Acknowledgments

IN THE SUMMER OF 2014, my agent, Bill Jensen, leaned over and whispered, “I have a fabulous idea for your next book.” We were having dinner at the Christy Awards, and while our tablemates discussed all things Book Industry, he told me about Martin Luther and Katharina von Bora. Literally —just the names. And I, a lifelong Southern Baptist who was nominated for a book about a party-girl flapper, thought to myself, No way. But then, as the evening wore on, and I had no award to accept, I read a Wikipedia page on my smartphone, and by the time Bill brought me my conciliatory drink, Katharina von Bora was alive in my head. For the rest of that summer, while I wondered if the smart people at Tyndale would ever entrust an Americana girl with a Renaissance woman, the entire story unfolded. Therese and Girt. Jerome. Martin. And Katharina, Käthe, Kat, Katie, and Kate.

So thank you, Bill Jensen, for knowing everything about everything and sharing your brilliant ideas with me.

And thank you, Jan Stob and the entire Tyndale team, for trusting me with this tale and being willing to keep it a secret for so long.

I am so blessed to be part of such an awesome community of writers. I love you, my Monday night group, for always being so encouraging, and refreshing, and energizing, and brutally honest! You are my prayer warriors and my family in Christ. Also, my ACFW chapter —how I love my Saturdays at La Madeleine, that dark wooden room. What strength we draw from each other. You all inspire me to work on and on, even when discouragement looms.

This book would not have happened without the daily (hourly?) messaging with Rachel McMillan. With you, my friend, the word Luther brings its own life, and you have held me up in some pretty dark moments of doubt. You are the best, though I have not saved you for last.

My last bit of gratitude extends to the women who live their lives —today, and in all generations stretching back to the birth of the church —in sacrifice to our Savior, Jesus Christ. I admit to falling a bit in love with the life of a nun: the sorority, the simplicity, the silence. There’s a beautiful serenity at the heart of service. Then I think about the glorious freedom I have in Christ. Freedom to know that my eternity is secure, even when my days don’t seem to be. How I am loved, despite my flaws. How I am held when the world seems shaky. How he has given me the perfect family for my moods and messes.

Finally, thank you, all my readers, for being so patient in waiting for this story to make its way to you. I’ve been waiting too. So for Beth Armstrong, who has been asking me almost every day for three years, “How is Mrs. Luther coming along?” Well, here she is.

I think she was worth the wait.