QUICK DELIVERY
Swift dispatch
MY LITTLE PICTURE BOOK 1
Struggling to teach the Bible to your child in a digital era?
Your most powerful teaching tool isn't a new commentary; it's a picture.
In this essential guide, Ed Agasa; chaplain, deacon, and digital-age lecturer, provides an actionable framework for Visual Scripture. Learn his proven method for using imagery to make complex stories immediate, abstract truths tangible, and ancient lessons urgently relevant.
Make the Bible fun for the children to read using vivid pictures. Move your community from passive listening to active seeing, inspiring them using the word of God. Above all, bringing them to Christ; the author and finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2).
Whispers of Unbreakable Grace
Preface
This is not a book of answers. It is a collection of whispers. 100 poems.
It was born in the quiet spaces between the crash and the calm, in the long hours where the only sound is the metronome of a heart that refuses to quit. It is for anyone who has ever had to be strong without a spotlight, who has endured a battle fought in the silent theatre of their own soul.
We live in a world that celebrates the roar—the decisive victory, the public triumph, the visible summit. But what of the strength that does not shout? What of the resilience that is not a sudden, brilliant flash, but a slow, steady burn in the deepest marrow of the spirit? This is the territory these poems seek to map.
The cedar that bends in the gale, the river that carves the canyon unseen, the ember that glows beneath the cold ash—these are not metaphors for weakness, but for a different, more profound kind of power. It is the power of quiet endurance. It is the grace of remaining whole when everything seems designed to break you. It is the faith that hums in the dark, a frequency heard only by the heart and Heaven.
These one hundred poems are an ode to that unseen fortitude. They are a testament to the battles waged and won behind a calm face, to the roots we sink in private soils of faith, and to the dawns that find us, again and again, still standing.
My hope is that in these pages, you find a companion for your own quiet struggles. May you see your reflection in the patient moss, the resilient reed, and the unbreakable thread. May you recognize your own strength in these whispers, and may you carry forward with the quiet, unassailable knowledge that the most powerful victories are often the ones endured without a witness.
Except One.
The Silent Threat by Ed Agasa
Some rules are meant to be broken. Others are cages we don’t see until it’s too late.
The most sacred rule in therapy is the transference trap: the patient’s feelings are not real. They are echoes. Ghosts of old wounds. To mistake them for truth is a failure. To encourage them is malpractice.
This is not the story of a therapist who broke the rules.
This is the story of one who discovered that the rules were an illusion—a fragile shield against a truth too terrifying to face: that the room meant to be a sanctuary can become a cage. That the most dangerous person in the world does not carry a weapon. They carry insight.
The man who called himself Kyle Summers did not want to be fixed.
He did not want to be healed.
He wanted to play.
And he understood, with chilling clarity, that the most satisfying game is not played on a board, but in the mind. That the ultimate prize is not a king, but a self.
The most terrifying monsters do not hide in shadows. They sit across from you in a well-lit room. They speak softly. They listen carefully. They do not break the rules of civilized engagement—they turn them into weapons. Their violence is not of the body, but of the soul: a slow, meticulous unraveling of a person from the inside out.
This novel began with a question that still haunts me:
What happens when a healer of minds meets a master of manipulation?
When the therapist becomes the patient?
When the one place designed for safety becomes the most dangerous room in the world?
The Silent Threat is a descent into that darkness.
May it unsettle you. May it move you.
And may it remind you that some threats don’t make a sound, until it’s far too late.
--- Ed. Agasa