The picture that accompanies this post was taken during my Peru trip this summer. It shows the only route the people who live in this small village on the outskirts of Lima take to get to their homes. When I started climbing, I realized how little stood between me and a long, dusty, rocky way down. But I made the decision to climb because God had placed the steps in front of me. Several years ago, I told Him I would no longer say “no” to opportunities like that, but step in—or up—to them. Today, I’m thinking of those who are making similar journeys, many with much more at stake. You are my heroes. Travelers to the unknown, this prayer’s for you. Father God, I thank You for these brave ones who are stepping into the unknown. Some have great power and responsibility, which makes the risk even greater. Some have little power but great courage. God, we ask that this time of what could be trepidation would become a time of trust. We ask You to use the uncertainty to drive men and women to the One who is certain and sure. We ask for Your power, Your wisdom, Your strength to follow Your lead. When we walk in faith, Lord, every day and every moment is a step into the unknown. But we thank You that, because You know our names, we do not need to fear. We need not worry. We need not turn back. God, grant us new levels of faith as You give us new levels of opportunity. Teach us to count the cost as we number our days and to present to You a heart of wisdom, a heart that continues to seek You and Your truth. Let us not become thrill-seekers but God-seekers instead. Thank You for hearing our prayers and for knowing our hearts. In the powerful name of Jesus I pray, AMEN.   Are you stepping into the unknown? Do you know someone who is? Feel free to share a comment or prayer request below or send them the link to this prayer. And thank You for continuing to...

I didn’t like biblical fiction. Until I, Saul. Don’t judge me. My disdain began when, years ago, I read a popular series that adapted Christ’s story into a modern-day environment. That’s not true biblical fiction, but despite its popularity, the poor writing in the series soured me on any novel that put the Bible in fiction form. Since then, I’ve read only a handful of books in this genre and have avoided many more. Until I, Saul. Chapter by chapter, I Saul alternates between present-day thriller and the biblical fiction I was sure I didn’t like. Best-selling author Jerry B. Jenkins sets the story of Bible scholar Augustine Knox and his race to save a close friend (and priceless manuscripts from the past) against the story of Saul, living out his final days in a Roman prison. Both stories captured and held my interest because Jenkins made both ancient and modern characters, settings, and plots so real. I watched Dr. Knox’s anxiety mount as he waited for the next phone call or text. I smelled the foul odors of the prison and saw the light from Saul’s face illumine his surroundings. You don’t read I, Saul.  You live it——through each excruciating, tension-filled, fast-paced, wondrous word. I, Saul by Jerry B. Jenkins with James S. MacDonald (Worthy Publishing, 2013) releases today. Buy it. Live it. And look forward, as I am, to the release of the second volume, I, Paul, coming in 2014. Have you read other books by Jerry B. Jenkins or his coauthor, James S. MacDonald? Have you had positive or negative experiences with biblical fiction? Feel free to join the discussion. (FTC Disclaimer: I served on the prayer team for this novel and wrote to tell Jerry Jenkins (I’ve met and spoken with him but don’t know him well) how much I enjoyed the two chapters he sent as a thank-you. He responded by mailing me the ARC (Advance Reading Copy) of the book. I was not asked to post a review or a positive response.) Watch the book trailer for I, Saul. Find a local Christian bookstore. Find this book on Amazon, at Barnes & Noble, or at Christian Book...

Among my friends, I count many missionaries—those who go and tell in obedience to God’s calling. Some do short-term mission trips of a few weeks or months. Some serve for longer periods, giving their lives in His service. Some bear missionary as an official title, and others (whether in the States or overseas) live as missionaries not by job description, but by calling. And all of these are sent. For you, I offer today’s prayer: Lord of all, You are ever gracious to call us to follow You. Thank You for Your whispers. Thank You for Your nudges. And thank You for the compelling force of Your Spirit that says, “Come, follow Me.” Thank You for calling us to Yourself, and thank You that calling involves sending, too. Thank You that Your sending does not rest on qualifications, status, experience, or titles, but a relationship based on truth. Thank You for modeling a sent life. And thank You, too, for showing us that to be sent is also to die. Lord, I pray for the many deaths the sent ones encounter: death to selfish desires, death to personal gain, death to status, death to recognition, and death to control. Please, merciful Father, bring life from each death, love from each loss, and fruit from each failing. Use the weaknesses of each sent one to display your strength. I praise You for your sending. I honor You as you live in each sent one to fulfill the calling You have given and to pour out Your blessing when we, like Isaiah, bow before You in sent surrender. In Your powerful name I pray—Amen.  Are you among the sent? Do you pray for those who are? I’d love to receive your experience or prayer request in the comments below or via the contact form at the...

 “Traveling mercies” is a phrase many consider Christianese.  We  insert it into our prayers with as much understanding as the oft-repeated “hedge of protection.” No big deal. Or is it? Back in June, I visited my mom in her Ohio log home for two weeks of weed-pulling, crossword-puzzle-working, and the joys of the simple life. We talked about my dad, who passed away the previous June. He’d be proud of you, Mom. We laughed at our many similarities: You like cabbage but not coleslaw? So do I! On the Sunday I started my journey home, Mom and I attended church. Near the start of the service, Mom asked for prayer—“traveling mercies” as I drove back to Florida. No big deal. Or was it? After church, I loaded my suitcase and other assorted plunder from our cleaning and organizing sessions into my aging silver van. Gravel crunched under the tires as I waved goodbye. I took a more winding, eastern route than on the way up, when I’d visited my daughter in Tampa first. This time, the road would take me to another daughter and son-in-love in Columbia, South Carolina. But not that night. Less than a minute before I entered the East River Mountain Tunnel, drilled for more than a mile between West Virginia and Virginia, something shifted. Or I might say, “nothing shifted,” because my van suddenly seemed to have no gears. As I entered the tunnel, it slowed. And slowed. Wary of the line of cars behind me, I tried to accelerate. The engine revved, but something had shifted. Or, more accurately, nothing did. “Heal it, Jesus! Heal it, Jesus!” I all but chanted as I prayed my way through. Toward the end of the darkness, the gears kicked back in, and I sailed out of the tunnel praising God—but still concerned. Almost right away, a sign for a rest area beckoned me just as my vehicle’s scary  symptoms returned. I crept along for the mile-plus until I could pull off the highway and into what I saw as a safe place. A few phone calls, some frantic research on my husband’s part, and a two-hour wait later, a noisy tow truck chugged its way to a stop. The driver would take my van and me back into West Virginia to the mechanic’s shop. On a late-afternoon Sunday, we had no options for an immediate fix. My husband’s search had led to a shop with a dropbox where we could safely leave both van and keys. But how could I reach the motel he’d also chosen? “I’ll take you,” the tow truck driver volunteered. By this time, our conversation had revealed him as a media professor at...

Today, I’m teaching a continuing class for new writers, WannaBe Published, at the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference. But you can also find me over at the Christian Authors Network blog, posting an interview with author Davalynn Spencer. Check it out, and...

  Read. Write. Pray has gone missing this summer, mostly because I have, too. I spent two-plus weeks in June with my mom in Ohio. She lives in the land of little Internet, so it was easier not to write than to add blogging to my away-from-mom’s-to-get-online schedule. After a few days back in Florida, I left for training and three weeks in Peru, which wiped out the rest of June and most of July. I had hoped to blog from Peru, but between a crazy-busy mission trip and writing schedule along with intermittent Internet, you can guess what happened. So here I sit, the perpetual calendar in front of me still reading “June” when July is almost over. And I leave next Tuesday to serve and teach at the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer’s Conference. So much has happened. I have photos and (of course) thoughts  to share, and I’ll try to do that soon. But in the meantime, today’s prayer expresses much of what is in my heart. Father, You’ve allowed me to see and do so much this summer. I sound as though I’m lamenting my busy schedule when I mean to celebrate it. Thank You for all the opportunities You’ve given, not just to me but to so many who pray alongside me. All through this season, I’ve seen people who are turning to You. Some as they watch a drama and recognize Christ’s story within its layers. Some as they hear a testimony and relate its truth to their lives. Some as they fall under the conviction of Your Holy Spirit through a speaker’s message. Some as they sit alone to read Your Word. Some of these don’t know they’re turning to You, God. They’re not aware of Your still, small voice or the power of Your Spirit. But they’re turning to You all the same. Some have known You for years but have fallen away. They’re taken a few baby steps to turn back, but the road looks so long. And some know and walk with You but, like me, need to make a consistent choice to turn toward rather than away from You moment by moment, day by day God, today, draw Yourself near and speak to all of us in our need. Give us clear vision, Lord. Remind us You don’t stand at the end of the road or beyond the final turn. Instead, You’re running to meet us, to enfold us, to embrace us, to wrap us in the kind of hug only You can give. Whoever calls on You shall be saved. Whoever seeks You will find You.  And whoever turns to You will find You first, last, and forever...