Intro and Part 1 ... Oh hey, I wrote a book

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Hello, and welcome to my not a blog blog!

 

So, I wrote a book, and I want the message of that book to get out regardless of whether or not anyone buys a copy of the book. A blog, so I hear, is a great way to take advantage of SEO and make sure that people who WANT to find content that my book covers will have a clear path to it’s happy little home in the Amazon marketplace and should then be able to walk away with a hard copy, kindle version, or Audible copy of said book. To that end, I will be releasing sneak previews and portions to each chapter over the next several weeks.

 

Can I buy the book today? No, sorry. While it is completed, edited, and proofed, the audio version is currently being recorded by a guy with a much better voice than my own. I have no idea what I am doing in publishing, but I think I want to release it all at once.

 

How did you get your book on Amazon? Well, I am a brilliant author, but I also used Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) that allows me to manage and upload my own manuscript(s), audio, and artwork.

 

So what is the book about?

 

Sovereign and Gentle is a window into my happy little family for those of you who don’t know us as well as a deeper look for those who do. The book will even be informative to some of my closest friends, as I don’t talk about much of this content often.

 

The book opens with the prospect of either Julia or myself donating a Kidney, follows that painful journey, and then backtracks to cover some of our struggles with infertility, multiple miscarriages, foster care, and adoption. I even sprinkled in some real estate investing horror stories for you guys.

 

The story is framed by key passages from Scripture that have been especially meaningful to me, and the climax of the book seeks to honor and praise God, who has gifted us in all things to be able to serve him in and through our struggles.

 

Did I discuss the big church from college days that laid me off on multiple occasions and kicked us out of a house after the pastor went up the river? I did, and I don’t think I’m bitter… I think... I’m a work in progress there, but I hope that I framed that experience in such a manner that others who have been beaten up by institutions can find comfort in the one who is sovereign over all things and in His ultimate plan. 

All that said, here is exerpt #1 from the introduction and Chapter 1 of Sovereign and Gentle

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Introduction 

 

“You know Dave, in light of what Christ has done for us; this kidney donation is really nothing.”  

—Loren Morrow, Kidney recipient.  

` 

Have you ever been accosted by the truth of the gospel and wrapped up in the wonder of something that otherwise should have been incredibly offensive? That’s what this moment was for me. I’ll bring you by way of the following pages into the living room where this conversation took place. This was a moment that should have offended me. It should have shaken me and made me walk out of his home that day, but something unexpected happened in that moment. I wasn’t shaken. I wasn’t offended. The Holy Spirit rang true with those words coming from the man who needed one of my organs. This sacrifice was indeed to be counted as nothing in the light of Christ’s greater sacrifice. How blessed I was to be walking through this with an older Christian man who had been called to suffer for many years with renal failure, dialysis, heart trouble and now a transplant surgery during the COVID-19 outbreak. The following pages do not carry a story of personal bravery or heroism, but rather of God’s gentle leading hand, provision, and care for two sons attempting to walk in humble obedience on the paths to which we had been called.  

 

1. A NEED EXPRESSED 

 

 

 

It was a typical Sunday morning. Julia and I had rushed out the door with our four littles. How little, you ask? Four years of age and under. No, Sunday mornings are not restful for us, and we thank you for asking. We do sometimes fantasize about living a Sabbatarian lifestyle, but then we remember that someone needs to feed, dress, wipe down, and carry these kids to the well-loved and very full swagger wagon. That’s what we call our 2010 Toyota Sienna minivan. This typical frazzled Sunday morning found me half paying attention to Pastor Dan’s announcements and half paying attention to cute baby Luke nestled on Mom’s lap. Two-year-old Joey was in nursery, and four-year-olds Anne and Aleah, were quite adequately represented in the thunderous and supposedly joyful noises coming from 20 plus “Redeemer Rangers” in kids’ church at the bottom of the staircase just outside our small auditorium. Dan’s announcements droned on as only Sunday morning announcements for tired parents can. No offense meant here for poor Dan. I must have looked up halfway through an announcement just in time to hear the term “Loren’s Army.” “What a silly name,” I was thinking as Dan went on talking about how we needed to pray for our brother, Loren, who was in need of a kidney transplant, and who had, with the help of his transplant team at Presbyterian St. Luke’s (PSL), started this thing called Loren’s Army to help raise awareness and hopefully find a living donor for a kidney transplant. I had never even heard of a living organ donation, or if I had, I had never paid attention enough to realize that this was a thing.  

 

I looked past Julia and baby Luke to my left and noticed Loren for the first time I can remember. Loren is a quiet, unassuming man in his mid-60s. Sitting there during this announcement about him, I noticed that he had light brown thinning hair gently combed to one side, soft kind eyes, a joyful grandfatherly potbelly adorning his otherwise average frame, and sort of a pleasant half-smile that welcomed a few dozen darting eyes that shot out at him from around the full auditorium. Dan continued to read on about his failing kidneys and need for a donor, preferably a living donor, as the most severe cases of renal failure dominated the market on decedent donors. Anyone who knew of an interested potential hero for Loren should simply ask that person to send a note to the email on this card, and Loren would be saved to live a happy, healthy, dialysis-free life. “What a great concept,” I must have been thinking. “Isn’t it nice that someone will someday help Loren,” passed through my mind as the kids' shouts and songs rang out from the narrow staircase on my right. Dan finished his announcements and began in a slow prayer, including a time for confession, adoration, praise, and petition as only a lay pastor in a style that only a small, Reformed Baptist congregation can relate to. As we lifted Loren to the throne of the sovereign creator and healer … I felt it; razor blades digging in between my 4th and 5th rib on my left side! Had I been stabbed? Was I shot by a sniper perched up in the PA booth? Had a rabid Pit-bull sneaked into the sanctuary and decided to snack on my ribs? Dan’s payer drowned out as I opened my eyes to discover the source of extreme discomfort. Julia? My sweet little auburn-haired wife, baby in hand, head down in a posture of corporate prayer, was looking right at me with raised eyebrows. “What?” I whispered, knowing exactly what. She whispered something. “Hu?,” I said, craning to hear better. “We should get tested.” She said again. “For what?,” as if I didn’t know. “To see if one of us is a match for Loren.” …  

 

Hold that image, if you will. Julia and I, baby in hand, pretending as if we were praying but silently flirting with a living organ donation. A living organ donation for a man that I had barely ever even noticed and can’t remember even seeing prior to this frazzled half-present Sunday morning service. Heads bowed and eyes locked, As Dan continued in prayer, I honestly couldn’t think of a reason to shoot Julia down, and I didn’t want a reason. The razor blade pain faded into a peaceful realization that this was the leading of the Spirit. This was one of those very special times in our married life where what the Spirit was impressing on one of us, he was also impressing on the other. In that moment, we were unified; we were one flesh; we were a part of the body of Christ being led to minister to another. We had no idea what we were silently agreeing to, but we knew it was right and that we were supposed to bless Loren, who we barely knew.