On The Edge
Letters from Readers
As I read the last chapter of On The Edge, I found my heart so full of the Holy Spirit that I thought I would explode. When I closed the book for the last time, I realized that I was crying…! cannot tell you how this book has changed my life and my husband's.
Lori Wells
I finished your book On The Edge a few months ago and reflect on its content often. I can honestly say that no novel has ever had as much real and emotional effect on me. I find myself praying more…The final few pages put me in the presence of God…I finished those pages overcome with emotion and sobbing with joy.
Jim Ezell
When I got back from vacation I ordered 25 copies and have been giving it away to my friends. It should be required reading for folks of our generation. And we have asked our three older children to read your book because we think that you have written a book that older teens can really appreciate as well. Some may object to the detailed descriptions of the less desirable relationships described in the book and also of some of the events in the book that are painfully brutal, but we felt that this makes the book more realistic for people poised on the doorstep of the 21st century.
Rev. John Yates
I cried through the entire last chapter; chill bumps stood the hair on arms up as I lived over in my mind the many ways God has worked in our lives..! pray this book will open many eyes and hearts.
Patricia James
My heart is so full I was thankful to be alone when I came to the conclusion of On The Edge today Parker, the voices rising up from the pages of this book came through you from the Holy Spirit. You're right. It is a miracle. The search can be long and painful because we are unable to simplify, to be still, to listen.
Patsy Dickey
I want to thank you for writing such a powerful book. I praise God for using you to touch others’ lives in this way. I have recommended and given your book to many people. I hear that you are working on another one…I can't wait.
Joni Towles
I am often tempted to “walk by sight” in the conduct of my affairs. On The Edge clearly shows how we listen to the voices of darkness, even while believing we are only making logical, rational “real world” decisions. Your book shows the reality of spiritual warfare. More importantly, it brings into focus the awesome power of prayer (just as described in the Bible), and the importance of showing others how God works in our life, if we seek Him.
Sam King
I'm still overwhelmed after finishing On The Edge last evening. My eyes are weary from crying so much. Oh, if only everyone would read the two scenarios presented in the book and see how glorious the Spirit-filled life is—for our good and God's glory!
Peggy Davis
What an anointed book! God has really gifted you to use writing to challenge the Body of Christ. Reading the book has stiffened my spine to do more for God here in Moscow. Thanks for being obedient to the Lord in writing these books. I know that you give Him all the glory, but I want to encourage you to keep writing as He directs you.
Rev. Teny Townsend
I was drawn in from the first page and literally was mesmerized by the gut wrenching stoiy of spiritual warfare and family destruction, then was liberated and thoroughly convicted by the counterpoint of victorious life so thoroughly painted. I truly feel that your book is a must read for businessmen, parents and children.
Roy Jones
If Parker was trying to convict me about praying, he succeeded! His book is powerful and one of the most moving I have read in a long time.
Parker Wright
My wife, my elder daughter and I have just read your book and I wanted to write to share with you the exciting impact it has had on our lives…It provided a great read that will leave long term, vivid impressions about how spiritual warfare is such an insidious battle…. Much more significant is the impact on our 14 year old daughter….the Holy Spirit worked in her heart through the book. She said it has forever changed her life, her way of thinking, and for that I owe you eternal gratitude.
Jim Wilson
On the Edge
F. Parker Hudson
Copyright © 1994
F. Parker Hudson
On the Edge
by F. Parker Hudson
Copyright © 1994 by F. Parker Hudson
All rights reserved. Written permission must be secured from the publisher to use or reproduce any part of this book, except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles.
Published in Atlanta, Georgia by Parker Hudson.
Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
On the Edge: A Novel / F. Parker Hudson
p. cm.
ISBN 0-9666614-0-0 (previously published by Thomas Nelson Publishers, ISBN 0-7852-8294-7)
1. Family—United States—Fiction I. Title
PS3558.U289705 1993 | 98-093439
813'.54—dc20 | CIP
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Copyright
Dedication
Foreword
Book One
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Book Two
Foreword
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
Epilogue
For My Wife
Alida
Whose voice of encouragement over
many years is the reason for this book
FOREWORD
What follows is a fictional account of a family in America today, including their friends and business associates. I hope to show what happens when these thoroughly modern individuals rely on their own strengths and resources to solve the problems that naturally occur in their lives. I also hope to communicate the different results when their lives are submitted to the Lord and the Holy Spirit is set free to act as our God has promised He will.
These words are by no means my own. As may be obvious from the first, I am neither a theologian nor a pastor; I am a businessman. Much of what is written here has been inspired by listening to other godly men and women, who have had the patience and the gift to teach, to preach, and to minister the Word to me and to many others. And while I don't want to appear presumptuous, the words are not mine because they seemed to flow, as I wrote, from a higher source.
I have tried to describe the spiritual warfare that is raging today, at this hour, for the hearts and souls of our family members, neighbors, business associates, government leaders, media executives, and others. In describing this warfare, I have used some visual images which may not be traceable to particular verses in the Bible, but I hope will nevertheless communicate the battles, which I know are going on even as you read these words.
I must warn you that there are a few events and descriptions in this book which are not particularly pleasant or Godlike. I take no joy in including these. I have tried to choose words that are as inoffensive as possible to describe these situations. I have included them because my heart breaks at what we are doing to ourselves, as individuals and as a nation, and it is my conviction that we must understand exactly what is happening to have any chance of b
eing set free from it. If these events offend you, I cannot change them, because they are all too real. If my choice of words offends you, then I sincerely apologize.
Let me also be quick to say that before Christ came into my life and made a new person of me, I had experienced many of the situations described herein. I am, in that sense, the chief of sinners in this book. But I have also experienced firsthand the infinite power of His Holy Spirit to change lives, instantly and permanently. I give Him all the glory and all the praise for what He has done in my life, and in the lives of my wife and children. The power is there if we just ask for it.
Besides our Lord, I also want to thank the following people, who have helped me over many years of teaching and/or have delivered particular messages that have stuck with me through the years. They are Michael Youssef, Roy Ludwig, Joe Spence, Adolph Coors, IV, John Guest, Archie Parrish, Ed Silvosa, and Mark Rutland. Some of the images and statements in this book began with ideas I heard first from these men.
I also want to thank a wonderful group of people who made specific suggestions and gave encouragement on early versions of this book. They are Gil and Bonnie Meredith, John and Laura Wise, Caroline Kerr and her daughters Caroline and Helen, Margie Wynne, Bob Morgan, Bo and Paula Smith, Carrie Guest, Bradley Fulkerson, Betty Lee Hudson, Sue Cortese, Dot Vick, and Bob Hupka, Gene Hall, Byron and Florence Attridge, and Tony and Rae McLellan.
To them and to the Lord belong the thanks for any words you find helpful as you consider what is happening today. If any words are not helpful, then let that responsibility be mine alone.
May God bless you and your family as you read these words and consider His promises to each one of us.
Book One
1
TUESDAY, APRIL 18 – It was only midafternoon, but already it was gloriously dark to Balzor. One of Satan's most experienced demons, Balzor was not visible to human eyes. But he was no less real. And just like a devastating, invisible wind, he was no less deadly. From his vantage point high above the northwest section of the city—his personal responsibility for forty years now—the sun's position was really irrelevant. His whole area had grown progressively darker during his years there, and he was immensely proud of his accomplishments. As he shifted his dark form and exhaled a breath of broiling sulfur, he watched his minions going about their tasks below, content that the long war was now almost won.
Richard Sullivan had a problem. The contract documents for the McKinney and Smith corporate expansion had to be reviewed with Bruce McKinney in the morning, but he had not even looked at the file their investor's attorney had delivered to his office before lunch.
Kristen. Kristen Holloway. They had spent all of lunch—and two hours more—tossing and turning in her penthouse apartment bedroom. For almost three months now they had been meeting there “for lunch” a couple of times every week. A small voice seemed to tell him at times that it was wrong, but it only took one look at her long reddish-brown hair, her young face, and her nearly perfect body to drown out any voice of reason. He had tried to stop, but he was lost in her. Consumed by the passion which swelled in them both—a passion he and his wife of eighteen years had once shared, but which she could no longer understand, he was convinced. And now he had to call her and make excuses for why he had to work late.
The receptionist at the television station recognized his voice on the telephone and put him straight through to the programming director.
“Janet Sullivan,” said the voice in the receiver—a voice which twenty years ago in college, he momentarily reflected, could by itself make his heart leap. But not now; not for years. Why? he started to think, but then stopped himself.
“Hi, uh, honey, it's me. I've had a terrible day and I'm way behind on reviewing this important contract for Bruce and David. It's the capital expansion for their company they've worked on for months. I've just got to get it finished tonight, to review it with them first thing in the morning.”
“But Richard, tonight is Tommy's first game, and he thinks the coach may give him a chance to play in the infield. You told him you'd be there. Even Susan is cutting tennis practice to come. Can't you work on the contract in the morning?”
“I wish I could, but it's too important to chance it. There will be lots of other games, and maybe I can sneak in late if I get through in time. It's at Riverside isn't it?” he added, sounding hopeful, but realizing as he spoke that a late appearance never really happened. “Anyway,” he said, trying to end the discussion quickly before it became another argument, “don't bother to fix me anything for dinner. I'll grab something on the way.”
“Oh, all right,” Janet acquiesced, “but, Richard, you've really got to spend more time with the kids. They're teenagers now, and they need you.”
He could feel the hurt and the pain in her voice, but before he could respond with something that met her feeling, a voice welled up inside him and reminded him that all she did was nag. He knew the kids were important, but what about his work? How was he supposed to pay for all the things his family needed and wanted? Not on Janet's salary! And Kristen never nagged like this. Why couldn't Janet understand him and his needs like Kristen did? Janet was always too busy being an “executive”!
Barely holding back his anger, which erupted almost instantly when Janet's words hit his own suppressed guilt, he lashed out at her, lying as sternly as possible: “Look, I've had a very busy day—I've worked very hard—I'm doing the best I can—I'll be there as soon as I finish this contract. OK?” Hearing his own voice speak the words, he convinced himself that it was in fact his work, and not his affair with Kristen, that was keeping him from his family. That felt much better.
After Janet's quick but unhappy goodbye, he replaced the receiver and took out a handkerchief to wipe his suddenly sweaty hands before he picked up the contract file. Kristen. He smelled her perfume—he had used the same handkerchief only two hours before to wipe the sweat of their passion from her forehead. As he put the handkerchief back in his pocket, he was already visualizing Thursday's luncheon appointment.
He could hardly wait.
Tommy ran up the aisle of the school bus, chasing his baseball cap as it sailed from teammate to teammate. His was the latest cap to suffer this fate on the way to Riverside High, and upon successfully retrieving it, he stuffed it into his back pocket. As he retreated down the aisle, he defended his cap against several spirited grabs and did a fake slide into his seat next to Brent Holcombe, who had already removed his own cap in self-defense.
Tommy was a ninth grader on the fence. Like many fourteen-year-old boys, caught awkwardly in between, he didn't know whether he was a child or a man. A few of his childhood friends seemed very mature now and acted almost as if they knew something he didn't. And maybe they did. He was not very sure of himself. Some of the guys were dating regularly now and talked obtusely about their latest conquests. He doubted that much of their talk was true, but he really didn't know. How could he? A little skinny, with a shallow chest which had apparently not read the health texts about filling out, he sometimes wondered if the girls in his grade would ever even know he existed.
Brent Holcombe shared his uncertainty and his doubts. They had become good friends ever since Brent transferred to Northpark last year Thev were similar, almost like soulmates. They were neither popular nor unpopular. They were neither superior athletes nor bookworms. They were squarely in the great middle, by almost any “standard,” and in a large class it was easy for them to be lost in the crowd. So he and Brent stuck together, a two-boy support team, defending themselves as best they could from those who were bigger, smarter, faster, better looking. And sharing almost everything together, including the outfield on their baseball team.
Having a popular big sister at the same high school didn't help matters. Tommy was always Susan's little brother. Not that Susan was the most popular or most beautiful girl in the junior class—she wasn't. But she was pretty enough and good at most things. People, both boys and girls, just
seemed to like her and enjoyed being with her.
And she was generally OK to him. Oh, they had experienced a few knock-down fights several years ago. But as their outside interests grew, an undeclared truce settled on their relationship. Tommy would have to admit, if anyone ever pushed him, that their truce was also a reaction to the escalating war between his parents, which neither he nor Susan understood or talked about much. But on those occasions when the strange mixture of anger and ice that was now their parents’ relationship invaded their own world, he and Susan sometimes exchanged glances, trying to reassure one another.
Without being able to explain it, he felt sorry for his mother. Dad seemed to have no time for any of them, and Tommy could almost see his mother slowly wilting before their eyes. Lost sometimes, she just seemed like she didn't know what to say or to do. And he couldn't help her. He was confused and inexperienced and wanted someone to explain life and women and relationships to him. How could he help his mother? Why didn't his father make her happy? They had almost everything they could ever want. Wasn't that important? What was going on? Were anyone's parents happy? Had he done something? Was it his fault? He didn't know how or why, but he clearly knew that his parents were unhappy, and that added sadness, anger, guilt, and fear to the naturally volatile feelings that swirled around inside him every day.
On the Edge Page 1