Action Attraction: The Action Bible Book Giveaway

“Take care of your backpack, please,” I said to my son.

“Okay, Mom,” he said. “But first can I read my Bible?”

Never expected to hear that in a million years. And read he does. Independently. And learn. Without prompting.

Enter The Action Bible. We gave him the book this past Christmas.

“Mom, did you know Jerusalem was conquered by a series of empires?” he said. “Babylon conquered Jerusalem, Persia conquered Babylon, Greece conquered Persia, and Rome conquered Greece.”

Oh, dear. Mom needs a refresher course. This isn’t kid’s stuff.

Brilliantly illustrated by Sergio Cariello, The Action Bible brings to life more than 200 Bible stories in the exciting style of the graphic novel. The result is riveting.

Here’s a sampling from a familiar story on pages 280 and 281:

Copyright 2010 Sergio Cariello. The Action Bible published by David C Cook. Publisher permission required to reproduce. All rights reserved.

The Action Bible cover crop — Copyright 2010 Sergio Cariello. The Action Bible published by David C Cook. Publisher permission required to reproduce. All rights reserved.

The thrilling narrative and bright colors capture my son’s attention. And they remind me God is not some namby-pamby, sissy deity.

I’m as guilty as any kumbayah Christian of embracing God’s tenderness and mercy—the essence of His character, to the neglect of the ferocity of His determinant power. God is love, yes. God is also holy, strong, and just.

The struggles in the Bible and in our time are life and death battles. Humanity hangs in the balance. There’s violence and vengeance, plagues and murder. Fire ripping from the sky. Blood dripping from a splintered, wooden cross.

Want to brush up on your Bible stories? Never learned them in the first place? Here’s your chance.

Maybe you love the Bible. Want the kids (or adults) in your life to love it too, without your nagging? The Action Bible is a fantastic place to begin.

As milk helps us to develop a hunger for meat, The Action Bible whets the appetite for Scripture in those who would dare to read it.

So will the Words that come out of My mouth
not come back empty-handed.
They’ll do the work I sent them to do,
They’ll complete the assignment I gave them. Isaiah 55:11 The Message

God’s Not Dead. He’s surely alive. Newsboys.

We’re Giving Away a Copy of The Action Bible!

Here’s how to enter:

To enter the drawing for The Action Bible, simply comment on this post.

You have until midnight, Tuesday, April 3rd, to comment to enter.

Only one comment per reader please.

A winner will be randomly drawn and contacted Wednesday, April 4th.

I will personally pay to ship the book to an address of the winner’s choosing within the contiguous U.S. in time for Easter. International shipping cannot be guaranteed in time for Easter.

Disclaimer

I’m not being compensated to promote this book.

I was so impressed with The Action Bible that I contacted the publisher David C. Cook myself. They were kind enough to honor my requests for permission to show the illustrations in this post and for a book to give away.

They also surprised my son with something I did not request, their new book The Action Bible New Testament. I am thankful for their graciousness.

Suggested Links to Like

The Action Bible Facebook page

Sergio Cariello Facebook page

David C. Cook Facebook page

The Action Bible website (Listen for thunder and see the trailer here.)

Comment by midnight, Tuesday, April 3rd,
to enter the drawing for The Action Bible!

Posted on March 28, 2012July 9, 2012 by Aimee 38

Destination: Perspective

Sometimes what I really need to do is run away. Travel can hold the ticket to a clearer, better perspective.

I may go to a faraway place and detox from the real world. But there are closer, shorter voyages that achieve similar, lifesaving results.

Drive 200 miles to see an old friend. Spend the hours alone in the car. Singing with the radio. Turning it off to discuss things with God. Questioning. Talking it over. Being heard. Listening.

Or take a long lunch to catch up with someone I haven’t seen in a while. Break down the state of the world as we know it. Pick up where we left off as if the time never passed at all.

Or simply bow out of the room for five minutes. Walk around the block. Step back. Breathe. Remember what’s important. Re-engage with peace.

My favorite psychology professor in grad school once told my class a secret. He said he recommended depressed people go to the mountains or the ocean. I imagine the plains, desert, or forest would work as well.

It is in such places they could come face to face with how small they are and how big God is. Surrender to it and find refuge. Then come home able to move—even if ever so slightly—forward.

Perspective is easy to lose, but not so hard to regain either.

Here you thought it was gone forever, but look. There it is a few miles up ahead.

God’s love is meteoric,
His loyalty astronomic,
His purpose titanic,
His verdicts oceanic.
Yet in His largeness
nothing gets lost;
Not a man, not a mouse,
slips through the cracks. Psalm 36:5-6 The Message

You Lead, I’ll follow, by Jamie Grace.

Meet Traveling with the Jones

The incredible photos in this post are compliments of Janis and Jeff Jones, my traveling friends who see the value in venturing.

Traveling with the Jones

Between the two of them, they’ve traveled to 80 different countries, all 50 states, and 175 cruise ports around the world.

“Travel, for us, is about personal growth,” says Janis. “It gets us out of our routines and our comfort zones; it broadens our horizons and breaks down our misconceptions. Through our travels, we’ve found people are basically the same despite living under vastly different circumstances and cultures.”

Janis and Jeff share a wealth of travel tips and info. Follow them on their blog Traveling with the Jones, on Facebook, and on Twitter @travelinjones. If you can keep up, that is.

Posted on March 21, 2012July 10, 2012 by Aimee 6

The Truth About 150

Yesterday my first grader explained to me a squabble he was having in school.

“George (not his real name) says one hundred AND fifty,” he said. “I told him it’s one hundred fifty.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s one hundred fifty.”

“Yeah, but then everyone said, ‘Nu-uh! It’s one hundred AND fifty,'” he said.

I grabbed a piece of paper to illustrate.

“You write it like this: 150,” I said. “Not like this: 100 AND 50. See?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“So you say it that way, too,” I said. “One hundred fifty.”

“Well, George says it’s one hundred AND fifty,” he said. “I’m going to tell him again he’s wrong.”

“Honey,” I said. Deep breath. “You can tell him, but he may not believe you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “He probably needs to hear it from his parents.”

“Unless his parents also think it’s one hundred AND fifty,” I said. “It doesn’t matter. You know what’s right and you told him. Even if the whole class disagrees, it’s still one hundred fifty.”

My son was quiet.

“I’m going to tell them it’s one hundred fifty,” he said. “And then when they say, ‘Nu-uh! No, it’s not!…'”

Pause.

“I’ll just say, ‘Oh, forget it.'”

He has a point.

Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces. Matthew 7:6 NIV

Forget About It by Alison Krauss and Union Station. What unforgettable talent. Enjoy the weekend!

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Posted on March 9, 2012July 12, 2012 by Aimee 12

Church Search

I’ve gone to church all my life, except for The Wander Years between 18 and 24.

During that time, I was guilty of all sorts of unspeakable atrocities, including voting for Bill Clinton in 1992.

I jest. Sort of. My super smart PoliSci roommate was right about him all along.

Those years are replete with fascinating stories. Alas, that’s another post. Or maybe a book.

This post is about church.

Since relocating, we’ve been visiting churches. We’re weighing several factors: the doctrinal soundness of the teaching, the content of worship, the children’s ministries, how naturally we could fit it and participate.

Finding a church is a little like finding a doctor or hair stylist. There are a lot of good ones out there, but only a few you’d be comfortable seeing regularly.

Having been in church so long, I’ve experienced some vibrant, healthy, edifying communities. And I’ve seen my share of scandals, splits, legalism, and hypocrisy.

Hypocrisy. With trepidation I list it. The trespass all of us commit because none of us is perfect. That’s an important lesson I began to come to terms with to emerge from The Wander Years and give church another try.

People will fail you. It will happen.

One pastor I know said people often ask him if they will be hurt by becoming part of a church.

“Yes,” he said. “If you stick around long enough, yes.”

So why go? Well, that’s part of the lesson too. People will fail you; God will not. I go to church because it’s an integral part of following after Him.

My individual walk, my personal prayers, my Bible study are imperative, but incomplete if I’m not relating with other imperfect people who are also following after God.

As surely as some of those people will fail me, I will fail some of them.

More often on this trajectory though, glimmers of Christ-likeness shine through. We support one another. Pray with and for one another. Learn together. Stand together as a smaller community and as part of The Church, the greater congregation of believers across the ages.

Looking for a church is not easy. Some weeks I get discouraged. But I’ve been around this block before. I know the search is worth it.

If you’re looking for a church community, take heart. Don’t give up. Keep visiting. Pray for wisdom. Trust God to provide. Follow after Him.

If you’re in a good church, by all means go. With thanksgiving and gratitude, go. Be a participant, not an observer.

And if you’re in a church where you’ve prayerfully done all you can and it’s still not working for whatever reason, it may be time to move on. Quietly, without making a fuss, leave in order to find a healthier situation.

crossonpavement — white cross on blue ground

Being part of a good church is too important not to pursue.

Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of His return is drawing near. Hebrews 10:24-25 NLT

Don’t give up. Let the Waters Rise by Mikeschair.

Posted on March 7, 2012July 10, 2012 by Aimee 26

Thunderstorm

It’s been a week since we experienced our first Kansas thunderstorm. Think Dorothy in a giant, echoing dishwasher.

Last Thursday night, we were nestled all snug in our beds when out of nowhere came the strong wind. Bellowing thunder. Rain whipping against the windows. Four paws pouncing on my back.

The paws belonged to my dog. Her least favorite thing in the world is a thunderstorm. (Her most favorite thing in the world is rotisserie chicken.)

Our bed was damaged in our recent move to Kansas, so my husband and I are sleeping on our mattress and box springs on the floor. Kind of like camping.

This arrangement gives our small dog access to our bed. When the thunderstorm hit, our terrified terrier was glued to my side, trying to burrow under the covers.

It’s not easy to sleep that way, unless you’re like my husband who can sleep through anything.

Not me. I laid awake in bed, holding my dog, listening to the sky rattle and hum and shake and scream.

As I shared in Moon Walk, where we live in Kansas is flat and mostly devoid of trees. Nothing but God and ground and sky. Thunder echoes and booms like tympani in a large, empty room.

Nothing to buffer the wind. No gusts either. No chance to clear the hair from your face or adjust your vision. Kansas wind is sustained, constant, relentless.

Rain flies horizontally across the prairie. It attacks the house. A smattering of bullets against the siding.

“Jeff, do you hear that?” I whispered. “Should we go to the basement?”

The sounds reverberated, bouncing to the earth and back to the sky then down again. Angry and loud.

In my mind, I knew this was just a thunderstorm. It was not tornadic. It could not hurt me inside my house.

Even if it was tornadic and plowed my house to the ground—even if it killed me, it could not destroy me. Easier to write those words now than to remember them in the storm.

Storms are like this. They seem to erupt out of nowhere. They are no respecter of persons. None of us is immune.

Storms may devastate, frighten, hurt, and kill. They can last minutes or decades. Afterward, it may take years to rebuild.

But in Christ there is a place storms cannot touch. A place sealed and safe.

And there is a Person present in the storm. He stands beside us in the suffering and terror, even in death.

God, help me remember this because I know I will forget.

Next time the sky tears open and rages against me, next time I tremble, remind me You are with me. There is nothing to fear.

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” from Isaiah 43:1-3 NIV

Never Let Go by The David Crowder Band.

Posted on February 9, 2012January 18, 2013 by Aimee 19

Cats and Dogs

Didn’t plan to post today. Heard this in church and had to share. The difference between cats and dogs, from the pulpit:

dogspillow — dog pillow as seen at Traditions in Wichita, traditionsathome.com

A dog thinks, “My master feeds me, gives me a place to rest, takes care of me, and shows me love. He must be God!”

catpillow — cat pillow as seen at Traditions in Wichita, traditionsathome.com

A cat thinks, “My master feeds me, gives me a place to rest, takes care of me, and shows me love. I must be God!”

There you have it. Cats and dogs.

Which are you?

The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” from Psalm 14:1 NIV

Monday morning on Broadway with Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats.

For the Record

one dog at rest

This post is not a moral judgement on cats and dogs. It isn’t about cats and dogs at all. If you think it is, read it again.

We currently have one dog. I’d like to add a cat, but my husband claims not to be a cat person. Strange because cats are drawn to him like magnets.

Maybe they think he’s God.

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Posted on February 6, 2012July 9, 2012 by Aimee 18

Nothing Good Gets Away

My mother once remarked on the differences between two of her children. While one said, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” the other said, “There is no tomorrow.”

Guess which one you’re reading.

Brace yourself. This may come as a surprise.

I’m a little high-strung.

The only gray in my life is on my head when I miss my salon appointment. I’m black and white—and read all over. Considered by some to be entertaining as well.

Although I may look super cool, my nature is type A. Prone to burnout, breakdowns and digestive issues.

Last post you read about how I drive with intention. You may have detected an urgency in other posts too, and you probably will again.

Live now. We’re not getting any younger. Get those ducks in a row. Just do it. Today, please.

When taken to extremes, our strengths look a lot like weaknesses. So I’m learning with age, motherhood, circumstances, my husband’s encouragement, and God’s gentle prodding to cool it. Take my foot off the gas pedal once in a while. Give myself and the rest of the world a break.

As much as I hate it, things spin out of my control.

Okay. Things were never in my control in the first place.

Pacing doesn’t come easy. But with practice and God’s grace, it’s possible to slow down. To actively wait and rest. As I heard the pastor say in yesterday’s sermon, “The invitation is to trust.”

One of my favorite quotes is from writer John Steinbeck. “Don’t worry about losing,” he said. “If it is right, it happens. The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.”

God has a good plan for you and me. He’s the driver. Nothing we do or don’t do stands in His way. God’s plan will be accomplished in spite of us.

Time to rest on that.

And I am certain that God, Who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. Philippians 1:6 NLT

Taking My Time, Ashton, Becker & Dente.

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Posted on January 30, 2012July 14, 2012 by Aimee 12

Namaste

Yoga is not for sissies.

Back in the day, I casually practiced yoga. It was easy then.

The asanas, or poses, were akin to warmup stretches I’d done for years cheerleading. My body was young. My muscles were flexible. Life was good.

That was before I carried a child in my womb for nine months, gave birth to him, then proceeded to sacrifice my body in all manner of ways to raise him into the fine, young first grader he is today.

One can only run on the fumes of a good fitness history for so long. Years of stress, changes and parenting begin to show.

Junk in the trunk. Bowl full of jelly. A little waddle here or there.

So when we arrived in Wichita, our family joined the YMCA. The Ys here are impressive and affordable. We needed to get into shape. It was destiny.

Went to my first yoga class last Friday.

I sweated. I stumbled. I noticed I how badly I need a pedicure.

I struggled to breathe as the instructor lead our class into the 30th chaturanga dandasana of the hour. Good push-ups gone bad.

When yoga instructors give the command to do some New Age visualization, feel the energy bands, look to the inner flame or whatever, I talk to God instead.

At one point last Friday, I feared I was going to meet Him.

The instructor was trying to kill me. A pencil-thin, pretzel-like assassin intent on carrying out yogini’s revenge. Downward, dog.

When the class was over, an older gentleman who had labored alongside me approached the instructor. “Great class,” he said. “I’m glad I got to see it.”

Then the woman behind me spoke up. “There’s a beginner’s class tomorrow morning,” she said. “We go slow and take it nice and easy. You’ll be with a bunch of other people who are learning.”

A remedial class?!

Use it or or lose it. Reap what you sow. Law of the land. Ah, but there is another law at work.

The yin and yang? The swinging pendulum? The circle of life? Hardly.

Grace is at work.

Grace spoke Saturday morning in the company of beginners. “Hold this pose if you want and can. Or not if you don’t. This is the Y. We’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Easy does it. One step at a time.

We drop the ball. Wreck the train. Make a chocolate mess. Waddle here or there.

“Pick it up and try again,” says Grace. “I’ll help you.”

Namaste, Grace. Namaste.

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. Romans 8:1-2 NIV

Amazing Grace by Leann Rimes. Sing it, sister.

Namaste is a friendly greeting between people when they meet. Derived from Sanskrit, it literally means “bow me to you” translated as “I bow to you”… In other words, when one says “Namaste” to another it means “I salute or recognize your presence or existence in society and the universe.” wikipedia.org

Posted on January 10, 2012July 14, 2012 by Aimee 25

Merry Christmas from everyday epistle

pbjoytotheworld — as seen at pottery barn

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this. Isaiah 9:6-7 NIV

Posted on December 25, 2011July 9, 2012 by Aimee 4

Soot

Life is not for the fainthearted.

Our past three houses have been old, old, old. Heated with radiators powered by boilers. The landlord for our current house asked us to schedule a boiler check.

Last Wednesday, grouchy service guy was supposed to arrive between 8 a.m. and noon. What time did he show up? Around 12:15 p.m.

It’s routine maintenance, I thought to myself. He’ll be gone in no time flat. Then I can get on with my life.

Three hours later, he’s still in the basement. Should have known I was in trouble when he told me he needed our garden hose.

“But I have all our stuff organized and stored down here for the movers,” I said. “Maybe you can come back and do this after we’re gone.”

“I’ll run the water down through the boiler and into the floor drain,” he said. “Your floor’s got a nice slope.”

A nice slope. Terrific.

I moved as much stuff as far away from ground zero as I could, retreated upstairs, and shut the door. The hours passed and it was approaching pickup time for my son at school.

“How’s it going down there?” I said from the landing.

“I’m done cleaning the boiler,” he said. Then he stepped into view. He was covered head to foot with grimy soot.

“Now I need to come upstairs and drain the radiators. Are they all clear where I can get to them?”

A mild panic ensued somewhere deep inside me. I think it was in my liver or maybe my spleen.

“Uh, give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll clear the way.”

He did not give me a minute, but came charging up the stairs.

“Um, I need to get my son soon,” I said. “When will you be finishing up?”

“After I drain the radiators, all that’s left is cleaning up the mess downstairs,” he said. “Tell you what. Rather than me cleaning it, how about I give you a $50 credit and get out of your hair?”

“Okay,” I said cautiously. When he stepped out to his truck, I skedaddled to the basement.

A thin layer of black soot rested silently on every surface.

“I don’t want the credit,” I said when he came back into the house. “Go ahead and clean it up. We’ll pay you the extra.”

That’s when grouchy service guy got sassy. All huffing and puffing, throwing attitude around, like the big bad wolf or a 16-year-old.

As he stomped down the stairs, I made a call. “I think you should come home,” I said to my husband.

Of course when my husband got home, sassy grouchy service guy sang a different song. The menfolk got on the phone with the landlord and worked out a deal. I didn’t care. My day was shot. I was done.

Come to find out, the soot now all over the basement had been a serious fire hazard as carbon inside the boiler. Perhaps we’d escaped flames via sassy grouchy service guy and a garden hose. God works in mysterious ways.

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And My ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so My ways are higher than your ways
and My thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9 NLT

Strong Enough to Save, Tenth Avenue North.

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Posted on December 5, 2011July 14, 2012 by Aimee 8

Hills of Heaven

My husband and I traveled to the California wine country for a work conference last November. The things we do for his career.

One afternoon, our group had lunch at Kuleto Estate situated high on a steep, rocky hill. Looked out over vineyards afire with fall color. The sky seemed larger. Our feet lighter.

kuletoestatehillside — our view from Kuleto Estate

Dined outdoors on the side of the mountain at a long table. Ate vegetables picked fresh from the gardens that morning, delectable meats and desserts prepared by the resident chef. It was so perfect, I kept looking for Martha Stewart to step out from behind a tree.

Couldn’t help but think this must be what heaven is like. Friends, food, fresh air, mountains, vineyards, olive trees.

That day left me longing for a place where I’d be with everyone I loved, eating and talking and laughing. Savoring each moment, followed by ten thousand upon ten thousand more. Finally safe. Finally home.

On the way back to our bus, we passed a pen of poultry. It was there I came face to face with a most majestic creature.

Heaven is filled with laughter that satiates the soul. I just know it is.

The best of the now is a hint of what’s to come. An assurance of the place He has for us.

Meet me there. One day, meet me there.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:4 NIV

Going Home by Sara Groves: I’ll meet you at the table.