Through betrayals and loss and her search for redemption an idealistic journalist becomes the unlikely co-host to a television evangelist bent on becoming the president of the United States. When her past catches up to her, she is caught in the cross hairs of politics and religion.
How do you fall in love in a day and make it last a lifetime? Here is part of the story. . .
On a 2,200 mile bicycle ride I learned a new mythology.
The snakes and the swamp didn't help lift my spirits as a TV evangelist in Virginia Beach.
My father was a son-of-a-bitch, except when he wasn't. People loved him, including my mother, whether he deserved it or not. We made many excuses for his behavior--his experiences in the war, his talent, his creativity, his charm. And he got away with it all. . .
Bonking means I was close to collapsing. I rode 2,200 miles on a bicycle-- part of my recovery from fundamentalism. It not only knocked the stuffing out of me, but it restored me, heart and soul. This did not come without a massive effort, and learning just how critical food was to legs and lungs.
I didn't expect to heal anyone. For Pentecostals it is called having a Word of Knowledge--an impression or a sign or a message from the Lord to impart to believers. In this excerpt from the book, I explain how it happened to me and to someone who "claimed" it.
Dangerously close to dying if we made a mistake. In this excerpt, we take the wrong road in the snow. Rather than heading south to Anchorage, we speed towards Fairbanks and close in on the Arctic Circle....brrrrrrrr!
If we were able to save ourselves through prayer, were we liable for the lives it took?
We are escaping to Alaska. My mother and I are driving a borrowed car with no snow tires, and a faulty heater in the depths of the worst winter of the decade across four thousand miles of Arctic tundra.To complicate matters, we had a 4 month old baby and a 4 year old in the backseat. The Alaska Canada Highway, the infamous ALCAN, built during World War II to protect the United States from a possible Japanese invasion, was only 24 years old. There were no guard rails, no signs, few gas stations and terrible, rickety timber bridges over gaping chasms of boulders and icy ravines. This scene from the chapter entitled, Bridges, depicts our challenges at one of these crossings. Buckle up!
I was the co-host on The 700 Club with Pat Robertson for five years during the time Pat had decided to run for president of the United States. It was a heady time for TV evangelists, and The 700 Club was the top of the heap in money and prestige. I was new to this game of evangelism, having tripped into my position unwittingly, and I had a lot to learn.
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