Case for Grace for Kids

Case for Grace for Kids


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What does “grace” really mean? How can God’s grace impact your life? How can you experience grace every day?

This new book by New York Times bestselling author, Lee Strobel, shows how God’s love is for everyone—no matter what. Through stories of everyday people whose lives have been changed, you will discover God’s love and the power of forgiveness. You will experience God’s amazing grace and be able to share it with others.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780310736561
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Publication date: 02/24/2015
Series: Case For... Series for Kids
Pages: 176
Sales rank: 532,260
Product dimensions: 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.50(d)
Lexile: 780L (what's this?)
Age Range: 8 - 12 Years

About the Author

Lee Strobel was the award-winning legal editor of The Chicago Tribune and is the bestselling author of The Case for Christ, The Case for Christ Devotional, The Case for Christianity Answer book, The Case for Faith, The Case for a Creator, and The Case for Grace. With a journalism degree from the University of Missouri and a Master of Studies in Law degree from Yale, Lee has won four Gold Medallions for publishing excellence and coauthored the Christian Book of the Year. He serves as Professor of Christian Thought at Houston Baptist University. Visit Lee’s website at:

Jesse Florea has written and edited for Focus on the Family for twenty-five years. As editorial director for youth publications, he oversees Clubhouse and Clubhouse Jr. magazines, and he cohosts the “Official Adventures in Odyssey” podcast. Jesse has written or cowritten more than thirty books, including The Case for Grace for Kids and the bestselling The One-Year Sports Devotions for Kids and Devotions for Super Average Kids. He lives with his wife, Stephanie, in Colorado Springs.

Read an Excerpt

Case for Grace for Kids

By Lee Strobel, Jesse Florea, Terry Colon


Copyright © 2015 Lee Strobel and Jesse Florea
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-310-73656-1




I grew up in an upscale neighborhood northwest of Chicago. My dad worked hard to build his business and provide everything we needed and more — as far as material things were concerned. He loved my mom. And everybody in the neighborhood seemed to like him.

Still, my relationship with him was always frosty, but not in a cool snowman-like way. It was cold. Maybe I needed more positive comments than the other kids. I don't know. He didn't take me to Cub Scouts, cheer at my Little League games, watch my speech tournaments, or go to my graduations.

Over time, I learned that the only way to get his attention was through winning things. So I strived for good grades, was elected president of my school, was the editor of the school newspaper, and even wrote stories for the community paper. Still, I don't remember any positive words coming from my dad. Not one.

I do remember, however, once when I was a kid, the entire family went to church together. We did this fairly regularly. But after the service on this particular Sunday, my dad drove everyone home — but he forgot to bring me. I can still picture my panic as I searched wildly around the church, looking for my family. My heart pounded, and my hope sank as I realized my father had left me behind.

It was a mistake on his part, but it was difficult for me not to see it as symbolic of how our relationship was developing.

One evening when I was about twelve years old, my father and I fought over something. I walked away feeling shame and guilt. I went to bed vowing to try to behave better, to be more obedient, to somehow make myself more acceptable to my dad. I can't recall the details of what caused our conflict that evening, but what happened next is still vivid in my mind.

I dreamed I was making myself a sandwich in the kitchen when a luminous angel suddenly appeared and started telling me about how wonderful and glorious heaven is. I listened for a while then said matter-of-factly, "I'm going there," which I meant, of course, at the end of my life.

The angel's reply stunned me. "How do you know?"

How do I know? What kind of question is that? "Well, uh, I've tried to be a good kid," I stammered. "I've tried to do what my parents say. I've tried to behave. I've been to church."

"That doesn't matter," the angel said.

Now I was staggered. How could it not matter — all my efforts to do the right thing, to be dutiful, to live up to the demands of my parents and teachers? Panic rose inside me. Words wouldn't come out of my mouth.

The angel let me stew for a few moments. Then he said, "Someday, you'll understand." Instantly, he was gone.

I woke up in a sweat. It's the only dream I remember from my childhood. Through the years it would come to mind every once in a while, and yet I would always shake it off. It was just a dream.

As I got older, I found myself getting more confused about heaven and spiritual matters. When I became a teenager, my parents insisted that I attend Bible classes at the church.

"But I'm not sure I even believe that stuff," I told my dad.

His response was stern: "Go. You can ask questions there."

But questions were only reluctantly tolerated during class. And the answers I did receive only scratched the surface. Nobody seemed willing to dig in and understand how deep their faith was. I actually emerged from those classes with more doubts than when I started.

Doubts continued to annoy me as I grew and my teachers insisted that science had explained away God. A creator was no longer needed. I became increasingly doubtful. Something was missing — in my family and in my soul — that created a gnawing need I couldn't even describe at the time.

Years later, I was driving down Northwest Highway in Palatine, Illinois, when I flipped on the radio. I can still recall the exact location, the time of day, and the sunny weather. But soon I couldn't see anything at all, because what I heard flooded my eyes with tears.

I didn't catch the full story, but it was about family and faith and God and hope. The voice belonged to someone who was born about the same time I was and yet whose life, in its astonishing horror and brutality, was the opposite of my own. Still, there was an instant connection, a bridge between us. She seemed to have lived out the answers to the questions nobody at my church could explain. She understood heaven and being part of God's family at a gut level. Her faith wasn't stuck as thoughts in her head. She knew the living God in her heart.

I had to track her down. I had to sit down and hear her story, one on one. I had to ask her my questions. Somehow I knew she held a piece of the puzzle of grace.


Excerpted from Case for Grace for Kids by Lee Strobel, Jesse Florea, Terry Colon. Copyright © 2015 Lee Strobel and Jesse Florea. Excerpted by permission of ZONDERKIDZ.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Introduction What Is Grace? 11

Chapter 1 on the case 17

Chapter 2 The Orphan 25

Chapter 3 The Prodigal 49

Chapter 4 The Professor 71

Chapter 5 The Evangelist 87

Chapter 6 The Executioner 103

Chapter 7 The Hero 125

Chapter 8 The Thief 137

Chapter 9 Dream Come True 145

What the, Bible Says about Grace 157

Notes 168

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