As a mother and an aunt, I have always loved sharing stories with the children in my life. I wanted to create fun, exciting adventures rooted deeply in the Word of God—stories that bring biblical principles to life in a way that captures a child’s imagination and makes learning about God an absolute joy. Growing up and raising a family from an African American background, I often noticed a missing piece on the bookshelves. It can be incredibly dif children’s Bible books featuring characters who look like us, share our vibrant culture, and feel truly relatable to our children. Representation matters. Children need to see themselves re
That is how Billie was born. Billie is a re curious children in my world. He reminds me so much of my two sweet boys, Andrew and Matthew, as well as my beloved nieces and nephews in our church
This book, Billie & His Magic Red Gloves too. It is my prayer that through Billie’s journeys, children everywhere will discover just how much God loves them, how powerful faith can be, and how exciting a
10-year-old Billie Tatum Jones loved his noisy, cozy home. Money was tight in their tiny city of Gary, but love was everywhere. Billie was the oldest child. His sister, Frannie, was autistic and loved spinning her favorite blue button. His brother, Shawn, was always talking and telling jokes. Their parents, Larissa and Calvin, kept the house warm with laughter and big plates of beans and rice.
With the Feast of Trumpets quickly approaching, the family gathered around the living room rug. "Soon, we will blow the ram's horn," Calvin said, holding up a shiny shofar. “Just like Joshua did at the Battle of Jericho. God told the Israelites to march around the city walls for seven days. On the last day, they blew the trumpets, shouted, and the giant walls fell flat down!” Frannie happily tried to mimic the trumpet sound. Billie looked at his red gloves resting on his lap. He knew exactly where his next adventure would be.
Thousands of Israelites were standing in perfect silence. Right at the front, Billie saw the priests carrying the golden Ark of the Covenant. Beside them stood Joshua, looking brave and determined. Behind them towered the stone walls of Jericho, so thick that chariots could drive on top of them. "Wow," Billie whispered, ducking behind a palm tree so he wouldn't interrupt.
Suddenly, the priests raised long, curved rams' horns to their lips.
BBRRRRRAAAAAAH!
The sound of the shofar echoed through the desert. Billie watched in awe as the entire army began to march around the city. Nobody said a word. The only sound was the rhythmic thudthud-thud of thousands of sandals in the dust.
Billie marched along in the back, his magical red gloves pulsing with a warm, comforting light. He realized something important: more so than weapons, the Israelites had their faith, their trumpets, and God's promise. They didn't mind looking different to the people watching from the city walls.
On the seventh day, the march quickened. The priests blew one long, mighty blast on the horns.
"Shout!" Joshua commanded. The army let out a roar that shook the earth. Billie shouted too, his shy voice ringing out loud and clear. CRACK! The massive stone walls of Jericho crumbled into dust right before his eyes.
