Then Sings My Soul
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1904, Chudniv, Ukraine. Playing hide-and-seek in bucolic fields of sunflowers, young Jakob never imagines the horrific secrets he will carry as he and his brother escape through genocide-ridden Eastern Europe.1994, South Haven, Michigan. At age 94, time is running out for any hope that Jakob can be free from his burden of guilt.When Jakob?s wife dies, he and his daughter, Nel, are forced to face the realities of his worsening dementia?including a near-naked, midnight jaunt down the middle of main street?as well as emerging shadows Nel had no idea lay beneath her father?s beloved, curmudgeonly ways.While Nel navigates the restoration and sale of Jakob?s dilapidated lake house, her high school sweetheart shows up in town, along with unexpected correspondence from Ukraine. And when she discovers a mysterious gemstone in Jakob?s old lapidary room, Jakob?s condition worsens as he begins having flashbacks about his baby sister from nearly a century past.As father and daughter race against time to discover the truth behind Jackob?s fragmented memories, the God they have both been running from shows that he redeems not only broken years, but also the future. Review Sorrells reminds us that no matter how dark the night, hope is never lost. Not if we have eyes to see.Katie Ganshert, author of No One Ever Asked Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Then Sings My SoulBy Amy K. SorrellsTyndale House PublishersCopyright © 2015 Amy K. SorrellsAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4964-2617-8CHAPTER 1Nel Stewart pushed her bronze, wire-rimmed glasses up on her nose as she peered through the thick window over the wing of the plane and watched the sunrise turn the tops of the gray clouds golden yellow. The color reminded her of the aspens she'd hiked beneath the day before. She'd wanted to soak in as much of Santa Fe as she could, hoping the life she'd found there in nature and the art she loved so dearly would buoy her, if not brace her, for what awaited her in Michigan. She turned a grape-size, turquoise stone ring around the fourth finger of her right hand. It was one of the first pieces of jewelry she'd made, setting it herself in a wide band of pounded silver.She grimaced as she bit back the corner of her thumb's cuticle until it bled."Coffee?" the flight attendant whispered, leaning slightly over the sleeping bear of a man in the seat next to her. "This is my last pass before we land in Detroit.""Sure. Black, please. And do you have a bandage?" Nel raised her eyes apologetically."I do." The flight attendant - Amanda, her name tag read - smiled as she bent toward the bottom of the refreshment cart. Nel studied Amanda's perfectly coiffed blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, with not a stray hair or split end in sight, and she felt suddenly insecure about her own long hair, loose, untrimmed, and never colored. She'd felt proud of her salt-and-pepper grays and the natural way she and her artisan friends wore their hair in Santa Fe. Now she felt almost silly.Amanda finished rummaging in the beverage cart and handed Nel a bandage.As Nel pulled the beige strip tight around her stinging thumb, she thought about how she didn't feel forty-three.A couple of stray layers fell toward her face as she reached forward to pull the tray table down from the seat in front of her.Her mom loved to say, "You're only as old as you feel."Amanda handed Nel a napkin followed by a steaming cup of coffee.Nel returned her gaze to the window and wondered if her mom, Catherine Stewart, had felt eighty-two, or if she'd gone right on feeling young until she died two days ago. Nel thought she'd been aware of how old her parents were getting, but in reality, she hadn't been. She'd failed them both in the worst possible way, not being there when Mom died.Nel pulled the shade down over the window as the sun glared through and made it nearly impossible for her to read and review the
1904, Chudniv, Ukraine. Playing hide-and-seek in bucolic fields of sunflowers, young Jakob never imagines the horrific secrets he will carry as he and his brother escape through genocide-ridden Eastern Europe.1994, South Haven, Michigan. At age 94, time is running out for any hope that Jakob can be free from his burden of guilt.When Jakob?s wife dies, he and his daughter, Nel, are forced to face the realities of his worsening dementia?including a near-naked, midnight jaunt down the middle of main street?as well as emerging shadows Nel had no idea lay beneath her father?s beloved, curmudgeonly ways.While Nel navigates the restoration and sale of Jakob?s dilapidated lake house, her high school sweetheart shows up in town, along with unexpected correspondence from Ukraine. And when she discovers a mysterious gemstone in Jakob?s old lapidary room, Jakob?s condition worsens as he begins having flashbacks about his baby sister from nearly a century past.As father and daughter race against time to discover the truth behind Jackob?s fragmented memories, the God they have both been running from shows that he redeems not only broken years, but also the future. Review Sorrells reminds us that no matter how dark the night, hope is never lost. Not if we have eyes to see.Katie Ganshert, author of No One Ever Asked Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Then Sings My SoulBy Amy K. SorrellsTyndale House PublishersCopyright © 2015 Amy K. SorrellsAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4964-2617-8CHAPTER 1Nel Stewart pushed her bronze, wire-rimmed glasses up on her nose as she peered through the thick window over the wing of the plane and watched the sunrise turn the tops of the gray clouds golden yellow. The color reminded her of the aspens she'd hiked beneath the day before. She'd wanted to soak in as much of Santa Fe as she could, hoping the life she'd found there in nature and the art she loved so dearly would buoy her, if not brace her, for what awaited her in Michigan. She turned a grape-size, turquoise stone ring around the fourth finger of her right hand. It was one of the first pieces of jewelry she'd made, setting it herself in a wide band of pounded silver.She grimaced as she bit back the corner of her thumb's cuticle until it bled."Coffee?" the flight attendant whispered, leaning slightly over the sleeping bear of a man in the seat next to her. "This is my last pass before we land in Detroit.""Sure. Black, please. And do you have a bandage?" Nel raised her eyes apologetically."I do." The flight attendant - Amanda, her name tag read - smiled as she bent toward the bottom of the refreshment cart. Nel studied Amanda's perfectly coiffed blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, with not a stray hair or split end in sight, and she felt suddenly insecure about her own long hair, loose, untrimmed, and never colored. She'd felt proud of her salt-and-pepper grays and the natural way she and her artisan friends wore their hair in Santa Fe. Now she felt almost silly.Amanda finished rummaging in the beverage cart and handed Nel a bandage.As Nel pulled the beige strip tight around her stinging thumb, she thought about how she didn't feel forty-three.A couple of stray layers fell toward her face as she reached forward to pull the tray table down from the seat in front of her.Her mom loved to say, "You're only as old as you feel."Amanda handed Nel a napkin followed by a steaming cup of coffee.Nel returned her gaze to the window and wondered if her mom, Catherine Stewart, had felt eighty-two, or if she'd gone right on feeling young until she died two days ago. Nel thought she'd been aware of how old her parents were getting, but in reality, she hadn't been. She'd failed them both in the worst possible way, not being there when Mom died.Nel pulled the shade down over the window as the sun glared through and made it nearly impossible for her to read and review the