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About the Book


"Paid in Full" by Rick Renner is a book that explores the concept of redemption through the lens of biblical teachings. Renner discusses how Jesus paid the ultimate price for humanity's sins and how this sacrifice allows believers to experience freedom, forgiveness, and a restored relationship with God. The book emphasizes the importance of understanding and accepting this gift of salvation in order to live a fulfilling and abundant life.

Darlene Deibler Rose

Darlene Deibler Rose Darlene Diebler Rose: Unwavering Faith in God’s Promises “Remember one thing, dear: God said he would never leave us nor forsake us.” Those words were spoken on March 13, 1942, and were the last words Darlene Diebler would ever hear from her husband, Russell, as they were permanently separated in Japanese prison camps during World War II. She was a missionary in her early twenties. She did not even have a chance to say goodbye. Consider her own reflection on that heartbreaking day: Everything had happened so fast and without the slightest warning. Russell had said, “He will never leave us nor forsake us.” No? What about now, Lord? This was one of the times when I thought God had left me, that he had forsaken me. I was to discover, however, that when I took my eyes off the circumstances that were overwhelming me, over which I had no control, and looked up, my Lord was there, standing on the parapet of heaven looking down. Deep in my heart he whispered, “I’m here. Even when you don’t see me, I’m here. Never for a moment are you out of my sight” (Evidence Not Seen, 46). Obedience to God’s Call in All Circumstances Darlene Mae McIntosh was born on May 17, 1917. At age nine she put her trust in the Lord Jesus Christ as her light and salvation. One year later, during a revival service, she sensed God’s calling to give her life to missions. On that night she promised Jesus, “Lord, I will go anywhere with you, no matter what it costs” (46). How could that little girl know what the Savior had planned for her in the not too distant future? “Through it all, Darlene was sustained by God, who never left her nor forsook her, just as he promised. He remained her light and salvation.” Darlene married a pioneer missionary to Southeast Asia named Russell Deibler on August 18, 1937. She was only nineteen years old. He was twelve years her senior. The Deiblers eagerly returned to Russell’s pioneer missionary work in the interior of New Guinea. Darlene accompanied Russell into the jungle to establish a new mission station near a previously unevangelized, primitive tribe that had only been discovered just a few years earlier. Darlene, the first white woman any of them had ever seen, grew to deeply love the local people. When World War II broke out in that part of the world, the Dieblers chose to stay. And when the Japanese soon took control of the area, the Deiblers were put under house arrest. Later, Japanese soldiers herded all foreigners into prisoner-of-war camps, separating the men from the women and children. During the next four years, Darlene endured separation from her husband and, eventually, widowhood. The brutal conditions of a WWII Japanese internment camp included near-starvation, forced labor, inhumane conditions, false accusations of espionage, serious illnesses, solitary confinement, and torture. Through it all, Darlene was sustained by God, who never left her nor forsook her, just as he promised. He remained her light and salvation. God Is Sufficient in All Circumstances After receiving the news of her husband’s death, Darlene was falsely accused of being a spy and taken to a maximum-security prison where she was kept in solitary confinement. Written over the door of her cell were the words in Indonesian, “This person must die.” Frequently she was taken to an interrogation room and accused of spying. Upon her denial, her interrogators would strike her at the base of the neck or on her forehead above the nose. There were times she thought they had broken her neck. She walked around often with two black eyes. “Bloodied but unbowed” (141), she never wept in front of her captors, but when she was back in her cell she would weep and pour out her heart to the Lord. When she finished, she would hear him whisper, “But my child, my grace is sufficient for thee. Not was or shall be, but it is sufficient” (141). “When she finished, she would hear him whisper, ‘But my child, my grace is sufficient for thee. Not was or shall be, but it is sufficient.’” Time and time again God showed himself to be powerful and faithful to Darlene. Once, within moments of being beheaded as a spy, she was unexpectedly taken from the maximum-security prison back to her original prison camp. The Lord again had heard her prayers, leading her to a level path against her enemies. Over and over again, Darlene could look back at her life and see how God had strengthened and sustained her as a young bride at age nineteen. when she headed to the jungles of New Guinea at twenty. when placed under house arrest by the Japanese when she was twenty-five. when she and her husband were separated into separate prison camps in 1942, never to see each other again in this life. as she ate rats, tadpoles, dogs, runny oatmeal, and maggots, and other unimaginable foods. through dengue fever, beriberi, malaria, cerebral malaria, dysentery, beatings, torture, attacks of rabid dogs, false charges of espionage, the promise of beheading, solitary confinement, Allied bombings, and many other inhumane abuses. when told of the death of her beloved husband and his own tortures and sufferings. when he brought her home to America but kept the fire of missions burning in her soul. when he brought another missionary into her life, Gerald Rose, whom she married (1948) and returned with him to New Guinea in 1949. as she labored on the mission field of Papua New Guinea and the Outback of Australia for over forty years, evangelizing, teaching, building landing strips, delivering babies, facing down headhunters, and loving them to Jesus. On February 24, 2004, Darlene Diebler Rose quietly passed away and entered into the presence of the King she so deeply loved and faithfully served. She was eighty-seven years old. All throughout her life, when sharing her story, Darlene would say, “I would do it all again for my Savior.” No doubt many in New Guinea are grateful for her devotion. May we follow this great saint to the nations, for the sake of their souls and the glory of our great King Jesus.

Are You a Friend to the Poor

God’s heart is for the least of these: the suffering, lost, and lonely. "Do you know the name of a poor person?" a young man in his twenties who was sharing about his experiences as a missionary in Moldova posed the question to me in church. His phrase was tricky because if he'd said, "Do you care about the poor?" I might have tossed it in that drawer where you keep all the stuff you've heard a million times and are supposed to ponder but probably won't do much with. When he asked if I knew the name of a poor person he exposed a glaring gap in my Christianity: Whose name did I know? Not whose face had I passed on 21st Street on my way to grab coffee; not what homeless man had I handed a dollar for the paper he peddles at the stoplight; not what anonymous tsunami victim had received an online donation I'd made. Whose name did I know? I was left to consider this very important question because if I didn't know the name of a poor person, I didn't really know a poor person. (This is one of the biggest problems with going to church — the possibility of getting all convicted and stuff.) I always knew that if God's heart was for anything it was for the least of these: the suffering, sick, needy, uneducated, foreigner, lost, lonely — this much was clear. And it's true that these were people I cared about, prayed for, and on whose behalf I tithed, but how many of them called me friend? Who had my phone number, been to dinner at my house, or sat beside me at church? Without condemnation, I had to recognize that I was someone who cared for the poor mostly from a distance but who had yet to intimately involve herself. My first step: Learn a name. In the Law of Moses God commanded the Israelites to leave their extra sheaves, olives, and grapes for the alien, fatherless, and widow — for all the people who didn't have what the Israelites had and who didn't have the means to get what they had. At the end of this recurring command the Lord gave His people an intriguing reason for why He required this, "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt. That is why I command you to do this" (Deut. 24:22, NIV). Didn't God want them to leave their excess food for the poor and outsider because these people were hungry, because they needed community, because they couldn't provide for themselves, because He loved them? Wasn't that why? Oh I'm sure those were all reasons, but I believe God first had to deal with that sneaky mind-set, the one that tries to trick us into thinking that when we step over a stalk of wheat to leave it for the poor we're doing something really noble, plain over-the-top gracious. That we're going above and beyond by giving away what is rightfully "ours." The Lord was staving off this kind of thinking by saying, "Hold your fancy horses. Remember you used to be slaves too! Don't forget to tap into what that felt like." The Israelites were no strangers to poverty, oppression, or powerlessness as ones who had once been enslaved in Egypt. It was only because of God's deliverance they were now free, only because of His goodness they were blessed with flourishing fields and bursting branches. By remembering their once low estate, they were poised to welcome the foreigner, fatherless, and widow, not out of self-righteousness, guilt, or duty, but out of the love God had shown them. Last night I served dinner to an Iraqi couple and their 2-year-old daughter, a family some of my friends and I have gotten to know. I'd hoped that chicken, broccoli, and couscous were safe selections to serve these well-dressed Middle Easterners, though I sensed I may have been pushing it with the hot apple cider. I was going for the American autumn experience, and judging by their first and only sip, this went over moderately. As we settled around the table I asked them why they'd left Baghdad to come to America. The husband replied, "Because there are less car bombings here," and then he broke out into hysterical laughter. (Safwat's a sanguine.) His wife was less buoyant, confiding that the war had been devastating and that they'd fled here as refugees hoping to find jobs but so far without any success. My eyes welled up as she spoke because her suffering was not that of a nameless Iraqi, but it belonged to her, a real-life woman with a name, Rida. As the adults carried on, Rubaa fingered the icing on her cupcake and tapped her shoes on the hardwood floors, just like any other baby girl in a bright red dress who wanted the room to be enchanted with her — some things are the same everywhere. When it was time for them to leave, Safwat shook my hand, Rubaa blew me a kiss at her mother's urging, and Rida kissed my right cheek, left cheek, and then back to my right cheek again (it's that third one I always forget). As we said our good-byes I realized what a privilege it was to know their names, because knowing their names meant I was getting to know their stories. And knowing their stories reminded me in deeply spiritual and emotional places that I, too, was once a foreigner outside of God's kingdom, but because of Christ, I am now a daughter. Kelly Minter

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