christian fiction – Elisabeth Warner

*WARNING: If you have PTSD due to sexual abuse, this post may be difficult for you to read. Proceed with caution.

If, for some reason, your emotions have been on the fritz, try reading Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. It’s not like I have any trouble tapping into my emotions, but after reading this book, I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to feel every single emotion that the human heart could fathom.

Although this book was published in 1997, several people recommended this book to me because they know I’m writing Christian fiction. Each one of them told me it was a “good” book. Good? You all tricked me! It was exceptionally wonderful and altogether awful wrapped in five-hundred pages of an emotional roller coaster. But yeah, I guess you can describe that as “good.”

Some people did warn me that it was heavy, and I thank you for that. I just about lost my cookies on page 185.

Redeeming Love tells the story of Sarah, who was later named Angel when she was sold into prostitution at the age of eight. She finds herself in California during the California Gold Rush about ten years later, as the highest-prized prostitute in the Pair-a-Dice brothel. Through her experience dealing with customers and horrible bosses, she learns that she has no worth except what she could give to men, and that men want nothing from her except for her body. All that would change when Michael Hosea walks into her life and makes her his wife.

Without spoiling too much, the book is an example of the book of Hosea from the Bible. In that story, Hosea marries a prostitute as a means to show the people of Israel God’s love for them. When I look at Redeeming Love in that light, my heart breaks. It forces me to examine my own sin and pride, and remember how many times I have run from God and how many times I probably will still run from Him. I couldn’t help but think while reading this book that my heart is not any softer than Angel’s is.

The key in this book is the relentless love of Michael, who seeks in every moment to demonstrate God’s love to his wife. Even when she runs away, even when she commits the worst sins against him and exposes her past sins to him, he does not give up. When it is difficult for him, he turns to God and begs Him for help. His example of redeeming love helps to heal her soul. It is also obvious that God’s love is compelling him to love her, so that Angel could see the love of God and put her faith in Him.

Whenever I read a book, I like to think of my overall takeaway. So far, in the last month, two books from decades ago have made their way into my lap. Why am I reading A Handmaid’s Tale when it was written in the ’80s? Why am I reading Redeeming Love when it was written in the late ’90s? Well, I truly believe that God is challenging me to look at how much we have (or haven’t) progressed. In the ’80s, some people believed that they were one step away from a dystopia. Do we still feel that way, and if so, what can we do to change that?

Redeeming Love reminds me not to give up on those I love, even when they push me away, even when they do everything imaginable to make me angry. It also reminds me to continue to support and pray for ministries that are rescuing men, women, and children from prostitution around the world. I believe we have come a long way to show women their true worth, but I also believe that we have a long way to go. May God reveal His redeeming love to us, and help us to share that love with those around us. Amen.

Dedicated to the Dreaming Little Girl

When cleaning through my bookshelf a few months ago, I found a journal that I had to write in for school when I was in second grade. Not only was I a riot of a writer and a spunky child; I was also dedicated and I believed in myself. I did not know the Lord yet, but the Lord knew me, and he had a plan for me that I believe started with a little seed He planted deep in my heart.

On January 31, 2000 (more than 18 years ago!), my seven-year-old self wrote: “I can be a writer and write a lot of books. I will write stories at school and draw pictures, like now. And when I get to be a grown-up, I will make thousands of books.”

If only she knew what she would become. If only she knew what would happen to her. Just thinking about the goodness of God in the mess of my life brings tears to my eyes.

When I was a little girl, I loved to read. Not only did I enjoy stories, but I also enjoyed words. I prided myself in being the best reader in kindergarten, and then in getting an award for my writing in first and second grade. My dream of writing books stemmed out of my passion for reading and for words. I didn’t want to make a name for myself. I didn’t want to make money. At seven years old, I wanted to write a book that children like me would enjoy.

Don’t worry, little dreamer, your time is coming soon.

I had written those words just before my life took a turn for the worst. When I wrote these words, I didn’t know what anxiety was at the time. I didn’t know what divorce was at the time. I didn’t know that my puppy that I was excited to get would only live a few months before he was tragically hit by a car. I thought evil stepparents only existed in fairy tales. But shortly after I composed this journal, I learned the true weight of evil in the world, and I suffered greatly because of it.

I’ve written a book about a woman who struggles with anxiety and faith. At that young age of seven, I’d gone to Sunday school and had learned a foundation for my future relationship with Christ, but I did not know Him yet. This book will be what my seven-year-old self needed, the weapons she needed to slay the beasts that were attacking her poor innocent soul.

Just like my seven-year-old self predicted, I already have three other ideas for adult fiction, and I have one idea for a children’s book. It’s not quite a thousand, but it’s close.

They say that the first book is the most difficult to publish traditionally. However, once I learn the market, once I find my voice, they say it will be like clockwork. After writing the first one, I’ll be able to write thousands after that.

Don’t worry, little dreamer, your time is coming soon.

I dedicate my first novel, and every novel after that, to my seven-year-old self, the girl who believed in me when no one else did, the girl who had a dream and who wanted it to be done. If she was ever able to jump into a time machine and come talk to me now, to ask me if I ever became a writer, I want to look her straight in her innocent blue eyes, with her sweet smile, and tell her that her dream came true.

Don’t worry, little dreamer, your time is coming soon.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me thus far, and to every family member and friend that has helped me along the way. You watched this little dreamer grow up, and you know that there is no turning back now.