Elliott is a second grader whose older brother has gone away to college. He begins to tell his friends about college, but it's not that simple. Elliott sees college as an alien world where nothing is the same as it is on Earth Join as Elliott goes on an out-of-this-world adventure with new gadgets and scary monsters. This is college, right? Can it really be that different?
Transcend Your Fear of Negative Cards Make every reading positive and empowering with this beginner-friendly guide to the Rider-Waite-Smith tarot. Using his engaging and easy-going style, Elliot Adam teaches you how to move through the shadows and into the light no matter what card you pull. We’ve all been there: hoping for the best as we draw a card...but oh no, it's the Devil! Fearless Tarot shows you that worry won't prevail—every card can become something positive. Elliot helps you find the courage to tackle any reading by also explaining both upright and reversed meanings in a constructive way. His approach features unique spreads and interpretations, and he encourages you to use inner wisdom to start an uplifting dialogue with your deck. This book provides everything you need to confidently read tarot. Includes a foreword by Theresa Reed, author of Tarot: No Questions Asked
I killed a fae leader and now I have to face the consequences. Where I used to stress over college classes, I now have to worry about being a leader to fae who despise me, all the while adjusting to my new diet of human emotions. As for Tristan—I'm still drawn to him in ways that steal my breath and leave me wanting more. There’s no denying how strong we are together or the passion we once shared. And with a looming threat and fragile alliance between our people forcing us to work together again, it’s dangerously easy to slip into old ways. And each other’s beds. But I have to remember that we’re on different sides now. Forbidden to be together, no matter how much I crave his touch. If only I can get my head and heart on the same page…
Summer vacation has just begun and Dayshaun wants to spend Saturday morning playing his new video game. But Dayshaun's mother has other plans: she volunteers at a nearby community garden and that means Dayshaun has to volunteer, too. When Dayshaun puts on his grandfather's grubby old gardening hat, something unexpected happens-the hands of time turn backward and Dayshaun finds himself in the free Black community of Weeksville during the summer of 1863! While helping the survivors of the New York City Draft Riots, Dayshaun meets a frail old man who entrusts him with a precious family heirloom. But will this gift help Dayshaun find his way back to the 21st century? Dayshaun's Gift is Book #2 in the City Kids series.
What happens when the world’s greatest literary icon dies before she finishes the final book in her best-selling series? And what happens when she leaves that book in the hands of her unstable, neurotic daughter, who swears she’s not a real writer? Sara Grayson is a thirty-two-year-old greeting card writer about to land the toughest assignment of her life. Three weeks after the death of her mother—a world-famous suspense novelist—Sara learns that her mother’s dying wish is for her to write the final book in her bestselling series. Sara has lived alone with her dog, Gatsby, ever since her husband walked out with their Pro Double Waffle Maker and her last shred of confidence. She can’t fathom writing a book for thirty million fans—not when last week’s big win was resetting the microwave clock. But in a bold move that surprises even herself, Sara takes it on. Against an impossible deadline and a publisher intent on sabotaging her every move, Sara discovers that stepping into her mother’s shoes means stumbling on family secrets she was never meant to find—secrets that threaten her mother’s legacy and the very book she’s trying to create.
The touching, true story of the child whose courage changed thousands of lives is told in full in this memorable portrait of Janis Babson, who became a symbol of selflessness to all who knew her.
This book explores the co-dependency of monotheism and idolatry by examining the thought of several prominent twentieth-century Jewish philosophers—Cohen, Buber, Rosenzweig, and Levinas. While all of these thinkers were keenly aware of the pitfalls of scriptural theism, to differing degrees they each succumbed to the temptation to personify transcendence, even as they tried either to circumvent or to restrain it by apophatically purging kataphatic descriptions of the deity. Derrida and Wyschogrod, by contrast, carried the project of denegation one step further, embarking on a path that culminated in the aporetic suspension of belief and the consequent removal of all images from God, a move that seriously compromises the viability of devotional piety. The inquiry into apophasis, transcendence, and immanence in these Jewish thinkers is symptomatic of a larger question. Recent attempts to harness the apophatic tradition to construct a viable postmodern negative theology, a religion without religion, are not radical enough. Not only are these philosophies of transcendence guilty of a turn to theology that defies the phenomenological presupposition of an immanent phenomenality, but they fall short on their own terms, inasmuch as they persist in employing metaphorical language that personalizes transcendence and thereby runs the risk of undermining the irreducible alterity and invisibility attributed to the transcendent other. The logic of apophasis, if permitted to run its course fully, would exceed the need to posit some form of transcendence that is not ultimately a facet of immanence. Apophatic theologies, accordingly, must be supplanted by a more far-reaching apophasis that surpasses the theolatrous impulse lying coiled at the crux of theism, an apophasis of apophasis, based on accepting an absolute nothingness—to be distinguished from the nothingness of an absolute—that does not signify the unknowable One but rather the manifold that is the pleromatic abyss at being’s core. Hence, the much-celebrated metaphor of the gift must give way to the more neutral and less theologically charged notion of an unconditional givenness in which the distinction between giver and given collapses. To think givenness in its most elemental, phenomenological sense is to allow the apparent to appear as given without presuming a causal agency that would turn that given into a gift.
Jim Elliot was a missionary--and then a martyr at the hands of the Auca Indians to whom he was witnessing. At the age of 28, he left behind a young wife, a baby daughter, and an incredible legacy of faith. Jim's volumes of personal journals, written over many years, reveal the inner struggles and victories that he experienced before his untimely death. In The Journals of Jim Elliot, you'll come to know this intelligent and articulate man who yearns to know God's plan for his life, details his fascinating missions work, and reveals his love for Elisabeth--first as a single man, then as a happily married one. Edited by his widow, Jim's personal yet universal musings about faith, love, and work will show you how to apply the Bible to the situations you face every day. They will inspire you to lead a life of obedience, regardless of the cost, and delight you with an amazing story of courage and determination.
(Book). Once in a while a photographer gains the trust of an artist or a band, and his work fuses with that of the artist in such a way that the two become married in the public consciousness. One can think of David Duncan's pictures of Picasso at work or Alfred Wertheimer's pictures of Elvis backstage in 1956. Elliott Landy's chronicle of The Band from 1968-1969 is of similar importance. He was trusted so deeply that this group of photographs is as intimate a portrait of a group of musicians inventing a new music as you are ever likely to come across. Today we call that music "Americana," and it is played all over the world by everyone from Mumford and Sons to the Zac Brown Band. But in 1968, when Elliott first started making these pictures, it was played by six musicians in the town of Woodstock, New York Bob Dylan and a group called The Hawks. They later changed their name to The Band. They had been The Hawks for five years when Bob Dylan pulled them out of Tony Mart's dive bar on the Jersey Shore to be his band.
