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Kenneth G. Phifer knew that for many of us prayer gets crowded out to the edges of life. But in A Book of Common Prayer, Phifer has offered prayers that speak to people's ordinary, daily needs. Here you will find prayers that are personal, immediate, and touched with grace. In free verse, Kenneth wrote spirited petitions and confession-he wrote of feeling impatient, bored, irritable, discouraged.He wrote about needing a miracle, needing to feel whole, and needing to start over. His prayers are for individual use and for public worship. They include special "Prayers for Uncommon Days," among which are a Sunday in Advent and a Day of Public Calamity.Kenneth Phifer was senior minister of the St. Charles Avenue Presbyterian Church in New Orleans for almost twenty years. Prior to that he was Professor of Homiletics at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Kentucky. During his long ministry he served churches in Tennessee, South Carolina, and Virginia and was author of numerous books.

Humor, the Horror, and the Heart of the Badge is a must read for all who are interested in gaining an inside look at the world, the life, and the mind of cops. Virtually anyone will find this memoir engaging, sometimes shocking and sad, and always informative. It provides persons who are not in the law enforcement profession a glance into the everyday realities of those whose calling is to be a police officer. Those who belong to the profession, including myself with over forty-two years behind the badge, will discover that Chris Schultz's story triggers a myriad of vivid memories that are happy and even funny, yet at other times horrific and tearful. Chris opens himself up to you, the reader, as he paints the mural of his life as a cop. He gives you glimpses into events that made national news, and you will meet officers he knew who were at their epicenter. Through it all he shows that cops are people like everyone else, yet with a high calling that assumes far higher risk than many occupations.~From the ForewordC. C. Ibsen ~From the ForewordC. C. Ibsen

"Only a writer as sensitive to the power of words could give us a book like this that touches the heart. Priest of the word, Charles Davidson bids us to 'Lift up your hearts.' Read the book. It will lift you." -Ross Mackenzie, Historian Emeritus, Department of Religion, Chautauqua Institute, NY"It is one thing to know that our lived worlds are constructed by narratives, as I know. It is quite another matter to have a fund of good stories, know how to tell them, and evoke our interest via image, character, memory, and quick riffs that surprised. This is what Charles Davidson does in singular compelling ways. He invites us into a world-the world of his imaginative making-that is richly peopled by great poets, struggling animals, caring folk, indolent neighbors, and a whole company of saints. Religion (and therefore biblical texts) comes easily in this world as a part of normal thinking. This wondrous collection bears witness to those who do not want to miss out on the gifts that are stunningly given among us. These stories, in the skilled artistry of Davidson, keep giving us gifts in illuminating, transformative, and summoning ways." -Walter Brueggemann, Columbia Theological Seminary

Both the authors of this book, Mike and Rena Mortenson, who have been married for over 40 years, are on the autistic spectrum and although they are considered high functioning, their day-to-day survival can often be extremely hard and draining just to get by. One of their most favorite things to do is taking in abused, abandoned, and rejected dogs and cats to give them a safe and wonderful place to live. Mike and Rena are extremely gifted in writing poetry about their day-to-day trials and tribulations. The poems contained in this book come from actual experiences and thoughts they have had over the span of their lives. This collection of the poems tells stories of their life challenges, hardships, and missteps. These poems come directly from their hearts and shows the wisdom they have learned over their lifetimes. Some poems are funny, some sad, some crazy, but yet all contain lessons that are designed to improve the lives of other autistics as well as provide great narrative for teachers, therapists, parents, as well as other people who may be close to the life of an autistic. Enjoy. - Mike Green, Editor & Project Manager

This book Palms, Passion, and Resurrection: Holy Week According to Mark's Gospel, is designed to be a devotional resource for those seeking a deeper connection to God in the Lenten season. In each chapter, we journey with Jesus through the events of Holy Week according to the Gospel of Mark. There are many reasons for using the Gospel of Mark as the primary source for this study. It is the earliest and shortest of the four Gospels and is believed to be a source used by both Matthew and Luke. Mark's Gospel is set apart due to its portrayal of Christ as a suffering servant. Furthermore, the crucifixion is described in bloody and brutal detail.[i] Mark's Gospel moves rapidly, but then slows down during the Passion narrative, devoting six chapters to the last week of Jesus. Mark's account also chronicles Jesus' last week in the greatest detail, giving a day-by-day account.As we walk alongside Jesus during Holy Week, we bear witness to the passion story. We join the crowd's praises during Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. We witness Jesus cleansing the Temple, overturning the tables, and driving out the money changers. We listen to Jesus' teachings in the Temple as he addresses some of the religious leader's questions. We smell the oil that is poured on Jesus' head during his anointing. We sit with Jesus at the table, alongside the disciples, in the Upper Room during the Last Supper. We pray with Jesus as he agonizes in the Garden of Gethsemane where he is betrayed and arrested. We watch helplessly during Jesus' trial, crucifixion, and death on the cross. Ultimately, we celebrate Jesus' victory over death through the resurrection.

James McReynolds has been my friend for more than 40 years. He and I first met when we were young staff members for our denominations-he a Southern Baptist, and I a Methodist. We were both working in communication-he a Southern Baptist and I for the Methodist Board of Evangelism. We were both pursuing doctoral studies at the Vanderbilt University Divinity School in Nashville, Tennessee. He was born to be a communicator. More than this, he was born to be a preacher. --Harold BalesFor my friend, encourager, and colleague in Christ, Jim McReynolds About 15 years ago, I received my calling from God to become a preacher of the Word and it scared me to death. But like Isaiah, after the "Woe is me," I said, "Here am I, Lord." A few year later I was blessed to meet Jim, a very kind and compassionate man with a love for preaching the Word of God. --Catherine A. Stander

These are the poems of a grown man who has endeavored to gaze steadily at his subject(s): love (see "Peggy"!), lyrical arguments for tolerance of all kinds, sly humor, and every poem, every one, is infused with gratitude and joy.--Thomas Lux, Georgia Institute of Technology Eugene Bianchi's poems come from an extraordinarily rich spiritual and sensual life, one in which the poet moves beyond the "tamed divinity" of a highly material world . . .--Ronald Schuchard, Emory UniversityBianchi's poems put a tender, spiritual touch to suffering, aging, relationships, connections to animals, along with reminiscences of a life of profound movement of the spirit and soul. --Judy Clarence, California State University These poems are replete with the wisdom of age and the exuberance of youth. Bianchi celebrates "our common plight" with the mind of the philosopher and the eye of the poet. --Charlotte Barr, poet, The Text Beneath The occasional swat at favorite targets, Mother Church in particular, is an added feature of this well-written collection. -- James Torrens, S.J., author

Do you pray? A recent poll asked this question of a broad sampling of Americans. Most (some 78%) answered "yes". These included both those who attend some form of worship service regularly and those who do not.Are your prayers answered? Again, the poll revealed that most people who pray do find that at least some of their prayers are answered.When we look at the usual gauges of our culture-TV, movies, newspapers, and magazines-we would hardly expect these findings. The secular influences that surround us seem much more the norm than does the head bowed in prayer. Certainly devotees of practically all major religions are encouraged to pray. But finding that large numbers of people actually do so is both surprising and comforting.Are you comfortable with the way you pray? The Gallup poll did not address this question. Many people feel inadequate in their efforts to communicate with God. For some, this inadequacy has led them to abandon the practice entirely. Others persist, knowing all the while that their prayer life could be much better. If you are in either of these groups, this book is addressed to you. I certainly do not know all the answers to an effective prayer life, and make no pretense to even be an expert in the field. But I have sought for years to better understand prayer, to raise my prayers above the common, everyday levels. In this book I will share some things I have learned, and perhaps one or two of these will resonate within you and aid you in your search. If so, I will have succeeded.

"One thing about him, when he was there, he was all there." I was listening to Dr. Gibson Winter, then Professor for Christianity and Society at Princeton Theological Seminary. Dr. Winter had this wonderful way of sharing an aside--an "oh by the way" story--which would invariably have a meaning all to itself, staying in my mind long after the words of the lecture had been snuffed out by the stuffy air of Stuart Hall. On this particular occasion, he was describing a colleague, whose name I''ve forgotten. The man, the subject of Dr. Winter''s anecdote, was notorious for getting so immersed in his work that he would on occasion be a tad late for a faculty meeting or even his own lecture. He was the proverbial absent-minded professor: almost at times comical, yet respected and beloved. Upon arriving, he would light up the room, engaging others in lively conversation, making it easy for them to overlook his occasional tardiness. Then Dr. Winter capsulated his description of his colleague in that one phrase: "When he was there, he was all there."I could visualize this man; indeed, I felt as though I already knew him. You know him or her, too. These rare individuals are all there when they are there. They are the ones you wait on at the theater, or save a seat for at the restaurant, or strain your neck for as you anxiously anticipate their arrival at the ball game. "Where could he be?" you ask. "Do you think she remembered the address?" you wonder. "Did he get so immersed in his research that he forgot our engagement?" you question.And you want this person to be there.I could see Dr. Winter''s friend arriving with disheveled hair, wearing in his tweed coat, wrinkled shirt, and blue jeans. He opens his arms wide to embrace his friends, apologizes for being late, and smiles as he asks how they are. And he means it. And suddenly everyone''s little measure of agitation evaporates as they grin in return. He''s there now, all there. Wherever this person is, he lives that moment to the fullest. And like moths attracted to light, people naturally drift in his direction.I''ve often wanted to be more like that man, whoever he was. Unfortunately, I haven''t always been all there, once I was there. Too often I''ve been distracted by the place I had come from or the people I would see next. I''ve brought the problems of the past into the present or pre-played the worries of the future into the now. And in short, I wasn''t there.I''ve learned, ever so slowly, little by little, that life is lived in the moment, or it isn''t lived at all; if I''m not here, I''m either in the past--which is no more--or I''m in the future, which is not yet. If I''m still wandering around in the hallways of the past, lost in a maze of regret, or trying to catapult myself from the present into the next time zone, which can''t be entered until it arrives, it''s not simply that I''m not here: I''m actually nowhere. Like T.S. Eliot''s J. Alfred Prufrock--lingering on the outside looking in, fearful of the present, doubting, wondering, questioning whether he has "the strength to force the moment to its crises?" anxiously awaiting the future, mistakenly believing that, "There will be time, there will be time/To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet"--we miss the thrill and excitement, victories and defeats, struggles and accomplishments of the present when we aren''t fully alive in the moment, willing to risk ourselves in it.