We were called The Little Potatoes and Hard to Peel . . . we were smaller than the other kids and maybe not as talented, but we always played with our hearts. So, it didn't matter if we won or lost, we never got down, because we knew on the inside . . . we were tuff and hard to peel.
This is how David's grandfather, Pop Pop, begins a legendary story about his little league baseball team during a family reunion in Kentucky, along the winding Ohio River. As the tale unravels, David starts to think Pop Pop might be teaching him more than just the rules of baseball. Back home in Georgia, David is embarking on a new adventure as he begins middle school, a time of exciting changes that he will navigate single-handedly. David was born without his right hand, a glitch that allows him to adapt differently to all experiences. Soon, he finds himself wondering if he can follow in his grandfather's footsteps and join his little league all-star team with one mitt. Full of vulnerability and despair, humor and hope, we learn the universal power of his grandfather's story as it echoes in David's life, reminding us to not let challenges, obstacles, and perceived limitations peel away the core of our humanity.
Many people today think the most effective means to reach this postmodern world for Christ is for the church to become more attractive and relevant to the culture. It must reinvent itself, adjust its gospel message, be less dogmatic, more therapeutic, tolerant, and entertaining. It must pander to the culture, take up its social causes, even conform to itbut never oppose it. Yet such a position is totally foreign to Scripture and therefore mitigates the power and blessing of God. With clarity and conviction, Dave Harrell guides readers through the priorities of a biblically focused ministry paradigma paradigm that transcends the vagaries of modern culturethat may be applied with confidence by ministers and Christian leaders alike.
Hoy en d a, muchas personas piensan que el medio m s eficaz de alcanzar este mundo posmoderno para Cristo es que la iglesia se vuelva m s atractiva y relevante para la cultura. Creen que la iglesia debe reinventarse, ajustar su mensaje evang lico, ser menos dogm tica, m s terap utica, tolerante y entretenida. Adem s, afirman que la iglesia debe complacer a la cultura, asumir sus causas sociales, incluso adaptarse a ella, pero nunca oponerse a ella. Sin embargo, tal postura es totalmente ajena a las Escrituras y, por lo tanto, aten a el poder y la bendici n de Dios.
Dave Harrell, con claridad y convicci n, gu a a los lectores a trav s de las prioridades de un paradigma b blico para el ministerio, un paradigma que trasciende los caprichos de la cultura moderna y que puede ser aplicado con confianza por ministros y l deres cristianos por igual.
Many people today think the most effective means to reach this postmodern world for Christ is for the church to become more attractive and relevant to the culture. It must reinvent itself, adjust its gospel message, be less dogmatic, more therapeutic, tolerant, and entertaining. It must pander to the culture, take up its social causes, even conform to it but never oppose it. Yet such a position is totally foreign to Scripture and therefore mitigates the power and blessing of God.
With clarity and conviction, Dave Harrell guides readers through the priorities of a biblically focused ministry paradigm a paradigm that transcends the vagaries of modern culture that may be applied with confidence by ministers and Christian leaders alike.
The indomitable strength and power of the Legion were once a source of pride for the Firan people, and those who heard of their deeds in battle once cowered at the news of their coming. Their numbers were without peer, their endurance for hardship was without equal, and no one among the other realms could match their ferocity and determination in combat. They had once been divided, and then they were united, and for a time in history, their dominance was unchallenged, but pride preceded their fall as they were torn asunder at the coming of the Great Beast.
Its shadow of death swept over the Firan forces in a tidal wave of war, and the blast from its nostrils incinerated men and consumed their bones reducing them to ash. Its talons were like a blade on the wind, and its roar was like the sound of a thousand thunders, and the heavens themselves were commanded by its fury, and no one could stand against it and live. It had taken days to gather the Legion and years to unite the tribes, but in a single night, the Great Beast came and destroyed all the Firans had hoped for.
Fifty years followed this tragic event, and the people of the Burning Realm lived in relative peace. The war was over, the population was healing, and unification seemed once again to be within reach. Though rumors of evil floated about, and though the tides of destruction were felt by some, festivities and celebrations were carried out to herald the season of joy they were in, but on their borders was a darkened figure whose presence would soon be felt by all, and the Great Beast watched the glow of the horizon and rose to return to the Burning Realm.
In the Stony Realm, the worth of a man was measured by the size of his account and his relationship to it. Pius or agnostic, virtuous or vicious, ethical or otherwise, the scales of the economy had but one dichotomy. One was either valuable or worthless. Everyone from the richest merchants and their whispering advisors to the poorest beggars and the vermin they lived with understood this system. They lived under it, bargained from within it, and though many were sacrificed for it, not everyone agreed with it.
The winds of change were blowing, and what was once a pleasant breeze transformed into a raging tempest. Militias grumbled with discontent over the terms of their contracts, and the powers of the realm, still reeling from the drain of the war, squeezed as much as they could from the denizens. The transactional nature of their relationships became a focal point of contention, and then there was news from the north. The Great Destroyer was loose in the world.
Investors placed their bets, and the wealthy built what hedges they could against potential losses. Friends became acquaintances, competitors became adversaries, and the companies they employed remained as tools for their self-centered avarice. The name of the game became survival of the fittest. Such was the state of the realm, but this was a game the Destroyer had no interest in playing. The once great Commonwealth of Associated Interests incurred a debt, and the time had come to collect.
The Hollow Realm was like an oasis among the others, a land of restoration, abundance, and peace, but it was also a zealously guarded realm inhabited by powerful spirits, resilient beasts, and the elusive Hunters. To them and their people, the great wilderness of the forest was a garden to be protected, but to their neighbor in the south, it was a vast untamed estate.
Initial contact between the Aural and Hollow Realms was strained but quickly soothed by a hunter's forgiveness and understanding. From there, the two lands exchanged beliefs, resources, and information, but this bond eventually became a snare to the people of the Hollow Realm as war dawned on the horizon.
Spurred by their alliance with the south, the Hunters were encouraged to mobilize and fight against the rising magic arts of the Saline Realm, but they were given signs and prophecies through oracles to abstain from conflict or suffer great destruction. The Salians and Kings both sent delegates to argue their case, and the Garden was divided on what to do. Before long, however, the Hollow Realm honored the cause of their ally and went to war.
Over the course of the bloody campaign, a force of calamity appeared on the battlefield, and it tore into the Garden with unrivaled fury and unbridled wrath. Those who survived described a Terror too fearsome to behold, and after a third of the Hollow Realm was rendered lifeless, the people of the Hollow Realm abandoned the Aural Realm and set their backs to the outside world. After the war ended, the people stayed insulated from the events that followed, and when the Terror returned to the Garden once more, he no longer brought with him a storm of destruction but a firm and gentle tempest of change.
Alchemy, the Art of Change, was the premier power of the Silent Realm and the center of her ingenuity. It was the model by which society was structured and the standard by which everything was measured. It was the process through which everything was made and the fulcrum on which the nation and its people oscillated. It was the beginning and end of all things in the land, and like any discipline worth pursuing, alchemy required sacrifice.
The Clockwork Cosmos, perpetual and unyielding, was established by the Eternal and maintained by His particles. It was a masterwork of construction, a triumph of intelligence and foresight wrought together by the Synthetic Alchemist Himself, and it was more than an abode for its inhabitants. It was an example to be studied, and it too echoed the immutable truth of alchemy. Progress required sacrifice.
Taurus, the sovereign and supreme nation of the Silent Realm, indisputable in its brilliance and unrivaled in its advancements, it sat as the most advanced and technologically superior land in all the world. The people lived free protected by the automatons and the benefits of their enhanced and educated communities. As citizens and members of their respective castes, they too understood the nobility of knowing their place. Responsibility required sacrifice.
But the Great Destroyer looked upon these notions with contempt. Taurus was a thinly veiled anathema, a corrupter of humanity, and an abomination of nature. The Silent Realm may have arrayed herself in the splendor and knowledge of the heavens, but she was still mortal and thus subject to the Reaper.
It was an art through which men and women were able to realize their own will, an art by which a person could exert control over themselves and their surroundings. It was an art that enabled one to become a master of self, and this art, this magic, was once seen as a gift. As the ages progressed, understanding of magic grew, and it steadily turned from a heavenly blessing into a man-made curse. The Saline Realm, latest inheritor of this art, formed as a beneficiary of its power, but it also attracted the ire of the Outer Realms as a result.
Cited as an affront to the laws of nature, war erupted among the seven realms as six united to destroy the nation of Salia. Surrounded by enemies, the Saline Realm contracted and fought hopelessly for survival, but during a season of abject desperation, a figure rose to prominence whose influence and strength would turn the war in their favor. His will leveled cities, his enmity burned legions to ash, and his wrath formed craters in the landscape. He became known as the Great Destroyer, and after two centuries of fighting, the war ended with the Salians claiming victory.
While returning to the Saline Realm, her champion hoped to be acknowledged as a person. Through no will of his own, he was brought into the fight. Through no desire of his own, he became a weapon of war, but the bitter, prejudiced words of his compatriots marred this hope. Comforted only by his captain, he came back to a people ambivalent to his humanity, and he left the battlefield of nations to be embroiled in a new struggle at home.