Diana

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 4

December 5, 2012 By Diana

“This is a vision that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem:

In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house

will be the highest of all —

the most important place on earth.

It will be raised above the other hills,

and people from all over the world will stream there to worship.

People from many nations will come and say,

‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,

to the house of Jacob’s God.

There he will teach us his ways,

and we will walk in his paths.’

For the LORD’s teaching will go out from Zion;

his word will go out from Jerusalem.

The LORD will mediate between nations

and will settle international disputes.

They will hammer their swords into plowshares

and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will no longer fight against nation,

nor train for war anymore.”

Isaiah 2:1-4, NLT

Sometimes I think it would be truly grand to have a vision. To see something spectacular and hopeful and encouraging, to see it in living color, larger than life and rich with meaning.

This vision of Isaiah’s is a corker, isn’t it? Overflowing with such magnificent images! People moving like living water to God’s holy mountain, God himself settling any disputes. And this one – no more training for war. Turning weapons into farm implements — in essence — turning away from darkness and into the full light of God’s glorious presence.

YES! I’d love to have a vision like that.

And then, I realize.

I DO have a vision like that. . . this very one, right here in front of us on this blustery Advent Wednesday. I don’t believe Isaiah wrote this one down just for the heck of it — no, I don’t. I believe Isaiah, or someone writing under his grand name, wrote this down at the insistence of the Holy Spirit, precisely so that we could read it today.

Because this is a vision that every generation needs to see, this is a picture that all peoples need to have hanging on the walls of their hearts. This is a painting dripping with the colors of life and hope and expectation. And this is a vision perfectly designed for Advent, these 24 days of paying attention, of stilling ourselves so that we can see more clearly, of expecting God to show up in ways that surprise us and slow us and save us.

This is a vision of God’s desired future and this is a promise of wondrous things to come. Wondrous things that can begin now, inside of us, and spreading through us, to larger and larger circles of others who have eyes to see what God is up to in this world. “In the last days…” Every one of us lives in the last days. Every generation since Jesus walked the earth has lived in the last days. Every generation since Jesus has been slowly, slowly, slowly heading, like rivers of water, to God’s holy mountain.

And one day soon, we’re going to get there. Glory be!

We’re looking for you, Lord. We’re looking for you on that high mountain. We want to be a twig in that river that will stream upwards toward you! So now, while we wait, while we watch – will you teach us your ways and show us how to walk in your paths? We want to be ready. We want to be ready!

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, daily devo, Encouragement, hope

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 3

December 4, 2012 By Diana

“Praise the LORD!

Let all that I am praise the LORD.

I will praise the LORD as long as I live.

I will sing praises to my God with my dying breath.

Don’t put your confidence in powerful people;

there is no help for you there.

When they breathe their last, they return to the earth,

and all their plans die with them.

But joyful are those who have the God of Israel as their helper,

whose hope is in the LORD their God.

He made heaven and earth,

the sea, and everything in them.

He keeps every promise forever.

He gives justice to the oppressed

and food to the hungry.

The LORD frees the prisoners.

The LORD opens the eyes of the blind.

The LORD lifts up those who are weighed down.

The LORD loves the godly.

The LORD protects the foreigners among us.

He cares for the orphans and widows,

but he frustrates the plans of the wicked.

The LORD will reign forever.

He will be your God, Jerusalem, throughout the generations.

Praise the LORD!

— Psalm 146, NLT

Whenever I read a psalm like this, I have the sense that I’m eavesdropping on the whole of creation. The green hills, the weathered trees, the surging sea — they all know this song and they sing it so beautifully.

Yet my song is needed in this chorus, too. And so is yours.

Look at the list in these verses. All those lines that begin with, “The LORD. . .” Does that list seem vaguely familiar? To me, it is an overtone, in harmony with the Isaiah scroll from which Jesus read as he began his walking-around ministry, the words that he says are fulfilled in the hearing of the synagogue.

The Lord God made the heavens and the earth and the sea and everything in them — and the psalmist recognizes that. But over and above and around and through all of that wondrous creative genius, there is the shining thread of humanity, people.

Like me, like you, like Jesus.

Those who are oppressed and suffering, those who are orphans and widows, those who are victims of injustice, those with broken hearts, those who are starving and those who are blind.

And that means each and every one of us.

Even we who are overfed and well-used to justice — even we need a God who keeps promises, a God who lifts us up when we are weighed down.

Here’s the interesting part, though. WE are the ones through whom those promises are kept and those heavy-hearted ones are lifted. Smack dab in the middle of God’s plan for creation, God’s plan for salvation, God’s plan for reconciliation – we are planted. Because the God Who Is Spirit needs legs and arms and mouths and eyes and ears and tongues in order to make all things new.

Jesus came to show us how it’s done. And now, it’s our turn. Are you ready? Are you willing to be a piece of the Puzzle?

I’ll admit, Lord, that I love the creation parts to this song. I’ll sit and look at the ocean and praise your name any day of the week. But these people you made? Well, some of them are a whole lot tougher to sing songs about. So, will you help me to BE the harmony line you’ve designed me to be? Help me to let you sing through me to those with whom I interact and to spread my song far and wide through prayer and gifts and encouragement? Thank you ahead of time. Oh — I’m going to need a lot of reminders about this part, okay? Thanks, again.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement

An Advent Journal: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 2

December 3, 2012 By Diana

“I, Paul, together here with Silas and Timothy, send greetings to the church at Thessalonica, Christians assembled by God the Father and by the Master, Jesus Christ. God’s amazing grace be with you! God’s robust peace!

Every time we think of you, we thank God for you. Day and night you’re in our prayers as we call to mind your work of faith, your labor of love, and your patience of hope in following our Master, Jesus Christ, before God our Father. It is clear to us, friends, that God not only loves you very much, but also has put his hand on you for something special. When the Message we preached came to you, it wasn’t just words. Something happened in you. The Holy Spirit put steel in your convictions.

You paid careful attention to the way we lived among you, and determined to live that way yourselves. In imitating us, you imitated the Master. Although great trouble accompanied the Word, you were able to take great joy from the Holy Spirit — taking the trouble with the joy, the joy with the trouble.

Do you know that all over the provinces of both Macedonia and Achaia believers look up to you? The word has gotten around. Your lives are echoing the Master’s Word, not only in the provinces, but all over the place. The news of your faith in God is out. We don’t even have to say anything anymore — you’re the message! People come up and tell us how you received us with open arms, how you deserted the dead idols of your old life so you could embrace and serve God. They marvel at how expectantly you await the arrival of his Son, whom he raised from the dead — Jesus, who rescued us from certain doom. — 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10, The Message

There are times in life when the sight of one beautiful red leaf in the middle of a rain-soaked sidewalk is enough to carry you through all kinds of puddles ahead. The day may be grim, the majority of the leaves dried up and rattling in the wind, but there it is. That one thing of beauty, the one that makes you gasp and say, “Thank you!” The one that makes you remember the joy.

It’s not that the puddles disappear or that the brown leaves are suddenly green again. No. The ugliness remains. But somehow, all that is dead and dying is more bearable, a kind of balance has been struck. I cannot explain it, I only know it when it happens. “Taking the trouble with the joy, the joy with the trouble.”

And into the middle of gray days and bone-chilling winds and too-early darkness comes. . . Advent. A small candle flickering against the gloom, a beacon of hope and promise. A time to wait, yes. But a time to wait with hope.

Where is your red leaf today? Where do you find hope?

Adjust our vision, Lord. Help us to see the trembling flame, the single shining beacon that will lead us to the center of the fulcrum. Help us to find that balance between trouble and joy. And then embolden us to help others find it, too. It doesn’t take much, does it? Just something the size of a red leaf.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, ministry, Spiritual Formation

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day One, First Sunday

December 2, 2012 By Diana

“O LORD, I give my life to you.

I trust in you, my God!

Do not let me be disgraced,

or let my enemies rejoice in my defeat.

No one who trusts in you will ever be disgraced,

but disgrace comes to those who try to deceive others.

Show me the right path, O LORD;

point out the road for me to follow.

Lead me by your truth and teach me,

for you are the God who saves me.

All day long I put my hope in you.

Remember, O LORD, your compassion and unfailing love,

which you have shown from long ages past.

Do not remember the rebellious sins of my youth.

Remember me in the light of your unfailing love,

for you are merciful, O LORD.

The LORD is good and does what is right;

he shows the proper path to those who go astray.

He leads the humble in doing right,

teaching them his way.

The LORD leads with unfailing love and faithfulness

all who keep his covenant and obey his commands.”

Psalm 25:1-10, NLT

Somewhere on the internet this past week, I saw a little tidbit about Frederick Buechner’s ‘last’ book, one that he, one of the most popular Christian authors of the last 30 years, had a hard time getting published. To say I was stunned would be a very large understatement. So I promptly looked up the book (The Yellow Leaves: A Miscellany) and ordered a copy for myself. It was eventually published — now fours years ago (!) — and consists of remembrances, short essays, assorted bits and pieces from his long, literary life. I am loving it as I chew on a morsel or two each evening.

Here is a brief paragraph that grabbed me by the neck this past week and shook me pretty hard. It is part of a chapter entitled, “Bulletin Board,” in which Buechner describes a variety of photographs scattered around his office, telling a brief story about each person pictured:

“Frank Tracy Griswold, presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, is smiling benignly in his dog collar and steel-rimmed glasses, that strikingly intelligent, articulate, sweet-tempered man. He told me that once when he was taking a shower, he distinctly heard a voice from somewhere saying, ‘Why do you take your sins so much more seriously than I do?’ His first reaction was to burst into laughter. His second was to burst into tears.”

All my life, I’ve been taught that my sins, and the sins of everyone else in this wide, wonderful world, are the reason that Jesus came in the flesh. The love of God was in there somewhere, but my own sin sort of took center stage in the teaching of my youth. So reading a small, explosive paragraph like this one sometimes stops me in my tracks.

Then I read through the psalm for today, the first day of Advent – the first Sunday of Advent. And I remembered: the Psalmist, singing centuries before that Baby was born in the stable, the Psalmist sings about ‘unfailing love,’ about mercy, about God’s gentle guidance in the way that is right and true. This song is about God pointing the way, pointing the right way.

And I began to remember, to see, to celebrate that Jesus came to show us how: how to live in this world, how to die to this world, how to live forever. And showing us the way includes pointing out the sin that cripples and wounds us. It includes the shedding of precious blood and the rending of tender flesh that we might be healed. It includes learning to live in the center of God’s goodness and grace and ‘unfailing love.’

Contrition is right and good and necessary. Repentance is right and good and necessary. But focusing exclusively on how terrible we are ultimately turns the whole wonderful story completely on its head. Love comes first. Forgiveness comes first. Desire for relationship and healing and wholeness – these are far more serious than our sin. And that is cause for wonder, cause even for joyous laughter.

And that is also, of course, cause for tears. Tears of gratitude, humility, and tender homage. Because that precious Baby came — and that Glorious Savior will come — for love’s sake alone. Imagine that!

Point us in the right direction, Jesus. As we step into Advent this year, remind us where we fall short, yes, we need those reminders. But O LORD, whisper to us of love, sing to us of forgiveness, beckon us toward holy righteousness. Because YOU are righteous and because of Jesus, so are we. Thank you!

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, God's gifts, Spiritual Formation

Small things… 2009 – Archive-Diving

December 2, 2012 By Diana

In this long process of moving my blog (sometime early in the new year, most likely), I am digging into the archives and re-editing some draft posts that were never published. This one was written over three years ago, right after I sent an email, intended for just one person, and accidentally sent it to hundreds. Yes. I did that. And it felt pretty horrible. Thankfully, God is gracious and so are God’s people and we all survived. I do not, however, recommend carelessness with email, or any other kind of correspondence. :>) Maybe someone out there can empathize with these sentiments:

It’s a funny thing about horizons. Depending on distance, objects can appear to be much smaller than they actually are.

30 foot fishing boats can appear to be no larger than a gnat when viewed from the shore. Sometimes life events are like that.

Things that seem like tiny errors can explode into potentially life-altering happenings in the blink of an eye.

Why is that? Perhaps because we live as fallen, broken people in a fallen, broken world. We are not perfect. We make mistakes, all the time.

We speak too quickly – and someone’s feelings are hurt.

Our eyes miss a date on the calendar and we fail to keep an appointment that is crucial.

We get in a hurry and cut off a conversation too soon, just as important revelations are to be made.

We fill our brains with so much information that the truly important stuff gets crowded out by what has been termed the ‘tyranny of the urgent.’

We don’t take the extra 2 minutes to move from reaction to response when we’re surprised or startled by something new, and we blurt things that should be stopped at the lips and eventually removed from the brain.

Lord, have mercy. We are your broken people, wanting to live in step with your sweet Spirit, but far too often missing the mark. Thank you for grace. Thank you for forgiveness. Thank you for the chance to start anew.

And save us from ourselves, please. We are far too often our own very worst enemies.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Confession, Spiritual Formation

Something Sweet for December…

December 1, 2012 By Diana

It’s that time of the month again – and I’m not talking hormones. It’s time to send sweet greetings to friends and family courtesy of TSP’s very fun adventure called, “Word Candy.” Chose a quote from a long list of categories, match it with a wonderful array of photos and post it on your blog, send it by email, tweet it or put it on your Facebook wall. Find your own fun by clicking on this line right here.

Tomorrow is the first official day of Advent and I’ll begin a series of daily devotionals in this space – much like I did during Lent earlier this year. A photo or two, a scripture passage for the day, a few reflections or a favorite quotation, and a short prayer. Gifts for the season, for you. And for me, too. May your waiting be rich and good this year.

This will serve as my Quiet for the Weekend post this week – joining with Sandy and with Deidra in being quiet and reflective today.

Filed Under: Advent, Word Candy

Spirit-Led Parenting – A Guest Post

November 28, 2012 By Diana

One of the great joys of blogging the last two years has been the discovery of a rich community life out here in cyberspace. Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer are two of the many women it has been my privilege to come to ‘know,’ courtesy of the internet. I read a review of their parenting book early this year and was really impressed. So, I ordered four copies! There were four expectant couples in our church community at that time and I could think of no better gift than an ‘instruction’ book that basically said – listen to your baby and to your own heart and toss out all the ‘shoulds.’ They’re entering round two of the required (and important) PR work for their fine book and I am delighted and honored to host this essay from Laura as they make the rounds of about a dozen blogs in the next few days. I encourage you to interact with Laura here, to think about the questions she asks, and to reflect on your own parenting experiences (if you have children) or about parenting you’ve observed (if you don’t have kids). Just opening the door and saying, “Hey, I’m not sure about this…what have YOU tried?” can be a tremendously freeing experience. So, go for it!

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 2 Corinthians 3:17

I’ll begin with an honest admission: I like rules. I share in the opening chapter of our book that my nightmare assignments in school days were those with an open structure. Options? No, thank you. I prefer guidelines and no-fail directions toward certain success.

I expected the rules I’d heard for parenting a new baby to lead to that neat-and-tidy success found by so many. Instead, they didn’t work for me or my baby, and I lived for a time in terror over the implications of what that failure would mean.

As Megan shared yesterday at O My Family, one of the bonds that deepened our friendship and led us to write this book was that we both entered parenthood bound as slaves to fear. Our purpose in sharing our tear-stained stories is to encourage others navigating life with an infant, inviting them to the pursuit of another way.

There is an approach to parenting that looks fear in the face and boldly speaks an answer: Freedom. Freedom from required formulas, unrealistic expectations of our children and ourselves, and the belief that we must force our babies to fit into a mold that may not have been designed for them.

– Spirit-Led Parenting, page 42

When we live in fear, we resist the freedom that serves as a banner proclaiming the presence of the Spirit. Yet Megan and I each found that in spite of our resistance, God beckoned us through the heartache of frustration and failure and offered us an approach to caring for our babies that we desperately wish we had known from the very beginning. He was calling us into freedom.

Freedom to follow His lead first and foremost in our parenting.

Freedom to trust in the example of God’s Father heart, Christ’s call to servanthood, and the Spirit’s constant presence as we care for our babies.

Freedom to extend grace to those who parent differently, knowing that our Lord leads us individually, according to His flawless will and timing, to answers perfectly suited to our families.

Freedom to fail – understanding that perfect parenthood is unattainable, believing that God’s redemptive grace covers our missteps, and seeing our insufficiency as opportunity for our surrender and His refinement.

It was a rocky road, learning to live out what He offered. But as we began to let go, we gained something unexpected: a deepening perspective on the glorious, mysterious paradox of dying to self and gaining abundant life. As two control-loving, perfection-seeking new mothers each woke from a fear-driven haze, we discovered that the cost of our new freedom in parenthood was not at all what we’d expected.

Where once we believed we would find spoiled children and splintered marriages in the wake of our decisions to turn from the loud-and-popular advice, we found instead our own expectations and desires bowed low. Where we once held fast to the notion that the “right” methods of baby-care would bring success, we learned that releasing our expectations gave us the freedom to truly follow the Spirit’s lead in every area of our lives.

It’s an approach that welcomes an often messy journey. One that comes with sacrifice, as is always the case when we pursue a life of serving God and others. It may mean less predictability and more time. It may bring the uncomfortable realization that you are parenting off the beaten path, if that path where He has led some is not where He is leading you. It may mean laying down that precious sense of control.

But what if as that first year of babyhood winds down and a toddler stands where your baby once lay, what if you looked in the mirror and realized that the one who has grown by leaps and bounds in the past year is you? What if you could see that in most every situation you encounter, your first response is no longer selfish retreat, but rather selfless embrace?

Would it make you smile with humble gratitude to recognize that in each moment you chose to approach your baby with a heart filled by the Spirit, you were able to more closely relate to and identify with your Lord Jesus Christ than you ever had before? If you found, for perhaps the first time, that you were truly free in Him?

– Spirit-Led Parenting, page 54

Living and parenting in freedom is a daily – and often difficult – choice. We have heard from countless new parents through the years at different points in the journey, and believe that safe and honest discussions can encourage one another along the way. Will you share your thoughts here today?

What aspects of parenting in freedom appeal most to you, and which do/did you find most uncomfortable or hardest to embrace? How has God used your role as a parent for your own spiritual growth, or how do you suspect He may want to do so?

We are deeply honored to share in this space today, and look forward to hearing from you! Find us tomorrow with a post at Narrow Paths to Higher Places

Spirit-Led Parenting is the first release from authors Megan Tietz and Laura Oyer. Megan writes about faith, family and natural living at SortaCrunchy and lives in Oklahoma City with her husband and two daughters. Laura blogs her reflections on the real and ridiculous things of life at In The Backyard, and makes her home in Indiana with her husband, daughter, and son.

Filed Under: Blogging, Book Review, community, Encouragement, Guest Post, parenting

A Season for the King

November 27, 2012 By Diana

We were late to church yesterday morning.

Lots of travel last week,

all of it good, fun, comforting, interesting.

But . . .

we were tired

and moving very s-l-o-w-l-y.

The sanctuary was full as we snuck in the back door,

so we sat in the balcony,

which provides an unusual view.

The large chandeliers that took on the look of a double crown in the photograph.

It wasn’t until I looked at the photo

that I saw that our view was remarkably apt

for this particular Sunday in the church calendar:

Christ the King Sunday,

the last one in the liturgical year.

Next Sunday is the first Sunday in Advent,

the turning of a new calendar page.

But yesterday. . .

yesterday was a celebration of the Cosmic Christ,

the One who sits at the right hand of the Father,

the One who will come again in glory,

the One who intercedes for us,

who reigns on our behalf,

and the One for whom the stars sing.

In the northern hemisphere,

this Sunday comes in the midst of Autumn,

the time of dying,

dying in full, vibrant color.

It feels fitting to celebrate Christ as King

in this season of the year,

perhaps because it also feels a little bit upside-down.

Wouldn’t the bright pinks and purples of spring or summer

be better suited to this kind of recognition?

Christ is surely King in any season of our years,

but somehow the Fall feels ‘right’ to me,

a good season to make special note of this truth.

After all, Jesus did not become the kind of king

that people were anticipating.

He shattered every preconception, every expectation,

every dream that was built on the power structures of our world.

In ways that are deep and profound,

Jesus of Nazareth did not become

Christ the King until

after

the cross,

the empty tomb,

the ascension into the heavenly realms.

Is there any more backwards way to become

a person of royalty than his way?

The way of death,

and resurrection,

and ascension?

So as the days get shorter,

and the hours of darkness grow;

as the leaves turn brilliant in their farewell address,

as the flowers dry on the stem

and the shadows lengthen on the lawn,

this is the time,

the perfect time,

to remember and to honor our King.

The One who was with God and who became a human person,

taking that long and winding downward journey,

living a more fully human life than any other ever has.

He died an ignominious death,

and by that death and the resurrection

which followed it,

brought us the gift of Full Life

in fellowship with the Triune God.

Only then, did he return to his rightful place

on the throne.

So YES, this season seems about right.

The season of dying in full, vibrant color.

On this Sunday, we celebrate that the King is for us.

We remember the greatness of our God,

we acknowledge the Glory of a Savior

who is much grander, fuller, more all-compassing

than any Being we can imagine or dream.

Lord of the Harvest?

Surely so.

Grand Creator of the universe in all its richness and variety?

Yes and amen.

The One who is above all, around all,

through all and in all?

Yes, yes, yes and YES.

So we sing, “Holy, Holy, Holy,” and

“Crown Him with Many Crowns,” and

“Creation Song,” and “Revelation Song,” and

any other hymn of praise that rises to our lips

as we recognize the Bigness of our God.

Next week, we celebrate the Littleness.

Isn’t that amazing?

Joining this with Laura Boggess and Jen Ferguson and the Sisterhood, with Cheryl Hyatt Smith and Ann Voskamp this week.

Doesn’t quite fit any of their themes exactly, but. . . this is what I’ve got.

Filed Under: biblical reflection, church year, God's gifts, hope, Photo Essay, Sunday Reflections

Breathing in the Beauty – 2008 – Archive-Diving

November 24, 2012 By Diana

This post was originally written about four years ago and was probably the first time

I wrote about the restorative qualities of time spent at Butterfly Beach.

I kept personal posts off of the blog until the beginning of 2011 and am now

editing a few of them as I prepare to transfer my blog to a new site.

You’ll note that we were both still working at this point in time.

You’ll also notice that I write about some of the very same themes today.

Last week, the weather turned warm and balmy. Dick had been in southern CA working from Tues-Thurs and it was Friday, with an afternoon off for both of us. I came back from errand running and said, “Let’s drive down to the beach!”

We each picked up a book to read, drove the two miles straight down the hill and parked on the slope of Channel Drive, just above this old cypress tree. With both front windows down, the moon-roof open and the seats leaning about as far back as we could get them, we slowly sank into the beauty of this place in which we are blessed to live.

Winter is the best time of the year at the beach in Santa Barbara. No tourists. No crowds. The sun sets directly over the water, the dolphins and sea lions come in close to the shore and the birds hang out in droves.

We are both tired, the kind of tired that seeps into your bones. The kind of tired that has little connection to how much sleep or exercise you’re getting. It’s the kind of tired that builds up over many months of watching people you love suffer greatly. It’s the kind of tired that comes from grieving the death of someone dear, and the related losses that come with that: the death of dreams and hopes and plans.

We know where this deep tiredness is coming from and we know it cannot be avoided. It’s part and parcel of living to have to deal with grief and it cannot be gotten around, only walked through. But last Friday afternoon, we were so grateful for a chance to just sit and breathe in the beauty of God’s world for a couple of hours.

Dick napped a little, I read a lot, and I just sat and looked out at the ocean a lot. The sight, sound and smell of the ocean is like medicine for what ails me – it truly brings healing and comfort. And a reminder that there is a bigness to God and to God’s creation that can handle all the pain and struggle we suffer in this life. Perhaps even more powerfully true than that, it is a reminder to look for the beauty around us, wherever it can be found. And to take a little time to savor it and let it speak.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Beauty, death, God's gifts, personal journey

“A Light Shining” – A Book Review

November 24, 2012 By Diana

I have absolutely no interest in the Twilight series and I’m not into zombie television, either. What I am into is good story-telling about interesting characters who are struggling with real life issues, trying somehow, by the grace of God, to be the best people they can be.

That’s why I love Michael and Sarah Kent-Hughes. When “The Dancing Priest” was released at the dawn of 2012, I wrote about it in a post describing the power of a good romance. And that book was indeed a most excellent romance, filled with powerful plot twists, intriguing characters, and a happy ending. That’s where I met Michael and Sarah and as I finished that first volume of their story, I heaved a happy sigh.

And almost immediately, experienced a deep longing for more. More story, more surprises, more intrigue, more romance. Happily, I soon discovered that Glynn Young, the outlandishly talented and prolific author of “The Dancing Priest,” was not done with Michael and Sarah’s story, either.

Phew!

Well. Volume 2 in the continuing saga releases on Kindle TODAY, and is available at Amazon now. If you have read the first book, go out there and buy this one now. If you have not read the first one — it is FREE until midnight, so download both of them tonight and have a rich reading experience over the next few days!

“A Light Shining,” is a very different book from, “The Dancing Priest.” Yes, the same characters are here and some fascinating new ones, too. Yes, there is, once again, cross-continental travel in this saga, as well as glimpses into Michael’s everyday life as an Anglican priest. But from the very first sentence, you know that we are most definitely not in Kansas anymore. There is something ominous afoot, a threat that hangs heavy over every page.

Initially, I found this almost 0ff-putting. I love these characters and did not want anything terrible to happen to them! So as the story began, I was cautious. However, I was very quickly drawn into the unfolding of this drama, once again a willing and happy prisoner of the strong plotting and wonderful characters. I will not go into that plot in this review because I actually think that sense of dread is important to the reading of this particular story. Rather than romance, this story is filled with mystery and intrigue, hooking you early and well.

This much I will tell you: not one of us knows what the future holds, even what the next moment might bring. Perhaps we’ll have some old questions answered in amazing ways (one character finds a family he never knew). Perhaps we’ll meet someone who will become dear to us, becoming part of whatever family we have (a couple of those turn up in this story). Perhaps life will be turned completely upside down in a matter of minutes, with the outcome decidedly uncertain and deeply frightening (yes, that happens, too).

It’s all here and it’s all worth reading, believe me. You will be surprised, frightened, amazed and teary-eyed – the full spectrum! The central character of both these books is a priest, so be aware that people pray, talk about God a lot and even have their lives dramatically changed as they open themselves to God’s good work within. The story ranges far and wide and heads in directions that readers of the first book may find surprising. And as it ends, there is an open door, pointing to more story to come. May it be so!