One family will do whatever it takes to save all that they hold dear—a World War II saga of survival and hope from “a writer of great skill and vitality” (Sarah Harrison, international bestselling author). Summer 1936: A sunny day in Kent, a perfect afternoon for a garden party, and everything seems right in the tranquil and ordered world of the Jordan family. But before the day is out that peace is shattered due to a war being fought in a country not their own. Summer 1940: London is at war, and for the first time in the history of combat a civilian population is under attack from the air. As a consequence—also for the first time—a generation of young men is called upon to face the enemy not from within an organized force on land or on sea but in individual and lethal combat in the skies above the green, fertile and until now peaceful fields of southern England . . .

Elves are a people of clans, tribes, and nations. Their lives are filled with family. When her village ended and her parents where killed and her revenge cost her the last of her family, Loralil was cut loose of the ties that bind elves to life. Karleen and Levy have managed to keep her from death wishing and pulled her back from her inner darkness, but she refuses to speak. Out of concern they hit the road again to bring her to the last known enclave of Grey Elf healers. They can only hope those mystical healers can help her find a fragile peace.

"Introduces an innovative, practical approach to resolving an enduring issue: How can conflicts be resolved in polarized societies and fragile states?"--

This anthropological study of Ladakh analyses the means by which small communities create spaces of order amidst the heterogeneous forces of modernity. In doing so it also filling a conspicuous gap in the secondary literature on Tibetan law.

Examines successes and failures of large-scale interventions to build peace in El Salvador, Cambodia, Haiti, Somalia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina. Sheds lights on the unique conditions for and constraints on peacebuilding in each country and examines the quality and coherence of international responses. Cousens is director of research at the International Peace Academy. Kumar is affiliated with the Office of the Special Representative of the UN Secretary-General for Children and Armed Conflict. Annotation copyrighted by Book News Inc., Portland, OR

Several regions of the world are characterized by persistent internal conflict and deeply rooted structures of violence. This work explores why domestic and international efforts to re-establish order, human security, democratic processes, and a developing economy are proving difficult to achieve.

It is perhaps our noblest cause, and certainly one of our oldest: to end suffering. Think of the Buddha, Chuang Tzu, or Marcus Aurelius: stoically composed figures impervious to the torments of the wider world, living their lives in complete serenity—and teaching us how to do the same. After all, isn’t a life free from suffering the ideal? Isn’t it what so many of us seek? Absolutely not, argues Todd May in this provocative but compassionate book. In a moving examination of life and the trials that beset it, he shows that our fragility, our ability to suffer, is actually one of the most important aspects of our humanity. May starts with a simple but hard truth: suffering is inevitable. At the most basic level, we suffer physically—a sprained ankle or a bad back. But we also suffer insults and indifference. We suffer from overburdened schedules and unforeseen circumstances, from moral dilemmas and emotional heartaches. Even just thinking about our own mortality—the fact that we only live one life—can lead us to tremendous suffering. No wonder philosophies such as Buddhism, Taosim, Stoicism, and even Epicureanism—all of which counsel us to rise above these plights—have had appeal over the centuries. May highlights the tremendous value of these philosophies and the ways they can guide us toward better lives, but he also exposes a major drawback to their tenets: such invulnerability is too emotionally disengaged from the world, leading us to place too great a distance between ourselves and our experience. Rather than seeking absolute immunity, he argues most of us just want to hurt less and learn how to embrace and accept what suffering we do endure in a meaningful way. Offering a guide on how to positively engage suffering, May ultimately lays out a new way of thinking about how we exist in the world, one that reassures us that our suffering, rather than a failure of physical or psychological resilience, is a powerful and essential part of life itself.

For all of the doubts raised about the effectiveness of international aid in advancing peace and development, there are few examples of developing countries that are even relatively untouched by it. Sarah G. Phillips's When There Was No Aid offers us one such example. Using evidence from Somaliland's experience of peace-building, When There Was No Aid challenges two of the most engrained presumptions about violence and poverty in the global South. First, that intervention by actors in the global North is self-evidently useful in ending them, and second that the quality of a country's governance institutions (whether formal or informal) necessarily determines the level of peace and civil order that the country experiences. Phillips explores how popular discourses about war, peace, and international intervention structure the conditions of possibility to such a degree that even the inability of institutions to provide reliable security can stabilize a prolonged period of peace. She argues that Somaliland's post-conflict peace is grounded less in the constraining power of its institutions than in a powerful discourse about the country's structural, temporal, and physical proximity to war. Through its sensitivity to the ease with which peace gives way to war, Phillips argues, this discourse has indirectly harnessed an apparent propensity to war as a source of order.

"... Explores the connections between fragile statehood and violent conflict, and analyses the limitations of outside intervention from international society."--P. 4 of cover.

We are living in challenging times. And it is easy to escape, pine for the “good old days,” or unrealistically dream our way into the future. Instead, we are invited, in this book, to face our troubled world, to identify our inner struggles of faith, and to voice our anxieties and pain. And most importantly we are invited to wrestle with the God who so often seems absent. Living with a fragile hope, we are called by the gospel to nurture an inner life that responds with faith and courage to the brokenness of our world and the woundedness of our inner being.