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Jim McReynolds has done it again! He has filled another book from cover to cover with sheer, unadulterated joy. This man is a marvel. He truly is. I really believe he could be confined in a straitjacket, strapped in a briar-studded, hard, and unyielding chair in some subterranean prison with an unforgiving noise level produced by constantly thudding jackhammers and screaming air-whistles, and still think about how wonderfully joyous it all is. Age has not dimmed his voice or quelled his spirit. Now in his 80s, Jim is more devoted than ever to this ever-recurring theme in all his writings, that no matter how desperate our circumstances or how mitigated our pleasures, there is an indefinable, insuperable joy at the heart of human existence, and we are grossly remiss if we fail to note it and celebrate it with every heart's breath we take. I sometimes wonder what it must be like to be Laurel McReynolds and to married to this fantastically positive and celebrate eternal joy. The illustrious Norman Vincent Peale, author of the perennially best-selling The Power of Positive Thinking, was right, all those years ago, when he heard Jim preach a sermon, anointed him the Minister of Joy to the World. It took one to know one, and Peale was nothing if he was not the great drum major of joyful, creative thinking from his pulpit on Fifth Avenue in New York City. Perhaps Laurel, who has served Jim's meals and helped to keep his house or what now proved years on end. Perhaps one day she would favor us with a book of her own, or at least an article, in which she describes what it has been like to share a home with this irrepressible genius of the eternal joyful attitude. Laurel is a joy herself, reflecting in her personality and face the supernal glow from her love for God who gives eternal joy. - From the Foreword by John KillingerJames E. McReynolds is a preacher, teacher, author, coach, and retreat leader who shares the joy of the Lord. He is an ordained minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). He lives in Elmwood, Nebraska.

Rebekah Tucker-Motley is an ordained clergy woman who lives in Virginia with her spouse, three children, two dogs, and two cats. She has degrees from George Mason University, Austin Presbyterian Seminary and is currently pursuing a Doctor of Ministry degree from Pittsburg Theological Seminary. When is not writing or studying, she is playing outside.

Chris Warren is Pastor of the First Cumberland Presbyterian Church in Murfreesboro. He has a Master's Degree in Divinity from the Vanderbilt Divinity School, a Master's Degree in Music from the University of Michigan, and a Bachelor's Degree in Music from the Blair School of Music at Vanderbilt University. He has served in many capacities in local congregations, at the presbytery, and General Assembly level for the Cumberland Presbyterian denomination. Reverend Warren is married to Reverend Joy Warren, and they have two wonderful children, Emma and Micah.

These sermons were meant to be heard, not read. My sincere prayer is that everyone who reads them senses the love and passion with which they were proclaimed in worship. As you read, may the Spirit of God convince you of God's great love for you in Christ Jesus our Lord.This book is dedicated to the congregations which have endured my preaching, encouraged my gifts and loved me like Jesus loves me. Philippians 1:3,Tracey

High school students around the country used to take a course that introduced them to many of the world's religions. In classes filled with children of many beliefs, teachers would talk about how a particular faith developed and how it spread.Today, when it seems that the faithful in one religion are inevitably taking potshots at believers in another religion, people may have forgotten how life was in past eras. People of different faiths used to live and work side by side with little concern. At one time, Jews served as advisors and heads of state in Muslim countries. Christians and Jews worked together in Catholic Spain. Christians lived in harmony with Muslims in the Middle East.Once, Jewish and Christian icons could be found in the Ka'baa, the holiest religious object in Islam, located in Mecca, the holiest city in Islam. Even today, Jerusalem hosts the Dome on the Rock, a sacred Islamic mosque, side by side with the Wailing Wall, the last surviving piece of the great Jewish Temple that once existed there.Visitors to Jerusalem, the capital of Israel, can see religious Jews, wrapped in prayer shawls, trudging along ancient streets along with Muslims and Christians. Overhead, the cry of the Islamic muezzin, calling the faithful to prayer, rings out along with the tolling bells of Christian churches. The flag of Israel with the Star of David in its center flutters in the same breeze.Such situations are too rare. Members of the three religions seem to fight more than they pray together. Over time, the three great religions have become separated by seemingly unbridgeable chasms. Actually, they are very much alike.¿ They share a common heritage. They each tie their history to a single event and a single person who lived maybe 4,000 years ago.¿ They worship the same God.¿ They have similar holidays. Easter, for example, the holiest day in the Christian calendar, is tied directly to Passover, the most significant holiday in Judaism.¿ They each believe Jerusalem is a sacred city.There are many more links between the three faiths than differences.The passing years have clouded how much Judaism, Christianity and Islam have in common. In fact, those comparative religion classes aren't offered any more in public schools. Too many people today have no idea how much these religions share.Maybe it's time to review the past as a way to create a peaceful path into the future.

Trapped in My Own Mind is about us--- who we are and who we can become. The authors could be any one of us-all of us who know hurt and darkness. These personal experiences reflect our humanity---our pain, our struggles, our values, and our beliefs. The stories are about our habits that finally hurt so much that we are desperate enough to change our behaviors. Although life holds few certainties, two things are certain: change and choice. We can choose to give-up or to grow towards our best selves. Choosing to walk through the fire of change does burn, and along the path there are many places to stumble and fall. But we can get up again and again. And each time the wounds heal more and we learn our strengths. We learn gratitude and compassion. We find our own truth.To these stories of self-discovery, we can apply psychological perspectives. Humanistic psychology emphasizes free will, personal responsibility, and reaching our full potential. Self-awareness and self-acceptance are necessary but not always easy, since true self-examination reveals the good and the bad. The author of the story It's a Gift expresses this well. "The fastest way to happiness is learning to accept who I am, gifts, flaws and all; and learning to love that person in the here and now, as I am today. Not who I may be, or who I was, but who I am."The field of positive psychology also focuses on optimal human functioning. We can work with our virtues and skills to nourish positive emotions, traits, and relationships. No matter how low we feel, we can find something worthwhile in ourselves, and shift our momentum toward more uplifting experiences.In chapter six, Stealth Deceit, the author writes, "I do not believe that influences and challenges in my life are actually the direct causes of depression. But the thoughts and emotional reactions that develop in me are what allow depression to take hold of me." And in chapter four he states, "A lot of my struggles have not necessarily come from facts, but from what I thought was fact." These insights clearly reflect a principle of cognitive psychology; our negative thoughts may cause an emotional over-reaction. When we challenge our faulty thinking and replace it with more productive thinking, we activate the cycle of better thinking, better feeling, and better doing. Once when I was down with bad times a friend simply said, "It is all part of it." I understood her reality check to mean that being human has its ups and downs and we don't just get the good times. However, we do have some choice. We can suffer in self-recrimination and blame, or we can face our challenges and take responsibility for our healing and growth. We start our journey and find the journey fuels us forward. I wish you fulfilling travels. Robin Popp, M.A.Associate Professor of PsychologyChattanooga State Community College

For many people the idea of small town urban life existed only behind the screens of television as millions watched the fictitious comedic affairs of the small-town characters from "Mayberry, "on a weekly basis. The show's popularity had some "big city "dwellers longing for such a cozy place, and urban dwellers, feeling blessed by their Divine providence. Urban cities speckled the map across the Nation. But for those living in Cleveland, Tennessee, during the 40's and 50's, their lifestyle was much the same as the residents of Mayberry. Every small town has a history built around its legends and folklore. The celebrations, the secrets, the legends, and folklore that are revealed in this book are as much a part of the city's history as its citizens.This book, Growing Up in Urban America In The 40's and 50's shares stories that draws the reader back in time to the carefree days of his or her own childhood. A time of innocence where family, community, and country were significant. The author, Charles Bowlin, is a life-long resident of Cleveland, Tn. His book is an easy read that will entertain, inform, and inspire the reader. His detailed accounts of small town life in urban South Cleveland documents history of the area, but will resonate with readers from all walks of life. For those from similar backgrounds, it will offer a time to reflect and reconnect with a simpler time. The book also provides those from larger cities to imagine a modest, but somehow fortunate time.I believe you will enjoy the innocent yet valuable tales that fill the pages of this book. I am very proud of the author, my Father, and am pleased that he chose to share his memories for many to appreciate. Let me suggest that you grab a glass of sweet tea and head to the porch with this book. The written words may remind you to breathe a little deeper and find your own place of serenity as you reminisce about the good ole days. Karen Michele Welch

I was born at Lincoln University, in Chester County Pennsylvania, on Oct. 22, 1944. My father was from Johnson County in Tennessee. My mother, from Buchanan County in Virginia. Both my grandmothers were of Native American ancestry. My 5th and 7th generation ancestors were Cherokee chiefs. We started moving South in 1946. The first stop was near Rising Sun, MD, near Cecilton, Maryland. In 1948 we moved to the Federalsburg area. I started school in 1950 at Federalsburg, Maryland. We lived on a dairy farm between Harmony and American Corner. I have told many people that I had the best upbringing anyone could have. We were taught, (I was the third of four boys), to get up in the morning before daylight and go to work. We learned to do what we were told, when we were told, and the way we were told to do it. When my two older brothers went into the military, they wrote home that they got to lay in bed until 5:30 AM, and that they already knew how to take orders. In 1953, my youngest brother died. Good friends, family and faith got us through that time. My mother called us in, put our heads in her lap and said, "Boys, you don't have a little brother anymore." He wasn't with us; but he never really left us. The circle is unbroken, and someday we will see him again.In 1955, we had another brother. He left us in 1966 just weeks short of his 11th birthday. Again friends, family, but especially faith carried us through. The more heartbreak that happened, the stronger became our faith. This was not belief in a god; but, in the one and only true God that knows all there is from the beginning. In 1958, my hip came out of place, and I walked nearly a year with it out. The day I went to the hospital in Easton MD, I was on a hay wagon behind a baler loading the wagon. My mother picked me up and we went to see a doctor at the hospital. He took hold of my leg moved it and said, "Can he stay?" The rest of that story has already been written. The living God knew everything about me, He planned my way. Even when I went astray, He was there to bring me back. He knows the way to take, as you will see in the following stories. I went to work in the Fall of 1961 at the local bakery. I worked 90 to 100 hours a week while still being in school. I started off cleaning floors and was plant Superintendent when I left 11 years later. I then started operating heavy equipment in 1972 and did so until 2000. Except for the first company I worked for, I was the job supervisor as well as an operator. The Lord always promoted me to higher positions with more responsibility. I hope you will see through some of my life-stories, that our greatest promotion is leading someone to higher ground in Christ. I've been the pastor of Faith Fellowship Church near Preston, MD, since 1985 when the pastor died, and I was asked to fill in until they found a pastor. It's now been over 35 years! Buddy DunnDecember 2021

Clouds can stir the imagination. These puffs of air laced with water crystals take on mysterious colors and shapes. it''s no wonder clouds have been given mythological and folkloric qualities by many cultures.In the Bible clouds are symbols of God''s presence and guidance. The people were inspired to lift their eyes to heaven and walk in faith.In ancient Greek myth, clouds were seen as a group of young nymphs called Nephelai. These cloud spirits, depicted as beautiful and transparent, spent their days collecting water from the rivers in cloudy pitchers, then floating up to the heavens to pour water down from the sky, nourishing the earth and feeding the streams. Nephelai sailed through the sky in billowing white robes, looking like swans. Hindu tradition reflects the belief that elephants brought the rain, and that clouds themselves were the celestial relatives of the white elephants that roamed the earth. An elephant''s body was thought to be representative of a cloud, and they would use their trunks to shower the earth with rain.Native Americans also created myths and folklore around clouds. Some saw clouds as the clothing of the gods of heaven. A god spreading arms would cause the clouds to move across the sky.Even today, cloud myths endure, often associated with honoring the dead. The Pueblo, an agricultural people, believe that the dead become the Cloud People and send them rain, thereby nourishing their land.There''s no doubt about it- There''s just something about clouds that is utterly magical. And it''s not just you and I that have that feeling. It''s a universal phenomenon throughout history.