“Whaddya, writing a book?”
That’s what my big brother, Joe, would say to me when he was home on leave from military college. Apparently it was the standard retort upperclassmen used to silence inquisitive plebes.
At long last I can say yes.
I finished writing The Promise of Hope last fall after a year or so of work, often on weekends or late at night, when I’d sometimes get an aggrieved call from my wife, Julee, asking, “How’s War and Peace coming?”
Tolstoy I’m not, but I do think it’s a pretty good book because the process forced me to be honest about the reasons I was writing the book. Again, Julee played a role. When I told Julee I planned to write about some of the inspiring people whose stories I’d helped tell in Guideposts, she asked, “You’re going to include your own story, right?”
I hadn’t planned to. Julee looked dismayed. “You’re trying to help people, I assume? Then tell your story too. Your story is why I married you.”
So I did, starting with the day that—for reasons I can’t fully fathom—I wandered into the Guideposts offices, desperate for a job. I talk about what led to that point and reveal my personal struggles finding my faith. I journey back to my childhood where I rediscover the love of my family, and share how I found a new sort of family at Guideposts.
This is as much a book about you as me, about your incredible stories of hope and inspiration, and how they changed me, literally how they saved me. I describe this journey of change and identify the 9 steps to powerful personal renewal.
Yes, there is a reason I ended up at Guideposts, and this book might be it.
