Better Than Reason

By Samuel Linton

Everything happens for a reason.

 

How often have you heard that statement? Does that really help when our faith is tested?

 

Maybe God has a better way for us to think about the difficult parts of our faith adventure.

 

Samuel Linton takes you on an unforgettable journey that redefines your understanding of faith. Join him in an honest conversation with a strong young woman who doesn't shy away from voicing her doubts.

 

Direct, thought-provoking, and even sometimes funny, Better Than Reason offers a brief, but miraculous exploration of the tough questions holding us back from trusting God.

 

Get started on a supernatural journey that challenges your mind to rediscover adoration in a God who comprehends the end from the beginning.

 

Take the first step and grab your copy of Better Than Reason today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Glint Publications
• Release date: Oct 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223498650

Book preview

Better Than Reason

BETTER THAN REASON

FINDING GOD’S UNEXPECTED PATH TO PURPOSE

SAMUEL LINTON

GLINT PUBLICATIONS

Copyright © 2023 by Glint Publications.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Sorry, Right Number

Multitasker

Nose Ring Prophecy

What About-ism

The Only Question That Matters

Microburst Prophecy

Promise Keeper

Better Than Reason

Hallmark Card Doctrine

Get Comfortable With These Three Words

Casket Graffiti

A God Story

Ashleigh

About Sam

For Candace and Ashleigh.

Thank you for allowing me to learn from you.

Sometimes, obedience looks like moving to another part of the country to do what God wants you to do. Sometimes obedience looks like speaking up while others are being silent. Sometimes, obedience looks like taking a call that you are not obligated to take.

And sometimes—

Obedience looks like this.

SORRY, RIGHT NUMBER

The call came in right as I was leaving my office. Our main administrator, Cindy, scrawled the number down on one of those phone receipt pads.

You know the ones. Where you write the message down and rip the top copy off, leaving a record on a yellow copy beneath as proof that the message was taken. We run some things old-school at our church.

Also, maybe sometimes we’ve forgotten messages. Who’s to say? Don’t judge.

I heard who it was and who it was for as I was getting ready to bounce, so I paid no mind. I said goodbye to the staff and prepared to jump into my car for a two-day training I was facilitating in the exotic locale of Cleveland, Ohio.

I assure you, Cleveland isn’t as lush as you may be picturing it. Sorry, Cleveland.

As I was heading toward the Fort Pitt Tunnel to jump onto 279, my phone rang.

It was one of the other church administrators, Judy.

Why don’t you just call that lady? she said.

I think she was waiting for the other pastor, I answered. She was. She called for him.

And also, I didn’t want to take the call, if I’m being honest.

You see, the part of the conversation I heard from Cindy was that this young lady had been arguing with her mother—a really great member of our church—about theology. The argument had gotten heated.

Newsflash: when you argue with people about theology, it usually doesn’t end in a warm hug and a trip to Peace, Love, and Little Donuts. I mean, you might end up at the donut shop, but it’s usually just to eat your feelings because theological arguments suck.

Judy persisted. Yeah, she was. But he’s performing a funeral right now, and you have a two-hour drive ahead of you to go work on the side.

I felt guilty because I was doing side work and because I knew I didn’t want to take the call and guilt is my love language. When I feel it, my tank fills up. Judy filled my tank.

Judy was right. I had two hours of me listening to podcasts and audiobooks as I traversed to the edge of the Midwest, so I might as well do something productive toward the ministry.

Even though theological arguments are as productive as trying to teach a centipede how to ice skate.

Lots of skates, very little progress.

Sure, I’ll do it, I said. I waited for the office to send me the number.

I drove on the highway, mildly resentful that my time focusing on my own self-development would be impeded by a phone call with a person who was antagonistic about the doctrines of the church and, as a bonus, I’d get