You can order your copy today from my website. Just click the link below.

Order Your Copy Today!

“I’ve learned that spiritual disciplines and right doctrine produce wonderful Pharisees but do not heal the broken,” Alan Smith. And that’s only chapter 1. #Unveiled

-       Kelle Branting

What I love about the book so far is how it’s confirming that I do indeed hear God’s voice. It’s so meaningful to hear someone else put into words what I’ve been experiencing in the last 6 months. Thank you so much for this book Alan.

-       Evan Agee

Alan, I just finished Unveiled tonight and wanted to thank you for writing it. I especially loved your thoughts about engaging our imagination during prayer and worship times, I’m finding that it adds a sense of anticipation to my prayer time that has been incredibly sweet. What I loved most about the book were the countless confirmations that I am indeed hearing His voice. Blessings on you and your family brother as you continue to be faithful. I look forward to getting to know you more throughout the course of eternity!

-       Evan Agee

Alan I’m in chapter 2. It’s a fantastic topic and book. Thanks for letting Holy Spirit lead you to write it.

-       Tammy Kling

Just started your book tonight. Wow, and oh my goodness. I can feel His presence while I’m reading and I’m only on the 4th chapter!!! Love it!

-       LeAnne Wadsworth

I need more books, I already gave them all away.
Great job Alan, your book really ministered to me. I never read books more than once, but I’ve finished yours and am looking forward to using it many times over in group studies. I can’t wait to see what God will do!

- Jon Pignatelli

Yeah your book is really good. I am only reading 2 chapters at a time because that’s really all time will allow most times. But really—that’s all you need to read at a time so you can get your heart wrapped around it. Good good stuff.

-       Jonathan Holmes

One of my favorite Alan Smith quotes from Unveiled is on page 219: “Faith is not about my effort to believe, it is about my surrender as a branch to the vine.” Thank you Alan. Your book has helped me understand so much!

-       Ann Fangio

Hi Alan, just finished Chapter 7 “Seated in Heavenly Places” and tears of gratitude could not be withheld while reading page 133 and of course the pages are almost all yellow from highlighting! Thank you for writing this book! I am so using it with clients soon!!!!!

-       Ann Fangio

Love this line from your book Alan: God seems very comfortable with allowing life circumstances to squeeze us uncomfortably (p. 52). BIG SMILE after reading that! I just finished Chapter 3 and almost the whole chapter is highlighted! Can’t wait to finish it!!!

-       Ann Fangio

UNVEILED…this book should be in the hands of everybody!!! Thank You, Jesus for using Alan in my life today to help me better understand the depth of Your love for me!

-       Ruth Menefee

At a ski lodge in Tahoe with my husband reading “Unveiled” by Alan Smith..all I can say is Tahoe is beautiful, but this book is life changing……seriously, get your copy today!!!

-       Kerrie Oles

Really enjoying “Unveiled” by Alan Smith

-       Steve Oglesby

I will spread the word; your book is life changing.

-       Cathy Ethredge

Hey Alan Jon turned me onto a copy going into chapter 2 feeling Blessed already.

-       Frank Vargas

Reading. Love it so far. Inspiring and enlightening. I’m thinking, Christmas presents!

-       Linda Osborne

Just got word from someone we gifted your book with yesterday…said she can’t put it down…hubs left for work this morning with it in hand…thankful for my own copy now that I can highlight and earmark!!!

-       Deborah Vinson

Just finished reading Unveiled today. Great read! It really spoke to a lot of things that I have been seeking God about lately. It also messed with me a little bit…in a good way. Thanks for writing it Alan.

-       Matt Schmuker

p.57 “Our experiences authoritatively shape our expectations and become obstacles obstructing our ability to allow the Bible to defind what is the norm.” I would read faster but it’s incredible statements of truth like this one that are causing me to go slowly through your book. Thank you!

- Cindy Snyder

Just finished ch. 4. Your exegesis/commentary on Eph. 2 is perhaps the best I’ve ever read. It’s really waking me up to new realities (at least my perception of them) about how God wants to reveal himself and speak to me. Good stuff.

-       Edward Jones

Close to finished, but will be going back to chew on the major points. So insightful!! Thank you.

-       Mike Smith

This is most definitely a book you will want to have! It just may be life changing for you!

-       Becky Synan

Order yours today!

Click below to download audio from my workshop on “The Baptism in the Holy Spirit” at our 2011 Connect Conference.

The Baptism in the Holy Spirit

By Ezra Boggs

My father’s name was Billy Ray; he was as Southern as his name suggests. His dad, Marvin Otto, was a tent revivalist preacher in the 1930s and 40s, but also a coal miner.

My dad was a giant of a man; a Vietnam veteran with the 101st airborne, with arms thick as tree trunks that sported an assortment of tattoos. The initials REB were across his shoulder and served a twofold purpose: his affinity to Dixie, and my initials.

My first name is Robert. My namesake was General Robert E. Lee, and on more than one occasion my mother has reminded me that I was very, very close to being named Robert Elvis Boggs. Thank you Lord that my mother had the tenacity to protest that suggestion.

My earliest memories of my dad always involve music. I still have very vivid memories of his habitual evening practice of playing album after album while he paced back and forth in the living room, running his fingers repeatedly through his coal black shoulder-length hair and becoming more inebriated with every song. For me he served as a visual commentator, asking me, “Did you hear that? Reb, did you hear that?” His arms pointing and flailing as if he were suddenly transformed into an orchestra conductor, his gestures visually drawing my attention to a favorite lyric, melody, guitar lick, or whatever it may have been. And of course, I always did hear it because the sheer volume he played his music at altered anything hanging on our neighbor’s walls. This scenario played out virtually every night, sometimes until two or three am or later, from age three until I left home some 17 years later. It was this very connection with my dad that initially compelled me to set foot on a stage and share the deepest passions and fears of my heart with strangers; I solely wanted to make him proud.

Despite these living room gesticulations, my dad only ever stepped on stage once in his entire life; even then it wasn’t planned. He and his twin sister Bonnie had purchased tickets to see a performance of Dracula, and unfortunately the actor who was to portray the Transylvanian terror fell ill. My dad had no prior training, no script, but was the exact size for the costume. My Aunt Bonnie had no idea where her brother was until he walked on stage.

The only other ‘performing’ my dad involved himself in was the singing of my grandfather’s coal mining songs. One can imagine from the fervid depth of verse after verse after verse rooted in hopelessness and utter despair that coalminers are not the most optimistic human beings. Unlike Sneezy, Sleepy, and Dopey who ‘whistle’ while they work, coal miners sing ‘Ludlow Massacre’, ‘Sixteen Tons’, ‘1913 Massacre’, and ‘Dark As A Dungeon’:

Come and listen you fellows, so young and so fine,

And seek not your fortune in the dark, dreary mines.

It will form as a habit and seep in your soul,

‘Till the stream of your blood is as black as the coal.

It’s dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew,

Where danger is double and pleasures are few,

Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines

It’s dark as a dungeon way down in the mine.

It’s a-many a man I have seen in my day,

Who lived just to labor his whole life away.

Like a fiend with his dope and a drunkard his wine,

A man will have lust for the lure of the mines.

I hope when I’m gone and the ages shall roll,

My body will blacken and turn into coal.

Then I’ll look from the door of my heavenly home,

And pity the miner a-diggin’ my bones.

These songs possess characteristics of dejection and despondency that on his best day Trent Reznor couldn’t produce at gunpoint. For hours on end dad would sing these songs, always concluding with ‘Goodnight Irene’:

Irene goodnight

Irene goodnight

Goodnight Irene, goodnight Irene, I’ll see you in my dreams

Sometimes I live in the country

Sometimes I live in town

Sometimes I take a great notion

To jump in the river and drown

These songs are job security for Prozac, only made worse by the fact that my dad could not sing!!!

Thus, after repeated requests from my sister Amy and myself, one Saturday afternoon he took my portable Sony cassette deck, requested that we both go play several hours with friends down the street; and while we were gone, he recorded himself singing the songs.

When we returned he was very quiet and didn’t make eye contact; it may have been the only time in my life I saw my dad embarrassed.

From that moment forward, he never sang again.

I wish I understood then my dad’s desire to share with me those aspects of his childhood that were unique to him. I wish I could’ve respected that and not stolen it from him by means of humiliation.

Sadly, my dad passed away suddenly and unexpectedly the day after my first child was born; he was only 43. To make matters worse, somewhere in the midst of this tumultuous reality, most of the items reminding me of my dad were given away by his vindictive widow or they simply disappeared, including a lone cassette that preserved his voice singing songs from his youth. And while I can easily play Willie Nelson’s version of ‘Dark As A Dungeon’ or Tom Waits singing ‘Goodnight Irene’ for my children, it can never be the same.

Twenty years ago I buried my dad. Under his right hand was a photograph of him smiling while he held his one day old granddaughter named Jaydon; under his left hand, an MFSL CD of Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side Of The Moon’. In the time that has passed, a day does not go by without thinking about him. Even more so now as I recently celebrated my 43rd birthday and have come to realize how truly young my dad was when he died. And while I have also realized that our similarities are numerous (workaholic, bad temper, and prone to grandiloquence), our differences, all rooted in my commitment to serving Christ and sharing the Gospel, are even more copious.

Thus, while I grieve over a lost recording, I am convicted to appreciate the individual strengths  and weaknesses of those around me now. After all, our foibles are deeply rooted in the fabric the Lord wove together in our mother’s womb that make us who we are as individuals distinct from one another.

So, as I slowly begin to see the huge influence a dad can have on his children:

• virtually all of my kids draw the Lord with a large goatee
• several of them use five dollar words to express fifty cent sentiments
• all of them love music

I sincerely pray that my example will not be one ‘where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal’[Matthew 6:19], but rather ‘Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.’ [I Corinthians 11:1]. Therefore, as my life bears the fruits of the Spirit, pursue that example, embrace those instances, and please forgive me for merely ‘imitating me’ so frequently.

I wish I could hear that voice sings those songs just once more … but I can’t. However, as time remains, we all should savor those facets that make our dads uniquely who they are and purpose to enjoy and experience these moments face to face while we still can.

Hold his hand and listen intently to every syllable of a story you may have heard countless times; but this time, hear his words as never before. Because a day will come when small voices will ask,” What was your Daddy like?” And in those instances, may the richness of a dad’s righteous legacy be seen, heard, and lived through you.

One day, I pray that I’ll hear his voice singing again, but this time instead of coalmining anthems, he’ll be declaring ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!”

I love you Dad.

You are missed.

First, I want to recommend a couple of books that will give you some great insight into the Jewish background of our Christian faith. The Bible is mostly written by Jewish people about Jewish ideas and events. Without this background, many treasures within scripture will be opaque.

Our Father Abraham: Jewish Roots of the Christian Faith by Marvin R. Wilson

Jesus the Jewish Theologian by Brad H. Young

Next, I want to recommend an amazing book about the role of scripture in our lives.

Scripture and the Authority of God: How to Read the Bible Today by N.T. Wright

These next two books are about the gospel, and represent some discussion and even some disagreement about some essential issues. Interacting with Wright and Piper will serve to enrich and deepen your own understanding of the gospel, justification, faith, and righteousness.

The Future of Justification: A Response to N.T. Wright, by John Piper

Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision by N.T. Wright

We often think of the gospel only in terms of getting us to heaven when we die; but the Bible’s emphasis, without minimizing the previous, is a heaven to earth perspective. These two books will help you begin to think from that direction.

When Heaven Invades Earth: A Practical Guide to a Life of Miracles by Bill Johnson

Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection and the Mission of the Church by N.T. Wright

These next books don’t fit in a specific category together, but they will help you “Think Differently” about how God interacts with man, will present some new and fresh ways to interact with God relationally day by day, and will help you think through some of your assumptions about God’s sovereignty and the freedom he gives to his creatures.

Think Differently Live Differently: Keys to a Life of Freedom by Bob Hamp

Intercessory Prayer: How God Can Use Your Prayers to Move Heaven and Earth by Dutch Sheets

Satan and the Problem of Evil: Constructing a Trinitarian Warfare Theodicy by Gregory A. Boyd

“And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” ” (Matthew 26:39, ESV)

“Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” ” (Matthew 26:42, ESV)

“So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again. ” (Matthew 26:44, ESV)

Sometimes when we pray, we struggle. We struggle to get an answer. When we do get an answer, it’s sometimes not the one we’re hoping for. There’s a tension between our confidence in God’s goodness, the reality that relationship with God necessitates a persistent and bold process of pursuit, our own desires, and our commitment to surrender to his desires. In prayer, we are pulled this way and that as we negotiate through these seemingly competing factors. And prayer, we discover, is the only place where all of them are truly at home.

Jesus found this to be true.

In following him, we cannot avoid Gethsemane.

As is spoken to Aragorn in The Return of the King as he seeks to travel the Paths of the Dead, “The way is shut.” The difficulty isn’t simply that Man has become disconnected from God, he has lost his capacity to reconnect. We cannot get from here to there. The way is shut.

C.S. Lewis, in his book The Grand Miracle, defines the Christmas story as the greatest miracle of all time. He rates it higher even than the resurrection. Why? Because it’s so unexpected. That God would defeat death is an amazing thing, but not so unexpected as the incarnation. We might expect God to be victorious, but we could never anticipate him becoming an infant. We expect him to be huge not small. We anticipate his glory, not his diapers being changed.

But this is precisely what he did. He lowered himself. He became small.

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.”  (Philippians 2:5–7, ESV)

God became nothing. We could never have become something apart from this. He came here. We could never have gone there apart from this. He became the door. He became the Way.

Nancy, me, and our three kids are with Jon, Lauren, and their three. Jon and I are in the front, both a little bleary eyed from trading shifts driving all night. We left DFW at 11:30pm last night. I have that sick to your stomach feeling  I used to get at lock-ins when I was a youth pastor. This is why I’m not a youth pastor any more.

Nancy and Lauren are on the bench behind. Lauren woke up about half an hour ago when we hit Baton Rouge traffic. She’s leaning against the side of the van now and gazing out the window at Louisiana flying by at 80 miles per hour. Nancy is still sleeping, contorted in a position certain to require a neck and shoulder massage later in the day.

On the two benches behind are various configurations of children. Teddy (seven) is watching a movie on my iPhone. The others, all teenagers or nearly teenagers are spread out in a mad pile of legs, arms, blankets and pillows. Lauren, Cara, and Anna in one pile. Noah, Roman and Teddy in another. Noah and Roman don’t seem too disturbed by Teddy’s early morning activities. Give them time.

I’ve known Jon since I was 14 years old, Lauren since I was 16, about the same time Nancy moved to Texas from New York and into my life. We grew up in church together, went our seperate ways for a season, and then life brought us back together again in our very early twenties. We’ve been good friends ever since.

You can’t replace the kind of history we’ve shared. Marriage, pregnancies, kids, moves, ministry, weeks, months, years, decades. We know each other’s stories. We tell some of the best ones over and over. No one else would get it. You had to be there. To them I’m not “Pastor” Alan. I’m just Alan. They’re comfortable to be with in a way difficult to put into words. Nancy and Lauren are like sisters. In some ways they are very different and yet they seem to go together in a way that brings out the best in both of them. I think they’re both more beautiful because of each other. Jon and I are alike in many ways but also very different. He can fix anything. He’s an outdoorsman and is about all things fishing and camping. I go along for the ride because I enjoy his company. Besides, he has all the gear. I admire him a lot.

No one tells a story like Jon. I’m certain that there will be at least ten moments in the next week where me, Nancy, and Lauren will be unable to breathe because we’re laughing so hard our ab muscles are completely locked up, tears coming down our face, hoping for some moment in the latest anecdote that will allow us to inhale once or twice.

Friendship is a precious thing. I’ve been blessed through the years with some amazing friendships, each unique and precious in its own way. I think friendship is like farming. It takes time to prepare the ground, plant the seed, and allow time to do what only time can do. But the harvest is worth it.