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C on t en ts
Preface. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Chapter 1: All Showroom, No Warehouse. . . . . . . . . 13
Chapter 2: Cooking the Books . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Chapter 3: Empathy for Others. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Chapter 4: Getting His Way . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
Chapter 5: Meeting Miss Velma. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
Chapter 6: A Partnership Born . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Chapter 7: Reaching Out . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Chapter 8: Trading Perspectives. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Chapter 9: Looking at Life from Both Sides Now . . . 44
Chapter 10: The Phone Call . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Chapter 11: A Stirring of the Soul. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
Chapter 12: Small Miracles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
Chapter 13: The Decision . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Chapter 14: The Great Giveaway. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
Chapter 15: The Other Side of the Story. . . . . . . . . . 70
Chapter 16: Great Expectations. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Chapter 17: Straddling the Cultural Line. . . . . . . . . . 79
Chapter 18: Walking the Talk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Chapter 19: Brother to Brother. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
Chapter 20: Making Disciples. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
Chapter 21: Daring to Enlighten. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
Chapter 22: The First Good-bye. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
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One
A ll S how room ,
N o Wa r ehouse
::::
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was the perfect fit. It was among the fastest-g rowing churches
in America.
Prestonwood was a larger-than-life place, he said of the
four-thousand-seat church, and I deftly positioned myself in its
center.
Looking back, my father had emerged as an individual microcosm of Planof ull of unabashed pride, unchecked growth, and
unlimited potential. But he was so miserable he would stay up
nights in anguish. Deep in his soul, he knew he was living a lie.
It was a facade, he wrote. I worked long hours, day and
night. Friendships were all about comparing what we had with
others and affirming each others material possessions. On the
outside, we were beautiful people living in a beautiful place
doing beautiful things, but inside, the pit opened wide, and it
was asking more and more of my soul.
At age twenty-eightjust a year older than I am nowhe
looked in the mirror and didnt see Mike Fechner; he saw the
rich young ruler Jesus had admonished to sell all he had, give to
the poor, and follow me. Or the prodigal son, who had turned
his back on Gods ways. Or the one he identified with most
Jacob, who was known for his deception.
I was a deceiver, he wrote. All showroom. No warehouse.
For a two-week period, unable to sleep, he stayed up long
after my mom had gone to bed, weeping in misery. God, he
prayed, I dont really know you. Im so far away. I cant overcome these lies. Help me. Please help me.
Thats the first lesson my father learned: That God listens.
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That God cares about us. That God answers our prayers, though
not necessarily how we might envision him doing so.
My dad was about to undergo a radical life change whose
catalyst was a woman who couldnt be more different from him.
Not that digging out of this dark hole of deceit would be easy.
After all, he had been digging that hole since roughly the day
he was born.
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Tw o
C ook ing
t he
B ook s
::::
At age five,my dad and his twin brother, Mel, were sifting
through a garbage dumpster on the military post in Virginia
where their fathermy grandfatherwas a colonel. They found
a bag of individually wrapped candy. Uncle Mel wanted to eat it.
Dad wanted to sell it.
My brother and I are selling candy, he told the person at
the first house they went to. All proceeds will go toward planting f lowers in the neighborhood.
Ka-ching. An easy fifty cents. The person behind the next
doorbell went down just as easy. And on and on.
Mel didnt like the duplicitywhat flowers?but went along
with the ploy. When Ruben, their older brother, heard of the
plan, he demanded a third of the take or hed talk. (Extortion
at an early age.) My dad refused. Ruben squealed. Mel and
Dad were forced to retrace their steps and apologize to all they
had duped.
But heres how hardened my dads heart was at that tender
age: There was no contriteness in my heart, no sorrow for my
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but he was just like the young man he would grow up to be. I
was, he said, a pretender.
As he got older, what continued to sink his integrity was
greed. He and his brothers were to keep track of the money they
made from doing chores and tithe 10 percent at church. But
I hated the idea of tithing, he wrote. It was my money, not
Gods.
At ten, he was cooking the books like a tax cheater, underreporting his income so he could justify paying less of a tithe.
With his dad away in Vietnam and the family having moved to
Texas, he was allowed to play bingo at Fort Worths Colonial
Country Club, where his granddad was a member. As his blotted
numbers started to line up in his favor, his heart pounded with
anticipation.
Bingo! he yelled. He had won a $200 jackpot, but when
his mother made him split it with brothers Mel and Ruben, he
fumed.
His grandparentsnot churchgoers at the timewould host
huge poker games, and my dad was allowed to play. When a
great-uncle offered him pointers, he listened with the intensity
of an attendee at a get-rich-quick seminar in a Hilton ballroom. And it paid off. He walked off with a handful of cash one
evening.
This is it, he remembered thinking. This is what I want in
lifeand more.
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Three
E mpat hy
for O t her s
::::
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Four
G et ting H is Way
::::
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Five
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Six
A Pa rt ner ship B or n
::::
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lashed Velma with verbal and physical abuse. One day, she got
fed up and told him to leave. He threatened to kill her and chased
her, but she escaped with Romon. She went to the police and got
a restraining order and, ultimately, a legal separation.
Later, at the funeral for Velmas nephewk illed in a drive-by
shootingthe pastor spoke about the love and forgiveness of
Jesus. He invited anyone who was backsliding or not saved to
stand. Velma stood up and surrendered her life to Jesus.
The drug habit ended. Her life underwent a transformation.
She had known despair and darkness. Now she delved deeply
into the Word of God. Velma began to pray and fast regularly,
and she sensed God working strongly in her life.
By the time she met my father in 1989, Velma still had little
in the way of money or possessions. She lived in Turner Courts, a
public housing project in Bonton. Her neighbor was a drug dealer.
A house of prostitution drew a brisk business across the street.
Gunfire and police sirens shattered the night. But what Velma
lacked in the way of the worlds riches, she made up with faith.
Thats what drew my father to her. My dad had lived an easy
life and yet was still a f ledgling in his faith. Velma, on the other
hand, had lived a horrific life but stuck to God like Velcro.
I would quickly come to see that Velma had everything I
ever truly wanted in life, my father wrote. Not money, no. But
inner serenity. Abundant hope. Even the respect of the community. I needed to be part of her bundle of sticks. I needed to align
myself and my family with the God of her faith so that when
hard times came, I would not be snapped.
In November 1989, a few months after my father heard Velma
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A Partnership Born :: 35
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Seven
R e aching O u t
::::
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Reaching Out :: 39
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Eight
Tr a ding
P er spectiv es
::::
Velma was likea gnarled tree growing out of a rock; she hadnt
had the best upbringing, and she wasnt living in a place that
offered much nourishmentbut somehow, between her faith in
God and her deep-rooted stubbornness, she was going to grow.
She was going to change whatever she could change in Bonton.
She helped implement a GED program through the Mary
Crowley Academy, which needed twenty-five students to stay
open. She would knock on door after door in the Bonton
neighborhood, all but begging residents to complete their
education.
She prayed for the students by name. If they did not come to
school, I went to their houses and woke them up and got them
there, she said. If they didnt answer the doors, I pushed the
mailbox lid open. If I smelled food, I yelled, Come to school!
Come to school! Twenty-six students signed up that semester.
Twenty-six finished.
Together, beginning with a simple Bible study that she and
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Trading Perspectives :: 41
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Trading Perspectives :: 43
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