When Your Candle Burns At Both Ends

“My candle burns at both ends it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - It gives a lovely light.” Edna St. Vincent Millay

How many times have I quoted this poem, but never have I felt the force of it until now.

It’s November! So much has been happening … here’s the latest update, in case you haven’t seen it! (And be sure to see the pictures at the end of this post!)

A very nice review from Publishers Weekly!

“Cable's unflinching fictional exposé of the dark side of televangelism has a human victim in the person of Andie Oliver. … Cable, a former member of a megachurch, places Andie's desperate struggle against the oppression of (Reverend) Artury's church, its brutal inner circle, murderous practices, financial fraud, and (husband) Joe's abuse. This powerful story, skillfully written and with well-drawn characters, reveals the classic entrapment of vulnerable people in the name of a vengeful god …” PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

The hurricane is over in most parts of the US, but I think mine is just beginning. I’m leaving again tomorrow for two weeks of book signings and interviews throughout the south … Atlanta, Georgia, the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Outer Banks, and Mobile, Alabama.

Please pray for me next Wednesday, Nov. 7^th. In one day I’ll have a live interview with WYRQ FM in Little Falls, MN at 8:00 am EST, a blog post on http://blog.juliealindsey.com/, an interview on CBS Atlanta TV (which will air on Sunday, Nov. 11^th  at 10:30 am)  an interview with Vipp Jaswall on Fox News Radio http://radio.foxnews.com/category/podcasts/the-vipp-jaswal-report (to be announced as to air date) and a book signing at Charis Books in Atlanta at 7:30 pm Nov. 7^th.

You would think I was twenty-five again, and running after my career! My twenties are gone by the wayside, by I’m still chasing that dream.

My appearances, past and future, as well as radio interview links, book trailers, and book excerpts can be found on my web site. www.pamelakingcable.com. The blog tours are also online with links to some really great book bloggers.

What has been a thrill are the reviews. My status on Amazon and my Alexa rating climbs higher every day. The book has gone national and international in a month. I'm humbled. Grateful. And now there are rumblings from the movie industry. So who knows where this road will take me. I'm grateful for my family, a great publisher, and readers I hear from each and every day along the way.

I’m consumed by it all. Actually, I work even harder on the road. Moving in and out of one hotel after another, setting up a desk area, working on my laptop instead of my home pc, trying to get enough sleep, eating food I'd rather not. Who said it was going to be easy? It wasn’t easy for Southern Fried Women, and it’s even tougher now. The schedule is heavier, with bigger venues, and more media interviews. But Televenge is moving at a steady pace. The climb is daunting at times. We’re always praying the weather cooperates. And all the while, I’m still writing. I’m still editing the finished second novel, and writing the first draft of the third.

Still, I can’t imagine doing anything else. After the holidays, we head west. All the way to California and back. Speaking and signing books. Below are priceless memories along the way …

And it's only just begun ...

Blessings to you and yours.

 

I'm Booked for Fox News Radio!

I’m most fortunate and thrilled to have been booked for an important interview with Fox News Radio, New York City. Mr. Vipp Jaswall will be interviewing me next week about the business of televangelism, my life, my beliefs, and my book.

Vipp will focus on specific points of interest including …

• If you had only one choice whom would you choose? God or family?
• Should your pastor dictate your belief for a guaranteed one-way ticket to Heaven?
• If you believe in separation of church and state, do you also believe in separation of church and culture?

As soon as I am made aware of the date of this pod cast I’ll let you know, as well as give you a specific link to click that will take you right to the interview, so stay tuned!

In the meantime, please enjoy the pod casts on Vipp Jaswall’s page. You’ll hear conversations that will provoke questions only you have the answers to. He really makes people think. I love his peanut-butter fudge voice. Smooth and rich with a touch of salt! It’s like getting interviewed by James Bond!

 Here is the link: http://radio.foxnews.com/category/podcasts/the-vipp-jaswal-report

 

 

When Do You Leave Your Church?

 



My daughter, Jillian, and me. I love her hands. They look like mine. A mother never lets go of her children's hands.

My parents took me to Sunday school, revivals, and holy-rolling church services from the time I was in diapers. I don't remember my first church experience. But I do recall when my parents began to attend a large church near our home. I was eight. A fountain loomed into the sky on the mammoth front lawn of the church. At night after a long, hot church service, a bunch of us knobby-kneed kids would play under the fountain's cool water spray that turned colors in the dark. Pink, blue, green, and finally we stood in awe as fake blood trickled down the illuminated white cross in its center. On the cross was the word "LIFE." It was exactly what that church took from us. Our lives.

We were taught to resist the devil so he would flee. Turn our backs on society, because society would send our souls to Hell. We were told to pray for those we admonished, because until they walked inside our sanctuary and received Jesus as their savior, they were all doomed. We were right, they were wrong. We were good, they were evil. We were the elect of God because we spoke in tongues, they would never make the rapture. We had come out from among them and lived where the healing water flowed.

We gave our last dime and saw the blessings of the Lord in everything. A sale on pantyhose, a bigger tax return than we expected, a great parking spot at the grocery store, a found five-dollar bill at the bottom of our purse. We worked out our salvation in fear and trembling and never, ever doubted the Bible, our salvation, and most of all, our pastor.

We testified to the godless, but never associated with them, unless they joined our church. Not another church. OUR church. And we never cast our pearls before the swine.

I grew up in doctrine and dogma, until one day after I turned seventeen and married my childhood sweetheart, my parents decided they'd had enough. They left the church for good.

But my mother never let go of my hand.

I was to shun my folks, "give 'em a good lettin' alone!" I knew my parents wished they had never stepped foot in that church, but it was too late for me. I was married to it. The relationship with my parents became strained.

I continued to attend what had become a megachurch, striving to please, wanting to be one of them, hoping for good things to happen, believing the blessings of the Lord were right around the corner. I was held over Hell on many occasions when they felt me pulling away. But I always came back, falling to my face at the altar. I had surrendered all. All to Jesus I surrendered, always hoping He would notice and reward me for it. My faith wavered, but I was proud. My husband was on the ministry team, my children were active in the children's church, and I never talked much about our church life to my mom. It was a sore spot.

But my mother continued to pray for me.

As my children grew, they were discouraged by the church to attend Friday night school or social functions. (Our big church service was on Friday nights.) The fear of God had been planted in them. One day, something magical happened. I saw in them what my mother had seen in me. Bondage. It grieved me. I began to pull away. Slowly. It took time, but I wanted to do it before my children became fully indoctrinated. Before I lost them, as my mother had lost me for a time. I wanted to give them a choice. Freedom. And that's when I realized ... I should have left that place long before I did.

The years following were a nightmare. For all of us. I kept waiting for the time I would drop dead and fall into Hell. But it never happened. And it took a long time to shake the fact that I could not convince my husband to compromise. He chose his God and his pastor over me. I had become a contaminant. He did not need to understand me, and there was no reason to try. I was not redeemable. I was, in fact, the dog who returned to its vomit. My fate was sealed. I was dead already.

It took years, but one day I woke up to find my hand had never slipped from God's hand. Through my mother, He had held on to me. I had clawed my way out of the darkness and into the light of God's grace.

Many churches do not hurt. Their members are free to experience life in and outside the church. The church family is an extension of their own. If you belong to that kind of church, consider yourself greatly blessed.

But if your spirit is grieved and hurting, something is wrong. When should you leave your church? I think inside you know the answer to that question. Look into your children's eyes and answer it for yourself. Then you'll know.

Blessings to you and yours.

Would You Drink the Kool-Aid?



 

 

Isn't is amazing that you know to what I am referring?

'Drinking the Kool-Aid' in urban slang, has nothing to do with that wonderful, fruity drink we guzzled by the gallon when we were kids. It refers to the 1978 cult mass-suicide in Jonestown, Guyana. Televangelist, Jim Jones, took cyanide and some kind of sedative and mixed it with Kool-Aid to poison his massive following at Jonestown. It may have been Flavor Aid, but no matter what he used, we know what it means when somebody says, "Don't drink the Kool-Aid!"

I watch a great deal of religious TV, mostly because it's what I write about. Some of it moves me, most of it—does not. Watching one particular televangelist recently, I was moved to tears. Not because of what he was saying, singing, or pushing. It was the faces in the crowd that kept me glued to the screen. Each face was wet with tears. Those precious people, reaching out for hope, for a healing, for God. Their hands raised, these folks had come to that great arena to worship, receive a blessing, and touch the hem of their Creator. It grieved me so, I eventually had to change the channel.

I sure hope that televangelist knows the tremendous responsibility on his shoulders. I wonder.

The new face of televangelism is still pretty much the old face. One of prosperity messages and miracles. The difference is that the audience has grown by mega leaps and mega bounds. In a bad economy, a great majority turns to God for help. They’re attracted by those prosperity messages. The problem as I see it, televangelists can lead sheep to the slaughter like nothing and no one else. They can bring out the tears and sell God better than Tony the Tiger sells cornflakes. They can whip up a batch of Kool-Aid, knowing millions of honest hearts would drink it. And for some reason, we Christians are hesitant to hold our pastors accountable for what they say and do. They don't have to be perfect. In fact, I'd prefer if they were not. But we tend to overlook these rock stars of religion, and confuse the human with the divine, believing every word they speak comes from The Almighty.

Many years ago, I never missed church. I believed, tithed, raised my hands in every service, answered hundreds of altar calls, and gave love offerings instead of paying my light bill. I trusted and obeyed. Sowed my prosperity seeds and read every prosperity scripture over and over again. I gave out of my need. For years I lined the pockets of a pastor who traveled around the world, taking my husband with him, leaving me to suffer alone at home. Until one day I asked myself this question. Do I feed my kids or pay my tithe? I fed my kids.

For years I had loved my preacher, believed in my pastor, and gave everything I had, including my spouse, to the televangelist my pastor had become. In the end, it didn’t matter because I rebelled and “sealed my fate.” I was rejected, divorced, and eventually homeless.

Is there such a thing as a good televangelist? No doubt some possess honest hearts with admirable intentions. But it’s tough to retain those intentions, that good heart, the humility required and pay for expensive TV time. I speak from experience. Be careful. Don’t be a gullible Christian. The wolves are still out there. And so is the Kool-Aid.

 

Blessings to you and yours.