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"After a lifetime of ministry there are not many surprises left-always new joys and new sorrows, but not many complete surprises. Imagine my surprise when I was so captivated by CJ Tanner's book that I read it through in one unbroken sitting. The Power House is a remarkable story of a pastor and wife who witnessed the life-transforming power of God. Each chapter is like a fresh visitation of the Holy Spirit. I commend this novel to you. It will interest, awaken, and challenge you. It is a life lived in constant awareness that God not only cares, but that He is intimately and powerfully involved in the lives of people."
Dr. Dan Baumann
(Pastor and Author)
"I want writers to help me board a plane and fly toward a land I know about, but can see
from the air of their words in new ways. That is how I felt reading The Power House. I hear the conversations and observe the facial expressions. In her narrative, CJ Tanner gives readers a glance at real issues about life's difficulties and ultimate victory. She helps us learn to endure and face what awaits us, knowing the ultimate victory. Get on the plane and enjoy the flight."
Chris Maxwell,
Pastor and Author chrismaxwellweb.com
"In her book, The Power House, CJ Tanner captures the real life of the average pastor in the sense that there are always problems and challenges involved with the people that God puts in the pastor's life. Her emphasis on prayer being essential to the Christian walk is clear. The best thing about this story is that you want to see what the characters are going to do next-on the next page, and in the next chapter. I encourage you to give strong consideration to reading this book!
Timothy B. Wildmon,
President/ American Family Association
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LOST AND FOUND
CHAPTER ONE
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The long journey to Napa from St. Louis on the hot, overcrowded train exhausted Elisabeth. Seeing her father waiting on the platform boosted her spirits, but did little to relieve the fatigue of riding in the coach car halfway across the country.
A group of drunk and disorderly men had spent numerous hours drinking in the smoke filled dining car, and caused quite a scene when the train arrived at the station in Napa.
Elisabeth, along with many others, waited until the men left the platform before she disembarked. There was some confusion in getting the luggage distributed, which caused everyone further delay in the time it took for them to be able to leave the station.
Although Elisabeth was eager to return to the home she left five years earlier, the emotional conflict of returning to Napa was overwhelming. Through the joy of seeing her father came a keen sense of loss, with the realization that her mother would not be there to welcome her home.
This was the first time since arriving the day before that she was able to fully relax. As she sat with her eyes closed, feeling the warm sun falling softly on her face, she could hear the constant droning of bees coming from their hives behind the barn.
The slow, steady creaking of the front porch swing, combined with the still, heavy heat of the summer's day, lulled Elisabeth into a lazy, sleepy state.
Suddenly, her head jerked forward, as she was awakened by the sound of an automobile engine. Raising her hand to shade her eyes from the sun, she looked towards the west, where dust was coming from the road. The dust indicated they were about to have a visitor, as the gravel road ended at her father's house.
Squinting against the afternoon sun, she recognized the old rusty truck that Mr. Spears had always driven when delivering the mail. She expected it to stop at the mailbox at the end of the drive, however, the truck continued towards the house.
Elisabeth eased from her lounging position in the swing, watching the old man get out of the truck. She stepped to the front of the porch to greet him, as he shuffled slowly and painfully up the steps, grimacing with each movement.
"Afternoon, Elisabeth," he said, removing his old felt hat.
"Or, should I be calling you Dr. Wallace, now that you are a veterinarian?" he asked, showing a toothless smile.
"It's really good to see you home again, after all these years, my dear. Too bad you didn't decide to be a regular doctor, though. I could sure use some help with this old rheumatism."
He rubbed his hip and then, turned his head towards the end of the porch, spitting tobacco juice on the ground. Grinning widely, he held out his arms to embrace Elisabeth.
"It's good to see you, too, Mr. Spears," replied Elisabeth, as she stepped forward to give him a hug. She noticed some tobacco juice dripping from the corner of his mouth, and tried not to wince when she felt the wetness of the tobacco, along with his grizzled beard, as he gave her a welcoming kiss.
Trying to appear as casual as possible, she used her small lace handkerchief to dab at the wet spot on her cheek where he had kissed her.
"I never expected to see you out this way again, Mr. Spears. I thought you gave up the mail route years ago," she managed to say, with a smile.
"Well, I did, I did just that. I gave up the route a couple years back. Just got too hard for me, getting in and out of the truck, what with this old rheumatism. Lionel took on the job of running the post office after Louis Camp died last spring. He got Emmitt Sanders to take over my old mail route. Emmitt's down in his back this week, though, so Lionel asked me to help him out. I was glad to do it, but it sure isn't as easy as it used to be, what with this old rheumatism and all. But, then I reckon I already mentioned that, didn't I?" he chuckled.
Elisabeth felt herself cringe at the mention of Lionel Spears. For a moment, she let her thoughts drift back in time.
She had never liked Lionel. He had been a bully when they were young children, but during his teenage years, he had begun to be crude and obnoxious, especially to girls, and he went out of his way to make Elisabeth his favorite target.
He had taunted her with comments like, "Lizzie Luscious Lips." When she refused to respond to his taunts, he called her "Queen Elisabeth," as he marched around, holding his nose up in the air with his index finger, mocking her.
She recalled something that happened when she was sixteen. She had stayed after school to talk with her teacher about an idea for the school play. Her friends had gone ahead, so she was walking home alone. Lionel surprised her by jumping from behind a tree, grabbing her, and trying to kiss her on the mouth.
She could still remember how frightened she had been, at first. Then, she had gotten angry and as she pulled away, she slapped him across the mouth before running home to tell her parents. The thought of the incident caused her to frown, even now.
"But, that was years ago, and I have to remember that we are no longer children. Lionel is a grown man now. After all, he is in charge of running the post office. Hopefully, he has outgrown those ugly ways of his. I have certainly prayed many times for him to grow up," she thought.
Elisabeth broke away from her thoughts of Lionel and tried to focus on what Mr. Spears was saying.
"Yeah, he sent me on an errand this morning, asked me to bring this letter out to your father. Ironic, though, I reckon, because, actually, the letter is addressed to you. I didn't expect to see you here just yet, 'though I heard you were coming home. I don't reckon I need tell you, Elisabeth, it usually doesn't take us this long to deliver a letter."
He chuckled nervously, trying to make a joke about the delivery of the letter being late, and then walked to the edge of the porch, once again, to spit tobacco juice. He withdrew an envelope from his shirt pocket, studying it carefully before handing it to a curious Elisabeth.
"Notice the postmark? Dated five years ago. I found it this morning when we pulled out the old cabinets down at the post office, so as to begin the renovation."
Glancing at the letter, Elisabeth immediately recognized the handwriting. She gasped, drawing a deep breath, then fell against the post where she stood, clutching the letter to her chest.
"Oh, dear God," Elisabeth thought. "Albert. This letter is from Albert."
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