Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Who Would You Tell?

This blog entry has nothing to do with art or art theft or even books, but it's something on my heart, and it does involve using words. I'd really like to hear your answers.

Challenge Question: If you could tell anyone in the world about the love of God and the salvation offered through Jesus Christ, and you were guaranteed five minutes of their undivided attention, who would you tell and why?

Bonus Challenge: Give us a sample of the words that are in your heart for them.

Mine would be Osama bin Laden. A change of heart in him would rock militant Islam to its core.

I want to tell him that I understand he believes his cause is from God, but that the true test of what comes from God is in its fruit. If grace and mercy are extended, if love, joy, and peace flow, if holy living springs from love toward God, and if hearts are transformed without force or manipulation, then God is in it.

I'd also like to assure him that forgiveness for absolutely anything is a free gift to the repentant heart because Someone has already paid the price for the sins of the whole world. However, without putting faith in that One--Jesus Christ--there is no salvation. Anyone is eligible, but everyone must choose.

So now that I've shared, who is on your heart? And it doesn't have to be anyone famous or important (by the world's standard), just whoever first popped to mind when you read my initial question.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Who Won WHO? and Whodunnit?

Thanks oodles to Roseanna White, our games-mistress, for featuring Reluctant Runaway in the debut volume of the WHO? game. I had lots of fun playing and hope others did, too.

Volume One of the WHO? game reached its conclusion last Friday with a clear winner. Congratulations to Becca from California! She named all five keywords from the various blogs and correctly "caught" the thief who stole the book. Becca will receive a signed copy of Reluctant Runaway, latest release in the To Catch a Thief series.

Here's the culprit's confession:

It was. . . Tiffany by Trish Perry

Okay, just hear me out here. Contrary to how things appear, I am not perfect. I make mistakes, just like an average person does. I said I wanted to develop a little culture, and I meant it. I want to be able to discuss . . . stuff. That’s why I came to the museum, and now I can talk about how messed up modern art looks. And thanks to the time we’ve been stuck in the Native American exhibit with Grandfather there, I know more about the Pince-nez Indians than I ever planned to. Nez Perce, I mean, thank you, Gracie so very much for correcting me.

Sigh. How Jessica got Miss Gracie Conspiracy-Theory and me confused from behind, I’ll never know. Sure, we both have auburn hair, but I am clearly the more relaxed of the two of us—I think I would have known Gracie was connected to the military even if she hadn’t mentioned it. Anyway, I’m wearing black, and Gracie’s in white, and she didn’t leave Grandfather’s side long enough to pull off any theft.

Ew. Theft. Sounds awful.

Look, it’s just that the book looked special. It looked like something maybe I could read and be impressive with. And if it’s a book I could get at the library or a book store, it probably wouldn’t be on display in a museum, is what I figured. That’s the only kind of book I could be certain Ren and Kara wouldn’t have read. I just wanted to know something they didn’t. I would have brought it back when I was done; why would I want to keep a book I’ve already read?

It wasn’t hard finding a man willing to hold the book for me so I could run back and tell Quinn I was leaving. I mean, look at me! Me, man, willing? Those three words just fit together in so many sentences. And I would have been fine if Jessica had minded her own business, instead of turning down my generous offer of help with her appearance; I’d be willing to bet that girl’s had a case of the munchies from time to time, if you catch my drift. If I hadn’t pulled out one of my cards to give her in the first place, I wouldn’t have dropped one at the scene of the dirty deed for Gracie to find and turn over to Max.

And that Max! Ears like an Australian Bandicoot, for Pete’s sake. So my stiletto’s click a little on these marble floors. I was practically on tiptoe when I rushed over to ask that guy to hold the book for me. What is it with these people, studying my every move? My every sound?

But that Marina was the last straw. She found one of my hairs near the empty display case? What is she, a bloodhound? Why, oh why did I bother to run a comb through my luxurious locks before dashing off to hand the book to that guy? It’s not like I needed to bother. But I’ve seen enough CSI shows to know that last piece of evidence is going to nail me.

So, listen, Quinn. Be a sweetie. Bring up the steel walls, let us out, and I can have that stupid book back in place in no time. But let’s make it snappy. I can still make my manicure appointment, and I don’t want that guy out there getting any ideas about taking the book out of the museum. Not that he’s likely to leave without me, but let’s not take any chances. Then you and I can get together later and have a little laugh about this whole silly episode. What time do you get off work, anyway?
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Volume Two of the WHO? game is coming right up. So keep your eyes peeled for suspicious characters!