Break Free from Survival Mode

Niki Hardy

Description

While we're not promised an easy life, we are promised an abundant one, and that abundance doesn't come in spite of our pain--it comes in the midst of it. Drawing on her own journey, stories of others whose lives have shattered, and lessons from often-forgotten women of Scripture, Hardy offers you seven practical tools for breaking free from survival mode, recapturing an abundant life, and thriving no matter how broken life seems.

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 11 janvier 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781493435890
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Endorsements
“If you are struggling with what your life looks like right now, this book offers real help and tangible hope. Niki writes with empathy, humor, and gut-level honesty. You’ll find a friend within these pages.”
Sheila Walsh , cohost of Life Today and author of It’s Okay Not to Be Okay and Holding On When You Want to Let Go
“Where is God in the midst of your pain? What happens when you’re too tired and exhausted to pray? Whatever you’re going through (the death of a loved one, an illness, a divorce, etc.), it’s comforting to know that you’re not alone. Niki Hardy has been through the valley of the shadow of death and eloquently unfolds her powerful story with raw, vulnerable honesty that cuts to the heart of the human condition. I would recommend this book to anyone going through a health crisis and to anyone struggling with the issue of real, active faith in the midst of a silent, raging tempest.”
JD Chandler , national media personality, K-LOVE Radio Network
“Filled with life-giving hope, practical help, and the perfect blend of real-life humor we need when life falls apart! This book holds the truth we need and the companionship of the friend we want to walk through days that leave us gasping for air and seasons that make us wonder how we’ll ever survive. Through the death of loved ones, her own battle with cancer, and one hard thing after another, Niki asked God tough questions and fought to find the answers we all need. I highly recommend Break Free from Survival Mode ! I’m getting a copy to keep and a few to give away, and you should too!”
Renee Swope , bestselling author of A Confident Heart and former radio cohost, Proverbs 31 Ministries
“Niki Hardy is the voice you need to hear when life goes the opposite of what you imagined. I’m buying Break Free from Survival Mode in bulk to stock our arsenal of books that we keep around to give away to friends and family. This book is a gift.”
Myquillyn Smith , Wall Street Journal bestselling author of Cozy Minimalist Home
“This is a gem of a book—just as its author is a gem of a person. Niki is vulnerable and real about pain and suffering, whether her own or others’, but she doesn’t leave us there. She points us back to God and gives us spiritual encouragement and some down-to-earth practices that we can engage in if we want to thrive and not just survive the tough times. A must-read for anyone who feels they are in a pit of any kind right now—or anyone who ever has been or will be, which just about covers us all, I think.”
John Peters , rector of St. Mary’s, Bryanston Square, London, England
“My friend Niki knows firsthand what it’s like to feel like everything is falling apart, and somehow, in the midst of it all, draw closer to God. Niki leads us on a journey that will take each one of us straight to the feet of Jesus. And she does it with stunning vulnerability, biblical truth, and even humor. (Reading along, I couldn’t help but laugh as I imagined her, with her British accent, talking about her ‘bum,’ ‘the loo,’ and ‘rubbish.’) I would recommend this beautiful book to anyone who doesn’t simply want to survive but to rise up and thrive.”
Jennifer Dukes Lee , author of It’s All Under Control and The Happiness Dare
Half Title Page
Half Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2019 by Niki Hardy
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Spire edition published 2022
ISBN 978-0-8007-4116-7
eISBN 978-1-4934-3589-0
Previously published in 2019 under the title Breathe Again
Ebook edition created 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Scripture quotations labeled ESV are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved. ESV Text Edition: 2016
Scripture quotations labeled MSG are from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Scripture quotations labeled TLB are from The Living Bible, copyright © 1971. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
The author is represented by MacGregor & Luedeke Literary
Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and post-consumer waste whenever possible.
Dedication
To Mum and Jo
You led the way. You showed me how. I miss you. Every day.
———
To Al
My best friend, my hubby, my partner in crime, my HB. No matter what life chucks our way, you’re the man I want to live it with. Thank you for believing in me. I love you.
———
To my beans—James, Sophie, and Emma
Remember these three things, always: God loves you desperately. So do I. And wherever life takes you, the flapjack tin will always be waiting, full. I love you . . . more.
Epigraph
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
Psalm 23:4 ESV
Contents
Cover
Endorsements 1
Half Title Page 3
Title Page 5
Copyright Page 6
Dedication 7
Epigraph 8
I’m Sorry You’re Here . . . No Wait, I Take That Back 11
PART 1 Finding Solid Ground
1. Rubbish We Believe When the Poop Hits the Fan 23
It’s all my fault, God’s angry, and now he’s vanished
2. The Truth We Need When Our World Is Rocked 36
Life doesn’t have to be pain-free to be full
3. Practice Makes Better, Not Perfect 54
PART 2 Learning to Breathe Again
4. Choose Brave 65
It doesn’t have to be big
5. Trust God 81
He’s got impeccable credentials
6. Find Community 99
Thriving is a team sport
7. Be Vulnerable 114
Stiff upper lips need ChapStick
8. Embrace the Journey 128
Even the detours, diversions, and dead ends
9. Practice Gratitude 145
For the rubble, not just the rubies
10. Reach Out 162
It might just save you
PART 3 Keep Calm and Breathe On
11. Now What? 181
Have tools, will travel
The Thriver’s Manifesto 191
Gifts 193
From me to you, with love
Resources 195
Where can I find help with . . . ?
Acknowledgments 197
Because I can’t fit a hundred names on the cover
Notes 201
Who said what, where
About the Author 205
Niki’s sensible(ish) bio
Back Ads 207
Back Cover 209
I’m Sorry You’re Here . . . No Wait, I Take That Back
In this world you will have trouble.
John 16:33
I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.
John 10:10
I ’d been home less than twenty-four hours when I got the call from my sister, Claire. It was time. I’d hardly been back home in Oxford, England, long enough to throw anything in the wash or put my suitcase back in the attic, but it was time. Time to head back to Vancouver, Canada, to my mum’s house, where she’d lived since marrying my stepfather nearly twenty years earlier. She’d been battling aggressive small-cell lung cancer for the last year, and I’d just spent two precious weeks visiting her. How could it be time? Had things deteriorated that fast?
I chucked some mismatched clothes and my wash bag back into my suitcase, landed a firm but quick oh-my-goodness-I’ve-got-to-go peck on Al’s cheek followed by one for each of the kids, and then dashed back to the majestic coast of the Pacific Northwest.
Mum was barely conscious by the time I arrived at the hospital, yet she appeared to have been waiting for me, the last of her kids, to arrive. Turning her head as I perched on the edge of the bed, she smiled weakly, the corners of her mouth curling slightly upward, relief filling her eyes.
“You made it,” she mumbled.
As her breathing became labored and she slipped unconscious, we held her hands and prayed. She passed away as we—my sisters Claire and Jo, and our stepfather with his grown children—looked on helplessly.
“In this world you will have trouble . . .”
———
Six short years later, Claire had to make another call. It was time. Again.
With an ominous sense of déjà vu, I went through the motions as if acting in a play I’d rehearsed only once before. Once again it seemed like just a few hours that I’d been home. By then Al and I had moved with our three small kids to Charlotte, North Carolina, to plant CityChurch, and I’d been back in England for a week visiting my sister Jo in Torquay. It was now Jo’s turn to be fighting that same terrifying disease: aggressive small-cell lung cancer. When I’d hugged her goodbye, stroking her soft, fuzzy, chemo-bald head, my bubbly, vivacious chef of a sister may have been a shadow of herself physically, but she’d still been the same old feisty, belligerent girl I knew and loved who could crack a joke like a stand-up comic. How could it be time? Had things deteriorated that quickly?
It was just after Christmas, and we were having a brilliant time sightseeing and freezing our butts off in DC when the international number flashed up on my phone. My stomach lurched. I just knew. I’d thrown my passport into my bag just in case this happened, but it had felt like a betrayal to Jo’s strength to fight on, so I’d studiously ignored the fear warning me to pack my little black dress and pumps. All I had with me were jeans, fleece socks, my winter boots, and the rather gaudy fake-fur earmuffs I’d had to buy to save my ears from the biting DC wind. It would have to do.
Once again I kissed Al and the kids goodbye, found a seat on the first flight from DC to Londo