Thank You, Endoresers (Part 5)
If you've been following along, you know that for the past 5 weeks on Wednesday I've been posting the endorsements of my book Wednesdays Were Pretty Normal: A Boy, Cancer, and God. This is the final installment of the endorsements as the book officially releases tomorrow. Today I'm grateful to highlight the words of Russell Moore, JD Greear, Michael Card, and Jen Hatmaker.
Dr. Russell Moore is a man who has mentored me from a distance. Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is also an extremely gifted writer. There are lots of guys who can espouse theology, but Dr. Moore brings a beauty and grace to doing so that is seldom found. I'm so thankful that a writer of his caliber would write these words about my book:
Most parents fear, often from the very first breath of a baby, that they will someday find themselves in a cancer ward with their beloved child. At first, I resisted reading this book, afraid that it would be emotionally draining and gut-wrenching. I was wrong. This book will drive you to hope, joy, and trust in God's purposes, even if you find yourself where you always feared you might be.
Then there is JD Greear. JD is a pastor of The Summit Church, and is busy taking his congregation to a deeper and more full love and understanding of the gospel. And he's doing it all the time. He has a love and passion for the gospel of Jesus Christ, and has an extremely gifted way at articulating it. I'm grateful for his friendship and for his endorsement of the book (especially when he says I'm like a modern day Spurgeon. That's what his endorsement says, right??):
C.H. Spurgeon used to say that doubt was a foot poised to go forwards or backwards in faith. This book is an uncomfortably honest one that raises the foot. But throughout the story, Michael points back to a God that is deeper than the pain and doubts, and guides us beyond Christian platitudes to genuine rest in the arms of our heavenly Father. I look forward to recommending this book to people in our church who can't seem to gen an answer to the "why."
Jen Hatmaker is a good friend and a prophetic voice in the church today. She is always funny, challenging, and above all, real. Jen writes as a woman who is seeking the Lord in the real world, without pretense, and is more concerned about living according to God's Word than most anyone I know. I'm so very thankful for her endorsement:
I sat down to skim this and instead read every word start to finish. Reader, please listen to me: If you have ever suffered, struggled, doubted, wrestled with a God who allows hunger and disease and two-year-old boys to get cancer, if you have attempted to believe God in the midst of devastation or fear, please devour this book like the gift it is. Thank you, Michael, for not only honestly sharing your story with us but drawing us deeper into the true, rich, genuine love of Jesus who cries with us, stays by us, and redeems us.
Finally, there is Michael Card. I first met Mike over lunch at a little restaurant he frequents in Franklin, TN, and I'll admit – it was a little intimidating. I mean, it's Michael Card – musician, writer, and motorcycle writer. But that intimidation only lasted for about 4 seconds because who I met was a genuinely kind man. I can't imagine someone more down to earth and unimpressed with himself. It means so much to me that he took the time to read the book and write about it:
There are countless wildernesses; from depression to divorce, from brokenness to bankruptcy. For too many of us, cancer is our wilderness. Michael Kelley wandered that particular wilderness with his wife, Jana as they watched and waited as their son Joshua wrestle with leukemia. I am sorry for their suffering. I am sorry for the time they lost that they will never get back. But I am deeply thankful that they did not waste their sorrow and I am deeply thankful that Michael wrote this book.
Tomorrow is the release date, friends. You can get your copy of Wednesdays Were Pretty Normal on sale at Amazon here.
