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In light of my last post, I know some of you have been waiting for this review. I apologize for the delay (I was on vacation). But without further ado, here is my official impression of the book:

The Same Kind of Different As Me, by Ron Hall and Denver Moore is a true story (told in two voices) of friendship, loyalty, and heartbreak. Denver grew up as a sharecropper, but eventually turned away from it and landed on the streets of Fort Worth. By the time he meets Ron and his wife, Debbie, he’s an angry, unapproachable bear. But Ron (a wealthy art dealer), and his wife, Miss Debbie, are determined to love Denver through the ministry at the homeless shelter. And with time, Denver’s walls of defense come down, and he opens his heart to Mr. Ron and Miss Debbie.

The friendship aspect of this book is quite touching, and for that reason I’m glad I read the book. But approximately two thirds of the way into the book, when Miss Debbie passes away, the author’s took a side street, making the book as a whole seem like one big epic fail.

The manner in which Miss Debbie dies is really quite horrifying. Although her physical pain was very disturbing, the family’s lack of peace through her death was even more disturbing. Miss Debbie fought for life like nobody I had ever read about. In addition, her family couldn’t seem to “let go” in spite of the agony she was enduring. And so she hung on.

And hung on…

And hung on…

It left this reader wondering where the peace of God was in the midst of it all. Why was Miss Debbie hanging on so deseperately for this life, when a much more glorious, peaceful, pain free life awaited her? Why couldn’t her family bear to let her go?

Perhaps that seems really insensitive on my part. Please don’t accuse me of never having lost anyone close to me. It’s not about that. It’s about not understanding why one would keep a desperate grip on this world when it is clear that nothing else can be done. That mindset is not typical of the Christian life, and it left me wondering why Miss Debbie and her family grasped at every straw there was, including extremely painful, expensive, experimental chemo treatments for Debbie that led to nowhere.

I do understand the mentality to fight for life, and I agree that we should – up to a point. But even after it was clear that Miss Debbie was not going to make it much longer … the fight wore on and on. Perhaps she had peace, and the author simply didn’t convey it properly. But as the reader, I am left to only hope that she did. Because it certainly didn’t come through in the words her husband wrote. 

Not long after Debbie is gone, Ron invites Denver to stay permanently at their residence. Denver agrees, reluctantly, because now that Miss Debbie is gone, he’s not feeling as welcome as he once did. So during his first night of permanent residence, Miss Debbie appears to Denver in the night. He claims he never went to sleep (and therefore the ”visitation” is real and not a dream). Miss Debbie trip traps in his bedroom, making lots of footstep noises, and appears to Denver in her beautiful ”heavenly body”. The mission of her “visit” is to assure Denver that he is always welcome in their home.

I agree that the encounter was real. But I don’t agree that is was Miss Debbie. By this point in the book, I was moved to check on the back cover to make sure I read correctly that it was non-fiction.

Later in the book, when Ron and Denver are touring one of Denver’s relative’s house, another ghost appears. They didn’t see it, but the loud footsteps told them it was there. It ultimately chased them out of the house and into their vehicle. Just like a good horror movie, the brand new car wouldn’t start. After much cajoling, sweating, and fear … it finally starts, and they are able to sputter down the street, as though it were an old junk yard truck.

As if that wasn’t enough ghost stories, Denver also tells of seeing a ghost while keeping watch over Miss Debbie’s grave one night.

I was deeply touched by Ron and Denver’s friendship in the first portion of the book. But veering off into the telling of the spirit world and thereby leading others astray theologically was disappointing. Not only was I disappointed in the authors, but in Thomas Nelson. God is not the author of fear. Fear in death and fear of ghosts are not from the Lord, and yet they were both widely accepted throughout the last third of the book as part of the Chirstian life.

Unfortunately, for me, the lack of theological correctness coupled with the absence of Christian peace overrode the joy of Ron and Denver’s friendship and was fatal to the book.

It burst my bubble, if you will.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. ~2Tim 1:7