The title interested me; love is such an abstract concept to write about, and is usually channeled with anecdotes and more tangible examples than mere preaching. I had hoped that these nitty-gritties of performance would be stuffed into this impressive-looking book, but I was mistaken.
"The Perfect Love" is Ms. Myers' heart-cry; she is sincere in her wish to show her audience the profound love of Jesus. Taking the reader step by step, showing him or her how much they are loved by the Father, Myers paints an adequate picture of what we can enjoy in God's arms. While the world places too much emphasis on love based off sexual appeal or empty promises of temporary pleasure, Myers's book seeks to show a greater love, one that goes beyond fleeting emotion.
God's love will never forsake us or leave us to fend or ourselves; this is the truth, and Myers does a good job of getting that across. My main issue with the book was that although she is sincere and writes well, Myers does little in this particular book to capture the fancy. Evocative writers such as Max Lucado or C.S. Lewis use real-life examples to bring home their point. Without a stronger sense of personality, Myers comes across as dry and boring.
Although this book wouldn't rate high in my mind, it's still worth the time put into reading it--especially if you need to be reminded of the love that so many of us crave, the love that will never walk out the door.
If you would like to buy this book from Amazon, click here.
Disclaimer: I received this book for free from Waterbrook-Multnomah.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
I was in the living room at the time, unobtrusively watching my mom vacuum. The TV was on--some program had been interrupted by an alarming news update. The vacuum's grainy, clunking roar powered down and I watched the images on the sixteen-inch screen, mouth probably open, wondering what this would mean. My brain had skipped the immediate problem; I wanted to know, What happens next? Where are we supposed to go from here, what are we to do with this threat?
A woman was adjusting her glasses after the crash, lying in the upper floor of one of the World Trade buildings; her face was dripping blood. Out of the smog-like smoke emerged a young man, a red kerchief tied around his nose and mouth. Voice calm, authoritative, he said, "I've found the stairs, follow me." He carried the woman down multiple flights of stairs to the firefighters still making their way up. And instead of following the firefighters and their rescued to safety, the man with the red kerchief went back. News reports verify that he saved the lives of at least twelve people. He was able to send his mother a short voice-mail, "I'm okay", before the building swayed, groaned, and crashed, killing him and many other brave, innocent people. People who could have gone on to accomplish great things in their lives: to enjoy the touch of a partner's warm hand, sink their teeth into ripe fruit, lie in a bathtub working off the stress, watch their baby girl walk down the aisle. Things we take for granted, we who are still alive after that tragedy ten years ago.
Now the coordinators of the commemoration ceremony for 9-11 have not allowed evangelicals to speak; as if Christians given that precious honor would be so ignorant as to begin Bible-beating the crowds, taking this sorrowful but poignant commemoration as a publicity spoof for their own gain, so more tally marks can be added to their stash of Saved Souls. As if that's all we care about. As if we don't know about the Muslims who are not at fault for our suffering, the ones who had nothing to do with the terrorists, terrorists who themselves were blinded by a religion that was simply not true or strong enough to stand on its own two feet when faced with such a moral dilemma. What the terrorists did was wrong but I love the Muslims. I don't think of them as a threat, or lost souls to be mass transformed into plastic, perfect, upstanding Christians. I've read their Koran, the verbatim word of authority in their religion. I know what they think Allah calls them to do, and it's just plain wrong.
But what those in authority are doing, restricting evangelicals from speaking, isn't just politically correct; it's spiritually perverse. It's a terrorism on the soul, and it's just as deadly as any aircraft. Can we just forget about our selfish pride, stop obsessing over offending people, and speak honestly, from the raw core of our souls? Can we stop in our daily routines, pause in the buttering of our toast or the concentration of college classes or the deepness of our meditations, and think, wow, people are out there who need to hear what I have to say, if only I had the courage to say it? To the nation that claimed free speech but who is now restricting it, I say God bless us. God bless the Muslims who are willing to consider other ways of thinking, the true peace from Jesus. God bless those who are hurting today, perhaps the survivor sitting alone in his apartment sobbing or the woman who lost a husband, a son, a friend. God bless the blind-sided rulers who are trying to stifle the sincere, unbiased words of "potentially volatile" Christians, rulers who are forgetting that they themselves are but human. And God bless people like the man with the red kerchief; it is because of you that we stand firm today.
A woman was adjusting her glasses after the crash, lying in the upper floor of one of the World Trade buildings; her face was dripping blood. Out of the smog-like smoke emerged a young man, a red kerchief tied around his nose and mouth. Voice calm, authoritative, he said, "I've found the stairs, follow me." He carried the woman down multiple flights of stairs to the firefighters still making their way up. And instead of following the firefighters and their rescued to safety, the man with the red kerchief went back. News reports verify that he saved the lives of at least twelve people. He was able to send his mother a short voice-mail, "I'm okay", before the building swayed, groaned, and crashed, killing him and many other brave, innocent people. People who could have gone on to accomplish great things in their lives: to enjoy the touch of a partner's warm hand, sink their teeth into ripe fruit, lie in a bathtub working off the stress, watch their baby girl walk down the aisle. Things we take for granted, we who are still alive after that tragedy ten years ago.
Now the coordinators of the commemoration ceremony for 9-11 have not allowed evangelicals to speak; as if Christians given that precious honor would be so ignorant as to begin Bible-beating the crowds, taking this sorrowful but poignant commemoration as a publicity spoof for their own gain, so more tally marks can be added to their stash of Saved Souls. As if that's all we care about. As if we don't know about the Muslims who are not at fault for our suffering, the ones who had nothing to do with the terrorists, terrorists who themselves were blinded by a religion that was simply not true or strong enough to stand on its own two feet when faced with such a moral dilemma. What the terrorists did was wrong but I love the Muslims. I don't think of them as a threat, or lost souls to be mass transformed into plastic, perfect, upstanding Christians. I've read their Koran, the verbatim word of authority in their religion. I know what they think Allah calls them to do, and it's just plain wrong.
But what those in authority are doing, restricting evangelicals from speaking, isn't just politically correct; it's spiritually perverse. It's a terrorism on the soul, and it's just as deadly as any aircraft. Can we just forget about our selfish pride, stop obsessing over offending people, and speak honestly, from the raw core of our souls? Can we stop in our daily routines, pause in the buttering of our toast or the concentration of college classes or the deepness of our meditations, and think, wow, people are out there who need to hear what I have to say, if only I had the courage to say it? To the nation that claimed free speech but who is now restricting it, I say God bless us. God bless the Muslims who are willing to consider other ways of thinking, the true peace from Jesus. God bless those who are hurting today, perhaps the survivor sitting alone in his apartment sobbing or the woman who lost a husband, a son, a friend. God bless the blind-sided rulers who are trying to stifle the sincere, unbiased words of "potentially volatile" Christians, rulers who are forgetting that they themselves are but human. And God bless people like the man with the red kerchief; it is because of you that we stand firm today.
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