Read this book.
Karen Spears Zacharias has written a very good book!
Of course, the title and cover immediately had my attention. I liked the table of contents and the creative way that she tagged each one of the major characters featured in her chapters.
She handles the issue of the prosperity gospel quite well. Not only does she raise important questions but she provides enough stories to document this problem again and again. As I read the chapters, I found myself thinking several times, “Oh yea, I forgot about him!” (as with Rev. Ike)
Other stories are inspiring and uplifting. She writes numerous stories of what God is doing through various men and women. I found these stories heart-warming, encouraging, and motivating.
Karen Spears Zacharias is a great storyteller! For example, in the final chapter, she paints such a clear picture of her and her sister driving around, looking for a Starbucks and then seeing a Rolls Royce. That began an interesting conversation and an adventure. The picture she paints in this story is so clear, I felt as if I could see each one of these people.
Would you like a free copy of her book? I will be giving away autographed copies to two people who make comments on this post. In fact, Karen Spears Zacharias has even agreed to call the winners to talk about the book, if you like.
A drawing will be held in my office in just a few days. Again, if you would like to enter, be sure to leave a comment.
Now here is a taste of this book:
After Daddy died, Mama paid $6,000 for a single-wide trailer, a 12 X 60. It was the first home our family owned. It had plywood walls so thin you could hear a roach grunt, and the only insulation from the outside elements was a feather pillow clutched down over your head during winter or a cooling rag filled with ice cubes for the sticky nights of a Georgia summer.
We moved that trailer five times in six years. Corner lots in the trailer parks were the most coveted because they usually had the biggest yards. Wealthy people lived in trailers with tip-outs. The very rich lived in double-wides. My friend Karin Paris and her brother lived in a double-wide with their mama. They really had it made — all that space for only three people. We had twice as many people living in a trailer half as big.
While I no longer live in a house balanced on cinder blocks the way I did in my youth, I recognize that almost all of my life’s truly meaningful moments took place in a trailer. I had my first kiss in a trailer. I smoked my first and last cigarette in a trailer. I asked Jesus into my heart on bended knee in a trailer. And I gave birth to my firstborn child on my mama’s bed in a trailer.
Given my druthers, I’d rather reside in a mansion carved from marble than a 12 X 60 crafted from aluminum siding. Still, I know without question that God’s love for me or his favor toward me is not manifested in whether I live at the end of a dirt road in a trailer or around an emerald bend in a gated community comprised of McMansions. Proof of God’s love is not found in the square footage of our homes or the number of cars our garage will hold. God’s love is not evident in our net worth at all. It’s found in the same place it has always been, at the foot of a rough-hewn and bloodied cross.