Followers

Showing posts with label Persecuted Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Persecuted Church. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Privilege of Persecution

Seldom am I as touched and energized by a book as I have been by The Privilege of Persecution by Dr. Carl A. Moeller and David W. Hegg with Craig Hodgkins. This is not an easy-reading, light-and-fluffy escape book; it is an in-your-face and piercing-through-your-heart challenge that will motivate you to a greater commitment to prayer and sacrificial living, as well as a deeper understanding of the Body of Christ.

Thank God for those who are already living such sacrificial lives--and may the rest of us wake up to our true purpose as the Church and join with them while we still have breath and time. I strongly encourage you to get this book for yourself and one for someone else. The time is short, beloved, and we mustn't waste what we have left. Please do a cut-and-paste of the link below and check out this excellent book, will you?

https://secure2.convio.net/ccod/site/Ecommerce/296344083?VIEW_PRODUCT=true&product_id=3681&store_id=1901

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Win one of the Extreme Devotion books!



Do you pray for your brothers and sisters around the world who pay a great price for their faith? Do you have a story to share about the persecuted Church? Leave a comment on that topic and you're automatically entered to win one of the books in the Extreme Devotion series (No Greater Love or More than Conquerors, already available, or Red Ink, releasing late next month). Please leave your contact info! Thanks so much, and God bless!

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Guest Blogger for Voice of the Martyrs

I had the privilege of attending the Voice of the Martyrs conference on Saturday and was asked to write about the conference as a guest blogger on their site. Here’s the link:


http://www.persecutionblog.com/

Monday, November 2, 2009

International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church





November 8 is International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church around the world. With that in mind, I'd like to encourage you to join us in prayer for our brothers and sisters who pay a huge price for choosing to follow Jesus. I'd also like to whet your appetite for my new Extreme Devotion fiction series, four novels that begin releasing in April 2010. Here are the prologues and covers to the first two books. I'll put up the others as soon as I have them. For now, these two are available for pre-order on Amazon.



Book One of the Series: NO GREATER LOVE: Prologue

1989 was not a good year to fall in love—at least not in South Africa, and certainly not with a white man. Chioma had fought it with every ounce of her being, but there it was, literally, in black and white.
Chioma hated whites, and that included Andrew—except that Chioma also loved him. And that made her dilemma even worse.
But at least she had never admitted to him—or anyone else—how she felt, nor did she have any intention of doing so. And yet, the way he looked at her, she could not help but wonder if he knew—and if he felt the same about her.
It was ridiculous, of course, even to think such a thing about a white man, but if it were true, she could only hope he would never be foolish enough to say anything about his feelings—to her or anyone else. Not only would a relationship between them be nearly impossible, but it would be dangerous as well. And Chioma already had enough danger in her life; she certainly did not need to look for more.

Book Two of the Series: MORE THAN CONQUERORS: Prologue
Pastor Hector Manolo Rodriguez sighed with relief, as his dilapidated, once-blue station wagon crawled and chugged through the final inches of the hour-long event known as a border crossing. The international station between San Diego and Tijuana saw the heaviest traffic of any crossing in the world, with about 300,000 people making the trek every day—some to work, some to play, some to shop or visit relatives, and some to conduct illegal activities of various kinds. For Hector, it was strictly a venture of love, one he made regularly and yet was relieved when it was over.
It wasn’t that Hector didn’t appreciate the beauty and modern conveniences of his sister city to the north, but he preferred the slower, quieter pace of his humble home on the outskirts of Tijuana, even now in 2008 when crime increasingly encroached on the peace of their existence. He had lived there his entire thirty-eight years, the middle child in a family of nine offspring, and had later married the beautiful Mariana Lopez, who had grown up right next door to him. That she had even noticed Hector never ceased to amaze him, and that she had agreed to marry him was nothing short of a miracle. Now, still living in the same neighborhood where they grew up, they did their best to feed and clothe the three children God had given them, as well as minister to the fifty or so members of their beloved Casa de Dios congregation. To supplement their income, Hector worked part-time in his younger brother Jorge’s shoe repair shop. Though their financial situation did not allow for luxuries, it did provide a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.
It was a good life, Hector thought, as he coached and prayed the twenty-five year old car through the undisciplined crush of traffic on Avenida Revolucion, the main drag in this burgeoning city of nearly one and a half-million people. As always, Hector was anxious to break away from the city’s hub and escape to a quieter, more navigable thoroughfare. Though the quality of the roads would deteriorate the farther out he went, he would be glad to leave the hustle and bustle of the Tijuana tourism trade behind.
He would also be glad to leave behind the sadness that seemed to cling to him each time he crossed the border. And yet he knew his need to continue making the trip would end far too soon….
Then, of course, there was the situation in Chiapas, which seemed to grow more desperate and dangerous by the day. And his sixty-three year old mother, Virginia Correo Rodriguez, was living right outside San Juan Chamula, right in the middle of it all.