Josh McDowell's Official Blog

God's Will and Human Effort

2012-01-26T13:07:00.001-06:00

“When the people of North California see Senator Bellardi and Juanita Dunsmuir side by side, it won't even be a contest. During the debates, she won't have her loud music and famous friends along to charm the audience. Her liberal views will sound ridiculous next to the senator's high ideals for this state. I think the election in November will be a mere formality," Stevie said.

Jon nodded slightly. After several moments, Stevie filled the silence: "I believe I did what God wants me to do for the kids by moving up here, Jon. Remember how we prayed together for Dougie and Shawna and Collin when we first became Christians? We used to sneak into their rooms every night while they were asleep. We laid our hands on them and asked God to protect them from the 'nasty old world.' Remember?" She waited for a response.

Jon looked up. "Yeah, I remember," he said, nodding. "At least we did something right back then, didn't we?" "Now I believe our prayers were only the beginning of what we should have done. I think we should have been more responsible about protecting our kids from the evil in the world. I can almost hear God trying to answer us back then: 'Hey, I'm doing my part. But why do you think I put those kids in your hands? Use the brains and resources I gave you to protect them from the evil world.'

Shrinking Lead

2012-01-25T13:49:00.000-06:00

Jon asked Stevie, "Do you still feel good about where Dan Bellardi is headed, should he get elected?" "Oh, absolutely," Stevie answered with conviction. "This is a wise, godly man. Can you imagine a state governed by someone who is committed to biblical values? I mean, think of the situation at your school as an example: drugs sold and used in the rest rooms, gay kids holding hands and kissing in the halls, condoms distributed in health classes, kids practicing with them on bananas. That's not going to happen here. Think of how a morally positive environment will benefit our kids. And Senator Bellardi will win the election, Jon. There's just too much prayer and good work going on here for it not to happen."

"I've read that Juanita Dunsmuir continues to gain in the polls. Some writers think she'll eventually overtake the senator." Stevie shook her head. "She's still almost 15 percentage points behind with a little over three months to go. After the debates in September, the margin will widen again—perhaps to twenty or thirty points." "You really think it will?" Jon pressed. "I have no doubt,” she replied with confidence.

Talking to the Ex

2012-01-23T16:30:00.000-06:00

Stevie thought it seemed ridiculous for ex-husband, Jon, to get a motel room in Redding when he and the kids would be leaving early the next day for their vacation. So Stevie had offered him the sofa bed in the living room for the night. Jon's initial hesitancy revealed his own sense of awkwardness, but he finally accepted, saying thanks by treating the family to dinner out at the Burger Barn.

After bringing Jon up to date on everything the kids were doing, Stevie expected the conversation to fall off to an uncomfortable silence but it didn't. Jon said, "Tell me about your involvement with Daniel Bellardi." The change of topic surprised Stevie for two reasons. Judging from their limited discussions about North California politics to date, she did not think Jon was interested in hearing about her fascination with Daniel Bellardi. Rather, Stevie assumed that Jon regarded her as something of an idealistic right-wing fanatic for moving up here. Also surprising was the fact that Jon seemed as genuinely interested in listening now as he had been when asking about her work.

Love the Sinner

2012-01-12T15:58:00.000-06:00

By his own evaluation, Jon had done well at looking past personality and performance to seeing a real person. Mac, the transient at Denny's, was Exhibit A in his most recent self-evaluation. Didn't I engage him in conversation and buy him a hot meal while everyone else in the restaurant ignored him? Didn't I show the love of Christ to him without judging his lifestyle? Haven't I done this repeatedly for people like Mac?

In the last couple of weeks Jon had realized something: Unconscionable thugs like Eugene Hackett made it difficult to look past the sin to love the sinner. Jon's attitude toward the Eugenes of the world was anything but respectful.

Jon countered Eugene's evil glare with a smile. He said, "Thank God you did miss, Eugene. Good-bye and good luck." Then he left the jail. He wondered how Stevie would respond when he told her what happened at the jail. Would she be impressed at his Christian attitude? Or would she berate him for befriending the man who had almost killed her and Collin? Unsure of the answer, Jon thought it best, at least for the time being, not to say anything to her about Eugene Hackett.

Hate the Sin

2012-01-11T09:17:00.000-06:00

Eugene had not asked for forgiveness, nor did Jon expect the perpetrator to receive it graciously, if at all. Jon had come to the jail today to resolve his side of the forgiveness issue. If his action made a difference to Eugene Hackett—and he doubted that it would—all the better.

Jon stood to leave. Eugene turned to him with a leer. "What if I didn't miss? What if I snuffed them? You still say that?" The question was clearly not intended to test the depth of Jon's mercy. It was a taunt, a cruel jab aimed at an open wound.

Jon felt the pain of the verbal blow. He saw the devil in Eugene's eyes. The temptation to retaliate verbally rose like bile in Jon's throat, but he swallowed it. People might be unkind, misguided, disadvantaged, or evil in any number of ways, but they were still people—individuals created in the image of God. Appropriate consequences must be meted out for misbehavior, but those who misbehave must still be treated with respect. Hate the sin but love the sinner. How many times had he heard the pastor and others make that statement?

Forgiveness Offered

2012-01-09T12:14:00.000-06:00

"Eugene, I have a couple of things I need to get off my chest. First, I want you to know that I was very angry and upset by what happened to my wife and son on April eighth." Hackett cursed and moved to stand. The husky, middle-aged deputy standing nearby placed a firm hand on his shoulder and forced him back into his seat.

Jon nodded his thanks to the deputy and continued. "We felt traumatized and violated. The injuries to my family, and the mental and emotional pain I suffered because of it, were completely uncalled for. And the realization that they could have been more severely hurt or killed is a—" "So sue me," Hackett spat, adding vile epithets directed at Jon.

Jon saw the deputy flinch, then noticed his nostrils flare and his face redden with anger. "Eugene, you need to know that I wholeheartedly support the criminal justice system and the consequences it may impose for your behavior. The second thing I want you to know is that I forgive you for what happened. I don't hold anything against you personally. In fact, I hope and pray that you come out of this experience a better person. That's all I wanted to say."

Facing the Perpetrator

2012-01-05T15:07:00.000-06:00

"My name is Jon Van Horne," Jon said to the perpetrator across from him. He had imagined a number of ways Eugene Hackett might respond to his surprise visit in jail but the kid's response was immaterial to his purpose for being here. Hackett flashed a glimmer of recognition. "Yeah?" he challenged in a so-what tone.

A sudden flash of vengeance within Jon begged for expression. This arrogant, unconscionable jerk had come within inches of killing a nine-year-old boy and his mother. Hackett's only regret, he had boasted during a confession to police, was that he had not wasted someone in the process of shooting up the house. You are an incorrigible young thug who should be locked up and forgotten, Jon wanted to say. But I sure would enjoy knocking some of that attitude off your face before they throw away the key.

Again he corralled his hostility and forced himself back to the point of his visit. Delivering these words was even more difficult for Jon than formulating them. But he knew he had to do it.

"Eugene, I have a couple of things I need to get off my chest. First, I want you to know that I was very angry and upset by what happened to my wife and son on April eighth."

Rattler in Jail

2012-01-04T12:59:00.000-06:00

The Los Angeles County Jail housed more inmates than many state prisons. Having cleared security, Jon was admitted to the visitors' area. Waiting for the appearance of the prisoner, Jon marveled at the turnaround in attitude that had brought him here. At first, Jon demanded that the county throw the book at the kid who could have killed Stevie and Collin. He had recognized the suspect from a picture in the newspaper from a robbery: snake tattoos entwining bare arms, the gaunt face, and the hard eyes. His homeys had called him Rattler, but his name, was Eugene Hackett.

In that instant of recognition, the frightening spring break encounter at the rec center was suddenly fresh in Jon's memory. He remembered Hackett's vile taunts, his threatening behavior, the scuffle and fall that had bloodied the kid's face. In Hackett's sick mind, shooting up Jon's house and blowing away anyone inside was somehow justified because of the humiliation he had suffered in the gym at the hands of the recreation director. Jon no longer wanted the county to prosecute Eugene Hackett, he wanted to take care of Hackett himself.

When Eugene Hackett sat down on the other side of the glass and appraised the visitor, his face showed no sense of recognition but the tattoos on his scrawny arms were a dead giveaway. "What do you want?" Hackett sneered. "My name is Jon Van Horne." He waited for the kid to process the information.

Volunteering

2012-01-03T13:16:00.000-06:00

Stevie, I'm Eden Hunter-Upshaw. Thank you for coming in." The African-American woman approaching looked every bit as professional as she had sounded over the phone. Stevie suddenly felt underdressed but reminded herself that she was simply offering a couple of hours a week as a campaign volunteer. "Good to meet you in person," Stevie said, shaking hands.

The old downtown department store had been converted into Daniel Bellardi's campaign headquarters, Stevie was impressed. She halfway expected to find a noisy campaign "sweatshop." Instead, the main floor was a maze of well-dressed volunteers quietly going about their work.

After several minutes of conversation, Eden asked, "How would you like to become involved in Senator Bellardi's campaign? Carolyn tells me you've done some writing. Would you consider helping out in our communications division?" We're initiating a weekly, one-page bulletin from the senator to be delivered by fax and email to several thousand supporters and a similar one to ministers—kind of a prayer letter format.” "Like a magazine ad or a radio spot," Stevie interjected. "Exactly. Grab their attention, hit them hard and fast with the hottest topics, leave them with something to think about. That's what your work is all about, am I correct?" "It's what I do for a living," Stevie replied confidently.

Driving home, the prospect of applying her creativity and writing skills to the senator's campaign seemed like a great honor instead of a task—and it sure beat stuffing envelopes. And with Juanita Dunsmuir slowly but steadily narrowing the gap in the polls, Stevie had to do her part for the sake of her children.

We Have the Suspect

2011-12-19T09:02:00.000-06:00

Jon went to bed, but before turning out the light, he dialed his home number to check his messages. "Mr. Van Horne, this is Leta Huntsinger with the Los Angeles County District Attorney's office. I'm sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, but I thought you would be interested to know that the Los Angeles police have taken into custody a suspect in the drive-by shooting incident at your residence on April eighth. The young man was apprehended during a gang incident in the Valley. Slugs from his weapon match the slugs removed from your property in April. The gun could have changed hands several times since then, but one of the suspect's 'homeys' slipped up and implicated him in the shooting. I'd like to talk to you before Tuesday morning when the suspect will be arraigned. We need to discuss the procedures and determine your intentions about pressing charges.”

Jon's first reaction was surprise that a suspect had materialized. Drive-bys were conducted by phantoms; few were ever apprehended. Jon's second reaction was toward the faceless individual who had unleashed a burst of deadly bullets, barely missing Stevie and Collin. Of course he would press charges. Kid, he thought, you should thank God above that I'm not the one in charge of your punishment.

Pushing the Edge

2011-12-15T13:16:00.000-06:00

There was a new side to Shawna's friends. Underage drinking, apparently condoned—more like encouraged—by a so-called responsible adult. Shawna knew it happened all the time, even among good kids like her new friends. But if her mother ever found out, it would be the end of it. Shawna flashed on a mental picture of her and the beer-drinking girls being caught on the lake by the sheriff. Anticipation of the consequences made her shudder. And who knew where else Terilyn, Josie, and Alexis might push the envelope on the law and drag Shawna into it?

Shawna's mind drifted to another friend—former friend, actually—who had pushed her to the edge and gotten her into a lot of trouble. For all the excitement Destiny brought into her life, Shawna was glad to be separated from her by five hundred miles. Terilyn was not Destiny by a wide stretch, but Shawna sensed in her new friend the same magnetism to the outer limits. Why is there always someone around trying to turn me the wrong way? she asked herself.

A Daring Edge

2011-12-14T10:09:00.000-06:00

Shawna's three new friends were so nutty and uninhibited. They were so into having fun together that they did not have much time to be boy-crazy. Of course, they were interested in boys; they had all noticed the hunks at the pool and had commented and giggled about them more than once. But they were not obsessed with them the way Destiny had been. Shawna was glad for that.

Still, there was a daring edge to the girl's' outlook on life, something Shawna just could not put her finger on. Nor could she explain the inner attraction she felt to such excitement. In fact, she was not even consciously aware of it. She knew only that she wanted to stay close to the zany girls who transformed otherwise boring summer days at the pool into wild fun.

Girls Having Fun

2011-12-12T14:52:00.000-06:00

Terilyn asked, "Are you freaked that we went skinny dipping Shawna?" "Somebody could have seen you," Shawna argued weakly. Terilyn's answer shocked Shawna again. "So what if somebody saw us? So what if a perverted old fisherman out in the middle of the lake with a telescope got an eyeful? That makes it even more exciting. I hope he enjoyed it. We sure did." Terilyn continued, "It was just us girls having some fun, Shawna. It's not like there were guys there or anything. It was something different, something spontaneous and exciting and, like I said, spiritual. There aren't that many exciting places to go. So me and the girls make our own fun. We never know what we're going to do next. And we all want you to come next time."

Shawna felt torn. For her money, meeting Terilyn, Josie, and Alexis was the best thing so far about moving to Redding. The last five weeks would have been completely boring had she not hooked up with Terilyn and her friends at the Commons pool. Having been so quickly accepted by them, Shawna felt she belonged—a feeling that did not come over her often.

Skinny Dipping

2011-12-08T09:14:00.000-06:00

Terilyn said excitedly, “You can go all day without seeing a sheriff's boat on the lake. In fact, you can get back in one of those long arms of the lake and not see anybody all day. That's where we went skinny-dipping." Shawna couldn't disguise her shock. "What?" Terilyn hooted with laughter. "Yes, Miss never-done-anything-wrong. Skinny-dipping."

"In broad daylight, all of you, even Uncle Jack?" "No, silly," Terilyn said, still laughing. "It was just the three of us girls. Uncle Jack dropped us off, then he took Sweet Charlotte to find their own private little cove. We didn't plan to go skinny-dipping. It just kind of happened. Josie dared us. We dared her back. Nobody chickened out. It was so much fun. You would have loved it. It was actually a very spiritual experience, a great way to get in touch with your inner self."

I would not have loved it, Shawna objected silently. And I don't think I want to be in touch with any "inner self" that would think of something like skinny-dipping as a "spiritual experience." How embarrassing. I don't care if the cove was deserted. I don't want anybody to see me naked, not even other girls. What a dumb dare. I'm so glad I didn't go. (To be continued.)

Beer at the Lake

2011-12-05T13:39:00.000-06:00

"So how was the lake yesterday with Uncle What's-his-nose?" Shawna asked Terilyn. "It was fantastic!" Terilyn exclaimed. "We skied and tubed our brains out. Uncle Jack loved showing off his big powerboat to his new plaything, Sweet Charlotte. You have to go next time."

Terilyn went on excitedly. "We brought sandwiches and stuff, but Captain Macho sprang for a big lunch at the marina. And he had a cooler full of cold brewskis for everybody." "Brewskis?" Shawna repeated. "You mean, beer?" "Yes, in the native tongue of the North California lake people, brewski means beer," Terilyn said in a funny voice. "Are you telling me that your uncle let you drink beer?" "No, he practically forced us to drink it," Terilyn said, giggling. "That's all he had in the cooler. Ain't it a shame?"

Shawna had not taken Terilyn, Alexis, and Josie for the beer-drinking kind. She asked, "What about the sheriff? You could have been picked up."

Time with Dad

2011-12-01T10:14:00.000-06:00

"Hello?" "Terilyn, this is Shawna." “You must be back from the dead. Where have you been, girl?" Terilyn said with a laugh. "I told you: My dad came up from L.A. Me and my little brother have been with him the whole weekend, " Shawna replied. Terilyn snorted a laugh. "Doing what? I mean, what can you do with a dad for forty-eight hours straight?" Terilyn was not fond of dads in general, Shawna had learned. Both her real father and her stepfather had run out on her and her mother. "Went to the batting cages and a movie," Shawna answered. "Then ate barbecue and watched fireworks at the lake. Today we drove to the redwood forest in Mom's Cherokee. Just got back."

"Your mom let your dad drive her car?" Disbelief marked Terilyn's tone. "Of course," Shawna answered. " What's wrong with that?" "Too bizarre," Terilyn said. "If my mom loaned a car to my dad or step-dad, it would have a bomb planted in it. And me and her would fight over the remote control to see who got to make the car go boom." Shawna wrinkled her nose. "That's sick." "Not if you knew Charlie or Gil." Terilyn spat the names more than spoke them. Shawna felt badly about her own parents being divorced, but at least her dad and mom could talk to each other. She felt a little sorry for Terilyn.

Outsider

2011-11-30T12:03:00.000-06:00

The church picnic was boring and poorly attended for a church of two hundred. Not even the pastor had attended. After lunch, there were no games for the kids, no horseshoes or table games for the adults. Church members just sat around tables in the shade. Being a newcomer, Stevie was on the outside of the conversation. And being alone, she felt like a fifth wheel among so many couples and longtime friends. It was not that anyone was overtly standoffish, but Stevie could not help imagining that the words newcomer and divorcee were tattooed across her forehead. It would take some time to break into this "loving" group of Christians, she assessed.

Stevie drifted away from the picnic to the small amphitheater where preparations for the rally were almost complete. Finally, Bellardi's large entourage arrived on the platform, the band played on to the delight of the audience, which was now on its feet. Stevie's eyes flitted between the smiling candidate and his wife, standing front and center, and Wes, the young volunteer, buried three rows back in the platform crowd. She eagerly awaited the senator's address.

Suddenly Jeremiah 29:11 flashed through her mind: "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." Yes, thought Stevie, a future and a hope. . . .

Helping or Enabling

2011-11-29T14:02:00.000-06:00

Following through with her surprising decision to move north and radically change her lifestyle assured Jon that his ex-wife thought Bellardi was on the right track. Jon had not studied the issues thoroughly enough to make a decision about Senator Bellardi since he was not a resident of North California.

Jon's breakfast was placed in front of him and from the corner of his eye, he saw Mac adoring the feast. Jon made it a practice not to give money to panhandlers, but he rarely turned down an opportunity to provide food or clothing to someone in obvious need. "If you haven't eaten yet, Mac, I'd be happy to treat you to breakfast." Mac gladly accepted.

Mac probably worked the summer crowd on motel row for at least one hot meal a day. But from the vagrant's appearance, it still did not look like enough. Early on as a Christian, Jon had internalized a truth: Each disadvantaged individual is a person for whom Christ died, someone to whom the love of Christ must be displayed in practical ways. In most circumstances, Jon had little trouble buying a meal for, or simply taking a few minutes to be friendly to, someone like Mac.

Jon's eyebrows raised only slightly when Mac ordered steak and eggs with a short stack on the side and a large glass of orange juice.

Rules on Meddling

2011-11-23T13:02:00.000-06:00

"We got us a real horse race goin' here, ain't we?" Jon turned to appraise his neighbor, who was unashamedly reading over his shoulder at Denny's restaurant where he went for breakfast while the kids were at church. The man's odor, matted hair, beard, leathery skin, and threadbare clothes gave no doubt he had been a vagrant for many years.

"I'm just visiting North Cal this weekend but it looks interesting, So who's going to win this horse race?" Jon replied. Mac stirred his coffee, and said, "I know it don't look like it now, but I think that folksinger lady is gonna catch that politician and whup him by a whisker. Serves him right, too—tryin' to take over and make his own rules like he was the king of right and wrong. "You gotta have rules, but there's a difference between rules and meddlin." "What's the difference, as you see it?" Jon asked. "Well, rules is like tellin' a kid he's got to brush his teeth. Meddlin' is saying he can't do it with a red toothbrush, because a red toothbrush is evil or somethin'." Jon stifled a laugh at the man's surprising analogy.

Mac continued, "And them homosexuals, they shouldn't be foolin' around and gettin' married and the like. Men should be with women, everybody knows that. That's the rules of nature. But tellin' a homosexual, 'You can't live in our state because you're too weird, that there is meddlin'." Jon acknowledged that the man had a point. There were rules and there was meddling. Jon admired Daniel Bellardi for taking a stand on the moral issues plaguing both ends of the former state of California. But in his attempt to establish a morally sound environment in North California, had he crossed the line between enforcing rules and meddling?

Concerns about Wes

2011-11-16T16:25:00.000-06:00

The ambiance on the houseboat was so pleasant and the accommodations so near perfection that even the perpetually task-focused Daniel Bellardi took notice. Yet nothing was more pleasantly conspicuous to him than the appearance and behavior of his son. During the evening's entertainment Daniel whispered to his wife, “Wes has been marvelous this evening. Did you notice how pleasantly he greeted everyone as we introduced him, and how easily he made conversation? The haircut and the clothes made the difference," Daniel insisted. "I knew they would. Look sharp, feel sharp, be sharp.”

"He looks as if he just stepped out of Esquire," Patricia breathed with admiration. Daniel nodded. "I think even he was surprised at the change." Daniel leaned close to Patricia , "To be honest, I've been worried about Wes, how he would fit in, if he would even be interested in working with us." Patricia patted her husband's hand reassuringly. "Wes is an individual—his own person, just the way we raised him to be. But first and last, he is a Bellardi. Next to me, no one will be more proud of your victory in this campaign than Wes. And I'm certain that your son will make you just as proud of him."

Disneyland Father

2011-11-14T15:34:00.000-06:00

Apart from the delightful free time she gained from "Daddy weekend," Stevie was of two minds about Jon's surprise visit. The kids were obviously pleased to see him, and they needed to be with him. But Stevie felt Jon should have given her more time to plan and prepare—at least a few days. She would kindly but firmly insist that he avoid last-minute drop-ins in the future.

She also found herself a little uncomfortable with the greeting Jon received. Did the kids have to be so excited to see him, so eager to leave her at home alone? They acted as if they had received a weekend pass from the Redding jail. Stevie did not enjoy feeling like a jailer.

Most disturbing of all was the subtle, nagging fear that Shawna and Collin might prefer their father to her. This was the pitfall of the "Disneyland father" syndrome. Daddy breezes in, spends wads of money on the children, lets them eat anything they want, never says no, never lifts a hand of discipline. Then he disappears, and Mom is left to restore order.

Candidate Bellardi

2011-11-10T16:38:00.000-06:00

Jon's surprise visit to the children had resulted in a delightfully quiet day for Stevie. During the day, she turned on TV only once, to watch a "docu-mercial" on the gubernatorial campaign of Senator Daniel Bellardi. The one-hour presentation offered a captivating behind-the-scenes look at the candidate—devoted husband and father, successful businessman, respected and effective former state legislator, aspirant to the governor's seat in the state he helped create. The program clearly outlined Bellardi's platform of moral responsibility and traditional family values. Stevie was greatly impressed by what she saw, in both the content and quality of the presentation. She was even more eager to see and hear Senator Bellardi at Caldwell Park the next day. She hoped she would have the opportunity after the rally to shake his hand and encourage him in his endeavors.

Before Jon and the kids left for the day, Stevie and her ex-husband had compromised on the Sunday schedule. Stevie wanted the kids to attend church with her. Jon conceded, admitting that he would probably sleep in Sunday morning to recover from the all-night drive. Stevie agreed to let Shawna and Collin spend the rest of the day with Jon. The plan allowed Stevie the freedom to talk to Senator Bellardi's people at the park if she had the opportunity.

Dad Is Here

2011-11-09T12:50:00.000-06:00

Shawna had just awakened when the phone rang. "Hello?" "Good morning, Sunshine. You're up early for a Saturday." Shawna smiled at the voice and sat up in bed. "Hi, Dad," she responded. "Actually I'm not up yet. The phone woke me." "I'm sorry, honey.”

Shawna did not regret moving to North California with her mother, but she missed her father. She found it easy to talk to him. He was always so upbeat and positive. Sometimes Mom seemed more interested in what Shawna did—or did not do— than in who she was. Dad made her feel like a real person, not just a kid.

"So is it hot in the Valley this morning?" she asked. "It's already eighty degrees here, maybe ninety by now." There was a hint of mischief in her dad's voice as he answered, "I don't know. I'm at a gas station in Willows. I'll be in Redding in about an hour and a half. Where would you and Collin like to go for lunch?"

Shawna bolted upright in bed again. "Daddy! You're in North California?" "Just down the freeway honey," Jon said, chuckling at her excited response. "I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to come see you guys." Then he asked Shawna to put her mother on so he could clear the visit with her.

New Friends

2011-11-07T13:09:00.000-06:00

Shawna had met Terilyn Spradlin and her two friends, Josie and Alexis, at the Commons pool. They were all fifteen or sixteen, soon to be juniors in high school. But they had taken in the lowly sophomore like she was family. These girls were obviously not Lindley Belle material—no cheerleaders, class leaders, guy chasers. They were kind of plain, the way Shawna had expected farm girls around Redding to be. But Terilyn, Josie, and Alexis were smart and witty, and they really knew how to laugh and have a good time. Shawna found them to be uncomplicated and fun.

Most important of all, Terilyn, Josie, and Alexis were not anything like Destiny. The longer Shawna was away from L.A., the more she realized she was better off without Destiny around. Even though her new friends were not overtly religious, in that they and their families did not seem to be involved with church regularly, there did seem to be a spiritual element about them, and they certainly were not trouble magnets like Destiny. Thanks to her three new friends, Shawna's life in North California was off to a good start.

Road Trip

2011-11-02T11:53:00.000-05:00

A sudden thought froze Jon at the window. Without taking a breath, he processed it. Sunday is the Fourth, and I get Monday off. Why didn't I think of this before? After only seconds he released a breath and glanced at his watch: 11:49 P.M. "I won't be there in time for breakfast with the kids, but if I leave right now I can make it for lunch," he said aloud. "And I don't have to head home until Monday afternoon." Jon slapped his hands together triumphantly. "Yes!"

Fifteen minutes later Jon threw a small bag behind the seat of his blue Ranger pickup and drove to the all-night Chevron station on Devonshire. After filling the tank and washing the windshield, he bought a twenty-ounce cup of hot coffee and headed for Interstate 5. Reaching the freeway, he turned north for the ten-hour trek to Redding. As he gunned the Ranger up the on-ramp, Jon turned on the radio and started singing country-and-western songs at the top of his lungs.

If Only I Could ...

2011-10-31T14:04:00.000-05:00

Jon paused at the door of Dougie's old room, not daring to enter and risk an emotional breakdown. He had long since emerged from the black cloud of self-condemnation that had dogged him after Dougie's death. He had stoically acknowledged his part in allowing his older son to drift unchallenged into questionable relationships and the drugs that eventually claimed his life. As a result, Jon resolved to remain active in the lives of his other two children. But tonight he felt intense frustration prompted by five-hundred-plus miles of the Californias standing between him and the objects of his resolve.

Jon had not yet been to Redding, nor would he be able to go until the break between sessions at the recreation center. He was already planning to spend nine days up north with the kids, and Stevie had approved the visit. But that was still three weeks off, and Jon was getting crazy to see his daughter and son. If only I could cook Saturday morning breakfast for them again, he thought as he closed the drapes in his bedroom. If I could take them to church and maybe to the park.

Missing the Kids

2011-10-27T11:07:00.000-05:00

It had been over five weeks since Shawna and Collin rode away in Stevie's white Cherokee. The weekly phone calls to Redding only seemed to make Jon's loneliness more acute. He not only missed his daughter and son, he even missed his ex-wife. The dissolution of their marriage on the heels of losing their oldest son had been excruciating. Piercing resentment and cutting accusation had slashed them both deeply. Well over a year later, the emotional wounds were not healed, only sufficiently anesthetized and bandaged. The scar tissue would likely never completely disappear. The reconciliation hinted at by well-meaning friends was out of the question after what Jon and Stevie had put each other through. But sometimes, when the pain seemed far away, Jon yearned for the oneness that once characterized his life with Stevie.

Jon cleaned off the kitchen table and wedged the pizza box into the refrigerator. He shut down the house for the night, then headed for the bedroom to catch the midnight news. On the way, he found himself in Shawna's dark, empty room. Standing still and silent for a few seconds, he relived his daughter's infancy and childhood in a flash of unbidden memories. It happened in Collin's room also. The nostalgia materialized as a swollen knot of emotion in Jon's throat. He missed his kids terribly.

Divorced and Lonely

2011-10-26T11:51:00.000-05:00

Jon tossed the half-eaten third slice of gourmet veggie pizza into the box. It was a large, deep-dish pizza, enough to feed a family of four. Jon always bought a large one and saved two-thirds of it for microwave lunches. But sitting in an empty house staring at a family-sized pizza with no wife or kids around to enjoy it with him stirred up Jon's feelings of loneliness. The fact that this was a holiday weekend only made things worse.

Moving back into the house had been both a blessing and a curse for Jon. Paying down a mortgage was certainly more satisfying than investing in rent receipts, and the house was more of a real home to him than his old apartment, which he had regarded merely as a hotel room rented by the month. But at times, living in this spacious home without his kids was worse than living in that sterile apartment. Of what value is the space if there are no people to fill it? Why dust, vacuum, wash windows, or rearrange furniture if there is no one to appreciate it? Why even come home after work if only to eat in silence and stare at the walls? Tonight Jon was fresh out of satisfactory answers.

Why Debate Intolerance?

2011-10-24T15:07:00.000-05:00

"Dad, if you expect to be so far ahead in September, why challenge Dunsmuir to a debate at all? If the TV analyst Krueger is right, you may risk a big loss only weeks before the election," said Wes.

"Two things," Daniel said. "First, they challenged us. Refusing to respond to such a major plank in their platform might be perceived by the people as weakness. Second, the people of North California must understand tolerance for what it is: total disregard for moral absolutes. When they understand how the concept of tolerance undermines traditional values, they'll be ready to help us outlaw wrongs like abortion and special rights for gays and lesbians. They'll help us make North California a state that welcomes all people who live within the time-honored guidelines of moral decency. "No matter where we are in the polls come September, Wes, the debates will bring out the truth on the issue of tolerance. And the truth always wins out."

Branded Intolerant

2011-10-19T15:10:00.000-05:00

Daniel sat up straight, looking at his son, "Let me ask you something about those who preach tolerance: Are they tolerant of those they consider intolerant?" The senator continued without allowing his son a chance to answer. "No! That's where all the love and acceptance and open-mindedness falls apart. They are tolerant of the tolerant, but they are intolerant of the intolerant. Anyone who accepts moral absolutes, right and wrong, is branded as intolerant. “

“If you say to a homosexual, 'I accept you as a person, but I don't agree with your lifestyle,' then your value system—which the tolerance-mongers claim is as valid as any other—is suddenly worth nothing. But it doesn't cut both ways. You can't say that you are tolerant only if someone else's belief system doesn't directly conflict with yours.” That's the fatal flaw in Dunsmuir's argument. And I believe the people of North California will see right through it. To give an extreme example, it was complete tolerance that led to millions of Jews dying in the Holocaust. There was no moral absolute.”

Gaining in the Polls

2011-10-17T15:04:00.000-05:00

Watching his father, Wes inquired, "Dunsmuir is that vulnerable on the tolerance issue? I mean, she doesn't stand a chance?"

Daniel turned to Wes again, this time shaking his head. "First, she won't be close enough in the polls for the debates to make a difference. Second, her argument that tolerance is the greatest and most maligned virtue in America today just won't fly in this state. By making tolerance the issue of the campaign and pressing it in the debates, Juanita Dunsmuir is committing political suicide."

"So why is she gaining in the polls?" Wes challenged. Daniel cocked his head and flashed a queer smile. "Weston, whose side are you on?" Dismissing his father's curious suspicion with a laugh, Wes answered, "Your side, Dad, of course. But if I'm going to work in your campaign, I need to know the answers to these questions. If Dunsmuir is already dead meat, why does she continue to gain on you? What fatal flaw do you see that her supporters can't see?"

Tolerance v. Intolerance

2011-10-13T13:17:00.001-05:00

“Dad, if Dunsmuir is dead meat in the election for governor, why does she continue to gain on you?” Wes asked. "In a nutshell, Son, Juanita Dunsmuir's campaign will crumble because it is founded on, at best, a partial truth and, at worst, a blatant untruth. The virtue of tolerance she so vehemently promotes is no virtue at all."

After a few seconds, Wes asked, "What do you mean?" Daniel's response was strong, even passionate. "The tolerance movement insists that all value systems, worldviews, and truth-claims are equal. Every individual is free to decide what is right for him or her, and no one has the right to say, 'My way is better than yours.' To people like Dunsmuir, tolerance means accepting the values of others. Right and wrong is not the issue. The most important tenet of tolerance is an open mind, because an open mind cannot hate.

"In other words, you can't say to a woman seeking an abortion, 'I believe in your right to privacy, but you are wrong to have an abortion because you are terminating the life of an unborn child.' Neither can you say to a homosexual, 'I respect you and accept you as a person, but your lifestyle is wrong.' That's being intolerant. Instead we're supposed to say, 'I believe in your right to privacy, and it's okay if you choose to terminate the life of your unborn child' (regardless of your belief system). Neither can you say to a homosexual, 'I respect you and accept you as a person, and it's fine if you want live a homosexual lifestyle' (regardless of biblical teachings). “ To the tolerance crowd, everyone has the right to believe and live the way they choose. They do not believe that there are absolute rights and wrongs. It tends to be more about majority opinion, even if the majority is completely wrong."

Daniel's eyes were locked into his son's, as if waiting for Wes to voice his agreement. Wes only offered a slight nod and said, "Yeah, that's what I've heard."

Tolerance: Winner Take All

2011-10-12T15:28:00.000-05:00

Daniel Bellardi was flipping through the TV channels looking for more news on his campaign for governor against Juanita Dunsmuir. The local stations were into sports and weather now, and the cable news stations were on to national stories. Daniel kept rolling through the channels anyway.

"Did anyone talk about the debates tonight?" Daniel asked his son and wife. "Krueger, the guy on KRED, was building them up like the final rounds of a winner-take-all heavyweight title fight," Wes responded, watching his father surf the channels. "Not a bad analogy," Daniel said, more to himself than to his son.

"Krueger said it doesn't matter who's leading in the polls in September. Whoever wins the debates will win the fight by a knockout. He said the topic of tolerance will be the deciding factor. Whoever has the best barrage of punches on that issue will win the fight."

Settling In

2011-10-10T17:02:00.000-05:00

Leisurely baking in the early afternoon sun, Stevie turned her thoughts to the reason she had moved to Redding five weeks ago. Amidst the hassle of moving in and getting her advertising business off the ground, Stevie had had little time to follow the campaign of her new hero, gubernatorial candidate Bellardi. News reports showed the state senator still leading in the polls by 20 percentage points. If the trend continued, the two candidates could be sprinting for the finish line neck and neck by November. The remote possibility was disturbing to Stevie.

Stevie had never worked in a political campaign in her life. Considering the candidates in Los Angeles and South California to be only varying degrees of bad and worse, she had little motivation to vote, let alone jump on anyone's political bandwagon. But Bellardi was different. Here was someone she could not only support at the polls but campaign for.

But how could a rank amateur in politics hope to help a major candidate like Bellardi? Stevie intended to find out this Sunday afternoon at campaign rally in Caldwell Park. After all, she had not turned her family's world upside-down to see the moral utopia of North California evaporate before her eyes.

A New Start

2011-09-29T10:35:00.000-05:00

Stevie was pleased that Shawna's and Collin's transition to North California was proceeding well. All three of them were teary that Saturday morning in late May as they loaded the Cherokee and said their farewells to friends, soccer teammates, and neighbors. Jon only made things worse when he broke down while hugging his children good-bye. But soon after Stevie pointed the car north on Interstate 5, leaving the Los Angeles basin behind, the kids were playing the license plate game and arguing about where they wanted to stop for lunch. Most of the conversation during the ten-hour trip to Redding, North California concerned not what they had left behind but what lay ahead.

During the first weeks in their new state, Stevie involved the kids in the major decisions. Stevie secretly wanted the apartment with a nice view of Mt. Shasta, but she yielded to the kids' choice: the unit nearer the swimming pool. They also voted on where to go to church. Surprisingly, Shawna and Collin opted for a small neighborhood church. Stevie was pleased that her concerted efforts to acclimate them to their new surroundings were paying off.

Thankfully, Shawna seemed to have left her problems behind in South California. Stevie had resisted the temptation to squeeze every possible moral lesson out of the incidents. But whenever camp, Rik's emails, or the biology exam incidents came up, Shawna was sober and contrite. It pleased Stevie that her daughter apparently did regard the move north as a new start in her life.

A New Start

2011-09-28T15:02:00.000-05:00

Stevie had barely finished kitchen cleanup when Shawna called. She said, "Dad and I have been talking. It was a hard decision, but I've decided to go with you, if you still want me to." Stevie tried not to show the sudden surge of joy inside. "Yes, honey, I want very much to have you with us in Redding. But, as I said earlier, it's your decision. Is that what you really want?"

"I'm going to miss Dad a lot, and some of my friends. But like you said tonight, a new start in a new place might be a good thing. So I want to go. And would it be OK if I moved home until we leave? I can help you pack." "Of course you can come home, honey," Stevie said, barely holding herself together. "I'll come get you tomorrow morning if you like."

Shawna said little more before saying good-bye. Hanging up the phone, Stevie's eyes flooded with tears at the joyous news. I knew this was the right thing to do. Thank you, God, for directing me. We're a family again, and life is going to be wonderful for us in North California. Stevie brushed the tears from her cheek and set out for the garage to find a cardboard box. She was too excited to sleep. She had to pack at least one box tonight.

Reasons to Stay

2011-09-26T11:52:00.000-05:00

Stevie still felt surprisingly good about moving to North California. Enough time had passed for her to realize what she was leaving behind: supportive friends and neighbors, a pastor who seemed to care about her, an excellent client base, the conveniences of a large city. And, of course, there was Jon. Legally, except for obtaining his permission to move their son out of state, she was no longer dependent on him. Emotionally, not all the lines had been severed. In ways she did not fully understand, it would also be difficult to leave Los Angeles without him.

But every loss was overshadowed by one all-consuming gain: Collin would be saved from the influences that had been so detrimental to Dougie and Shawna. Having made the momentous decision after only a few days of thought, Stevie was remarkably free of misgivings. She was almost as excited to leave as Collin was.

Conflicted

2011-09-22T10:21:00.000-05:00

Stevie's next words changed everything. Still looking at Shawna, she said, "Honey, I'd like you to consider moving with us. I know we haven't hit it off too well lately. And I know you have your own problems to deal with. If you decide to stay with Dad, it's OK. But I think a move like this could give you a new start. It could give us a new start. I hope you'll think about it."

That was it—no tears, no begging, no threats, no promises. Just an invitation with monstrous implications: leave her friends, her familiar surroundings, her problems, and her dad to move to some town she had barely heard of and where she knew no one.

Having been invited to go along, Shawna did not know what to think. A part of her wanted to cry out immediately, "Please don't leave without me, Mom. I want to go with you." Another part of her resisted the thought of walking away from her friends, particularly the addictive acceptance and affection she had tasted being around people like Destiny and Rik. At this moment Shawna was not sure a new start with her mother could adequately fill her craving for excitement. She was glad she had a little time to think about it.

Mom Is Moving Away from Me

2011-09-21T10:37:00.000-05:00

Shawna did not believe anyone at the table really wanted to be there. Sooner or later one of her parents was going to drop the bomb about the biology exam incident. She still felt foolish for getting involved in Destiny's plot.

Finally, her mother put down her fork and said, "Kids, just before dinner I told your father about an important decision I've made. Now I want to tell you about it." Collin quickly blurted out, "What kind of decision?" Shawna watched his eyes flit between his mother and father, unable to disguise his hope that the announcement might be about his parents getting back together.

Stevie delivered her news with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "Collin, you and I are moving to Redding in the new state of North California." "What about you, Dad?" Collin said. "Are you moving to Redding too? You can be a counselor in one of their high schools." "No, I can't leave my job here, son," Jon said without emotion. "But I'll come up to see you as often as I can.”

Shawna felt her heart sinking. The announcement and the discussion clearly excluded her. She had been exploring ways to get closer to her mother again. Was this the punishment her parents had decided upon: her mother and brother leaving her behind and moving to another state? It had been her own doing, Shawna knew. She had stubbornly lashed out at her mother instead of owning up to her own bad choices. She had foolishly called the police and made an issue over the Child's Rights Act. She had pridefully refused to back down and avoid moving out of her own room. No wonder her mother was leaving the state without her. Shawna had conveyed in a number of ways that she did not want to be around her.

A Godly State

2011-09-20T12:58:00.000-05:00

Stevie stiffened defensively. "Jon, I am not foolish enough to believe it's going to be a perfect world moving to North California. But I have been researching Senator Bellardi and the North California movement on the Internet this week. You know as well as I do that South California is falling apart at the seams morally, and I've had it. At least up north somebody is trying to do something about all this junk in our culture, and I want to be part of it.”

"Steve, you know how politicians make promises just to get-" "The man is running on a platform of moral standards, not campaign promises. Senator Bellardi believes in everything we believe in. He is a godly man who wants to establish a godly state. This is the answer to my prayers." "There's still going to be crime and conflict," Jon interjected. "I know that. But at least someone is doing something about it there."

"My mind is made up. I'm going whether you agree with me or not." Jon walked a few steps away, huffing. "You know I could contest this in court, Stevie.” "I know," she answered. "But I'm asking you not to do that. Can't you see? This is the answer. This is the way to isolate our kids from the culture. If there were any other way, don't you think God would have shown it to us by now?"

Time to Move

2011-09-15T11:18:00.000-05:00

Stevie motioned Jon to follow her out to the sidewalk. Sufficiently away from the house, Stevie turned and faced her ex-husband to deliver the news. "Jon, I've decided to move to Redding." Jon's jaw slacked in surprise. "Move? To Redding?" He appeared equally dumbfounded at both concepts. "When? Why?"

"As soon as the semester ends, maybe sooner. Why? Because I'm sick to death of what L.A. has done to our kids—and to me. I know this is the right thing to do." Stevie continued building her case. "We lost Dougie here in the Valley. I don't want it to happen to Collin. I think he has a much better chance if we move to North California.

“Why so far away? Jon asked, stunned at the news. Redding is over five hundred miles away." Stevie slowly shook her head. "It has to be Redding. North California is going to be different. Bellardi is going to—"

"You really believe that stuff? You think that Daniel Bellardi— if he even wins the election—can make North California a moral Disney World: no drive-by shootings, no drugs, no abortions?"

A New Plan

2011-09-14T16:40:00.000-05:00

Jon's phone call thirty minutes earlier had shifted Stevie's already active thoughts into high gear. An outrageous plan had been circulating in her brain over the last three days—and a good portion of three nights. It was a proactive plan to take control of her life and surroundings again, a way to protect Collin and hopefully Shawna from the encroaching, destructive world, a way to do something right for herself and her kids instead of always trying to ward off the wrong. All she needed was the impetus to make the difficult decision.

The latest incident with Shawna was like a sign, an answer to prayer. As soon as Jon told her the news, Stevie quietly and firmly made her decision. All that remained was to explain it to Jon and Shawna, and then weather the storm that was sure to follow.

We Need to Talk

2011-09-12T15:48:00.000-05:00

The door at the end of the hall opened, and Shawna saw her father's athletic frame silhouetted against the late afternoon sunlight flooding the doorway. Another wave of remorse swept over her, but she determined not to cry again.

When her dad reached the chair where she was seated, he just looked at her. Shawna could not force herself to return the gaze. Then he touched her shoulder, not an angry touch, more of a friendly pat. "I just talked to your mother," he said. Surprisingly to Shawna, his tone was no more angry than his touch. "She wants to see us—both. She's fixing some dinner. Said she has something important to tell us." "Something important?" Shawna said. Jon shrugged. "She didn't say what it was."

Shawna and her father left the building in silence. Going to the house sounded much better to her than going back to Dad's apartment. But it still seemed strange that the four of them would be there for dinner. They had not eaten dinner together since the divorce.

Now They're Dumb Ideas

2011-09-08T13:27:00.000-05:00

Shawna guessed her parents already considered her a borderline juvenile delinquent after sneaking out of camp and the vulgar emails to and from Rik. And her mother must despise her after she called the cops on her and moved out—another dumb idea inspired by Destiny. Now she had further embarrassed her parents, especially her dad. The news about Jon Van Horne's expelled daughter would surely heat up the gossip lines in the school. Her mom and dad were not perfect, Shawna knew. But she would agree with anyone who said they did not deserve the kind of stress their daughter had brought to them over the last two months.

Shawna pulled out a used Kleenex and took another swipe at her nose. So why had she done it? she pondered painfully. Why did she do stuff she really did not want to do, stuff she wished she had not done almost as soon as she did it? Why did she keep listening to Destiny when it always seemed to get her into trouble? Why had she encouraged Rik and kept the gross stuff he sent her? And why, after all she had done to hurt her mother, could she not admit her stupidity and ask to move back to her own room? Dad was kind and fun, but Shawna had missed Mom and Collin since the first night she so pridefully walked out.

Who is Jesus. . .Reallly?

2011-09-08T09:49:00.002-05:00

Enjoyed it in spite of myself! Who is Jesus . . . Really?

First let me say as a non-Christian I was expecting something like Strobel's heavily biased The Case for Christ--but the engaging writing in this book pulled me in.

Who is Jesus. . .Really? reads like a novel centered on the conflict between faith and atheism through living characters with forcible personalities who meet and discuss what we can know about Jesus -- whether he was real, whether he was divine, etc. -- in coffee shops and other venues.

This is not a preachy, argumentative book. It's an enjoyable and very contemporary story that presents two sides of the debate over the historical Jesus and a glimpse into today's academic climate. Of course, the Christians have better arguments and are more knowledgeable in this book than the doubters and skeptics who are mostly just being outspoken and arbitrary, but I don't doubt the sincerity of the exchange.

If you aren't sure who Jesus was and would like to be convinced in your faith, Who is Jesus might get you there. No matter what you believe, this book's highly polished style, absorbing writing style and tangible characters are admirable. Derek Murphy

http://www.amazon.com/gp/pdp/profile/A2QZFUQ8ME1KYS/ref=cm_cr_pr_pdp

No More Belles

2011-09-07T12:33:00.000-05:00

Mr. Nguyen walked away without a glance after delivering Shawna and the "evidence" of stealing the exam to the vice principal. Having been expelled for the semester, Shawna was not their responsibility anymore, and it showed.

Shawna's pockets were stuffed with used tissues, and her nose was still running. She felt awful. She had never been suspended from school before. Her friends would talk about her for days, she knew. "I can't believe Shawna would steal an exam; she goes to church and everything," they would say.

Destiny and Tara would have a good laugh over Shawna's ineptness—until tomorrow when Mr. Holgate called them out of class. Shawna felt badly about that too; she had not intended to nark on the Belles. But Mr. Nguyen had asked her point-blank, "Did you get this key from Tara Marshall?" Shawna fumbled her lie and finally nodded. She had the same experience when the vice principal asked her if Destiny was part of the scheme. Tara and Destiny would probably get suspended, and neither one of them would ever speak to her again. Shawna knew she could never be a Belle now. She wished she had never tried in the first place.

Hot New Testament Debate Topic

2011-09-07T12:28:00.000-05:00

Whether the original wording of the New Testament text can be recovered has become the hottest topic of debate between Christians and non-Christians in recent years. To have two internationally-recognized New Testament scholars debate this topic at SMU is an opportunity not to be missed. The evening is sure to be stimulating, informative, and even entertaining. Already ticket sales have promised the largest gathering ever assembled to hear scholars debate this important issue. http://bit.ly/odMcfX

This Wasn't the Plan

2011-09-01T11:49:00.000-05:00

Jon considered the ramifications of his daughter's expulsion as he drove to school to pick her up. Maybe he could talk her into going back with her mother at least until summer. He released a disconsolate sigh. He felt miles away from the life he had planned for himself, for his children, for his family. He missed Dougie terribly. His older son would have been nineteen this summer, finishing his sophomore year at college. How did he slip away? Where did we lose our grip on him?

Divorce from Stevie had not been in Jon's plans. Love with Stevie was special—automatic, he had thought, not something he had to guard, nurture, and work at. Had they somehow found common ground when it came to parenting techniques, Jon and Stevie might have prevented or at least survived Dougie's drug overdose. But instead of melting them together, the tragedy and subsequent bitterness, suspicion, and blaming drove them to opposite poles. Months of solitude and reflection had caused him to wonder at times if he had been too hasty about allowing the marriage to dissolve.

Jon was not eager to break the bad news about Shawna being expelled, particularly since Stevie might implicate him as a cause. After all, this incident happened on his watch, not hers, and she had always accused him of running too loose a ship when it came to their kids. Still five minutes from the school, Jon picked up the cell phone and tapped in his ex-wife's number.

Expelled for Cheating

2011-08-31T11:51:00.001-05:00

Jon Van Horne and Curt Holgate were friends, having taught and coached together, but Curt had called as a vice principal today, not a friend. He somberly explained that Shawna had been caught in the act of stealing biology exams from the teacher's files. She was in his office now and still crying pretty hard.

Jon was immediately aware of the consequence for such misbehavior, which was automatic in the district. Curt had even apologized when announcing that Shawna would be expelled for the rest of the term. Jon said he would be at the school in twenty minutes to take her home.

Jon rubbed his forehead. It's been going so well with Shawna, and now this, he lamented silently. She was actually talking to me a little about the camp problem and Rik and getting along with her mother. We worked on homework together. She even cooked dinner for me a couple of times. She seemed like my sweet little girl again. What is going on in her brain that causes her to steal biology exams? She's not even taking biology. And why is she crying? Because she's sorry for what she did or because she got caught?

Stealing the Exam

2011-08-29T16:56:00.000-05:00

Shawna's stomach flip-flopped nervously. But thinking of Destiny and the other Belles who had proved themselves in similar ways, it was also a thrilling thing to do. Destiny's right, Shawna assured herself. I'm borrowing, not stealing. And even if the girls who study from the test are cheating—and I still think they are—at least I'm not cheating. And in just a few minutes, it will all be over and I'll be a Lindley Belle.

She found the exam right where Destiny said it would be and started making copies. Shawna's excitement mounted. Nobody would ever know about this except the Belles. And she would be a Belle before the semester ended. Shawna shoved the pages into her book bag and returned the original exam. She was halfway to the door when she heard the handle rattle. She sucked in a breath, and it froze in her chest.

Then a new sound paralyzed her with fear: a key slipping into the lock and turning. This was a stupid idea, Shawna. Why did you listen to Destiny again? Mr. Nguyen entered the room and asked, "What's going on?" Doing her best to return his stare, Shawna replied, "M-my friend, uh . . . Tara Marshall thought she left her jacket in here," she stammered. It sounded stupid as soon as she said it.

Shawna knew he could see through her flimsy excuse. Finally Mr. Nguyen extended his hand. "Let me see your book bag," he said sternly. Before she could get the bag off her shoulder, Shawna dropped her gaze and began to cry.

Borrowing or Stealing

2011-08-25T11:13:00.000-05:00

The Belles comprised a secret sorority of handpicked eighth and ninth graders at Lindley Junior High. Shawna did not know who the Belles were or exactly what they did—that really was a big secret. She did know that there were no adult advisors, but all the girls at Lindley knew that being invited to pledge the Belles was the ultimate in cool. Shawna was not positive she wanted to be a Belle, and she knew her dad would be upset if he found out. But Destiny wanted Shawna to be a Belle, and Shawna could hardly resist the magnetism of this popular, fearless classmate. "Got it," Shawna answered. "No questions.”

Destiny whispered, “Find the biology exam, make a copy of it on Nguyen's machine, then put the original back. I'll be in the quad at 4:15." "Isn't that stealing?" Shawna offered weakly. Destiny scowled at Shawna, "You're borrowing the exam. A couple of Belles in Nguyen's class need to ace this test. When I tell them you got the test for them, they'll vote you right in. Hey, it's only cheating if they see the answers. You're only borrowing the questions for them. They still have to study for the exam. Does that sound like cheating to you?" "Guess not," Shawna said.

If You Want to Be a Belle

2011-08-24T14:30:00.000-05:00

"Mr. Nguyen will be out on the baseball field until four-thirty. Make sure his room is empty, then go inside and lock the door behind you. The cabinet is right behind his desk. Unlock it with this." Destiny made sure no one was watching, then she pressed a small key into her friend's palm.

Shawna hoped Destiny did not notice how sweaty her hand was. She had not been this nervous since the night they sneaked out of camp. "Where'd you get this?" she asked, quickly jamming the key into the pocket of her jeans. She was awed that Destiny could get ahold of the key to a teacher's filing cabinet.

"Tara Marshall, Nguyen's TA this semester, and another Lindley Belle," Destiny said proudly. Then she glanced around again. "The Belles do anything for each other. They swear it. If you want to be a Belle, you do what we say—no questions. Got it?"

Status Quo

2011-08-23T11:35:00.000-05:00

Ironically, Juanita Dunsmuir is battling to retain the status quo for her home state: tolerance, legalized marijuana, gay rights, children's rights, abortion rights, clear separation between church and state. Bellardi is out to change all that. He wants to take North California back to the morals of the 1950s.

From what Stevie gathered, Bellardi shrewdly exchanged his money for influence, magically transformed his influence into public support, and bought himself a small pond: the new state of North California. He strongly believes that tolerance as our culture defines it does away with absolutes, standards, convictions, and conscience. He is banking on a hope that the people who helped him establish North California will help him create an outpost of Judeo-Christian values based not on tolerance but on love, respect, moral values, and truth.

Singer v. Politician

2011-08-18T11:36:00.000-05:00

Stevie knew little more about Juanita Dunsmuir than what she saw in the media. The singer lived hard, fast, and loose, she had heard. And Dunsmuir always seemed to align herself with political candidates Stevie opposed. But she made good music. Stevie found it hard to believe that the singer was any threat to an established political leader like Bellardi.

He expected to march into the governor's office without a threat from the unconventional and inexperienced Dunsmuir troops. But like the ragtag revolutionary colonists, Juanita Dunsmuir pops out of the bushes with her funky concerts all over the state and starts taking potshots at Bellardi. And the senator is taking some hits in the polls. The two states are under the same laws now. But if Bellardi and conservative legislators are swept into power, four years from now the laws of North California won't look anything like the laws on the books today.

Singer or Governor

2011-08-17T15:59:00.000-05:00

Once a measure was approved by Congress to divide the state, Stevie seldom gave another thought to the small new state to the north. She certainly didn't know anyone was interested in fighting over a state with no large cities, no amusement parks, and no movie or television studios. Curious, she pulled up the volume to listen.

The TV host was introducing the topic. A guest sat on either side of him. All wore business suits of blue or gray. "—there would be a contest to govern a population largely made up of conservatives who have no use for places like L.A. or San Francisco. By an act of sleight of hand, Dan Bellardi and his band of magicians made North California magically appear. And it seemed that his magic in the north would continue until the voters woke up on November second to discover that Bellardi was the state's first governor."

"But apparently, long-time activist and folksinger Juanita Dunsmuir has conjured up a way to break Bellardi's spell. Her decision to run for governor was viewed by many in politics and the entertainment industry as a publicity stunt to resuscitate record sales, that is, until she hit the road with her Freedom Tour."

Morality Challenges

2011-08-15T17:01:00.000-05:00

The city school district had sold out to values-neutral education, setting kids adrift without a moral compass. Cheating had evolved into a science, justified and practiced at some level by most students. Junior high health classes stressed safe sex for kids instead of no sex. Teachers regularly had students role-play sexual situations and practice putting condoms on bananas. Kids today seemed just as embarrassed at being labeled virgins as Stevie's generation had been at being labeled promiscuous.

Stevie believed in prayer. But for all her praying, this mountain—the godless culture in which she struggled to raise godly kids—was getting larger instead of smaller. The world had already reeled in her Dougie, and the hook apparently was set in Shawna's jaw. If God didn't give her some answers soon, Stevie held little hope that Collin would survive. God, if my baby is taken away from me too . . . Stevie lamented silently as a tide of despair ebbed nearer.

God's Silence

2011-08-10T11:39:00.000-05:00

Consciously accepting that prayer sometimes worked for her, Stevie was even more acutely aware of God's silence in response to the major petitions of her life. For all she prayed that her children would be protected from a worldly lifestyle, Stevie was worried that Shawna was being sucked right into it. There were times when Stevie had even begun to hope and pray that her family might be together again. But Shawna seemed headed in the opposite direction.

Then there was the disheartening issue of the moral climate in which her struggles were being played out. For years Stevie had prayed for godly civic leaders and tougher laws in Los Angeles County, only to see things get increasingly worse. Anarchy had already gained a foothold in south-central L.A.; even the police unofficially avoided some parts of it. Marijuana was legal for adults. A measure legalizing "brothel zones" in the county would be on the November ballot, an attempt to regulate prostitution and curb the spread of sexually transmitted diseases. The latest polls revealed that the well-financed measure had a good chance of passing.

No Immunity

2011-08-08T13:01:00.000-05:00

The fact that Stevie and Collin had escaped death at the hands of an unknown gunman was clearly an answer to prayer. And someone must have been praying for her afterward, too. Unable to work for days due to the trauma, Stevie had considered moving out of the Valley. But she kept returning to the same question: Where can we find immunity from such savagery? It pervades the entire greater Los Angeles area. So she consoled herself with the improbable odds that she could be a random target more than once. Just to be safe, she moved her bedroom furniture into Shawna's room next to Collin's room at the back of the house and beefed up the alarm system.

What Does Prayer Accomplish?

2011-08-04T16:07:00.000-05:00

Stevie analyzed what all this praying might have accomplished. One huge answer to prayer was obvious: the state had decided not to press charges against her for abusing Shawna's rights and destroying her property. The court system was so choked with serious child-abuse cases—abandonment, assault, rape, murder—that Stevie had been let off with a stern reprimand and an order to compensate Shawna for her losses.

Reflecting on the email fiasco, Stevie had to admit that her daughter's relationship with Rik might have been discovered as a result of prayer. The curious impulse to open Shawna's email, though it precipitated Shawna's departure, allowed Stevie to nip in the bud her daughter's relationship with a potential sex criminal. Yet Shawna was still gone, choosing to live with her father, something neither she nor Jon wanted. Stevie agonized daily that worldly influences and temptations might lead her daughter farther and farther away.

Doubting Prayer

2011-08-03T11:13:00.000-05:00

"How about you?" the pastor asked. He had seen her at her worst during and after the divorce. Stevie couldn't help but interpret his question as, "You're not slipping back into depression, are you?" "Really good, thank you, Pastor," she said, trying to sound upbeat.

Before turning away he gripped her shoulder and said, "We're praying for you, Stephanie." Coming from anyone else, the words might have sounded condescending. But Stevie was convinced that the pastor meant it. She just wasn't sure that it was doing any good.

Enjoying the minutes of relative tranquility while completing a mindless task, Stevie drifted back to the pastor's parting comment: "We're praying for you, Stephanie." Only people in the outer circle of her relationships called her Stephanie. He clearly saw himself as her pastor, not her friend— which was fine, because Stevie was uncomfortable calling him anything but Pastor. But his statement, and the conviction with which he had delivered it, was that of a caring friend.

A few other friends at church were praying for her too, Stevie knew. And despite her doubts and frequently flagging spirits, Stevie had not stopped praying herself. But prayers seldom progressed beyond the topic of her own needs and disappointments, and that bothered her.

Disillusioned

2011-07-19T12:41:00.000-05:00

Had Collin not come with her to attend Sunday school while she was in the worship service, Stevie would have slipped out during the pastoral prayer and gone home. Unable to do that, she was open game in the foyer after the service. On her way to pick up Collin, the pastor was suddenly in her path.

"Stephanie, it's good to see you today," he said with unimpeachable sincerity. The pastor lowered his volume discreetly. "How is Shawna doing?" Stevie didn't want to get into it. She was sorry she had mentioned Shawna's email problem and departure to the pastor when it happened. When she'd first called him to tell him about it and got the answering machine, she should have left it at that. Instead she had called back later, requesting prayer for the situation. Now he knew, and she could not very well avoid the subject. She answered in as general terms as possible: "All right, I guess. She's with Jon—probably driving him crazy." Had she spoken her true feelings at the moment, Stevie might have said, "My daughter doesn't want to live with me and I'm very upset about it. So far I've lost a husband, a son, and a daughter while attending your church. Perhaps I'd better leave while I still have Collin."

The World Is Going Crazy

2011-07-18T14:57:00.000-05:00

This is madness. The world is going to blazes around me, and my kids are going down the drain with it. The school and the community only seem to make things worse. Whatever happened to teachers and administrators and legislators who care about their constituents? Why isn't a government commission monitoring email to prevent dirtbags like Rik from electronically molesting girls like Shawna? No wonder Shawna made wrong choices. The moral fabric of the community has been reduced to shreds, and nobody will take responsibility for it.

The litany of social ills and failures nagged at Stevie. She wondered if the nicely dressed saints around her had any idea how angry she felt.

And what is my church doing about the collapse? They're wrapped up in a drive for new pews and choir robes. Where was the youth pastor when Dougie was silently crying out for help? Where were the camp leaders and counselors when Shawna was plotting her escape from camp? And I wonder if the pastor Schofield ever gets out of his library to see what is going on in the world.

Is Church Relevant?

2011-07-14T11:18:00.000-05:00

As the pastor transitioned into his third point, Stevie considered the irony. My neighborhood is a war zone, my kids' schools are cesspools of drugs and immorality, my family is falling apart, and I'm supposed to care that the high priest's tunic typifies the purity of Christ.

What does my church have to do with real life? Guns are in all the schools, and gangs rule the city at night. Marijuana is legal for 21-year-olds, hut any junior high kid can get it. Condoms are distributed by teachers in the hallways, and gays and lesbians are free to recruit followers in health classes. Right and wrong are regarded as vulgar and archaic concepts. Tolerance for virtually any value system, lifestyle, or truth-claim—pure or perverted—is backed by the courts. And my daughter can legally call the cops on me and leave home at fourteen because I "abused" her by entering her room and removing her computer monitor without her permission, destroying it in the process. (To Be Continued)

Doubting God

2011-07-13T11:05:00.000-05:00

Stevie shook her head to clear her thoughts. Such negativity toward God must surely border on blasphemy. And it wasn't that she didn't believe God's Word, but. . . how was she to reconcile it with what was taking place in her life?

It had been so different in those early years. She and Jon had truly been in love—with God, with each other, with their children, and with life in general. Every sermon had been exciting, every Scripture personal.

The events of the last four years, however, had markedly influenced her view of the church's relevance in her life. All the sermon notes she had scribbled down had not prepared her for Dougie's overdose and her second child's shocking deceit and defection, or the unexplained drive-by shooting that could have taken her own life and the life of her third child.

A Future and Hope

2011-07-07T10:00:00.000-05:00

Stevie was getting nothing out of the sermon. It had been this way for several Sundays. Not that the pastor was boring or ineffective. To the contrary, he was one of the most insightful and engaging Bible teachers Stevie had ever heard. He was the main reason she and Jon began attending the church as new Christians hungry to learn about God, faith, and the Bible.

But that was when Dougie and Shawna were small and Collin's existence was still under discussion. Her favorite Bible verse in those days was Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you,' says the Lord. 'They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.'" She almost laughed out loud as she thought of those words now. What future and what hope? she mused silently. Is this it, the best I have to look forward to?

Judeo-Christian Values

2011-06-30T10:57:00.000-05:00

The vigorous applause demonstrated that Daniel Bellardi's audience was solidly on his side. He concisely delineated a platform of Judeo-Christian values as his passport to leading North California into the twenty-first century. He repeatedly called the God-fearing people of North California to take up his banner and help him conquer the land.

Daniel smiled with pleasure and turned his attention to the cameras. "I know there are tens of thousands of people in South California and across America who are fed up with crime and immorality in the streets and disgusted with leaders who refuse to do anything about it. I have one thing to say to these people: Come to North California and help us take the promised land for freedom."

Everyone in the ballroom was on their feet and cheering wildly again. These were the people who could help him take his message of hope to the people of North California. Only one dark, persistent cloud looming on the horizon shadowed his optimism. Juanita Dunsmuir also had a growing number of North Californians applauding and cheering for her.

More Vision

2011-06-29T11:48:00.000-05:00

"I envision a state where all are welcome but where all are expected to conduct themselves according to truth, honesty, integrity, purity, and respect for people and property. I envision a state where parents are encouraged to discipline their children, not punished for doing so. I envision a state where individual rights are kept in balance by time-honored community values. Those whose lifestyle and beliefs differ from these norms must be accepted and not persecuted. But to allow these radically divergent views to be propagated as viable alternatives is to invite Goliath and his family to live next door. Our children are too precious for such a risk.

"I envision a North California where the church is separate from the state but not excluded from it. For example, Christmas isn't Christmas without the carols and pageants of the Christ-child. And the Bible and prayer are as much a part of the foundation of our country as the Declaration of Independence. Instead of banning these facets of our religious heritage, we must celebrate them with our children, while respectfully allowing any who believe otherwise to decline participation."

A State Vision

2011-06-27T14:17:00.000-05:00

"The Philistines believe that beautiful, serene North California is no different in nature than our materialistic, self-satisfying sibling to the south from which we have been politically separated. But I believe that North California is destined to be fundamentally different—governed, guided, and populated by those who will no longer tolerate the erosion of America's moral foundation." The audience affirmed the statement with applause and several more amens.

Daniel scanned the crowd, hoping to transfuse the passion of his soul into every listener in the room. "I have a vision for beautiful North California tonight, a vision of freedom. I envision a state where citizens are free to walk the streets at any time of day or night in complete safety. I envision a state where our children are free to go to school, to the mall, or to the community park without being harassed by drug dealers or propositioned by pedophiles. I envision a state where every unborn baby is guaranteed the freedom to come to term and realize the potential for which it was conceived. I envision a state where children grow up in schools and neighborhoods where right and wrong are taught and modeled by adults. I envision a state where parents do not fear the loss of their rebellious children to a ludicrous Child's Rights Act."

The Promised Land

2011-06-23T13:03:00.001-05:00

Closing the Bible, the speaker surveyed his guests. Daniel Bellardi's posture and bearing exuded dignity. His smile radiated friendship and trustworthiness. He said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I don't presume to identify the fine state of North California with Israel in these passages. And I certainly don't see myself as a twenty-first century Moses, even though I was privileged to take an active role in the so-called 'parting of the state of California' earlier this year." The laughter was gracious, mixed with a ripple of applause. "But I would be blind to miss the obvious parallels between what I have just read and what we have been called to in this grand new state of ours." Daniel casually but strategically gestured to include himself and his guests in the word we.

"Like Canaan of the Old Testament, North California, I am convinced, has been providentially prepared for those of us who believe in truth, morality, law, and order. The approval of the California legislature and Congress was no less miraculous than the parting of the Red Sea. And yet, also like Canaan, our Promised Land will not be possessed and occupied without effort. I'm not talking about a battle of swords and spears, but a clash of ideals between decent people and the undisciplined element in the land—the Philistines, if you will." The analogy got a positive rise out of the crowd. (to be continued)

Godly Values

2011-06-22T16:06:00.000-05:00

As peppermint ice cream was being served, affable media secretary thanked everyone for attending and told a couple of preacher jokes, which drew gales of laughter. Then he introduced their host, "a man loved and respected by decent, God-fearing people across our new state, a man who will lead North California in turning our nation back to morality and godly values, Senator—and soon to be Governor—Daniel Bellardi."

Stepping to the lectern, Daniel mirrored pleasure at the enthusiastic ovation from his guests. A few "Bellardi for Governor" placards appeared in the crowd, even though the evening had been promoted as a social event instead of a political rally.

Daniel began his presentation by reading a number of passages from the Bible. The Old Testament texts concerned God's oft-repeated promise of a homeland for Abraham and his progeny. Other verses recalled God's insistence that his people live righteously within the borders of their new land despite the sinful behavior of their pagan neighbors. New Testament texts cited the injunctions of Jesus and St. Paul to spread the light of righteousness and justice in a dark world. Bellardi's lengthy reading was liberally punctuated with murmurs of "yes," "amen," and "praise the Lord" from the audience.

A Godly Candidate

2011-06-20T11:57:00.000-05:00

Nearly a hundred miles to the north, Daniel Bellardi campaigned just as fervently as Juanita Dunsmuir. Crowded into the ballroom of Redding's Red Lion Hotel were almost two hundred church leaders. The campaign staff had invited every denominational leader, pastor, priest, rabbi, elder, and deacon within a hundred miles of Redding to the event, the first in a projected series of "Dinners with Dan" for religious leaders in the state. The gatherings were the brainchild of the campaign manager and media secretary and were financed by a number of Bellardi's major backers. The strategy was intended to counter the increased popularity of Juanita Dunsmuir, whom the senator's campaign staff had elevated from a mere nuisance to a mild threat to Dan Bellardi's aspirations.

The program in the ballroom did not bear any resemblance to the raucous goings-on with Juanita at the arena. The evening began with an invocation by the pastor of a large Baptist church in Redding. Background music for the complimentary chicken dinner was a selection of light classics performed by a piano instructor from College of the Siskiyous.

Dangerous Dan

2011-06-16T14:26:00.000-05:00

“I'm here to warn you that not everyone running for governor of our great state believes in the beauty of tolerance," announced candidate Juanita Dunsmuir. Anticipating her meaning, the crowd began to hoot and clap. "His name is Dan Bellardi, but I think he deserves to be called Dangerous Dan." The crowd roared with approval. "Dangerous Dan doesn't want to be governor; he wants to be warden with North Californians as his prisoners. His idea of tolerance is counting to three while you decide to believe what he believes, live the way he lives, and worship the way he worships." Laughter exploded around the arena. "I'm here tonight to say, 'Dangerous Dan, the decent people of North California are not going to let that happen.'"

The chant arose from somewhere in the crowd and rippled quickly around the arena. It happened this way at every concert during Juanita's rousing preamble as if it were planned, which many critics insisted it was. In seconds the throng was singing again, this time to Dangerous Dan Bellardi: "Adios, Tarzan, you ain't good enough for this Jane. We need more than your body, your bucks, and your brain. Your loving ain't love if all we feel is pain. So adios, Tarzan, you ain't good enough for this Jane." The band joined in and the place was rocking again.

Tolerance

2011-06-15T11:55:00.000-05:00

As the applause slowly died away, Juanita said, "I came to here tonight for three reasons. First, I'm here to show you a good time. Are you having a good time?" The response was loud and long.

"Second, I'm here to celebrate with you one of the most beautiful concepts ever to grace our free country: the virtue of tolerance." Another strong wave of applause swept over the audience. "Tolerance reminds us that every lifestyle, every belief, and every worldview held by every citizen of our great land is of equal value. Tolerance is what America's founding fathers—and mothers—had in mind when they stepped ashore here. Tolerance is the freedom we offer one another to be what we want to be, do what we want to do, and worship who we want to worship. Tolerance is what Jesus had in mind when he said, 'Judge not that you be not judged.' Tolerance, when allowed to flourish, puts an end to hatred, bigotry, and strife. And isn't that what we want for ourselves and our children in North California?" Another mountain of applause rose and fell.

Third, I'm here to warn you that not everyone running for governor of our great state believes in the beauty of tolerance."

Campaigning for Governor

2011-06-13T14:52:00.000-05:00

Reaching the mike, Juanita Dunsmuir, running for governor of the newly formed state of North California, started with an infectious song, first with her rhythmic strumming, then with her piercing voice. She opened all the campaign concerts with a medley of her biggest hits, which brought crowds to their feet cheering and clapping. The first one, "Adios, Tarzan," was her signature tune. It was an upbeat, irreverent ballad about a woman with many lovers but none who really loved her. Each time she sang the chorus, the audience joined in.

The personality in Juanita's eyes and smile sparkled to the far reaches of the small arena, charming her audience. Tobacco-chewing farmers and pot-smoking students sat side-by-side, enraptured by North California's legendary artist and activist. Roaming video cameras captured the magic and its effect on the crowd for future promotional use.

When Will It End

2011-06-09T14:40:00.000-05:00

The tumble off the bed amidst flying bullets and debris left Collin with cuts on his chin and both hands and a bad case of fright—but no gunshot wounds. Stevie's elbow throbbed from the hard landing, and she had numerous cuts on her hands, knees, and feet. The full weight of what happened—and what could have happened—hit her a few minutes later on the front lawn. With the wail of sirens growing louder in the distance, neighbors agreed that eight to ten shots had been fired at Stevie's house. No other homes on the street had been targeted.

Buckling under the emotional weight of her traumatic afternoon and evening, Stevie fell into the arms of a woman from the neighborhood she barely knew and sobbed. Cold reality pummeled her. Dougie was dead and Jon was no longer her husband, confidant, and comfort. Shawna had abandoned her, and Collin could easily have been killed in a hail of gunfire. Floundering to stay afloat in a raging current of whys, Stevie was now gripped by a question that threatened to pull her under like a riptide: When would this diabolical assault on her family ever end?

Shattered Windows

2011-06-08T17:14:00.000-05:00

Unable to see her son in the near darkness, Stevie cried out, "Collin!" She stayed on all fours searching the room for him, ignoring the cuts she was accumulating from broken glass. She found him lying on the floor on the far side of the bed. Touching his still body, her cry was frantic: "Collin!" "Mom, there's glass all over me," the boy whimpered. "Whenever I move I get another cut." Relieved to the point of tears, Stevie said, "Don't move, honey. I'll get the glass off of you in just a minute. I'm so glad you're all right."

Almost immediately, Stevie heard the voices of concerned neighbors approaching the house. The silent alarm, triggered by the shattered window, would bring the police, she knew. Perhaps the same two female officers who had been there earlier were among the contingent rushing to the scene.

Bullets Flying

2011-06-06T12:39:00.000-05:00

In the first terrifying instant, Stevie thought a killer earthquake had finally hit Los Angeles. Or was it a random shooting? In either case, survival depended upon taking cover immediately without pausing to ask questions.

Stevie reacted instinctively. "Collin! Collin! Get down!" she screamed. As glass shards and splinters rained overhead, she dived to the floor and began crawling toward the bedroom. Slugs hitting the walls sounded like mighty hammer blows. Framed pictures and knickknacks dislodged by the concussion crashed against the furniture on their way to the floor. For six more seconds the deafening barrage continued across the front of the house, round after round piercing walls, spitting chunks of glass, drywall, and wood splinters.

By the time Stevie reached the darkened bedroom, it was over. The windows there had been hit too, and shards of glass littered the bed and carpet. Invading .45 slugs had silenced the TV and blown the bedside lamp to the floor. Through the open window Stevie heard a car speed away.

Questions, No Answers

2011-06-02T16:35:00.000-05:00

Stevie ran her fingers through her hair as she replayed the events of the afternoon and evening. But every replay of the events prompted the same very real questions.

What has happened to Shawna? How can a sweet Christian child turn into a lying, conniving, gutter-minded teenager in just two years? And if God loves her, why did he let it happen?

How can a country founded on Christian principles stoop to allowing something like the Child's Rights Act to become law? What will happen to the Christian family if kids can leave whenever they feel slighted? What will become of parental discipline when it can be interpreted as child abuse?

How long will Shawna play out her defiance? Have I lost her forever, just like Dougie? Will she find a way to get together with this Rik character? Is there any way I can protect her from this pervert? Will Jon be able to—

In less than a second, a trio of .45 slugs exploded the window-panes over the kitchen sink, tore through the curtains, and slammed into the refrigerator.

Plotting Revenge

2011-06-01T15:45:00.000-05:00

Rattler collapsed the empty beer can in his hand and threw it across the dark room. Feeling his way to the bedroom, he found the hidden Colt .45 automatic and stuck it in his belt. Then he put on his trench coat and beret, and walked six blocks down the street.

"What's going on, man?" Chako said, stepping outside. The intensity in Eugene's eyes left no doubt about his purpose. "Let's go for a ride, Chako." Chako studied him. "You really have to do this?" Eugene nodded. "Tonight, man. I have to do it tonight." Chako opened the battered screen door. "OK, Rattler. Come in and have something to eat. Then we'll go for a ride and get this out of your system."

36 Oz. of Courage

2011-05-26T16:49:00.000-05:00

Eugene Hackett (Rattler from the De Soto gang) sat alone in the darkness finishing his third beer of the young evening. His uncle had left for Vegas, then the electricity and phone had been turned off due to lack of payment. Eugene cursed his uncle's stupidity. If Lyle Hackett did not get lucky in Vegas, the place would be dark until he turned a couple of good drug deals. In the meantime, there were no lights, no hot water, and no food in the house. Just beer. Lyle always had plenty of beer around.

The inconveniences and the alcohol stoked Eugene's already sour mood. Sullen idleness always seemed to bring his thoughts back to the night at the rec center. The memory of that arrogant coach who humiliated him at the rec center demanded vengeance. Eugene had held his anger for nearly two weeks, finding a twisted sense of pleasure in anticipating the moment of payback. Now, with thirty-six ounces of artificial courage goading his anger, he could no longer resist the urge.

Proud of What?

2011-05-25T08:57:00.000-05:00

Shawna had scarcely breathed since she heard the officer utter the word charges. Arrest Mom? No, this isn't supposed to happen. The cops are supposed to warn her to cut me some slack and then leave. I don't want Mom in trouble with the law. I don't want to move out. Destiny didn't tell me about this.

The senior officer addressed Shawna. "Do you have somewhere to stay?" Her mind was racing. She didn't want to leave home. She didn't want this to happen. But how could she back out now? "I'd like to stay with my dad, if it's all right with him," Shawna said. Ten minutes later, with a small bag of her possessions in hand, Shawna walked out the door with her father. She knew Destiny would be proud of her for hanging in there to the end. But Shawna felt anything but proud of herself.

Parent's Rights and Wrongs

2011-05-23T14:45:00.000-05:00

Stevie turned toward Jon with a despairing, questioning look. "CSD? A hearing? Possible charges?" she said with voice quavering. "Can they really do this, Jon?" Jon nodded slowly. "The Child Rights Act allows children fourteen and above to leave home if there is evidence of mistreatment. It happens every week at school."

"But that pornography on her computer, it was awful," Stevie argued plaintively. "And I didn't mean to break her monitor, but I had to deal with that... that trash in her E-mail." Jon shrugged to express his helplessness. "It's the law, Stevie. I don't like it, and I don't agree with it, but it's the law. There's nothing I can do."

Who's Guilty Now?

2011-05-19T13:12:00.000-05:00

The next events progressed so fast that Shawna thought she was in a time warp. She described what she knew about the computer incident to the two navy-clad Los Angeles police officers, both women. Each officer took turns briefly interviewing Shawna and her mother separately, including trips to the garage to inspect the damage. Jon and Collin were politely instructed not to interfere. Collin clung to his father, fighting back tears.

Stevie dabbed her eyes with a tissue during the process, glancing often at her daughter with pained disbelief. Shawna was torn between feelings of sadness for betraying her mother and a dogged insistence to follow through with her plan.

Finally the officers called the family together in the entry. "Based on what we have seen and heard this evening, Mrs. Van Horne," began the senior officer, a stocky Asian with black hair pulled into a short ponytail, "and in compliance with the Child's Rights Act in force in South California, your daughter must find another place to stay until CSD holds a hearing to discuss possible charges."

Called the Police

2011-05-18T10:54:00.000-05:00

The timing could not have been better, Shawna assessed. Her mother appeared at the door of her bedroom. Ashen-faced, she spoke to her ex-husband as if Shawna were invisible. "Jon, the police are here. They say Shawna called them. They want to talk with her." Jon turned to his daughter. "The police?" he said in disbelief. "Shawna, what are you thinking?"

Shawna was flooded with uncertainty. Had she actually called the police and reported being abused by her mother? It seemed like a dream now, but she had done just that less than an hour ago. Now the police were here. What would she tell them? What would they do to her? What would they do to her mom and dad? She felt Destiny egging her on. "All I want is a life of my own," Shawna repeated as she led her parents out of the room.

Hoping Destiny Is Right

2011-05-16T16:30:00.000-05:00

"Shawna, you know your mother loves you. She would never hurt you. She said she was sorry about the computer monitor; it was an accident. But she was very upset about the emails," Jon said.

Shawna heard the doorbell ring in the entry. Her heartbeat quickened at what was about to happen. She hoped it worked the way Destiny said it would. "But Mom treats me like a child, Daddy," Shawna said, hoping to coax her eyes full of tears again. "Whether she broke my computer on purpose or not, I don't really know. But she came into my room and took it without my permission, and that's not right. All I want is a life of my own."

The Wrong Right

2011-05-11T10:46:00.000-05:00

Shawna took advantage of the momentary silence during the conversation with her father about the vulgar emails from Rik. "Mom violated my rights, Daddy. I don't have to take this kind of abuse. I could move out if I wanted, and she couldn't do a thing about it." Jon cocked his head at her suspiciously. "What are you getting at, Shawna?" The look on his face revealed that he knew exactly what she was getting at. "You know," she said matter-of-factly. "The Child's Rights Act (CRA). I know all about it. You've used it to get kids at your school out of bad home situations. The school counselor told me so."

"Shawna, the CRA was designed to protect teenagers from abusive parents," Jon argued. "People who beat or rape or steal from their kids, people who force their kids into performing occult rituals or dealing drugs. It's not an excuse for kids to leave home whenever there's a disagreement or conflict." "But if a kid's rights have been violated, that's abuse. The counselor said so."

Can't Quit Now

2011-05-09T12:55:00.000-05:00

"Mom said Rik is the boy you planned to meet at camp," Shawna's dad said. "It was all in the email." Shawna knew she was in too deeply. She couldn't quit now. "That's not true. I told you, it was a joke. I never meant to go through with it. Me and Destiny were just having fun. Mom has this all bent out of shape."

For the first time since her father walked in, Shawna saw a shadow of doubt flit across his eyes. It's my word against Mom's, she thought, watching him process what she had told him. That's what you're thinking now, isn't it, Daddy? And you can't really trust the word of an ex-wife.

Guilt is Extra Baggage

2011-05-05T09:36:00.000-05:00

"Tell me about this Rik guy and the email," Jon said. Shawna had mentally rehearsed her response before her dad arrived. She looked him in the eye because she knew it was more convincing. "Daddy, it was nothing, just a computer joke, I swear. I've never even met Rik, and I don't intend to. Mom trashed my computer before I had a chance to explain. She's blowing the whole thing out of proportion."

Shawna felt a disquieting pang of guilt invade her before she finished the explanation. An excuse is the skin of a reason stuffed with a lie, one of the youth leaders at church had once said. Shawna knew her story was an excuse at best, and she didn't like how it made her feel. Destiny had told her that guilt was just extra baggage from spending too much time in church.

Mom Intentionally Broke My Computer

2011-05-04T11:12:00.000-05:00

Jon entered, dressed in a nice shirt, sport jacket, and slacks, his school counselor clothes. Shawna had always thought her dad dressed well—for an adult. He sat on the edge of the bed with elbows on knees and hands clasped. "Your mom is very upset," he said evenly.

Shawna figured it was best to stay on the offensive. "She's upset? What about me? Do you know what she did to my computer? Did she tell you she broke it into a million pieces?"

Jon stuck to his point. "Mom and I are upset about the emails she found." "She had no right to sneak into my personal stuff," Shawna whined, producing another tear.

Destiny Said To ...

2011-05-02T13:27:00.000-05:00

Shawna remembered one more thing Destiny told her to do if her mom gave her serious trouble about anything. She felt a little weird about doing it, but Destiny said it was necessary to make sure her mom gave her the space she deserved. She took her phone to a corner where she would not be heard outside her room and made one purposely tearful phone call. Then she sat down on the floor to wait.

About forty minutes later, Shawna heard her dad arrive. Listening through the door, she could hear her parents talking, but their voices were too low for her to get much of the discussion. After ten minutes, there was a soft rap on her door. She immediately recognized her father's voice when he said, "Shawna, it's me."

"Come in," she responded, sniffing loudly to keep up the abused-child act.

The New Law Protects Me

2011-04-28T11:22:00.000-05:00

Shawna was surprised and a little disappointed that her mother was holding together so well while confronting her about the emails from and to Rik. But as soon as she tried to speak, Shawna cut her off. "Get out of my room and leave me alone!" she wailed. She had never ordered her mother out of her room before, but Destiny had urged her to stand up for herself. "I'm leaving, but you definitely are not," Stevie snapped, squaring her shoulders. "You stay right here until your father arrives."

Shawna slammed the door as her mother left. Destiny hadn't said anything about how to handle her dad; Destiny didn't even know who her dad was. It doesn't matter what Dad says, Shawna coached herself as she thought Destiny might. Mom violated my privacy and damaged my personal property. Destiny said that the new law protects teenagers from such things. My school counselor said the same thing. I can live anywhere I choose. I can even live with Rik if I want to—maybe not right away, maybe after I explain everything to him. But I don't have to live here anymore. When Mom thinks I'll leave, she'll let me do what I want.

Following Destiny's Advice

2011-04-27T14:11:00.000-05:00

Shawna felt stupid for forgetting to password-protect her email that morning. She could almost hear Destiny mocking her: "What a dork! You fell from the top of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down!" What bothered Shawna even more was the look of shock and disappointment in her mother's eyes. But she knew Destiny would really rag on her if she backed down now.

Shawna lashed out at her mother venomously. "You have no right to snoop into my private things. You have no right to steal things out of my room and destroy my belongings. I'm not your slave. I'm a person, and I have rights. You violated my rights!" It took only seconds for her to work up a good cry. Her little brother Collin, who by now was watching bug-eyed from the doorway, was also tearing up at the conflict.

Misdirected Guilt

2011-04-25T12:39:00.000-05:00

In reality, Shawna had a very good idea why the monitor had been taken, but she could not imagine her mother going so far as to purposely destroy it. In the midst of her confusion about her mother's actions and her anger at having her monitor destroyed, Shawna felt a slight stab of guilt about her on-line romance with Rik being exposed. But Destiny had coached her never to admit to anything in front of her mother. "Do what you want, and don't let her hassle you," her friend had advised. "She's only human. You know she must be hiding stuff from you and from your dad and from her clients and from the IRS. So if she pressures you, scream bloody murder about your rights being violated. And if she doesn't give in, well, you know how to get what you want." Shawna envied Destiny's freedom to do what she wanted at home.

Stomping back to the bedroom where her mother stood waiting, Shawna screamed, "Why did you do this to me?" To her surprise, her mother apologized for "overreacting," then calmly described how she found the "pornographic" correspondence with Rik.

Blaming Mom

2011-04-21T10:46:00.000-05:00

Shawna's eyes opened wide. She could tell her mother had been crying. But about what? The computer? Had it been stolen? Had her mother taken it for some reason? Shawna's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she knew exactly what had happened.

Immediately going on the offensive, Shawna put her hands on her hips and cried, "You took it, didn't you? What have you done with it? I want it back!"

Stevie held her hand up. "Hold it," she said, her voice firmer than it had been a moment earlier. "Yes, Shawna, I took your computer monitor. I took it out to the garage to store it for a while, but—". Shawna pushed past her mother and ran to the garage. When she saw what was left of her computer, which was lying in pieces on the garage floor, Shawna wailed in feigned disbelief and innocence.

We Need to Talk

2011-04-20T13:00:00.000-05:00

It had been a frustrating day for Shawna. The teachers were always on her case, nagging her about being late for class, not turning her homework in on time, and a million other nit-picky things. When she had seen her mom sitting in the living room, it was obvious she was waiting for something—or someone—probably her. Whatever her mother wanted to discuss with her, Shawna was in no mood to hear about it.

That's when she saw the empty space on her desk where her computer monitor should have been. She looked around her room in disbelief. How could something like a computer monitor disappear? Where could it be? How. .. ? What... ? Her mom. It had to have something to do with her mom. That must be what she had been waiting to talk with her about. Shawna reached out and was just about to fling open her door and go charging out to confront her mother when she heard a knock. "Shawna? May I come in?" The door opened slightly. "We need to talk," Stevie said, poking her head into her daughter's room.

Committed to What?

2011-04-18T14:36:00.000-05:00

Jon agreed to help his ex-wife talk to their 14 year old daughter about the vulgar, sexual emails to and from a guy named Rik who was in his 20's. Stevie, dreading the conversation, said, "I'm sure Shawna will be in her room ranting and raving at the empty space where her computer monitor once sat." Upon hearing Stevie's lightened tone, Jon smiled in spite of the situation. If their tragic experience with their son's overdose had done anything for them, it had made them more resilient. Stevie would get through this episode all right, and so would he. Jon hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead. There was more to deal with here than just Shawna. Stevie had turned to him for advice and consolation, something she had done only a few times since the split. Jon could not deny that such expressions of need stirred up the guardian and protector in him. Only fourteen months earlier they had renounced their commitment to each other. If those commitments were truly ended, Jon wondered why, at moments like these, there was not more distance between him and his ex-wife.

I Need Some Help

2011-04-14T15:04:00.000-05:00

"I'm afraid I overreacted," Stevie said, sounding defeated. If only I'd stayed calm—". Stevie's ex-husband Jon interrupted, trying to console her, "It was a natural response. If I'd come across those filthy emails between Rik and Shawna I'd probably have done the same thing—or worse." "I'm her mother, but how am I supposed to deal with this situation? I have to confront Shawna about her involvement with this Rik person, but all she's going to want to talk about is her ruined computer." "Deal with it just like we taught the kids," Jon said. "'When you mess up, 'fess up and make it right.' That's what we always told them, didn't we? So you apologize for what happened to the computer because of your overreaction, then move on to the real issue." Stevie responded with a silence that communicated volumes. Jon had been with her enough years to know exactly what she wanted. Finally, he asked, "Do you want me to come over later and talk to her?" "Yes, please," Stevie said immediately. "This is a big deal, and I'm in over my head emotionally. I think we both need to be involved. Shawna will be home any minute. How soon can you be here?"

Telling the Ex

2011-04-13T15:21:00.000-05:00

Jon, Stevie's ex-husband, had another harrowing day on the high school campus. He had talked two girls out of slashing each other with razor blades and called in the cops on another kid who had been suspended but refused to leave the campus. Drugs, weapons, and gang activity on campus injured kids every week. Jon sometimes thought about changing his resume to read "prison guard" instead of "school counselor." He was just leaving his office when the phone rang. There was no greeting, just, "I messed up, Jon. I really messed up." “What do you mean, Stevie?” Jon asked. His ex-wife, who was clearly upset but thankfully not hysterical, took a breath and summarized Rik's messages, including samples of his vulgarity. Jon felt his skin flush with anger and the anger turned to bitter bile in the pit of his stomach. Self-control was one of his strengths, but he realized that this jerk named Rik was lucky not to be alone in the same room with him at that moment. Jon's disappointment congealed into an impromptu prayer. Dear Jesus, how could my little girl get involved with a creep like Rik? Where is this foul language coming from? What else does she know about love and sex? What has she actually experienced? She's only fourteen.

Mom Has Gone Crazy

2011-04-11T09:29:00.000-05:00

Awash in anger, remorse, and self-condemnation for reading her daughter's emails, Stevie reached behind the desk and, with shaking hands, scooped up the computer and carried it, cords dangling, until she had more time to consider her next move. For now, she knew only that she had no intention of allowing this disgusting email "romance" to continue. Still shaking, she turned, tripped over one of the dangling cables, and the computer shattered as it hit the floor. Stevie gasped. She had meant to remove Shawna's computer, but certainly not to destroy it. Now what would she do? Trembling, she collapsed into a chair in front of the fireplace, and began to weep. The last several minutes had seemed like a bad dream. But having experienced the same feelings countless times after Dougie's death, she knew this was not a dream. And the situation was not going to go away. Shawna would walk through the doorway in twenty minutes, and Stevie had no idea what she was going to say to her.

Shawna's Reply

2011-04-07T12:05:00.000-05:00

Every email from Rik—including the most offensive ones—was followed by a reply from Shawna. Shawna's terminology was not as raw as Rik's, but Stevie was appalled at the suggestive words and phrases her daughter had used to stoke the fire in her perverted suitor. Most disturbing was the realization that Rik was in his twenties, and that he was the one with whom Shawna had intended to rendezvous at camp. Having read every word in the folder, Stevie pushed the chair back from the desk. She felt dirty inside and out, violated, as if Rik's blatant overtures had been directed at her. She also felt terrified for Shawna, who was still a naive child, clueless to the danger of encouraging perverts like Rik. Stevie was stunned by the realization that she had unwittingly facilitated the sordid tryst by encouraging Shawna's computer literacy.