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Articles About Dr Daniel E Pann

Date: July 19, 2007
Book signing set for pastor?s latest release
Nancy Hastings, Staff Writer
517.437.6016
First aspiring to be an electrician, Daniel Pann went into the ministry and also became a writer.
This July marks his 15th year as pastor of the Hillsdale Baptist Church. In 2005, the Hillsdale Daily News did a story on his first published book: ?A Pregnant Woman Beat Me,? describing the ?trials, tribulations and delights encountered by pastors.?

To promote his second published book, ?Fished All Night For Nothing,? Pann will hold a book signing from 1 to 3 p.m. Saturday at Lamp Post Christian Bookstore, 21 W. Chicago St., Coldwater.

Having been a brook trout fishing enthusiast all his adult life, Pann shares ?humorous and touching experiences in pursuit of the wily trout to illustrate how the timid of heart can share their faith and encourage others,? states his Web site at www.drpann.com. Michigan?s Upper Peninsula serves as the ?perfect backdrop? with stories like, ?Read the Water, Please Lord, Can I Throw It Back?,? ?Keepers? and more.

?This book is a means of helping people share their faith and share encouragement with others,? Pann said.

Born in Hillsdale to Tom and Kathy Pann, Daniel Pann, 52, was the middle child of seven. He spent some time growing up in North Adams, but his family moved to Airzona his freshman year in high school.

?We kicked around from town to town when I was growing up,? he said. ?Dad pastored several churches and it was nothing to come home and find out that we were moving again.?

Pann is a graduate of Liberty University, Liberty Baptist The?ological Seminary and Anderson?ville Theological Seminary. He is also a licensed General Contrac?tor in Michigan. He and his wife, Cindy, reside in Hillsdale along with their children and three grandchildren.

He was recently the recipient of the Faithwriters Golden Seal for Excellent Read for his latest book, ?Fished All Night For Nothing.?

Pann hopes readers will want to ?sit alongside? as he ?ties on another hook, untangles lines and ponders the next fish.? He?s hoping people of all ages ?will want to give this kind of angling a try.?

Deacon Ray Roberts said under Pann?s leadership, Hill?sdale Baptist Church has experienced ?significant growth.?

?His books are good and I?ve enjoyed reading them all,? Roberts said. ?The knowledge is handed down from the Holy Spirit and transferred to the printed page to affect many lives.?
Date: April 27, 2007
Comfort One Another
By Dr. Daniel Pann

Sirens wailed past the house in our sleepy town. We looked up in time to see the State Police, Sheriff and local Law enforcement go racing by. This was unusual for everyone to be involved. When emergency strikes, the various agencies respond individually, but not all together-unless it is really big.

My wife called up our daughter and asked if the scanner was turned on.

"No, but it would be."

In a few minutes she called back to say there had been a shooting outside of town in a trailer park, and the place was blocked off.

We live in a rural community of 9,000, about forty miles from any big city. Still, it was just a short time before our windows were shaken by the sound of whirling helicopters flying in news teams.

Several hours went by before the phone rang again. By now it was early evening, and the news was not good. One of the elderly ladies in our church had been shot and killed. As the story goes, she and her sister (both in their sixties) were sitting in lounge chairs underneath a shade tree. A man across the street had been engaged in an ongoing feud with the sister. Words had been roughly spoken toward a little girl, and the sister responded in defense. This angered the man, who went inside his trailer, took hold of a rifle, walked across the street and shot the sister.

Our church lady had run inside her home, and he fired two more shots into her front door. Betty was struck and killed instantly.

The murderer fled to another town and was apprehended there. Later, I would meet the rest of the family at the hospital. It was a sad sight to see the remaining sisters clinging to each other and sobbing uncontrollably. Words seemed inadequate.

It reminded me of another tragedy many years before. I was pastoring out west in a small cowboy town when the phone rang. An elderly lady had just been notified that her only son and his wife were shot and killed by undocumented workers at their ranch. They had been lying unattended for a few days before anyone discovered the bodies. The culprits were later found driving around in the stolen vehicle.

I buried husband and wife in matching oak caskets underneath the simmering Arizona sky. His momma's head sagged against her chest as quiet tears flowed uninterrupted down a weathered face. I tried my best to comfort her.

Then there was John. I first met John at my mother's home. She had survived two other husbands-Dad died of an aneurysm, and Mom's second husband succumbed to cancer.
She was lonely, yet full of life. God put her and John together, and soon I had the privilege of marrying them.

Both brought a spring to each other's step, an added reason to get up each morning and, more importantly, they provided mutual companionship. They could be seen going down the road together, ready to split a meal at the restaurant, or observed buying an ice cream cone with the senior discount. On Saturdays, they would make the rounds of yard sales, looking for that special bargain. If it cost more than a quarter ? well, that was too much.

At first we thought John was slowing down due to being a few years older than Mom, but in-depth testing revealed he had cancer. All the years of asbestos exposure was finally taking its toll. Within months, he went from a winter vacation to a wheelchair and, ultimately, a Hospice bed.

In his last days, Mom never left his side, sleeping on the couch or the recliner next to the bed. We had to get him up to use the facilities and all that other stuff. I spent the last week at their house, sleeping in the spare bedroom as he got to be too much for her to handle.

Two days before his last breath, they went on a date. We put him in his own bed and they held hands all night long. I had just stepped out to run an errand with my wife when Mom called me on the cell phone. John was dead.

What does this have to do with the church? Each one had professed faith in Christ, each one attended church, and each one gave the church an opportunity to minister. The Bible says in I Thessalonians 4:18 that we are to, "?comfort one another?"

This is not just an admonition to individual Christians, though it should begin with us, but one for a body of believers as well. We were able to pray, weep and encourage the surviving family with a promise of the future and hope for reuniting. It wasn't just the meal, or the flowers. What really spoke to hearts was the personal touch and genuine expression of Godly compassion.

Too often we are calloused or detached with someone else's pain. Rest in this, God sees all we do in His name, and He rewards accordingly.

We held services for a brother and sister about a year ago. The family came from across the States, and our church was packed. Most of them could not speak fluent English. Cruz and Janey were Hispanic, and died within a day of each other. Janey had cared for Cruz since his heart attack, and when he fell to the last one, she must have missed her brother too much, for shortly thereafter, Janey joined him in Glory.

Our church fed the family tacos, burritos, enchiladas, tamale and more. That certainly stayed in their memory, but what really stood out was when we opened the service with a prayer in Spanish, and closed with an "Adios Senora Janey, Adios Senor Cruz."

As a church, let's try and minister to the need of whomever we make contact. God is watching us.
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Dr. Daniel E. Pann pastors Hillsdale Baptist Church in southern Michigan. He and his wife, Cindy, enjoy their adult children and three grandchildren. He is the author of, 'A Pregnant Woman Beat Me' and 'Fished All Night for Nothing.' You can contact Dr. Pann through his website at http://www.drpann.com
Date: August 16, 2006
Slain woman?s faith, triumphs celebrated
First victim of trailer park rampage laid to rest
Chad Dally, Staff Writer
517.437.6017
Family, friends and even those who never knew Annabelle ?Betty? A. Brown gathered Tuesday to celebrate the life of a woman whom they said was loyal to those she cared about and dedicated to her religious faith.

About 100 people filled VanHorn?Eagle Funeral Home in Hillsdale to pay their respects to Brown, 63, who was killed Friday night along with her sister, Viola Mae Morgan, 61, outside their homes in the Hillside Acres mobile home park in Reading Township.

Dr. Daniel Pann, Brown?s pastor for nearly two years at Hillsdale Baptist Church, told those gathered that ?things like this aren?t supposed to happen.

?Moms are not supposed to go this way, they should live to a ripe old age as a mother, a sister, friend and relative,? Pann said. ?They?re supposed to be sugar and spice and everything nice, and Betty was.

?But as we wrestle with this, and will continue to do so in the days and weeks ahead, it?s important to understand that sin runs rampant. People do things that are abominable, things that are abhorrent.?

Pann said it?s time to look forward, and that ?we?ve had enough of this tragedy. It?s time to focus on the triumphs of Betty?s life and to be encouraged that this is not the end for her, it?s a continuance, or you might even say a beginning.?

He also consoled friends and family with the thought that, although another person took her life, it was God?s will that her life was taken when it was.

?None of us can say that Betty left us too early, because only God knows when it?s our time,? he said.

Though he?d known Betty Brown since October 2004, when she joined Hillsdale Baptist, Pann himself was inspired by Brown?s faith and how she sought prayer for guidance in even the smallest decisions.

Pann said Brown was initially hesitant to be baptized at first because of a fear of water, which generated a laughter of understanding among the crowd, but Pann told her that he ?never lost anybody? in the waist?deep water. It soothed her fears enough to carry through with the baptism.

Once she joined the church, however, Brown was usually the first one there at 9:15 a.m. every Sunday ? often getting there before Pann himself, a point she would emphasize as she stood by the door waiting.

He relieved some of the sadness hanging over the room by giving some examples of how she sought his help with prayer, once for a new car she bought, but asked for Pann to pray with her because she didn?t know how to pay for it.

She also approached Pann to ask him for help in prayer with regard to her family and specifically, her three children, James, Michael and Jean.

?She said to me, ?I know where they are but I don?t know what they?re up to,? ? Pann said, as more laughter passed through the crowd.

And Pann also touched on Brown?s generous nature, about how he was with her in a bakery and could not convince her to take more than one muffin or more than one loaf of bread because she didn?t need it. The same held true for the venison that Pann would bring to the church.

?I?d say to her, ?Betty, you want some of this?? and she said ?No! I don?t want it, give it to someone else who needs it,? ? Pann said. ?But that was Betty ? she would always make sure the needs of others were met.?

Her selflessness also gave strength to Skip Maxson and his wife Deb, who was Brown?s Sunday School teacher in the senior citizen class.

?We were told by her sister, Sally, that Betty was killed because she was looking out her front door to see if Viola was OK,? Deb Maxson said.

?She could?ve been safe, she could still be alive, but she was watching out for her sister,? Skip added.

Skip Maxson also said that through her faith, he is ?almost jealous? of where Brown?s spirit is now, and Deb was confident that ?we will see her again.?

That thought was echoed by Pann in the final remarks of his eulogy, in which he addressed Brown?s immediate family and referenced her early morning appearances at church.

?Linda, Sally, Jim, Michael, Jean ... you will see her again, and when you do, she?s going to say, ?What took you so long? I?ve been waiting for you.??
Date: April 25, 2006
Dear Daniel,

This is a quick message to let you know that your book, Fished All Night for Nothing, has been reviewed and is online at the FaithWriters' Book Review section:

http://reviews.faithwriters.com/Archives/April2006-2.php

This is the permanent link to your review Daniel, although for the next week or so, it will also be the Current Review.

I am also very happy to let you know that your book has been awarded the FaithWriters' "Outstanding Read" Seal of Approval. These seals are very rare, so congratulations.
Date: March 1, 2006
FaithWriters Magazine March 2006
WE ARE THE CHURCH

Everybody is Somebody
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By Dr. Daniel E. Pann

"Everybody is somebody," I encouraged my congregation. "They may be navigating their ship down the channel of life with patched sails of prior journeys, or perhaps, as a new believer, unfurling their sails for the first time. Either way, everybody is somebody."

Little did I know that those words would soon be put to the ultimate test.

It began while I was in Missouri doing a wedding for a young woman who had grown up in our church. Having completed her college education in Michigan, ties to family took her away. It was while she was "away," the Lord brought her into contact with someone special. Sparks of romance were ignited and after several months, he proposed. I was invited to do the honors.

Arrangements were made for a pulpit supply. I enlisted the help of a layman to preach in my absence. We went over the details, nothing special. He just needed to follow the bulletin and everything would be fine. The usual eighty or so attendees could be expected.

The week prior to the wedding, there was a knock on my office door. I looked up to see a stranger hesitantly grinning in my direction. He lived around the corner from us and wanted to stop in to say "hello." We made general conversation and soon it was time for him to get back to work. We shook hands, and he paused before turning the corner. "Oh, by the way, besides me, there might be eleven or twelve others visiting Sunday."

Later I relayed that information to our pulpit supply. He assured me that it would be no problem; he?d be ready.

All went well at the wedding. The bride was beautiful, the groom was nervous, and one of the candle lighting thingies blew out. Other than that, things went as planned.

Soon it was time to go home. After being on the road for several hours, my cell phone rang.

"Hey preacher," the voice on the other end began. "You need to learn how to count."

"Why is that?"

"We had eleven visitors like you said."

"Okay, so?"

"Add sixty more to that."

I was told that my young fill-in had looked like a deer caught in the headlights. People kept coming and coming until the place was two-thirds full. Though unnerved, he was excellent and spirits were high with all our new friends.

My office was flooded with calls and visits for several days. What was going on?

The next Sunday a hundred more showed up. Where were all these people coming from? The majority promised to return.

We were celebrating the Lord?s Supper that morning and ran out of communion ware. We put cups in cardboard boxes and used them for serving trays. We ran out of bulletins, visitors? cards, and it took twice as long to take the offering.

As Wednesday night was our business meeting, I took time to encourage our current members. "The dynamics of our church have forever changed. No longer will we be this size. I want you to know how much I appreciate you taking a young pastor and his family under your watch thirteen years ago. You cared for us, loved us and provided an opportunity for ministry. We are forever grateful. Now, this body must find a way to meet the needs of so many others."

My Sunday School class now had more in attendance then the entire previous membership. Three weeks later, over thirty nervous souls walked down the aisle to join with us, some by letter, some by baptism, and others by profession of faith. The following week brought twenty more. Was it revival? So far, I felt God was just clearing His throat.

It used to be that I would have an occasional visitor come to the office during the week. Now people were having to stand in line virtually every morning. Little children needed to be patted on their heads, and adults looked around, having never seen the inside of a pastor?s study.

Opening an email one morning, I found this note:

"Dear Pastor, I never had a pastor like you. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me last week. And thanks for helping me ask Jesus into my heart. This has taken me two hours to write. I don?t type very fast."

It was signed by a nine-year-old boy.

Another family came very cautiously. They had been shunned by a previous church because everyone wasn?t the same color. How would we treat them? Tears flowed in relief when they realized a home had been found with no racial barriers.

A man asked to sit down, nervously twisting his ball cap in weathered hands. His daughter was getting married in a couple of weeks and the church they had been attending refused to allow the wedding to take place there. No reason; apparently just retaliation for his Biblical stand. I assured him they could use ours and he thanked me through moistened eyes.

What did all these people have in common? A hurting soul and a desperate need to be loved and accepted for who they were. Not to be judged by their past--that was done at Calvary. Not to be spurned by a group of "believers"--Jesus invites everyone to come unto him (Matthew 11:28). They were looking for a place to worship God and serve Him to the best of their ability.

I received a call from the funeral home this week. A family is trying to cope with the death of a stillborn. The director hesitated, "They have no church affiliation and no money. We are handling the arrangements for free. Would you do the services at a reduced fee?"

A lump welled in my throat. "Yes, I will do the service and there is no fee. It is for the Lord."

It doesn?t matter. Everybody is somebody to Him.
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Dr. Pann and his wife, Cindy, reside in southern Michigan along with their children and two grandchildren. He is the author of "A Pregnant Woman Beat Me" and "Fished all Night For Nothing." He can be visited at www.drpann.com
Date: June 11, 2005
This Article appeared in the June issue of Faithwriters Magazine under "We Are the Church."

I'm a Part of the What?

By Daniel Pann

The church is the only living, breathing, spirit filled entity comprised of born again believers. What makes us so unique is the presence of God's Holy Spirit. Only the body of Christ can lay claim to this. A local church, (assembly) does not automatically fit into that category. A name and a sign does not always designate the indwelling Spirit of God, nor is it the different classes of people who worship there.

Someone said the ground is level at the foot of the cross and so it is. Doctors, housewives, lawyers, bus drivers and presidents all share the same need, that being a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Not only do believers come from all walks of life, their personalities are just as diverse.

Consider the outgoing mother of three. She bubbles over with enthusiasm, never seems to be in distress. Maybe it's because she's seen it all from messy diapers to that evening's dinner regurgitated onto the carpet. Then there's the new one, not sure of how to act in a house of worship, when to stand up and when to sit down. How loud is too loud when singing and who put all the "thee's" and "thou's" in the Bible. One more thing; did the disciples really have cars back then. Acts says they were in one accord.

How do we minister to these opposites? Let's forget for a moment the churchgoer. What about those disgruntled souls weary of organized religion who want nothing more than to worship God in spirit and in truth, but will not darken the church door due to wounded hearts and rejected service.

True, we are seeing a falling away in the last days as was predicted by Scripture, but our sidelines are becoming increasingly full as discouraged Christians are wondering what part of the abundant life wasn't grasped. It would seem the godly community has passed them by for one perceived failure or another, all the while clamoring for more workers and volunteers.

Are we right in enlisting the services of anyone regardless of their past? What about forgiveness and restitution? I John 1:9 says, "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness." What is the criteria for service?

A child of God is to be faithful unto death. As long as we occupy space on earth, our light is to shine. Luke 2:49 records Jesus' response after his parents went looking for him. "Wist ye not, that I must be about my father's business?" Luke 9:51 says Jesus "steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem." John 14:31 tells of his desire to be obedient, "as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do." At the cross Jesus uttered these words, "It is finished." (John 19:30) Jesus was a starter and finisher. We should do no less.

How does this relate to the church as a local body? There will always be opportunities to serve, our roles can and do change because of personal choices or unfortunate circumstances. God's Word is clear on who should lead his flock and who would be a right hand man. It's when we try to make the Truth fit our desires and interpretation that believers get into trouble.

A young man told of being asked to lead a youth class. Problem was, he wasn't a Christian himself, so how could he speak of Jesus' love without having tasted it personally? What examples of an intimate walk with God could be given when their steps had never intertwined?

Most of us would like to think we pray, but how many actually talk to God? Scriptures indicate only those who are his children can come boldly unto the throne of grace. (Hebrews 4)

One's personality is important only to God. He alone can take a Moses and make him a leader. No one but God is capable of turning Saul into Paul. The violin of our lives can only be tuned by a master musician and when played with tender loving hands, the results cause heaven to rejoice.

Yes, the church is comprised of happy, healthy people. On the other side are hurting, hungry folk. Each one needs the opportunity to experience God's fullness and joy of service. If the body of Christ does not reach out to help these desiring obedience and growth, who will?
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Dr. Daniel Pann pastors in southern Michigan. He and his wife Cindy, enjoy their adult children and two grandchildren. You can write to Daniel care of the Letters page of this magazine.
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Date: June 10, 2005
This Article appeared in the June issue of Faithwriters Magazine under a "Merry Heart."

I GOT PUBLISHED

By Daniel Pann

People kept saying, "You should write a book." So I did. The process was akin to watching cheese age. It had to be done, took forever, stunk at times, but the results were satisfying. My journey encompassed the better part of two years, from scribbling thoughts onto paper, to the moment author copies were dropped onto our porch.

Everyone has their own approach to writing, some of it methodical, some of it sporadic, and some of it weird; but my style would reveal a growing feeling of frustration, and ultimately resulted in the sure-fire method, "whatever works."

One magazine suggested surrounding oneself with sights, sounds and pictures associated with the particular genre he/she was writing about. I chose not to employ this strategy because "genre" wasn't something I wanted to admit doing, especially in the presence of my friends. Another told of a fellow who hung clipboards around his house, each one representing a different chapter. He'd flitter back and forth whenever inspiration struck, jotting down this or that until his literary light shut off. I opted out of that exercise also due to the high cost of boards, string, pencils and paper, not to mention wear and tear on shoes.

My original venue was lying in bed with a spiral notebook and black pen. I could afford one of each. Unfortunately, from a reclining position gravity causes ink to run backwards, a process taking about thirty seconds, seriously hampering any attempts at inspiration. I broke down and bought a pencil even though I didn't agree with the clipboard guy's style, but at least there was no waiting for ink to reverse itself. Later the trusty computer was introduced, which wasn't without its own pitfalls � like when an "insufficient memory" warning flashed after I'd only typed seven words, or the times I accidentally hit the delete button instead of save. Still it was faster than longhand.

A couple of Christmases later, the piece was complete and I now had this stack of papers called a manuscript. It was about the size of a phonebook and at first blush, read like one. By the time every rejection letter had been collected, it might as well be converted to a manhole cover, but that will come later.

I remember reading about the importance of securing a publisher, which made sense to me, seeing I needed someone to make my effort look like the real thing. A few quick calls with a mouthful of bologna sandwich and extra crunchy chips would have done the trick, but industry standards stress the need for procedure, protocol and presentation. Seems editors are a persnickety lot, and presumably busy as well. Something about the factoid, "less than ten percent of submissions get accepted" demands budding authors to follow the ancient rules handed down from Uncle Ralph, Casey Writeminder or Edith P. Editor. (Nobody really knows where they came from.)

These instructions include words and guidelines I'm not comfortable with. For example:

1. The Query letter. (What's so strange about a letter, and if true, I'm not going to write one for fear of getting arrested.)

2. Simultaneous Submission. (Who wants to be humiliated by two people at the same time?)

3. S.A.S.E. (Secret code for "Stop Anticipating Something Encouraging.")

4. No phone/fax. (Sounds immoral)

A more seasoned author said this was all normal stuff and part of the publishing process, so I grudgingly went along, though keeping an eye open for any Literary agents.

I made a list of publishers and tried to match my genre with theirs. For the most part success was achieved with the exception of when I accidentally tried to pair my book on ministerial experiences with a company that specialized in kitty litter boxes. Surprisingly, that was my first rejection.

Others would follow like past due notices, and each letter opened the door of discouragement a bit more. After six months of "Sorry, your work is not a good fit for us, might we suggest a writing group," or, "Have you considered selling toothpaste door to door," my wife dropped another envelope in my lap. Knowing what was inside, I tossed it onto the sofa. Later that night we read the good news together. I had finally been accepted by a publishing company. We celebrated over Chinese food and a fortune cookie. (I think we both got sick.)

Contacts, edits, re-writes and proofs would follow. A final chore was picking out an attractive book cover. My first choice arrived via email and showed a guy laughing at the sky � or maybe himself, I'm not sure. He looked a lot like Goober. I knew I was ugly, but was that supposed to be me? I settled for a cross in the background rather than the unknown happy mechanic.

The big day came with author copies via pony express. Later bulk purchases were delivered for promotion and distribution. My first book signing was complete with grape juice for toasting and a birthday pen I'd been saving for such an occasion as this. I autographed thirteen copies. Not knowing how much was in excess, I launched into a dissertation on freshwater crabs before someone politely suggested ten words and my signature would suffice.

What to do with the remaining supply. Mother wants a dozen, my granddaughters � age six months and four years � each want one for a teething ring and coloring book, in that order. I overheard a comment from elsewhere about using my picture on the back to keep mice out of cupboards. I suppose I could contact the local paper, stop by a few bookstores, email some friends.......

God has a way of keeping us humble. One of the first recipients called to inform he'd found an error on page forty six. I asked if he wanted his money back, but he graciously declined. He's since found another so whenever the book is finished, maybe he'll return it with regrets.

Looking back, the fun has just begun. I have yet to see any royalty. (Does that mean Prince Charles is supposed to visit?)

There are three more books in progress, I love/hate them all, still I would encourage anyone with a desire to write, do your homework...before graduating from high school. Become familiar with the aforementioned writing terminology, and oh, one more thing...learn how to blog ( abbreviated computer lingo for a round slice of meat surrounded by two pieces of bread; mustard optional).
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Dr. Daniel E. Pann has pastored churches for twenty four years. He and Cindy reside in southern Michigan along with their children and two grandchildren. His first book, A Pregnant Woman Beat Me, released by PublishAmerica, can be purchased online at PublishAmerica, Amazon.com and Barnesandnobel.com" His second book, Fished All Night For Nothing. is scheduled for release by Tate Publishing in September 2005.
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