~npp
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
a new book Hometown Prophet
Being the Original NonProfitProphet, a book titled Hometown Prophet was sure to get my attention. Its by Jeff Fulmer of Tennessee and is a work of fiction centered around the central character "Peter" who is kind of drifting in life, has had some letdowns, and has returned home to live with his mother and is beating himself up about his seemingly "Loser" life.
Not wanting to give the book away, he begans to have a series of "visions" or "dreams" that come true, but sometimes being a prophet (don't I know it) is tough work. *See Bible for how they were mostly treated, stoned, fed to lions, etc. Being a prophet involves being a truth teller, even if the truth isn't what people really want to hear. Though this book centers more on prophetic dreams that come true, a lot of the job of a prophet is to see through the politics, the haze, the B.S. as we call it here in the States, and call it like it is.
And this character plays the part of the relunctant prophet because it is tough, and who really wants to be that guy?
There is good character development, it is relevant to hot topics of the day concerning immigration, environment, pastorial egos and church politics, differing styles of religion, a love angle, and is written well enough where it keeps you engaged in the story for the entire 300plus pages. My wife even read this book and she typically does not read my books.
It needed a little editorial work as there were several places where the wrong words were left in or double typed that was a bit distracting, but overall I would recommend this book as a good read, not terribly taxing on the brain, but gives a good story. It is a fairly believable story that could just possibly happen in the present day - even though modern day prophets (like myself) are seeminly rare.
If you read it, let me know your thoughts. ~npp
Labels:
Book review,
Hometown Prophet,
Jeff Fulmer,
Prophets,
Tennessee
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