Abcs Of Parenting Order Printed Copy

Author: Gouri Dange
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The Abcs Of A Beautiful Marriage

About the Book

"ABCs of Parenting" by Gouri Dange is a practical guide for new parents, offering a comprehensive overview of the important aspects of raising a child. The book covers topics such as discipline, communication, setting boundaries, and fostering a strong parent-child relationship. With its straightforward advice and relatable anecdotes, "ABCs of Parenting" aims to help parents navigate the challenges of parenthood with confidence and compassion.

Louis Zamperini

Louis Zamperini was a World War II prisoner of war and an Olympic athlete who became an inspirational figure and writer. Who Was Louis Zamperini? Louis Zamperini was a World War II veteran and Olympic distance runner. Zamperini competed in the 1936 Berlin Olympics and was set to compete again in the 1940 games in Tokyo, which were canceled when World War II broke out. A bombardier in the Army Air Corps, Zamperini was in a plane that went down, and when he arrived on shore in Japan 47 days later, he was taken as a prisoner of war and tortured for two years. After his release, Zamperini became an inspirational figure, and his life served as the basis for the 2014 biography Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. Early Years Louis Silvie Zamperini was born to Italian immigrant parents on January 26, 1917, in the town of Olean, New York. Growing up in Torrance, California, Zamperini ran track at Torrance High School and discovered that he had a talent for long-distance running. In 1934, Zamperini set the national high school mile record, and his time of 4 minutes and 21.2 seconds would stand for an incredible 20 years. His track prowess also caught the attention of the University of Southern California, which he earned a scholarship to attend. 1936 Berlin Olympics It wasn’t long before Zamperini was taking his love of track to the next level, and in 1936 he headed to New York City for the 5,000-meter Olympic trials. Held on Randall’s Island, the race pitted Zamperini against Don Lash, the world record holder in the event. The race ended in a dead heat between the two runners, and the finish was enough to qualify Zamperini for the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, while he was still a teenager. Zamperini trained for only a few weeks in the 5,000 meters, and although he ran well (he finished his last lap in only 56 seconds), he didn’t medal, coming in eighth (to Lash’s 13th). During the overwhelming pageant that is the Olympics, the 19-year-old stood near Adolf Hitler’s box with his fellow athletes, seeking a photo of the Nazi leader. Looking back on the event, Zamperini said, “I was pretty naïve about world politics, and I thought he looked funny, like something out of a Laurel and Hardy film.” In 1938, Zamperini was back setting records at the collegiate level, this time breaking the mile record of 4:08.3, a new mark that held for 15 years. Zamperini graduated from USC in 1940, a year that would have been the speedster’s next shot at Olympic gold, but World War II intervened. World War II and Japanese POW Camp With the outbreak of World War II, the 1940 Olympics were canceled, and Zamperini enlisted in the Army Air Corps. He ended up a bombardier on the B-24 Liberator, and in May 1943, Zamperini and a crew went out on a flight mission to search for a pilot whose plane had gone down. Out over the Pacific Ocean, Zamperini’s plane suffered mechanical failure and crashed into the ocean. Of the 11 men on board, only Zamperini and two other airmen survived the crash, but help was nowhere to be found, and the men were stranded on a raft together for 47 days. The month and a half at sea proved harrowing for the survivors, as they were subjected to the unrelenting sun, strafing runs by Japanese bombers, circling sharks and little drinking water. To survive, they collected rainwater and killed birds that happened to land on the raft. One of the men died at sea before Zamperini and the plane’s pilot, Russell Allen "Phil" Phillips, finally washed ashore. They found themselves on a Pacific island 2,000 miles from the crash site and in enemy Japanese territory. While saved from the ocean, the men were soon taken as prisoners of war by the Japanese, beginning the next leg of their horrific experience. In captivity across a series of prison camps, Zamperini and Phillips were separated and subjected to torture, both physical and psychological. They were beaten and starved, and Zamperini was singled out and abused repeatedly by a camp sergeant called the Bird, who would tear into fits of psychotic violence. Yet Zamperini, as a former Olympic athlete, was seen as a propaganda tool by the Japanese, a scenario that likely saved him from execution. The captivity lasted for more than two years, during which time Zamperini was officially pronounced dead by the U.S. military. Zamperini was released only after the war ended in 1945, and he returned to the United States. Postwar Life and Legacy Scarred by his ordeal, upon his return home, Zamperini suffered from alcoholism, and he and his wife, Cynthia, came close to divorce. (They stayed married, though, for 54 years, until her death in 2001.) What brought Zamperini back from the brink was hearing a Billy Graham sermon in Los Angeles in 1949, a sermon that inspired Zamperini and began the healing process. He went on to found a camp for troubled youth called Victory Boys Camp and forgave his Japanese tormenters. Some received Zamperini’s forgiveness in person in 1950, when he visited a Tokyo prison where they were serving war-crime sentences. In 1998, Zamperini returned to Japan once again to carry the torch at the Nagano Winter Games. He stated his intention to forgive the Bird, Mutsuhiro Watanabe, but Watanabe refused to meet with him. Zamperini also went on to become a prominent inspirational speaker, and he wrote two memoirs, both titled Devil at My Heels (1956 and 2003). His life has inspired a recent biography as well, Laura Hillenbrand’s Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. The book has also become the subject of a 2014 film, Unbroken, directed and produced by actress Angelina Jolie, as well as its 2018 sequel Unbroken: Path to Redemption. Zamperini died at age 97 of pneumonia on July 2, 2014.

The Year My World Fell Apart

Twenty-five years ago, my world fell apart. I had just turned 39, was happily married with five kids, and served as the associate pastor of a growing two-year-old church plant. My health was good, I enjoyed an active life, and ministry opportunities abounded. Everything looked good from the outside. But on the inside, it was a different story. Starting in January of 1994, fear, hopelessness, depression, detachment, anxiety, and emptiness became my daily companions. All my life, I had taken pride in my ability to think clearly, but suddenly, thoughts began racing through my mind that I couldn’t stop. Panic attacks came regularly. I imagined I would be dead within months. And then there were the physical effects. Most days, I found it hard to catch my breath. My arms itched incessantly, and no amount of scratching relieved the sensation. When it didn’t seem like a 200-pound weight pressed against my chest, I often felt an eerie hollowness. My face buzzed. I was light-headed. I spent many nights pacing and trying to pray. ‘This Doesn’t Happen to Pastors’ Other than the normal pressures of a church planting pastor, there were no obvious reasons why I seemed to be going crazy. In an effort to rule out potential causes, I made an appointment with my doctor for a complete checkup. The results came back. I was “fine.” Nothing had prepared me for what I was going through. My internal accusations that “this doesn’t happen to pastors” only made me more frantic. I looked fruitlessly for something that would give me victory over whatever it was I was battling. Scripture. Prayer. Worship music. A retreat. A vacation. Even a trip to Canada during the “Toronto blessing.” Nothing helped. Early on, I thought about seeing a counselor, maybe even a psychiatrist. I was aware of occasions when people with hormonal imbalances, an inability to sleep, or traumatic personal histories benefited from medical intervention. I wondered if drugs might help me get back on my feet to deal with what I was experiencing. I also identified with various labels I had read about. Nervous breakdown. Burnout. Anxiety disorder. Depression. Whatever was going on was affecting me emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. The symptoms were too numerous and intense to think this was only a “sin” problem. But no label I assigned to my condition identified root causes. If what I was experiencing originated in my own heart (as it seemed), I wanted to explore that first. I wanted to press in to the gospel to see what I might be missing. The next two and a half years were the hardest of my life. But knowing what I learned from them, they were, without a doubt, the best years. Many people, most significantly my wife, Julie, were invaluable means of grace during that time. I hope to be a means of grace to you or others you might know who have been through something similar to what I’ve been describing. These are a few of the lessons God taught me during that time. We Might Not Be Hopeless Enough About a year into my dark season, I told my good friend, Gary, that I felt dead inside. Life didn’t make sense. I felt completely hopeless. Gary’s response was one I’ll never forget and have passed on to countless people, “I don’t think you’re hopeless enough. If you were completely hopeless, you’d stop trusting in what you can do and trust in what Jesus has already done for you on the cross.” Our problem isn’t that we have no hope. We just hope in things that aren’t God. Our own abilities. A preferred outcome. Our reputation. Financial security. You fill in the blank. And when the idols we’ve hoped in don’t deliver as promised, we panic. We despair. We lash out. We go numb. That’s why the psalmists speak of hoping in the Lord and his word at least twenty-five times, and why David tells us to “hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore” (Psalm 131:3). It’s easy and common to hope in something other than God. Blessed Are Those Who Know Their Need For most of my life up until that point, my heart aggressively served the idols of credit and control. Those idols revealed a selfish ambition that desired not only people’s approval but their applause, even their adoration. I wanted to receive the praise only God deserves. When I couldn’t get everyone to think I was as great as I thought I was, or when I realized the world didn’t bow to my desires, my idols punished me: mentally, emotionally, and physically. I thought I was a victim. I thought depression was “coming on me” from “out there.” Actually, I was the one producing it, through my own fears, unbelief, and false worship. I was forsaking my only hope of steadfast love (Jonah 2:8). Over time I came to see God was guiding the whole process in order to turn my heart to him. He wanted to wean me from my self-centered idolatry so I could find the greater joy of pursuing his glory instead of mine. Benefits We Don’t Think We Need In the first year of my trial, I was often unaffected by normal spiritual disciplines like reading Scripture, gathering with the church on Sundays, and prayer. The promises of the Bible seemed like empty platitudes, meant for those who were doing well. In reality, I didn’t see the depths of my need clearly enough. A friend introduced me to John Owen’s Sin and Temptation and God used it to show me how deceived my heart could be. Rather than wondering why I felt so hopeless and fearful, I started to own those feelings as the effect of functionally seeing myself as my own savior. Apart from Jesus, I was completely hopeless and had every reason to fear. But Jesus died on the cross to save hopeless and fearful people. And I was one of them. That thought process, repeated a thousand times, pointed me again and again to the Savior I needed more than I had ever realized. Feelings Are Unreliable Proofs The Psalms teach us that a relationship with God involves our emotions. God’s presence brings joy, God’s promises bring comfort, God’s provision brings satisfaction (Psalm 16:11; 119:50; 145:16). But I was trying to root my faith in my experiences rather than in God’s word. I was looking to sustained peace as evidence that the Bible was true, and found myself chasing experiences rather than Jesus. When I was unaffected by the gospel, I began to see that other desires were at work in my heart. Selfish ambition. Self-atonement. Works-righteousness. A love of ease. Feelings tell me something is happening in my soul, but they don’t necessarily tell me why I feel (or don’t feel) a certain way. We discover that through patiently and consistently trusting and pursuing God (Proverbs 2:1–5). When I insist on finding relief from my emotional distress before I believe God, I’m living by sight, not by faith. Self-Focus Won’t Ultimately Defeat Self-Sins In March of 1995, I went on a personal retreat. After 24 hours, I determined my problem was that I had been depending too much on my own righteousness and needed to trust in the righteousness of Christ. When I got home, I committed myself to a rigid discipline of Scripture memorization. Julie told me I came back more bound up than when I had left. One reason my dark season lasted so long was my belief that both the problem and solution ended in me. It was my lack of faith, my legalism, my poor choices. I needed to memorize more Scripture, do more, do less, do nothing, do everything. Over time, God graciously showed me that putting sin to death involves me but doesn’t depend on me. God’s grace comes to humble, needy people, never to those who think they deserve or can earn it. Robert Murray M’Cheyne’s counsel is still wise: “For every look at self, take ten looks at Christ!” His perfect life, substitutionary sacrifice, and glorious resurrection are a never-ending stream of delight, hope, and transformation (2 Corinthians 3:18). Take Every Temptation to Christ Maturity isn’t freedom from temptation, but responding to temptation more often with what God has said and done for us in Christ. I often thought I was backsliding when the temptations of anxiety, fear, hopelessness, and depression reappeared (or even increased). In those moments, I was tempted to think what I had been doing and believing “didn’t work.” But John Owen observed, “Your state is not at all to be measured by the opposition that sin makes to you, but by the opposition you make to it.” In my discouragement, I was tempted to run to something other than God’s word and the gospel as my refuge. I started to doubt that hearing the Bible preached on Sundays could do any good. But God’s promises remain true no matter how many times we forget or neglect them. Jesus will always be the only Savior who died for my sins to bear my punishment and reconcile me to God (1 Peter 3:18). In him I am truly forgiven, justified, adopted, and eternally secure in God’s love and care. As I continued to confess my inadequacy with phrases like, “You are God, and I am not,” I saw more clearly how God alone will always be my rock, steadfast love, fortress, stronghold, deliverer, and refuge (Psalm 144:1–2). Traveling Through the Valley The lessons I learned during those years have shaped my walk with God to this day. I still battle many of the same sins I fought twenty-five years ago, but I fight with greater clarity and trust in the one who has won the war. Temptations are less frequent and less intense. I’ve been able to point others who have been going through similar seasons to the life-transforming hope we have in the gospel. Removing difficulties, problems, and trials isn’t the only way God shows he is good. Instead of superficial solutions, Jesus actually delivers us from our false hopes of ultimate salvation, satisfaction, and comfort. We want relief from the pain — God wants to make us like his Son. We want a change in our circumstances — God wants a change in our hearts. A crucified and risen Savior proves once and for all he’s actually able to bring that change about. I’ve learned that the goal of the battle against emotional turmoil isn’t simply emotional peace. The goal is to know Christ. That realization led me to pray at one point, “If being like this for the rest of my life means that I will know you better, then leave me like this.” Thankfully, God didn’t leave me like I was. He gave me a deeper trust in the care of my heavenly Father, a more passionate love for Jesus and the gospel, and a greater awareness of his Spirit’s presence. I know better now what Paul meant when he said, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Which is why I thank God that, in his abundant mercy, he caused my world to fall apart twenty-five years ago.