The Path (eBook)

What if the Way of Jesus is Different than You Thought?

Robby Angle, Brittany Coulson, Benjamin Crawshaw, Bruce McNicol (Autoren)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
248 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-9860131-7-6 (ISBN)

Infos

Told through a compelling mix of fictional storytelling and practical teaching, The Path takes you on a journey to explore what it truly means to follow Jesus. Through relatable characters and vivid metaphors, this book answers eight essential questions every follower of Jesus-whether new or seasoned-faces along the way. What You'll Experience: - A captivating story that mirrors the adventure of following Jesus - Biblical truths woven seamlessly into a fictional journey - Practical answers to deep questions about identity, purpose, and faith - Encouragement for new believers and seasoned followers alike Life is not meant to be walked alone. The Path invites you to take the next step-embracing the adventure, discovering purpose, and experiencing Jesus as your ultimate guide. Start your journey. The Path is waiting. Designed for Gen-Z readers and anyone longing for a fresh perspective, The Path combines the power of story with life-changing truths. It meets you wherever you are on your spiritual journey-whether you're taking your first steps in faith, feeling stuck along the way, or needing encouragement to keep moving forward. From the Back Cover: You think the next thing will fix it. Fix the anxiety, the loneliness, the pressure. I thought so, too. My name is Tal, and I was one of the best young architects in the city. But with each new accomplishment and milestone, I found myself left with more questions than answers. What if there's more? What if it isn't all on me? What if God isn't who I think he is, and neither am I? Walk with me through friendship, purpose, shame, trust, and true identity. This is The Path.

Dr. Bruce McNicol serves as the founding partner and President Emeritus of Trueface. Leaders in all spheres of influence have found God's lasting resolution for their life issues and key relationships as they have journeyed with Bruce. With degrees in finance law, theology, leadership, and organizational development, Bruce's gifting to write to diverse readers and leaders has proved true in the best-sellers he has co-authored, including The Cure, The Ascent of a Leader, Bo's Café and others. Audiences in various countries continue discovering hope and freedom from Bruce's story-driven, biblically-anchored teaching.

Textauszug

1

THE CITY

If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.

— C.S. LEWIS

All good journeys begin with a few good directions, and most exciting journeys include a lot of missing ones.

Fellow traveler, as we walk together into the pages ahead we will journey through a world that is like our world but not our world, a land that is everywhere and nowhere. We will meet individuals who are at once impossible, unusual, and yet oddly familiar. We may have known them by another name. We might not know them at all. But in all the familiarity and mystery of this story, we offer the age-old invitation . . .

“Come and see.”

It was a crisp fall night. I was eleven.

Like most evenings, I was sketching at the well-worn kitchen table, the fire already lit and my mother kneading dough for dinner. My father walked in, a blast of chilled air coming with him. He greeted my mother, then dropped his leather-wrapped tools on the table next to me. I looked up, startled.

“So, I heard an interesting story today,” he began, his eyebrows raised. My mind raced. What had I done? Was this good? Bad? My father was a good man, but when his gaze fixed on me, it usually meant trouble. Otherwise he seemed distant, his mind occupied with work.

“Yeah?” I managed to respond, twirling my pencil uneasily.

“Yeah,” he replied, his hand heavy on my thin shoulder. “I heard about the contest at school. For the chicken coop design you drew up. You won!” A wide smile broke across his face as he clapped me on the back. “Well done, Tal! I’m impressed.”

I grinned sheepishly, delighted by his words but unsure how to handle the attention. “Thanks,” I replied as my mother came over and hugged me, exclaiming her surprise.

“I had no idea those sketches you’re always working on would actually come to something,” he said, his voice a mixture of pride and surprise as he took his seat at the table. “Hey, they’re running a design contest for a new gazebo in the town square. I bet you could win that too.”

Yes, I can win that too. I told myself quietly that night as I lay in bed, replaying the pride I heard in his voice.

“I got high marks on my writing test today,” I told him two days later, trying to sound casual.

He just grunted, his eyes focused on the chisel he was sharpening. “How’s that gazebo design coming?”

“Oh, good.” I quietly put my exam paper away. “I was just about to work on it.”

I had never designed a gazebo before. I don’t think I had ever seen one. I stood in the town square each day, trying to picture the new structure, imagining its lines and curves. I considered asking my dad for help, but . . . no. I wanted to show him I could do this.

I sat at the kitchen table and drew each evening.

Sketch after sketch lay crumpled up on the kitchen table, none of them quite right. What was I missing? I thought about going to bed, my eyes heavy and my mind exhausted, but I wanted to get this right. I got up to light another lantern.

It almost became a ritual. Lighting the lantern with shaking fingers to work long into the night. My gazebo design won me runner-up. Not the winner. Father told me to keep going . . . that I had something special. I could see the way his eyes sparkled when he said it. Over time, architecture became my passion. My obsession even.

Then Ricard showed up.

Ricard Beaumont. The premiere architect of Ican. He took me on as an apprentice after seeing some of my sketches. I’d never seen my father so proud. And I’d never been so nervous.

Ricard took me to Ican, our capital city. A place of opulence and importance. Miles away from home and worlds away from what I knew. The gleaming, golden buildings towered majestically, the bustling crowds immersing me in an energy and vibrancy I had never experienced. To my young mind it seemed endless, limitless, full of possibility.

I wanted to belong. To be one of the truly successful here in the heart of everything.

Another year passed and Ricard’s rigorous methods of teaching paid off. Like my father, he insisted on perfection. Working for him almost felt like home.

I finally rose to the level of First Key. Your Key level determined everything—your status, your earnings, even where you were allowed to live. Key levels were how you knew where everyone stood. We were a Second Key family, so my lantern stayed on.

Invigorated by getting my First Key earlier than anyone expected, I threw myself into earning my Second Key. It was harder than I thought—more competitive—the wins somehow seeming smaller and less significant the further I rose. When I finally held that gleaming, golden Second Key in my hand, it put me in rooms and on stages I had dreamed about as a kid.

And yet . . . it was only Second Key. The high didn’t last long. It was time to forge ahead.

Time passed, sometimes with the adrenaline rush of winning a new architecture contract and sometimes with the cold sweat of a panic attack in the middle of the night. Sometimes the pressure fueled me, and I thrived under it. Other times I felt crushed by its weight. I had the terrible suspicion that I was disappointing people, not living up to my potential. But I knew that if I could just get to Third Key I would be okay.

Autumn leaves turned to snow turned to the new shoots of spring and finally . . . I made Third Key. Ricard threw me a party in the Grand Hall of Ican where only Third Keys were allowed. None of my jealous classmates—who I was certain were hoping to see me fail—could even attend. I was higher than my father had ever been. It had loomed so large for so long; the ledge just above our heads, just out of reach. I knew once my fingers caught it and I pulled myself up I would be able to rest.

But it was on that day—the day when I was supposed to be the happiest and most at peace—that everything I knew to be true started unraveling.

I wandered through the opulent hall, clinking glasses with lavishly dressed strangers. The day before I wouldn’t have even been allowed in this room with its towering ceilings and marble pillars. Sunlight streamed through exquisite stained-glass windows depicting the premiere guilds of Ican.

I was with the who’s who, the movers and shakers. It was a mix of old families whose roots went back to the founding of Ican and new blood like me who had clawed their way up. All these people had wealth, success, opportunity. They smiled a lot, laughed a lot, and had an easy air I wasn’t sure how to replicate. I gripped my crystal glass and told myself to look relaxed.

I tried to take in the moment, to exhale, knowing I had finally arrived. I was one of them. This is why my lantern stayed on so many nights—to be in this room. I tried to ignore the voice that still whispered that I didn’t really belong. The voice that told me I would be found out as a fake.

I drifted through conversations and congratulations, feeling a bit unsure where to land. Eventually I made my way to the other end of the Hall. It was quieter here, and I could observe the party around me. This party was for me. So why did I feel strangely alone—like I was still on the outside looking in? Why didn’t I feel happier? I just need a moment to reset, I reasoned. Stop being so anxious. I headed to an ornate, carved door, hoping it led to a terrace. It was locked. I squinted at the golden letters circling around the keyhole.

Fourth Key Only.

I froze, time slowing around me. Fourth Key? How many keys were there? Was there a fifth? A sixth? Endless?

I don’t really remember the end of the party. I kept faking a smile and nodding along with strangers, my mind far away. I thought I would finally get to breathe, to rest, but my chest felt tighter than ever. I hadn’t truly arrived after all, had I?

I wondered if I ever would. What was the point of all this?

In the months after my Third Key party, I began wandering farther into the outskirts of Ican. I stopped responding to my mother’s occasional letters. Ricard told me I was losing my edge, that the others were going to beat me out. But I couldn’t seem to care. I was searching for . . . something. That fire that had driven me to Third Key seemed to have burnt itself out, leaving charred, dusty embers in its wake.

I felt uncomfortable in my own skin, like I wanted to escape being me. I wasn't sure where I was going or how to get wherever that was. I just wanted to feel okay and not so stressed out. Everyone else seemed to.

One day I wandered all the way to the edge of Ican. I had worked for twelve hours straight the previous day, but my design was mediocre at best. Ricard would rip into me about it if I went to the guild so I just didn’t show up.

And here I was, staring down the road into the forest like it could give me answers.

Something caught my eye right at the edge of the pavement. I walked over and pulled vines off an old wooden sign that pointed toward the forest.

Purpose.

My heart beat a little faster. Maybe that’s what I was missing.

I heard a rustle above me and looked up. Leaves were dancing on trees high above as the wind picked up.

“Come and see.”

Those words rang in my head as I watched the...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 8.4.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Geisteswissenschaften ► Religion / Theologie ► Christentum
• ISBN-13: 979-8-9860131-7-6 / 9798986013176