Reading between the lines

Salvos Online continues a new weekly column – Three Books. Today’s guest bookworm is Captain Duane Albino, who is the Corps Officer at Albany in Western Australia.

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Besides the gospels and Psalms, which is your favourite book in the Bible and why?

Alright ... let’s talk Jonah. The book of Jonah is one of the shortest in the Bible, but it’s like reading a divine sitcom with eternal stakes. You’ve got a prophet who literally gets an assignment from God – “Go to Nineveh, tell them to repent.” Jonah’s response? “Yeah, nah.” He buys a ticket on a ship heading in the opposite direction. That’s like being told to go to Sydney and booking a flight to Iceland. It’s hilarious, it’s tragic, and somehow, it’s us. Every time we ghost God’s call because it’s inconvenient, we’re just Jonah without the seaweed.

Then the storm hits. The sailors are panicking, throwing cargo overboard, praying to any god who’ll pick up the phone, and there’s Jonah, snoring below deck. They wake him up, he admits it’s his fault, and tells them to toss him into the ocean. He’s not even trying to fix it; he’d rather drown than obey. The drama! The passive-aggressiveness! If Netflix turned Jonah into a mini-series, I’d binge it twice. And then, just when it can’t get weirder, a giant fish shows up like Uber Eats with bad timing. Jonah gets swallowed whole, spends three days in the stomach of grace, and finally decides to pray.

But the punchline is what happens next. He finally preaches to Nineveh – probably the most half-hearted sermon in history – and the whole city repents. Like, everyone. Even the cows wear sackcloth. And Jonah? He’s furious. He literally sulks under a plant because God was too merciful. It’s divine comedy wrapped in human stubbornness. You can’t make it up.

Jonah’s honestly one of the most underrated gems in Scripture; it’s like divine comedy meets deep theology. What gets me is that Jonah isn’t really about a man and a fish; it’s about a God who refuses to give up on people who don’t deserve a second chance, including the prophet himself. It’s a story of grace so wide it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s what I love. Because if God can use a runaway prophet, a storm, and a sea creature to change hearts – then maybe, just maybe there’s hope for the rest of us, too.

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Besides the Bible, what is a Christian book that has strongly influenced your faith?

One book that has deeply shaped my perspective is Try Softer by Aundi Kolber. Kolber blends her experience as a licensed therapist with a Christian worldview, creating a book that is both practical and deeply spiritual. She doesn’t offer platitudes or quick fixes; instead, she gently guides readers to approach life, faith, and themselves with compassion. Her writing reminded me that walking with God doesn’t mean we must always be strong or perfect – it means we can bring our brokenness honestly before Him.

What struck me most was her emphasis on being present in our struggles. Kolber shows that faith isn’t a shield against pain, anxiety, or grief, but a lens through which we can experience God’s love even in the hardest seasons. Reading this book felt like sitting with someone who sees both the mess and the beauty of life – someone who refuses to rush over the hard parts and instead invites you to rest, reflect, and trust God’s timing. Passages on surrender and self-compassion echoed deeply, reminding me of Psalm 34:18, that “The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

I found myself returning to its pages whenever life felt overwhelming. Try Softer doesn’t just teach principles – it models a way of living faithfully, gently, and honestly. It challenged me to let my faith be real, raw, and human, and showed me that God’s grace meets us not just in our successes but in our vulnerability. It’s a book that leaves you both comforted and strengthened, reminding you that God’s love is patient, persistent, and always present.

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What is a secular book that has revealed to you a Christian message or theme?

Fredrik Backman’s A Man Called Ove is a secular book that left me floored with its Christian undertones. On the surface, it’s about a grumpy old man and the eccentric neighbours who slowly, and often unintentionally, break through his crusty exterior.

But beneath the humour and dry wit lies something sacred – a story about redemption, patience, and the quiet, relentless power of love. Ove isn’t particularly likeable at first; he’s bitter, stubborn, and absurdly set in his ways. Yet through the gentle persistence of others, he begins to rediscover purpose and belonging. It’s proof that sometimes grace comes disguised as nosy neighbours and unwanted interruptions.

What captivated me most was how Backman mirrors the Gospel without ever mentioning it. Ove isn’t ‘fixed’ because he earns it; he’s redeemed because others refuse to give up on him. It’s Ephesians 2:8-9 in motion – salvation and transformation as pure gifts of grace. The story reminded me that love’s greatest miracles often happen not in church pews, but in driveways, shared meals, and moments of inconvenient kindness. Through laughter, awkward conversations, and heartbreak, you see that redemption can bloom quietly, right in the middle of ordinary life.

By the end, I laughed, almost cried, and found myself reflecting on the people God has placed in my own life – the ones who refused to walk away even when I didn’t make it easy. A Man Called Ove reminded me that grace doesn’t always roar; sometimes it just knocks on your door, holding a casserole and refusing to leave. It’s a story that will leave you smiling through tears, whispering, “That’s exactly what love does.”