Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity [NOOK Book]

Overview

Interrupted follows the author’s messy journey through life and church and into living on mission. Snatching Jen from the grip of her consumer life, God began asking her questions like, “What is really the point of My Church? What have I really asked of you?” She was far too busy doing church than being church, even as a pastor’s wife, an author of five Christian books, and a committed believer for 26 years. She discovered she had missed the ...
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Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity

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Overview

Interrupted follows the author’s messy journey through life and church and into living on mission. Snatching Jen from the grip of her consumer life, God began asking her questions like, “What is really the point of My Church? What have I really asked of you?” She was far too busy doing church than being church, even as a pastor’s wife, an author of five Christian books, and a committed believer for 26 years. She discovered she had missed the point.

Christ brought Jen and her family to a place of living on mission by asking them tough questions, leading them through Scripture, and walking together with them on the path. Interrupted invites readers to take a similar journey.
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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

For a quarter century, Jen Hatmaker was a faithful Christian, a devoted pastor's wife, a committed Bible teacher, and a writer of books true to her beliefs. And then one day, she woke up and realized that "doing church" is not the same as being true to God's church. In Interrupted, the author, blogger, and WorldVision leader writes about what happened when she truly returned to His fold.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781631463549
  • Publisher: The Navigators
  • Publication date: 7/1/2014
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Sales rank: 22,434
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

Jen Hatmaker and her family live in Austin, Texas, where the city motto is "Keep Austin Weird." She and her husband planted Austin New Church in an economically and ethnically diverse, socially unique, urban area of the city in 2008. Together with her husband and their five children, they all keep Austin weird and seek to glorify God as they do.
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Read an Excerpt

Interrupted

When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity


By Jen Hatmaker

Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2014 Jennifer Hatmaker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-63146-353-2



CHAPTER 1

BLACK AND WHITE, NO?


No matter how many Februaries my son Gavin navigates in public school with the monthlong focus on Black History, he cannot grasp the concept of racism. His only exposure to the world has been his multiracial school of many colors. No amount of instruction has made any sense to him. In first grade, he came home chattering about "Martin," and deep discussion ensued. When I asked why Martin was so mistreated, Gavin could offer absolutely no explanation. So when I gently suggested that it was because of his black skin color, Gavin rolled his eyes and retorted, "Jeez, Mom. He wasn't black. He was brown." Indeed.

In February of second grade, he came home with fresh indignation. "Mom, thank goodness we didn't live in Martin's time, because me and Dad couldn't be together!" Recalling the previous year's confusion, I asked why they'd be forced apart. "Duh! Because Dad has black hair!" The term black obviously applied to any old body part; the civil-rights crisis seemed fairly broad in his estimation.

When he was in fourth grade—and surely the world had ruined his innocence on this matter—I anticipated a new understanding come February. But instead, I received this weird statement: "Whew! Good thing we live in the new millennium, Mom. If we lived back in the olden days, me and Noah"—his very white, blond, blue-eyed friend up the street—"would've had to go to different schools!" I asked why he thought they'd be separated, and his answer was, "I have no idea, but for some reason no one got to go to school together back then. They just split everybody up! It was a crazy time, Mom."

Half of me is thrilled my son is so utterly naive about racism, and the other half is wondering why he cannot grasp the simple concept of skin color after six years of instruction on the issue. (This lingering confusion comes from a boy who held the E for "equal rights" on the Martin Luther King Jr. acrostic during the class poem. Touché.) Then it occurs to me that he hears these terms and studies historical events without discerning the underlying cause because he has no personal exposure to the central issue.

The facts have nothing to stick to because he misunderstands the main point.

Likewise, I still can't believe it, but I managed to attend church three times a week as a fetus, fulfill the pastor's kid role, observe every form and function of church, get swallowed whole by Christian subculture, graduate from a Baptist college, wed a pastor, serve in full-time ministry for twelve years, become a Christian author and speaker—and misunderstand the main point. I am still stunned by my capacity to spin Scripture, see what I wanted, ignore what I didn't, and use the Word to defend my life rather than define it. I now reread treasured, even memorized Scriptures and realize I never understood what they really meant. I'm a lot like my son who interpreted the civil-rights movement as a spitting contest over black hair and arbitrary school-attendance policies.

Let's back up a bit. Until two years ago, my life resembled the basic pursuit of the American dream; it just occurred in a church setting. I subscribed to the commonly agreed-upon life route: Go to college, get married, have kids, make good money, progress up the neighborhood ladder, amass beautiful things, keep our life safe and protected, raise smart children who will be wildly successful and never move back home, serve at church more than makes sense, and eventually retire in comfort. This kept me relatively safe and prosperous, just the way I liked it. Outside of tithing, we spent our money how we wanted (on ourselves), and I could live an "obedient life" without sacrificing the lifestyle I craved.

And to enlarge the church portion of that philosophy, I basically considered the church campus—Sunday morning the entry level—as the location and means to transform the average seeker into a believer. In other words, if you need something spiritual, some help, guidance, understanding, then come to us. We'll build it, and you come. Once you do, we will pour out our lives attempting to disciple you and build spiritual health into your life. My husband, Brandon, and I spent every waking moment with Christians.

We were servants of the weekend attendees.

That point of view alone kept us so busy doing church. There was a season when Brandon was gone five nights a week, leading various Bible studies and programs by his own design. We assumed this was part and parcel of the sacrifices of ministry. Still wobbly on the concept of grace, preferring to earn God's favor, we figured the pace alone meant we were on the right track. While we sincerely believe it takes all kinds, it never occurred to us to rethink, reimagine, or reconsider how we did this Christian life thing. I would have answered confidently that, yes, I was handling the gospel obediently, and I planned on continuing in this manner pretty much forever.

Looking backward, I can better identify the tension that lurked at the edges. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was ... something off for me. That something was fueled by several particulars challenging my concept of success, beginning with the nagging sensation that Brandon and I were far too consumed with worthless things. We spent an unhealthy amount of time dreaming about our next house, our next financial increase, our next level of living. Next. We were the opposite of counterculture. We were a mirror image of culture, just a churched-up version. I was vaguely aware of this, but having invited exactly zero people into our lives who might challenge this position, I easily dismissed the thought.

And yet.

There were other question marks. Like why wouldn't people commit to our church programs, despite the endless work poured into them? And why did the same people end up doing all that work? Why did 70 percent of the initial program enthusiasts drop out by the end? Why did so many leave, claiming they needed more, when we were all working eighty hours a week to meet their needs? Why couldn't I recall the last person I led to Christ? Why did I spend all my time blessing blessed people who should be on the giving side of the equation by now?

Why did I feel so dry?

CHAPTER 2

READER, BEWARE: LIFE-ALTERING PRAYER AHEAD


Why did I feel so dry?

This question became the catalyst for revolution. I distinctly remember it: It was January of 2007, and I'd had two months of rest from writing and traveling. It was a sabbatical of sorts, and I was stunned to discover that I felt neither rested nor restored. I'd expected to emerge from that short season with all cylinders firing again. I had anticipated the break for months, with no events or writing deadlines in sight. Certainly it should have been the remedy to cure me of exhaustion and apathy.

I was in church that Sunday, singing a popular worship song: "My heart is dry, but still I'm singing." And I realized that was it. My heart was dry. Like dry as the desert. I felt spiritually malnourished, as if I was parched. Was I just still tired? Did I mismanage my sabbatical? How did I blow this gift of rest? What more could I possibly want from this life? My existence was charmed by any standard. What was wrong with me?

I later read a perfect summation of my angst by Shane Claiborne in The Irresistible Revolution:

I developed a spiritual form of [bulimia] where I did my devotions, read all the new Christian books and saw the Christian movies, and then vomited information up to friends, small groups, and pastors. But it never had the chance to digest. I had gorged myself on all the products of the Christian industrial complex but was spiritually starving to death. I was marked by an overconsumption but malnourished spiritually, suffocated by Christianity but thirsty for God.


That was it, though I couldn't articulate it at the time since I was unable to determine the cause. I only knew the consequential hunger.

Let me paint the picture later that morning: I was driving home with my three kids. It was not a holy moment. It was not some silent, sacred encounter with the Spirit. There was no fasting or meditation happening. As my kids were squawking in the back, I prayed a one-line prayer simply because my Christian labor had failed me and I had no idea what else to do (and I strongly advise against this prayer unless you are quite ready for God to take you seriously and wreck your life): "God, raise up in me a holy passion."

That was it. Nothing before or after it, except me immediately telling my sons that if they didn't stop fighting, I was giving their Christmas presents away to poor kids. (And before we move on, this is just how I parent, okay? My kids get plenty of warm, fuzzy love from me, but admittedly, last week after my fifth grader opened up a fresh, sassy mouth to me, I told him to get a shovel, go to the backyard, and dig his own grave. In my house, back talk is grounds for homicide. He got the point.)

Let me tell you what I intended by that prayer: I meant, "God, give me happy feelings." I was not seriously asking for intervention that would require anything of me. Hardly. "Holy passion" meant "pull me out of this funk with Your magic happiness wand." Was that too much to ask? Can't a girl get some cheery feelings about her wonderful, prosperous life? Evidently not. Because what happened after that prayer was so monumental, so life altering, nothing will ever be the same.

It started small that very week. Like a little flicker deep within somewhere. A tiny flame that sparked and caught but had not yet engulfed my life or done any significant damage to the worldview I had constructed. Not surprisingly, it began in the Word, where God and I have always done our most serious business. He turned my undiagnosed tension into a full-blown spiritual crisis.

CHAPTER 3

HOLY PASSION MEETS REMEDIAL SHEPHERD


I can't remember exactly what drew me there, but I recall being pulled to John 21, when Peter declared his love for Jesus three times after His resurrection. You should know I've studied that passage approximately forty thousand times. I've done plenty of teaching on it too, raking old Peter across the coals real good.

In fact, I remember saying, "Peter completely missed the point here." Hello, irony.

So for that weird, Holy Spirit reason that we find ourselves in a certain passage or a certain job or a certain relationship, I ended up in John 21 that January. Although I'd all but forgotten my prayer, when I turned to that chapter, an eerie sense of the Spirit fell on me like a heavy blanket. The room gave up its oxygen, and I couldn't breathe right. Suddenly, there was me, the Word, and the Spirit—and nothing else existed. Before I read one word, I knew something important was happening. It became a sacred encounter, activated by a decidedly unsacred prayer earlier that week.

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?" (verse 15)


And like it was supernaturally edited before my eyes, the verse read, "Jen, do you truly love Me more than anything?" I don't quite know how to explain Jesus' presence—intense and terrifying and gentle at the exact same time. It was an indescribable appointment.

I do, however, know how to describe my reaction to the question: shock. "Seriously? Do I really love You? Are You serious, Jesus?"

To be honest, I felt a little insulted. Kind of injured. Only because I really love Jesus.

Usually He would call me on some nasty trait. (Like, oh—I don't know, let me just pick something hypothetically—being stubborn as a donkey and digging my heels in and dying on every hill even when there is no logical or decent reason to care about the issue, much less be willing to die for it. Hypothetically.) These disciplinary moments I had coming. There was no shock involved. (What?! Rolling my eyes at people isn't Christlike, Lord? I had no idea.) I can typically spot the medicine I'm about to get a mile away. In other words, I'm aware of my "troublesome areas," as my husband calls them.

But to have my love for Jesus called into question was surprising, and not in the good way. I am a big bag of trouble, no question, but I sincerely adore Jesus. I told Him as much too. With no small amount of indignation, I touted my affection for Him with all the self-righteous, sanctimonious ire I could muster. It was a compelling presentation, Oscar worthy, but it did nothing to end this train wreck of a conversation, because the next statement was worse:

"Yes, Lord," [Peter] said, "you know that I love you." [Which was exactly what I said but with more melodrama.]

Jesus said, "Feed my lambs." (John 21:15)


"Jen, feed My lambs." What??? I started to wonder if Jesus was just messing with me. Because I was so busy feeding the lambs, I wished some would wander off into greener pastures so there would be fewer in my flock to keep up with. If that sounds mean, sorry. But I tended some dysfunctional sheep who were prone to wander and play with wolves. They were a full-time job, and I was a mediocre shepherd at best. But Lord knows I tried hard. Or I thought He knew.

"I do feed Your lambs! I feed them spiritually. I herd them into Bible studies and unleash a campaign of harassment when they wander. I counsel and pray and cry and struggle with them. Everyone I know has my number and evidently isn't afraid to use it. I don't know if You've noticed, Jesus, but I write Christian books You told me to write! I travel and feed sheep all over the nation! What the heck is this?" (I was obviously feeling entitled to a little gratitude. Please bear my arrogance for a few more paragraphs, because I was about to get schooled.)

Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you love me?" (John 21:16)

"Jen, do you really love Me in a true way?" This was the moment the back of my throat tightened, and I could feel tears starting to burn. The thing is, I usually had a decent concept of how to answer Jesus:

"Will you let Me work on that sharp tongue of yours?"

"A little."

"Will you write a book for Me?" (He was artfully vague on how many.)

"Yes."

"Will you stop obsessing over predestination? I told you I'm fair."

"I'll try."

But this? "Do you really love Me?" I was at a complete loss. Because my drift is to slip into self-condemnation and doubt (I am a recovering legalist, and old habits die hard), I started to think perhaps I didn't love Jesus at all. Maybe He was exposing the worst secret I'd ever kept from myself. Was I just in this Christian thing for notoriety? For selfish reasons? For money? Oh, wait. That couldn't possibly be it. But what if the affection I felt for Christ was fake or forced?


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Interrupted by Jen Hatmaker. Copyright © 2014 Jennifer Hatmaker. Excerpted by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

Foreword by Brandon Hatmaker, xi,
Acknowledgments, xv,
Introduction to the Updated Edition, xvii,
Brandons Take, xxv,
Introduction, xxix,
Austin New Church, xxxiii,
Phase One: Breaking Down,
Black and White, No?, 3,
Reader, Beware: Life-Altering Prayer Ahead, 9,
Holy Passion Meets Remedial Shepherd, 13,
James, Jesus, Amos, and Them, 19,
Warning: The Problems Are Bad, 23,
"Name It and Claim It" (and I'll Shame It), 29,
Giving the Good Stats Some Play, 33,
Brandon's Take, 39,
Phase Two: The Horror of Actually Changing,
The Trouble with Bananas, 45,
Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks, 49,
Desiring, Doing, and Remembering, 53,
Tough Crowd, 59,
Brandons Take, 65,
Becoming a Lowlife, 69,
"Get Off Your High Horse"—Jesus, 75,
Great, 79,
Phase Three: Getting Out There,
Here Pretending to Be There, 87,
Don't Know If We're Coming or Going, 91,
Justice for Jesus, 97,
A Word about Farm Animals, 101,
Last but Not Least, 105,
Poor People, 111,
Cold Weather, Crazy-Looking Messenger, and Resurrection Sunday, 115,
Brandon's Take, 121,
New, 125,
Phase Four: Finding Your Tribe,
Off the Platform, 133,
On a Need-to-Know Basis, 139,
Free, 145,
Isaiah, Alan, and Me, 151,
Ignorance Is Not Bliss, 157,
A Modern Mess, 163,
"Turn and Face the Strange Ch-Ch-Changes", 167,
Mission Possible, 173,
Share, Provide, Clothe, Shine, 179,
Brandons Take, 185,
Phase Five: Sent,
Out of Kindergarten, 191,
Mission ... al?, 197,
Offering a Tangible Kingdom, 203,
Right to Remain Silent, 209,
Breaking the Code, 215,
Changelings, 221,
Brandon's Take, 227,
In the City, For the City, 231,
Notes, 241,
About the Author, 249,

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Sort by: Showing all of 4 Customer Reviews
  • Posted August 31, 2014

    This book has been recommended to me for some time and I finally

    This book has been recommended to me for some time and I finally took the plunge. The timing could not have been better; as a relatively recent church planter there are so many things I related to and loved about this book. It was super validating and encouraging, and I literally read it in one day. I can't wait to have my husband read it (additionally, our 12 year old daughter ripped it out of my hands as soon as I was finished; after reading 7 and watching "My Big Family Reno" she is a fan of all things Hatmaker) - and although it's pretty deep for 12, I'm eager to hear what she thinks.


    "Interrupted" is the dissection of how God wrecked Jen's life in the best way possible, opening her eyes/heart/daily practices etc. to the journey He had for her - one that was rich and incomparable. By the way, if you are avoiding this book because you think it will be convicting, hey, that's all the more reason why you should do it anyways. :) If you've read 7 this is a must (I wish I had read this prior to reading 7 but hey, truth is truth no matter the order. Also, if you're planning to read 7, wait just a minute and read this first - it will be a richer experience.)



    Challenging, thought provoking, interesting; with her trademark humor and transparency throughout, this is an important read for anyone. I think Christ followers who are tired of the status quo or are convinced there is "something more" will be especially pleased. The overwhelming message I received from reading "Interrupted" is this: what God has specifically planned for you and I is certainly better than we can imagine, and when we are operating daily by being obedient to WHATEVER THAT IS, our lives and the lives of those around us will simply be transformed.

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  • Posted August 18, 2014

    more from this reviewer

    I love Jen Hatmaker, but her books need to come with warning lab

    I love Jen Hatmaker, but her books need to come with warning labels: "Warning--reading this book may be hazardous to your comfortable little life!" Seriously, Jen's tagline could easily be "Flip My Faith". (If she uses that, I get credit for it!)


    "Interrupted" is revised and expanded, with new material, which makes me wonder what the previous version would have done to my life. As it is, I have a lot to chew on. See, I'm one of those believers who feel like I'm missing something. I attend church, read my Bible, pray, and share my faith.


    But I still feel like I'm missing something. "Interrupted" tackles today's hot topic of serving the least of these, but Jen has a unique take on the 'movement' if you will. It's fresh, it's packed with humor, loaded with missteps and totally honest.


    In other words, it's livable. It's doable. It's practical. It's Gospel inclusive. It's dangerous. And Jen says if you only read one of her books, make it "Interrupted". I agree.


    Unless you're comfy and cozy in your faith. In that case, while you NEED to read "Interrupted", if you do, you'll end up feeling....well....interrupted!


    My thanks to my friends at Tyndale House Publishing for my complimentary copy in exchange for an honest review. Make "Interrupted" a part of your 'to be read' shelf. Right up there with "Crazy Love" and "Radical".

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  • Posted August 11, 2014

    This book was definitely an encouragement to me.  It didn't teac

    This book was definitely an encouragement to me.  It didn't teach me anything new, but it was inspiring to see there are people all over the world who want what I do: to love and serve Jesus with all their hearts, and to show the world (or the grocery store clerk, or the lady at the park with her kids, or whoever happens to be wherever you find yourself) who He is by living each and every moment for Him.  I think this book would be an especially life-changing read for anyone who takes their Christianity for granted, who's just going to church for what they can get out of it, or for adults who grew up in the church as kids.  As someone who got saved and became on fire for Jesus as an adult in her early 20's at a church that preaches this kind of message often, I guess I felt like God had already shown me these things, but the message of the book definitely resonated with me and encouraged me!  It's always good to be reminded or where our hearts should be.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 4, 2014

    There is nothing I more enjoy than reading a book that forces me

    There is nothing I more enjoy than reading a book that forces me to step outside of myself and re-evaluate what I think (and feel) about certain ideas. I love reading books that strengthen my faith
    while challenging me to take the next step on my journey with Christ, and propel me into real action. Yes, the Bible alone is certainly efficient enough to spur such change, and only with the guidance of the Holy Spirit. However, he did place prophets (and prophetesses) in our path to give us a good kick in the pants when we seem to completely miss the point or disobey in general. "Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity" by Jen Hatmaker was that book for me. She was the prophetess the Holy Spirit sent to give me a swift kick in the pants, AND to confirm all the wrestling/longings/desires I had been trying to grapple with as a follower of Jesus as well.

    This is one book I do not want to spoil for you by giving you too much "play-by-play" action, so let me just hit on a few things. First, the title alone should pique one's curiosity. Some of you may be in the camp that thinks, "I've never been comfortable," while the other group may be in the category that thinks, "there is not a thing wrong with my being comfortable." I fall into a third group, and one I believe Jen is speaking directly to (though she really is speaking to all 3). My camp is the one that says, "There has GOT to be more to this Jesus walk than this. Why do we look so rich while the communities around us are struggling so much? Why does 'church' look so different in America than just about anywhere else? Am I obeying Jesus??"

    I am not comfortable, and I haven't been for a long, long time. In all transparency, that has led to me wandering a bit through the desert--which just ended up being time spent in different denominations trying to figure this all out. So, my second point would be that this book brings us to a point in which we have to honestly answer that tension-causing question, "Is this really it?? Are we doing what we were called to do?" Again, Jen helps us to see, through her prophetic reasoning, that we really might be missing the big picture. You know, the one in which Jesus really did say to us (and in which he meant so in the most literal sense): Feed my sheep, feed the poor, take care of the orphans, and widows, love your enemy, pray for your enemy, love your neighbor as much as you love yourself, visit me in prison, stand up for the oppressed, etc. He didn't just say those things because they sounded pretty nice. He died for them. He meant it, and he meant for us to listen and do. One verse Jen points out in Ezekiel has penetrated my heart so deeply. It comes from Ezekiel 16:49: "Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom; She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy." If this doesn't sound like the American/Western church in general, I don't know what does.

    Another reference Jen makes to herself is that of a "recovering legalist". Oh, boy. This is so true of me, and while I struggle as she does in the area of always trying to get the law of the letter just right (and in my OCD way of thinking, I mean that . . . to the very last jot and tittle), I so often miss the application part. You know, the part where Jesus tells you to do it, and instead of trying to exegete the death out of that passage, "just to be sure you don't get it wrong," you JUST DO WHAT IT SAYS. Novel concept, I know. And this is my third point: Jen shares the struggle, but she also shares the beauty of the discovery (and might I add simplicity) of simply obeying Jesus command to "Go". Go to the least among you and show them Jesus. Don't wait on them to come to your pretty church building, with your pretty music, and pretty programs. Take Jesus TO them. We are literally surrounded by sick, hungry, dying, unloved, uncared for human beings that just need Jesus--not our stipulations and man-made rules.

    This is the reason, I believe (and Jen speaks of), that many of us followers of Jesus feel less than satisfied "doing church" each week. We are ignoring the most basic commands Jesus himself gave us. The consequences are grave. People are dying because we are the sisters in Sodom. We are those who were overfed while the rest of the world is starving to death, arrogant about our model of church and how "right" we have it, because after all! Look how blessed we are! We are those who are unconcerned--we can't see it, so it isn't real to us. But it is real. And the most basic?? Are we helping the poor and needy? Are we giving up of ourselves for someone else?

    Many of us cut our teeth on Jen with her work, "7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess". If you felt more than convicted by it, you really MUST read Interrupted. I hope it speaks to your heart and settles some of that dust in your mind. If you aren't sure about the whole poverty thing, you need to read it simply to be informed. The statistics alone were enough to bring me to my knees. And I mean that. I cried. A lot. And that was just the first few chapters.

    I feel very passionate about this book being the catalyst needed to kick you in the pants, get you diving back into your Bible, and making a big difference in your communities--both locally and globally. It may help you, as it did me, by simply putting out there that many of us feel a real disconnect between the church and God's Word.

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