You are Invited to a Dinner with Jesus of Nazareth The mysterious envelope arrives on Nick Cominsky’s desk amid a stack of credit card applications and business-related junk mail. Although his seventy-hour workweek has already eaten into his limited family time, Nick can’t pass up the opportunity to see what kind of plot his colleagues have hatched . . . The normally confident, cynical Nick soon finds himself thrown off-balance, drawn into an intriguing conversation with a baffling man who comfortably discusses everything from world religions to the existence of heaven and hell. And this man who calls himself Jesus also seems to know a disturbing amount about Nick’s personal life. • “You’re bored, Nick. You were made for more than this. You’re worried about God stealing your fun, but you’ve got it backwards.… There’s no adventure like being joined to the Creator of the universe.” He leaned back off the table. “And your first mission would be to let him guide you out of the mess you’re in at work.” • As the evening progresses, their conversation touches on life, God, meaning, pain, faith, and doubt—and it seems that having Dinner with a Perfect Stranger may change Nick’s life forever. Praise for Dinner with a Perfect Stranger "Here’s a wonderful feast for the mind and soul! Pull up a chair and eavesdrop on this provocative conversation. If you’re like me, you’ll hear questions that match your own — and answers that can change your life." — Lee Strobel, author of The Case for Christ , The Case for Faith , and The Case for a Creator “There's just one thing people need in order to live a happy, abundant life: to be convinced that God loves them. Want to be convinced? Read Dinner With a Perfect Stranger. The author deftly anticipates and answers every question. I predict this little book will become a classic--one of a handful of modern books (like Mere Christianity ) that people read to kindle or rekindle faith. All of the "business" surrounding the dinner is done so well it reminds me of Babette's Feast --simple, earthly details that profoundly convey spiritual reality.  Dinner with a Perfect Stranger is truly a wonderful book that makes me feel I've just heard the gospel for the very first time.” — Mike Mason, author of The Mystery of Marriage, Champagne for the Soul, and Practicing the Presence of People “The choice is yours: Enjoy a delicious meal of, say, veal fantarella with grilled vegetables. Or spend a quiet hour reading David Gregory’s book. You may find an altogether different sort of hunger has been sated by the final page. Brilliant in its simplicity, fearless in its presentation of the truth, Dinner with a Perfect Stranger  is one invitation you'll want to RSVP.” – Liz Curtis Higgs, best-selling author of the Bad Girls of the Bible series and several novels David Gregory is the author of A Day with a Perfect Stranger, The Next Level , The Last Christian, and the coauthor of two nonfiction books. After a ten-year business career, he returned to school to study religion, sociology, and communications. He holds Master’s degrees from Dallas Theological Seminary and the University of North Texas. He has been a frequent teacher, trainer, and conference speaker since 1996. A native of Texas, he now lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife, Ava, and their four children. Learn more about this book at www.dinnerwithaperfectstranger.com. Chapter Two: The Seating “Dinner for one, sir?” The maître d’s appearance from behind the wine bar dashed my option of bolting before anyone noticed me. “Sir? Dinner for one?” “No, I’m… I’m supposed to meet someone. I’m Nick Cominsky…” “Ah, Mr. Cominsky. Right this way.” He grabbed a menu and led me past the wood lattice that bordered the single dining room. The place hadn’t changed since I had brought Mattie for Valentine’s two years back. Two staggered tablecloths, one white and one red, covered each of the tables. Large mirrors created the image of a side dining area. The windows on two sides of the room overlooked the Ohio River. I could see lights from the Kentucky side reflecting on the water. The current provided nice background noise, like those ocean CDs you can buy to help you sleep. Unfortunately, some lame Andrea Bocelli song that Mattie loved virtually drowned out the river. Tuesdays looked slow at Milano’s. Guests occupied only four tables. I inhaled the smell of toasted bread as we passed an older party of six laughing at a front table. A couple in their early twenties held hands and made goo-goo eyes at each other in the far right corner, the guy oblivious to his shirt sleeve dangling in his ravioli. In the middle of the room, two weight-challenged women giggled as they plunged into a monstrous chocolate torte. And in the far corner on the left, a thirty-something man in a blue business suit sat by himself, perusing a menu. The maître d’ led me over to him. Rising from his chair, he stuck out his hand