[Introduction] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Who put the skunk in the trunk?

Introduction

Special Delivery...

After fathering three children and authoring five books, I now feel qualified to say something insightful. I believe that the closest a man will ever come to giving birth is writing a book. During the past nine months, this "baby" has been ever before me. I have not always been rational. I sometimes snack late at night. I once ate a full jar of dill pickles. And was sick in the morning. The book you now hold (weighing in at 13 ounces) was conceived about 77 months ago as life began to take some strange twists for me and my wife. As with any project this monumental, it would not have been accomplished without the nourishment, coaching, and support of people like the pizza delivery guy.

I would also like to thank my wife Ramona, who kept saying, "Honey, breathe deeply. You know, like you told me in the delivery room just before you passed out." I am also deeply grateful to Jeffrey, Rachael, and Stephen, three wonderful children who hang around our house sometimes encouraging me to procrastinate by saying, "Dad, how about we bring that pizza to the living room and watch Ben Hur, The Great Escape, and The Ten Commandments?

Thanks to more than forty couples who keep me in their prayers. And to Mom and Dad who talk more about me on their knees than anywhere else. Hats off to my family of friends at Prairie Bible Institute, particularly Dan and Lynn, Tim and Ruth, Vance and Sherri, James and Anne, and Ahab and Jezebel—two Labrador retrievers I walk past each day. They help me get to work on time.

Philip Yancey, Gloria Gaither, Joni Eareckson Tada, Elizabeth Elliot, Barbara Johnson and Twila Paris provided wonderful answers to my questions. Jon Detweiler, a good friend, allowed me to plagiarize a few of his paragraphs. Canadian Airlines provided numerous delays so I could complete entire chapters in fine airports everywhere. Other corporate sponsors: Lego kept my children busy while I wrote, the Coffee Break provided delicious reasons to be out to lunch, and Coca-Cola kept me awake.

If you’ve ever seen a turtle on a fence post, you know that he had to have help getting there, so I’d like to thank the fine folks at Multnomah for the lift. They nurtured this baby from day one, taking regular ultra-sounds and commenting often, "Hey, I think that’s a chapter there. I can see it moving." David Van Diest spent $6.85 on lunch for me in Denver (a fish filet sandwich) and landed this book (next time I’ll go with the steak and triple-fudge sundae). Cliff Boersma provided invaluable counsel, as well as a nice advance. Nancy Thompson talked softly and carried a big eraser. And Steve Gartner, a very wise Art Director, agreed not to put a cartoon of me on the cover. Thanks, guys, for putting me on this post.

Most of all, I thank God for entrusting me with a most precious gift. The gift of laughter. I would be building birdhouses in a home for the bewildered were it not for this gift. To think that I now make a living doing something I got the strap for throughout elementary school (helping people laugh) is downright astounding. Thank you Lord for taking a skinny little kid who recycled every cigarette butt he could get his lips around, turning me upside-down, and somehow using me. May everything I write show my thankful heart.

Finally, a great big thanks to you the reader. Your time is precious. I pledge not to waste it. Your letters of encouragement over the years were more than enough to coax me back to the delivery room one more time. Thanks for picking this baby up. I hope it behaves quite nicely.