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Contents Acknowledgments vii chapter 1 ¿ Our Heart¿s Deepest Secret 1 chapter 2 ¿ The Dilemma of Desire 17 chapter 3 ¿ Dare We Desire? 33 chapter 4 ¿ Disowned Desire 51 chapter 5 ¿ Mocking Our Desire¿The Impostors 69 chapter 6 ¿ The Divine Thwarter 89 chapter 7 ¿ The Great Restoration 107 chapter 8 ¿ The Grand Affair 125 chapter 9 ¿ The Adventure Begins 145 chapter 10 ¿ Entering More Deeply into Desire 163 chapter 11 ¿ Letting Go 179 chapter 12 ¿ Keeping Heart¿To the End 197 About the Author 213 acknowledgments I did not intend to write this book alone. Brent Curtis, with whom I wrote The Sacred Romance, was a marvelous coauthor and I had looked forward to many years of working together. Indeed, all of my visions for the future included him, for he was my dearest friend. But as you shall soon discover in these pages, Brent was killed in May of ¿98. I have struggled to even speak of it, partly in fear that these thoughts will be dismissed as the ruminations of a grieving man. But this book had already been several years in the making, in that I had been taking notes on the subject for some time. I have long believed that the journey of desire is the central journey of the soul. But after Brent¿s death, writing became a necessity. The truths contained here suddenly became all the more true. Still, I did not write entirely alone. As Pascal reminds us in his Pensées, ¿Some authors, when talking of their works, say, my book, my commentary, my history, etc. I recommend them to say, our book, because in general they contain much more of what belongs to other people than to themselves.¿ How right he is. I readily confess the influence of so many¿my family and friends, my clients and the authors that I love. No doubt you will find many of their thoughts here. I only wish I could personally thank each of them. In hopes that they will understand something of my gratitude, I will risk naming but a few of the men and women to whom I am indebted. To Rolf Zettersten, Publisher of Thomas Nelson Books: Thank you for phoning one afternoon to ask if I would ever write again. To Brian Hampton, my editor: The thought of working with a new editor was not a welcome one to me, but you have more than allayed my fears. Your understanding and skill have meant a great deal to me in the realization of this work. To Sealy Yates: I am deeply grateful for all your wisdom and counsel. You are more than an agent par excellence¿you are a man of deep desire. To Mike Rosebush: Your gracious leadership has allowed this book to become a reality. Thanks for all your support. To Bart Hansen: Neither of us had any idea what was to unfold at the ranch that fateful afternoon. How can I ever thank you for standing with me through those agonizing days and months, for your encouragement and for your friendship? To Gary, Leigh, and Joni: You are more than friends; you are allies. Stasi and I are richer people for having you in our lives. To Jan: For walking the journey with us, for keeping your own heart alive, for living with such gracious courage, you have strengthened me. And your reaction to the manuscript was more than I could have asked for. Thank you. To Stasi, my wife: Your enthusiasm was, above all else, my source of inspiration to press on. The thing about writing is, I have no idea if what I¿m saying is any good. I¿m far too close to it. This was especially so with The Journey of Desire, which I was destined to write in the solitary confinement of the basement. Your wonderful responses to the unfolding chapters were like cold water to a very thirsty man. You love me well. To my sons, Samuel, Blaine, and Luke: Thanks for letting Dad disappear downstairs so many nights. And thanks for sneaking down to remind me that it was time to stop and play. I love to write, but I love you more. Let¿s go wrestle. To all the dear friends who have been praying for me: None of this would have happened without you. You know what a spiritual Vietnam this has been; thank you seems far too inadequate for providing such cover. Finally, my deepest thanks to the men and women who have shared with me their own journeys of desire: I am honored to be called your friend. This truly is our book. Once upon a time there lived a sea lion who had lost the sea. He lived in a country known as the barren lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of coarse grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly, it was dust. And sometimes wind, which together make one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert at all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen. How the sea lion came to the barren lands, no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago. So long, in fact, it appeared as though he had always been there. Not that he belonged in such an arid place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.
Library of Congress Subject Headings for this publication:
Desire -- Religious aspects -- Christianity.