How is Christ the answer to a strained relationship with child, parent or sibling? What if I am being mistreated — what does the atonement say about that? How can I discover the desire to repent when I don't feel the need to repent? These are the challenging questions of daily life, the questions to which the gospel must provide an answer if it is to have living, cleansing, redeeming power.

The Peacegiver is a book about the answers to these questions. In both content and form it is unlike other books about the atonement, for it unfolds as compelling story in which the characters learn about the Atonement as they struggle over the problems in their lives — problems we each share. The book therefore allows us not only to “learn about” the Atonement but also to have an experience with it.

“My peace I give unto you,” the Savior declared. The Peacegiver explores in a deeply personal way what we must do to receive the peace he stands willing to give.

Praise for The Peacegiver:

“The rich and soul-stretching experience that comes from reading The Peacegiver has deeply blessed my life. I highly recommend this remarkable book!” — Ardeth Greene Kapp

“An invaluable, compelling book of hope and discovery — about Christ, about others, and about ourselves — unlike, I think, any other book you have ever read.” — C. Terry Warner

“The Peacegiver is a profound, and profoundly helpful, exploration into how the Lord offers to free us from the clutches of every impure thought, feeling, belief, and habit. I really value this book. ” — Steve Young

“The Peacegiver is a 10. Deeply moving, it is a must for anyone concerned with loving relationships, their marriage, and how Christ brings healing to the human heart and soul.” — James Michael Pratt

“The Peacegiver sheds precious light upon the poignant but practical working out of the atonement in our personal lives. It has planted an indelible message upon my heart.” — Robert L. Millet

Other Readers:

“What an amazing book! I've finally been able to wrestle it away from my son, who basically stole it from me before I could begin. But I have it back now, and it's unbelievable. So powerful! I've never read such a clear and moving account of the atonement — about what it was, how it works, and what I must do to make it work for me. Thank you.”

“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I'm sitting here crying as I have just finished The Peacegiver, and it has hit me so hard. Actually, I just arrived home from a golf trip, and I read it on the way home. I was in the back seat of a car with three other guys and I was bawling the whole way. I had to keep looking out the window so they couldn't see me crying. They kept wondering what my problem was. I swear this book was written just for me, and I can't thank you enough.”

“I took The Peacegiver with me to the mountains, where I had planned a day hike. I stopped for lunch and began to read. I could not stop reading nor could I stop the tears. I recognized myself from the first page. I read until almost dark and had to hustle off the mountain. I have bought copies for each of my kids. I need to begin to correct more of the terrible errors — of them watching me at war with their mother — in their early years. I need to do more to love my sweet wife. I also sent notes to all my siblings who are also difficult people married to difficult people with difficult kids. I am so grateful for this work. It reads so wonderfully but I have known something of the work it takes to make it look like it flows so effortlessly. I am so grateful for the careful scholarship and attention to the spirit. Thank you so much.”

“After I read the book last week, I gave a copy of it to my mother. Yesterday she called just bawling. She had read the book once already and was halfway through it for the second time, and we just had the most amazing conversation. She has never had an understanding of the atonement like that, she said. And although the issues are too personal to share, because of the book, she has had such an amazing change of heart toward someone in her life that had done truly terrible things to her that she is feeling at peace for the first time in years. She now feels a calming peace, and a release from the bitter rancor that has poisoned her soul for years. It's just amazing. I can't tell you what a miracle this is.”

“My husband and I settled onto our couch, with a cozy blanket, The Peacegiver, and a red pencil. Now, that's the way I will encourage anyone to read it — together! What a book! The Peacegiver has opened my eyes to a new way of looking at the atonement, and sent me to the Bible to discover for myself the heretofore unknown story of Abigail. What a gift this book is! Thank you for sharing that gift so generously!”

“I bought The Peacegiver tonight, got home late and started reading it, and couldn't put it down! I've been looking for a book like this for a long time. It's the best book I've read in years. Thank you so much!”

“Wow! I am amazed at the insights this book reveals from the scriptures. I thought I was good at understanding scriptures, but this is a totally new level of understanding. What a gift! I thought I understood the atonement, but now I see that I had no idea. I can't thank you enough for this book!”

“This book just blows the doors off. Just awesome. My tear-stained face hurts from all the smiling.”

“The Peacegiver presents the foundations of our existence with simplicity and clarity. It has left an indelible impression on my mind regarding the fall and its relationship with the atonement and Jesus' relationship with me. The book communicates heartfelt and staggering truths. In so many ways it spoke directly to me. I can't thank you enough.”

“I just finished The Peacegiver last night. I don't know what to say about it except WOW!”

"The only way to be happy is to live the gospel. It is not possible to sin enough to be happy."

A Storm in the Soul

The night was cold, in
more ways than one. Outside, a heavy wind pounded thick raindrops against the
windows. The eaves above Rick Carson’s bed creaked, as they always did in such
windstorms, and he could hear the lawn furniture scraping slowly along the patio,
as if each chair were reaching out in a futile attempt to grab a handful of
concrete. At times it felt as though the house’s wooden frame was bending, a
movement Rick supposed he could have measured if he had either the inkling or
the instruments to do so. He felt himself leaning heavier into his bed, perhaps
in his own futile attempt to keep the house anchored to its moorings or in an
equally futile attempt to moor himself to
something solid.

Behind him lay his wife of twelve years.
They were hugging their respective edges of the queen bed, she facing the
window and Rick the wall, careful not to touch each other. It had been three
days since they had spoken a word to one another except out of necessity—nearly
as long as the rain had been pounding at their home. Rick lay awake, wondering
what he had done to deserve this. Our marriage is a sham, he thought, despite what he considered to have been his best
efforts. There is no tenderness, no understanding. He ached with despair.

Things had been so bad with Carol for so
long that Rick could barely remember the good times. There had been some. In
fact, during the early years of their marriage Rick had thought he was quite
happy, and he had believed Carol to be as well. But the increasing unhappiness
of the intervening years had called these early beliefs into question. Rick was
no longer sure how happy he or Carol had ever
been. His memories of the past and hopes for the future sagged under the weight
of a depressing present.

Despite the cloud of unhappiness he felt
enveloping his marriage, Rick had until then done his best to minimize and deny
the problems. He survived by employing a kind of inner diversionary
trick—by pushing from his mind thoughts of Carol, his marriage, and the
injustices and pains that inhabited his inner chambers and by concentrating on
other things. Everything will be okay if I can only hang on, he thought, as he did his best to put a happy face on their
relationship. Carol will come around. But Carol hadn’t "come around," and their relationship was only
deteriorating the more.

As he lay there, Rick could sense
something amiss in the patience he had been purporting to exercise. For the
longer he exercised it the more bitter and impatient he had become. He felt not
unlike the drug addicts and alcoholics who assuage themselves with the naive
lie that "this hit or drink will be the last." His marriage was in trouble, and
what frightened him most was that he wasn’t sure he cared anymore.

Over the last five or so years he had
shed many tears over the predicament he found himself in. One night, Carol had
suggested that perhaps it would be better if he moved out for awhile. "The time
apart might help us appreciate each other more," she had said. But her voice
lacked conviction and rang hollow of hope. It was a voice Rick knew, for he
heard it within himself as well.

Rick remembered that terrible night as
he now lay listening to the storm. When Carol suggested he leave, it was like
hell itself opened wide its jaws to give Rick an immediate and threatening view
of what he had wanted to keep himself from seeing. He began to shake
uncontrollably, and tears that felt like they originated in the marrow of his
bones gushed from his eyes. The tears, shudders, and cries came in torrents.
Just as one spasm of heartbreak would seem to pass and his body would start to
settle, a new wave would burst from deep within him and his wailing would begin
anew. He felt his hope for happiness, which he had clung to until that moment,
slipping away with each teardrop. All the while, Rick recalled, Carol lay next
to him, emotionless. She hadn’t reached over to comfort him.

As he lay in memory, Rick could still
feel the echo of those shudders within him. Things had calmed a bit between
himself and Carol over the past eighteen months, but the bleak essentials of
their relationship remained the same. He hadn’t left as Carol had asked
because, probably out of pity, she had withdrawn the suggestion. But her words
still hung in the air between them—"Perhaps we need to get away from
each other . . . maybe that will help
. . . "

Rick knew better. With the indifference
he was feeling within himself, he feared that he might like the time away—time away from demands, expectations,
criticisms, and the weight of Carol’s unhappiness that pressed upon and accused
him whenever they were together. Even worse, Rick was afraid Carol might like
the time away as well—a risk with implications he couldn’t bear to think
about.

The streetlight in front of their house
cast enough glow through the storm and against the wall Rick was facing to
illuminate the painting of the two of them that hung there. The artist had
captured Carol perfectly, he thought, from the straight line in which she set
her mouth, to the determination in her jaw and the icy glare of her eye. Even
the painter couldn’t deny it, he thought to
himself, feeling all the more discouraged. Why didn’t I see it before we
married?