Free Copies of Love and War

Let's change the world.

I mean it. Let's change the world.

This thing we do over here called Ransomed Heart has basically one mission: rescue hearts, and thus rescue lives, and thus bring the Kingdom of God, and thus change the world. Okay, maybe thats four things, but its really all one.

And the way it happens is one life to another. We don't have a big TV show or huge ministry platform or whatever. This beautiful movement happens by word of mouth. Here's where you come in.

We wrote this wonderful book called Love and War, and the folks who are reading it are loving it. But very few people know about the book for some weird reason. We need help to get the word out.

So, we're going to give a free copy of Love and War to our friends like you who blog, asking that you blog about the book. That way, we spread the word in the best way possible, by one heart to another. By word of mouth.

If you have a blog, and you'd be willing to write about Love and War, we'd love to send you a copy. If you already have a copy, but want to blog about it, we'll send you another copy anyways, and you can pass it along to a friend. All you need to do is click here: https://www.ransomedheart.com/blogsignup.aspx

We'd also love it if you'd write a review on Amazon as part of this effort to get the word out http://snipurl.com/lwamazon

By spreading the word, you rescue hearts, lives, marriages...you change the world. How cool is that?

The Everlasting Stream

A few years ago Morgan gave the guys on the team a book called The Everlasting Stream. It sounds like a devotional, but its not, not even a Christian book. Its a book about a big city guy whose life is utterly transformed by spending time with his rural father-in-law, hunting rabbits in Kentucky with the men he has been hanging out with for more than fifty years. Its become an in-house favorite here because its description of masculine culture is so good, and so dang funny.

Anyhow, last weekend I dropped into a version of the everlasting stream.

I was out in Grand Junction, picking up an old Volkswagen Thing that Luke and I are going to fix up as his first car. I found the Thing on Craig's list, and was looking forward to meeting the guy selling it. He turned out to be about 70 years old, living on the rural side of town, his 5 acres covered in old tractors and stuff. As we sat inside his small farmhouse, drinking day old coffee, I found myself really enjoying this old man. Soon his two buddies showed up, and I got the idea that this is what they do every Saturday morning. Picture guys in their 70's, sitting around chain smoking Pall Malls in a single-wide. Dean is the character selling the car. Billy is his cousin. Kirby is a bit younger; I get the impression he's sort of looking after these old guys. Its right out of Second Hand Lions.

Billy (to me) "You ain't drinkin his coffee are you? That's yesterday's coffee!"

I look at Dean, and he sort of smiles and shrugs, "Yep...it is."

This stuff is inky black and strong; it would strip grease off an engine. He has a massive urn of it. I get the impression its what they drink all day long.

"So Dean," I ask, "what do you do with all these parts?" 

"O, I sorta fix tractors up and sell 'em."

I already love this man. 70 something and his hobby is fixing tractors and selling them?! I also feel like a weenie. I hope they don't ask me what I do for a living. "O...I help people connect with their inner child."

Billy "Hey, I brought you some donuts." He puts a greasy brown lunch bag on the counter. I sense this is all ritual; it has happened just this way for years.

Dean "Don't look like you brought many."

Billy "There's a half a dozen in there."

Dean looks at the small lunchsack "Must be mighty small donuts."

Billy "Their CAKE donuts, you twit."

On and on it goes. I thought I'd just grab the car and blast the 5 hour drive home, but I am enjoying these old characters so much I have to linger. Billy still uses Dippity Do in his grey hair; it is swept back in a nice wave. He too is chain smoking Pall Malls. But he is also using an asthma inhaler. So, once in awhile he'll take a shot of the inhaler, put it back in his pocket, and take a deep draw on his cigarette. This whole scene is out of a movie.

Kirby "You know why he has me come over, don't ya?" Looking at Dean, he continues, "cause he don't read or write. I gotta help him know where to sign the title and count the money."

I have never to my knowledge met anyone who doesnt read or write. Dean just sort of shrugs his shoulders. 

Billy "Hey, I brought you some hydraulic fluid." I'm thinking, when is the last time I heard somebody say, "I brought you some hydraulic fluid " in a conversation, like you'd say, "Hey, I brought you a Starbucks." I am loving this. Then Kirby gets upset

"What?!! I brought you some hydraulic fluid! What are you doin with all this fluid?"

Dean sorta shrugs his shoulders again and sheepishly says, "My tractors leak a bit."

I'm crackin up. This is the culture I spent summers in as a boy, sitting around old farm house kitchens with grey haired men from another time, another world. A world that is very attractive. They are sort of awkward in their affection for one another. But then we step outside and need to get the car out of the old barn and hook it up to a tow bar on my truck and suddenly these men are spry and nimble; they handle tools with grace and ease. They jerry-rig the whole thing so fast I just stand back and enjoy.

It is a beautiful world of men that more of us could use in our own lives.

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

by Ezra Pound

HA’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O’ ships and the open sea.
When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man	5
His smile was good to see,
“First let these go!” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Or I’ll see ye damned,” says he.
Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears
And the scorn of his laugh rang free,	10
“Why took ye not me when I walked about
Alone in the town?” says he.
Oh we drank his “Hale” in the good red wine
When we last made company.
No capon priest was the Goodly Fere,	15
But a man o’ men was he.
I ha’ seen him drive a hundred men
Wi’ a bundle o’ cords swung free,
That they took the high and holy house
For their pawn and treasury.	20
They’ll no’ get him a’ in a book, I think,
Though they write it cunningly;
No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere
But aye loved the open sea.
If they think they ha’ snared our Goodly Fere	25
They are fools to the last degree.
“I’ll go to the feast,” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Though I go to the gallows tree.”
“Ye ha’ seen me heal the lame and blind,
And wake the dead,” says he.	30
“Ye shall see one thing to master all:
’Tis how a brave man dies on the tree.”
A son of God was the Goodly Fere
That bade us his brothers be.
I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men.	35
I have seen him upon the tree.
He cried no cry when they drave the nails
And the blood gushed hot and free.
The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue,
But never a cry cried he.	40
I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men
On the hills o’ Galilee.
They whined as he walked out calm between,
Wi’ his eyes like the gray o’ the sea.
Like the sea that brooks no voyaging,	45
With the winds unleashed and free,
Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret
Wi’ twey words spoke suddently.
A master of men was the Goodly Fere,
A mate of the wind and sea.	50
If they think they ha’ slain our Goodly Fere
They are fools eternally.