To my daughter, Madelyn. Out of the youngest of my children, you honor me with your love and your service. You, out of all my kids, cannot be manipulated. You already identify the manipulation and alienation from your mother at such a young age, and you never let it stop you from wanting to see me. I wrote this book for you. God pays attention to your quiet work, and through your grief, God will be on your side always.
We live in an era of influencers. We are constantly told that to be important, we must be visible. We need followers, likes, and a platform. We measure our impact by the width of our audience rather than the depth of our compassion. But the Bible presents a radically different metric for greatness. In the Kingdom of God, the most powerful people are often the ones nobody notices until they are gone. I wrote Tabitha: The Girl Who Died and Came Back because I want to introduce our children to a different kind of superhero. Tabitha, also known as Dorcas, didn't split the Red Sea. She didn't call down fire from heaven. She didn't kill a giant. She sewed. She used a needle and thread to stitch dignity back into the lives of the forgotten. And yet, she is the only woman in the New Testament explicitly called a disciple. Her story is a stunning reminder that God does not look for ability, He looks for availability.
The setting of this story is the coastal city of Joppa. It was a busy, bustling place, likely full of important merchants and Roman officials. But the camera of Scripture zooms in on a house filled with widows. In the ancient world, a widow was the most vulnerable person in society. She had no protection, no income, and often no voice. Tabitha saw them. She didn't just pray for them, she clothed them. I love the tangibility of her ministry. She didn't just have good thoughts, she had busy hands. When she dies, the scene is heartbreakingly beautiful. The disciples send for Peter, who is in a nearby town. When Peter arrives, he isn't met by a committee of elders showing him Tabitha's resume. He is met by weeping women holding up tunics and robes. Look, they say through their tears. Look what she made for me. Look how she loved me.
I wanted to capture the emotion of that room in the book because it teaches us what a true legacy looks like. Tabitha’s legacy wasn't words, it was warmth. It was the fabric on the backs of the poor. Peter, moved by the Holy Spirit, clears the room. He kneels and prays. Then he turns to the dead body and says, Tabitha, get up. She opens her eyes. This resurrection is significant not just because it shows God's power over death, but because it shows God's valuation of Tabitha. He wasn't done with her. He gave her back to the widows because her work mattered. It validates every small, unseen act of service performed by believers today. It tells us that every meal cooked, every floor swept, and every child comforted is noticed by heaven.
To bring this lesson into the world of Minecraft and TikTok, I wrote the story of Madelyn. Madelyn is a modern girl who feels insignificant. She looks around at school and sees the kids who are loud, the kids who are athletic, the kids who are popular. She feels like she has nothing to offer. She isn't the star of the play or the captain of the team. But Madelyn has a gift, she notices people. She notices the elderly neighbor, Mrs. Gable, whose yard is full of leaves. She notices the stray cat. She notices the new kid sitting alone. In the story, Madelyn decides to use her hands to help. It isn't glamorous. Raking leaves is sweaty, boring work. But she does it. She starts baking cookies for people who look sad. She starts doing the Tabitha work of her generation.
I wanted Madelyn’s journey to mirror Tabitha’s because I want kids to understand that they don't have to wait until they are adults to be useful in the Kingdom. Madelyn learns that kindness is a language that everyone understands. She realizes that while the popular kids might get the attention, the kind kids get the hearts. When Madelyn faces a moment of discouragement, wondering if her small acts even matter, she sees the ripple effect. She sees Mrs. Gable smile for the first time in months. She sees the atmosphere of her classroom shift because she chose to be kind instead of cool. This is the modern parable, you are powerful when you serve. You change the world not by shouting at it, but by loving the people right in front of you.
The Action Plan in this book focuses on Using Your Hands. We live in a digital age where kids are losing touch with the physical world. I want to challenge them to put down the screens and pick up a tool. It might be a pen to write a letter, a rake to clean a yard, or even a needle and thread like Tabitha. We give them a challenge to do Secret Service, acts of kindness that no one knows about but God. We teach them that the secrecy is part of the worship. When you do something good and don't post it on social media, you are declaring that God's applause is enough for you. We also talk about identifying the widows in their world. Who are the lonely. Who are the bullied. These are the people Jesus would be hanging out with, so that is where we should be too.
I included the Bible Hero Badge on this book because Tabitha redefines heroism. In our Marvel-obsessed culture, we think heroes destroy things. Tabitha mended things. She is a hero of restoration. She fought the enemies of cold, hunger, and loneliness. I want our daughters to look at Tabitha and see that they can be warriors of compassion. I want our sons to see that tenderness is not weakness, it is a strength that even death cannot conquer. Tabitha is a superhero because she loved her neighbors as herself, literally covering them with her love.
Why does this story matter today. Because we are starving for connection. We are lonely. We are divided. We have forgotten how to take care of each other. Tabitha’s story calls us back to the basics of human decency and Christian charity. It reminds us that the church is not a building where we consume religious content, it is a body where we care for the hurting. If we want to see revival, maybe we don't need more smoke machines, maybe we need more sewing machines. Maybe we need to stop trying to be famous and start trying to be faithful.
Writing the scene of the resurrection was a delicate task. I didn't want it to feel like a magic trick. I wanted it to feel like a holy interruption. Peter took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. That touch is important. It connects the miracle to the community. He then presented her alive to the saints and widows. Imagine the party that night in Joppa. Imagine the tears of joy. I want families to read this and feel the joy of the resurrection. I want them to know that the God who raised Tabitha is the same God who breathes life into our dead dreams and our tired hearts.
Ultimately, Tabitha: The Girl Who Died and Came Back is a book about the value of the invisible. It is for the child who feels like a background character. It is for the parent who feels like their daily grind of laundry and lunches is meaningless. I want you to read this and know that God is keeping a record. He sees every stitch. He sees every tear. He sees every act of love. You are building a legacy that will outlast you. You are weaving a tapestry of grace that covers the nakedness of the world. So keep stitching. Keep serving. Keep loving. You are doing the work of the Kingdom, and that work never dies.