{"id":628,"date":"2008-10-10T16:55:11","date_gmt":"2008-10-10T21:55:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/\/?p=628"},"modified":"2008-10-10T16:55:11","modified_gmt":"2008-10-10T21:55:11","slug":"riven-by-jerry-jenkins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=628","title":{"rendered":"Riven by Jerry Jenkins"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It is time to play a Wild Card<\/span>!<\/strong> <\/span>Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a>. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter!<\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Jerry Jenkins<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Riven <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Tyndale House Publishers (July 22, 2008)<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>JERRY B. JENKINS’S writing has appeared in Time, Reader’s Digest, and Christianity Today, Guideposts, and dozens of other periodicals. He is an award-winning novelist with more than 70 million books sold, including 20 New York Times bestsellers (seven that debuted number one). Author of Left Behind, he has been featured on the cover of Newsweek magazine.<\/p>\n

Jerry owns both the Christian Writers Guild and Jenkins Entertainment – a filmmaking company in Los Angeles.<\/p>\n

He serves as chairman of the board of Trustees for the Moody Bible Institute of Chicago, and he and his wife Dianna live in Colorado.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Product Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $24.99
\nHardcover: 558 pages
\nPublisher: Tyndale House Publishers (July 22, 2008)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 141430904X
\nISBN-13: 978-1414309040<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Adamsville State Penitentiary
\nDeath Row<\/p>\n

With the man\u2019s first step, the others on the Row began a slow tapping on their cell doors.<\/p>\n

The tiny procession reached the end of the pod, and the rest of the way through security and all the way to the death chamber was lined on either side with corrections officers shoulder to shoulder, feet spread, hands clasped behind their backs, heads lowered. As the condemned reached them, each raised his head, snapped to attention, arms at his sides, feet together.<\/p>\n

What a tribute, he thought. Who would ever have predicted this for one who had, for so much of his life, been such a bad, bad man?<\/p>\n

October, seventeen years earlier
\nTouhy Trailer Park<\/p>\n

Brady Wayne Darby clapped his little brother on the rear. \u201cPetey, time to get up, bud. We got no water pressure, so . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAgain?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s a trickle, so give yourself a sponge bath.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMa already gone?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Now come on. Don\u2019t be late.\u201d<\/p>\n

At sixteen, Brady was twice Peter\u2019s age and hated being the man of the house\u2014or at least of the trailer. But if no one else was going to keep an eye on his little brother, he had to. It was bad enough Brady\u2019s bus came twenty minutes before Peter\u2019s and the kid had to be home alone. Brady poured the boy a bowl of cereal and called through the bathroom door, \u201cNo dressing like a hoodlum today, hear?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019s it all right for you and not for me?\u201d \u201cWhatever.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStraight home after school. I got practice, so I\u2019ll see ya for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMa gonna be here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe doesn\u2019t report to me. Just keep your distance till I get home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady rummaged for cigarettes, finally finding five usable butts in one of the ashtrays. He quickly smoked two down to their filters, tearing open the remaining three and dumping the tobacco in his shirt pocket. Desperately trying to quit so he could stay on the football team, Brady couldn\u2019t be seen with the other smokers across the road from the school, so he had resorted to sniffing his pocket throughout the day. If he couldn\u2019t cop a smoke from a friend after last class and find a secluded place to light up, he was so jittery at practice he could hardly stand still.<\/p>\n

Brady grabbed his books and slung his black leather jacket over his shoulder as he left the trailer, finding the asphalt already steaming in the sun. Others from the trailer park waiting for the bus made him feel as if he were seeing his own reflection. Guys and girls dressed virtually the same, black from head to toe except for white shirts and blouses. Guys had their hair slicked back, sideburns grown retro, high-collared shirts tucked into skintight pants over pointy-toed shoes. Oversize wallets, most likely as empty as Brady\u2019s, protruded from back pockets and were attached to belt loops by imitation silver or gold chains.<\/p>\n

So they were decades behind the times, even for rebels. Brady\u2014an obsessive movie watcher\u2014was a James Dean fan and dressed how he wanted, and the rest copied him. One snob called them rebels without a clue.<\/p>\n

Brady scowled and narrowed his eyes, nodding a greeting. The fat girl with the bad face, whom Brady had unceremoniously dumped more than a year ago after he had gotten to know her better than he should have in the backseat of a friend\u2019s car, sneered as she cradled her gigantic purse to her chest. \u201cStill trying to play jock?\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady looked away. \u201cLeave it alone, Agatha.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMore like a preppy,\u201d one of the guys said, reaching to flick Brady\u2019s schoolbooks.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou definitely don\u2019t want to start with me,\u201d Brady said, glaring and calling him the foulest name he could think of. The kid quickly backed off.<\/p>\n

Brady knew he looked strange carrying schoolbooks. But the coach kept track.<\/p>\n

The trailer park was the last stop on the route, and the yellow barge soon drifted in, crammed with suburbia\u2019s finest: jocks, preppies, and nerds\u2014every last one younger than Brady. No other self-respecting kid with a driver\u2019s license rode the bus.<\/p>\n

In a life of endless days of open-fly humiliation, this boarding ritual was the most painful. Brady took it upon himself to lead the group. They could hide behind him and each other, avoiding the squints and stares and held noses as they slowly made their way down the aisle looking, usually in vain, for someone to slide over far enough to allow one cheek on the seat for the ride to school.<\/p>\n

\u201cPhew!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c. . . brewery . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c. . . smokehouse . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c. . . B.O. . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady neither looked nor waited. His daily goal was to find the most resolute rich kid and make him move. Today he stared down at the short-cropped blond hair of a boy who had been trying to hide a smile while pretending to study. Brady pressed his knee against him and growled, \u201cMove in, frosh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a sophomore,\u201d the kid huffed as he made room.<\/p>\n

On the way home, Brady would ride the activities bus. There he would for sure be the only one of his type, but football earned him his place among the jocks, cheerleaders, thespians, and assorted club members. Wide-eyed at first, they seemed to have grudgingly accepted him, though they still clearly saw the trailer park as a novelty. One evening as he trudged from the bus, Brady had been sure everyone was watching. He turned quickly, only to be proven right, and felt face-slapped. At least the trailer park was the first stop at the end of the day. 11 a.m.<\/p>\n

First Community Church
\nVidalia, Georgia<\/p>\n

Reverend Thomas Carey knew he would not be getting the job when the head of the pastoral search committee\u2014a youngish man with thick, dark hair\u2014dismissed the others and asked Grace Carey if she wouldn\u2019t mind waiting for her husband in the car.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, not at all,\u201d she said, but Thomas interrupted.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnything you say to me, you can say to her.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man put a hand on Thomas\u2019s shoulder and spoke softly. \u201cOf course, you\u2019re free to share anything you wish with your spouse, Reverend, but why don\u2019t you decide after you hear me out?\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace assured Thomas it was all right and retreated from the sanctuary.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou tell her everything?\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. She\u2019s my\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe knows we saw you at your request, not ours, and that we didn\u2019t feel you warranted a visit to hear you preach?\u201d<\/p>\n

Thomas Carey pressed his lips together. Then, \u201cI appreciate your meeting with us today.\u201d<\/p>\n

The committee chairman pointed to a pew and leaned against another as Thomas sat. \u201cI need to do you a favor and be frank with you, Reverend. I can tell you right now this is not going to go your way. In fact, we\u2019re not going to bother with a vote.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t sound fair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease,\u201d Dark Hair said. \u201cI know these people, and if I may be blunt, you rank last on the list of six we\u2019ve already interviewed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShouldn\u2019t you poll the others on their\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, but you have a three-year Bible college diploma, no real degree, no seminary training. You\u2019re, what, in your midforties?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m forty-six, yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSir, I\u2019ve got to tell you, I\u2019m not surprised that your r\u00e9sum\u00e9 consists of eight churches in twenty-two years\u2014the largest fewer than 150 members. Have you ever asked yourself why?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy you\u2019ve never been successful, never advanced, never landed a church like ours . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSurely you don\u2019t equate success with numbers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReverend Carey, I\u2019m just trying to help. You and your sweet wife come in here, I assume trying to put your best foot forward, yet you look and dress ten years older than you are, and your hair is styled like a 1940s matinee idol.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dark Hair extended his hand. \u201cI want to sincerely thank you for your time today. Please pass along my best wishes to your wife. And be assured I meant no disrespect. If it\u2019s of any help, I\u2019m aware of several small churches looking for pastors.\u201d<\/p>\n

Thomas stood slowly and buttoned his sport jacket. \u201cI appreciate your frankness; I really do. Any idea how I might qualify for a bigger work? I don\u2019t want to leave the ministry, but our only child is in her second year of law school at Emory, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen there are many Christian colleges that would give a minister huge discounts?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid she would be neither interested in nor qualified for a Christian school just now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see. Well, I\u2019m sorry. But the fact is, you are what you are. None of your references called you a gifted preacher, despite assuring us you\u2019re a wonderful man of God. If you cannot abide your current station, perhaps the secular marketplace is an option.\u201d<\/p>\n

5 p.m.
\nHead Football Coach\u2019s Office
\nForest View High School<\/p>\n

Brady hadn\u2019t even thoroughly dried after his shower. Now he sat in Coach Roberts\u2019s cramped space with his stuff on his lap, waiting for the beefy man. Every player was listed on a poster on the wall, his place on the depth chart and his grade in every class there for all to see. Brady knew what was coming. He should have just skulked out to the bus and, by ignoring the coach\u2019s summons, announced his quitting before being cut.<\/p>\n

But he knew the drill. Never give up. Never say die. Keep your head up. Look eager, willing.<\/p>\n

Finally Roberts barreled in, dropping heavily into a squeaky chair. \u201cI gotta ask you, Darby: what\u2019re you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou asked me to come see you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean what\u2019re you doing trying to play football? You\u2019re a shop kid, ain\u2019t ya? You didn\u2019t come out as a frosh or a soph. I smell smoke all over you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI quit, Coach! I know the rules.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re barely a month into the year, and you\u2019re makin\u2019 Ds in every class. You\u2019re fourth-string quarterback, and entertaining as it is for everybody else to watch you racing all over the practice field on every play, we both know you\u2019re never gonna see game time. Now, really, what\u2019re you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust trying to learn, to make it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady couldn\u2019t tell him he was looking for something, anything, to get him out of the trailer park and closer to the kids he had despised for so long. They seemed to have everything handed to them: clothes, cars, girls, college, futures. No, he wasn\u2019t ready to dress differently; he took enough heat from his friends just for carrying books and playing football.<\/p>\n

\u201cListen, your teachers, even the ones outside of industrial arts, tell me you\u2019re not stupid. You\u2019re a good reader, sometimes have something to say. But you don\u2019t test well, rarely do your homework. What\u2019s the deal?\u201d
\nBrady shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s just my ma and my brother and me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, we\u2019ve all got problems, Darby.\u201d<\/p>\n

Do we? Really? \u201cLike I said, I quit smoking, and I\u2019m trying to get my grades up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, I want to see you succeed, but frankly you\u2019re a distraction here. I rarely cut anybody willing to practice and ride the bench\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but this isn\u2019t working, and I don\u2019t want to waste any more of your time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry about wasting my\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr mine. Or my coaches\u2019. If you\u2019re determined to get involved in some extracurricular stuff, there\u2019s all kinds of other\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Coach Roberts looked at his watch. \u201cWell, what do you like to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch movies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t we all? But is it a passion for you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want to be an actor someday? study theater?\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady hesitated. \u201cNever thought of that, but yeah, that would be too good to be true.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow see, with that attitude, you\u2019ll never get anywhere. If you want to try that, try it! Talk to Nabertowitz, the theater guy. See if there\u2019s a club or a play or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s rumors about him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo yourself a favor and keep your mouth shut about that. Those artsy people can be a little flamboyant, but the guy\u2019s got a wife and kids, so don\u2019t be jumping to conclusions, and you\u2019ll stay out of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n

Brady shrugged. \u201cI\u2019d be as new there as I was here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I expect you\u2019d be a sight among that crowd, though there\u2019s all kinds of behind-the-scenes stuff I\u2019ll bet you could do. But I need to tell you, football is not your thing.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/h3>\n

Riven<\/a> is a very lengthy book for one of its genre. I am a fast reader and I thought I’d never reach the end. Much of the book is spent developing the two main characters, Brady and Thomas. At times I felt like there was more information given than I needed but I can see that Mr. Jenkins wanted the reader to know exactly how each of the men came to be where they were in life; therefore the detailed history of each – Thomas, a man wholly dedicated but woefully inadequate in his service for the Lord and Brady, a young man so full of potential but whose hostile environment and poor choices destine him to self-destruction. The heart of the story takes place after the two men meet at a time when they have both lost hope, a divine encounter that ultimately touches and changes many lives.<\/p>\n

Riven<\/a> is a dark tale filled with discouragement, hopelessness, greed, violence, and condemnation. But where there is darkness, there is also the light that counters it with hope, love, forgiveness, and redemption and that light also shines through Riven.<\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his\/her book’s FIRST chapter! You never know when […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-628","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/628","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=628"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/628\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":639,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/628\/revisions\/639"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=628"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=628"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=628"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}