Wednesday, December 31, 2025

2025 New Year's Resolutions Scorecard

  


It's that time again...time to look forward, set goals, and make plans. Every year I make a lengthy list of New Year's resolutions, with varying degrees of ambition. That list comes tomorrow.

But first, we need to check in on my 2024 resolutions and see how I measured up! So without further ado, here's my report card:


1. Read some poetry every day.

For the first five months of 2025, I spent between 5-10 minutes a day reading The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats, Ireland's most beloved poet. Upon finishing that book, I quickly devoured two books of modern poetry, one by Kate Baer and the other by Johnny Cash, which were lent to me by my friend Kelley.

And then I took a break from poetry that lasted, it turned out, six months.

So for six months I read poetry every day, and for six months I did not. Sounds like half credit to me.

(For what it's worth: generally, I still don't "get" poetry. But maybe I just need to be less pretentious about what poetry I choose, because I really enjoyed the Kate Baer book!)

Score: 0.5 out of 12


2. Memorize Scripture.

Sometimes I go into a new year with a resolution fully thought out, knowing exactly what steps I'm going to take to make it happen. Other times, I think, "Hmm, I should probably <fill in the blank>" with no battle plan whatsoever. You can imagine which tactic is more successful.

Memorizing Scripture, sadly, fell into the latter category: it was a well-meaning goal, but one I had put literally no thought into beyond, "That would be a good idea." It was...just not one I worked towards.

Score: 0.5 out of 12


3. Read Ulysses and Finnegans Wake.

I am Captain Ahab. Understanding the appeal of James Joyce, often critically regarded as the 20th century's greatest writer, is my white whale. And as of yet, my pursuit is going exactly as Ahab's does in Moby Dick.

As you may have read a couple of days ago, it took me the entire year (in fits and starts) to read Ulysses for a second time, and while I understand more of the historical and literary allusions now than I did the first time, I certainly don't like the book any more than I did the first time. Reading Ulysses was not fun or enlightening, it was punishing.

It's difficult to fathom that Finnegans Wake, which I never even touched this year, could be even more difficult of a read, but that is its reputation. Someday I'm sure my memory of 2025 will have faded enough that I will masochistically give that "book" a try. But I promise you, it'll be a while.

Score: 1.0 out of 12


4. Organize music library.

The admittedly ambitious goal here was to go through all 10,000+ songs in my iTunes library, cull the music I don't care about owning anymore, and burn what I do want to keep to CD so I have a physical copy of all my purchased music.

It took about 3 days for me to realize this project was going to take approximately a zillion hours. Worse, a zillion hours spent interacting with iTunes, a piece of software Apple stopped meaningfully updating about 15 years ago.

To make a short story shorter, I now have a drawer in my office full of still-blank CDs.

Score: 1.0 out of 12


5. Listen to Bob Dylan's complete discography.

After watching last year's biopic A Complete Unknown, I was convinced this would the Year of Dylan as far as my music listening was concerned. By February I had listened to Bob's debut album. By June I had listened to his debut album twice. And by December...I had listened to his debut album twice.

There's always next year, Mr. Zimmerman.

Score: 1.0 out of 12


6. Write a Lenten devotional book.

At the outset of the year, I decided I wanted to write and self-publish a companion to the Advent devotional book I wrote in 2022, this time for the season of Lent. Unfortunately, I pitched that idea to our Missions-Evangelism Committee at a time of year when we were in penny pinching mode, and they were concerned about the cost of printing such a book.

So, discouraged, I scrapped the project before February. Could I have still written it and distributed it as a PDF or a series of daily emails? Yeah. But I did not do that.

Score: 1.0 out of 12


7. Lead a strategic planning process for SGBC.

The work is far from done—we're nearly finished with the second phase of three, and the third phase is the most difficult—but not for lack of effort.  Our team is doing good work analyzing our church's issues and determining what our core vision for the future needs to look like. Now all that's left is formulating the strategy to get there.

We've gotten a little bogged down in our second phase due to scheduling conflicts, but I'm eager to move forward in 2026 and have something we can present to the church as early as Easter. Pray for us!

Score: 2.0 out of 12


8. Get healthy.

I took this seriously longer than some of you expected me to...but that still wasn't long. Look for this resolution to reappear on my list for 2026. In fact, it's probably the resolution I'm taking the most seriously for the new year.

Score: 2.0 out of 12


9. Finish my sermons on Friday.

The goal here was to free up time and head space on Saturdays and have a lot fewer nights where I was in my office at 10:00 pm.

I won't say I was completely unsuccessful in that regard,  but I certainly didn't break the bad habit. Anytime I went home Friday with a 100% completed sermon, I was ready to throw a parade. I just wish there had been more such parades.

Score: 2.0 out of 12


10. Walk to work.

I would estimate I walked to the church somewhere between 10 and 20 times total in 2025. Considering I drove to the church somewhere in the neighborhood of 500 times, I think we're going to have to call this one a swing and a miss.

Score: 2.0 out of 12


11. Spend less money.

I did well here! I bought WAY fewer books than the year before. I bought a little less fast food. And in general, I was more conscious about where our money was going. 

My timing was good, as "affordability" has become one of the year's buzzwords. Looks like I'm not the only person in America trying to pinch pennies right now. This won't be an "official" resolution in 2026, but by necessity it's a newly formed habit I'll be sticking with.

Score: 3.0 out of 12


12. Track my time.

The idea with this last resolution was to keep track of how many hours I was working each week and what I was doing during those hours, both for the sake of accountability and personal record-keeping. Memory is not to be trusted, so it's always good to write it down.

I was ready to give myself no credit on this one, but a closer look at my records indicates that I actually did better here than I thought I did, keeping detailed records for the first 3 months of the year and looser, more scattered notes for another 4. Admittedly, it was all pretty front-loaded to the first half of the year, but the math is the math: half credit.

Score: 3.5 out of 12

------------------------------------------

Final Score: 3.5 out of 12, or 29%. Let's see how that stacks up against previous years:

2024- 4 out of 8, or 50%
2023- 1.5 out of 10, or 15%
2022- 1 out of 10, or 10%
2021- 4 out of 9, or 44%
2020- 5.5 out of 13, or 42%.
2019- 3 out of 13, or 23%.
2018- 8.5 out of 13, or 65%.

Not my worst, not my best, at least as far as percentages go. Despite shooting for pretty attainable stuff in 2025, there were a lot on the list I had given up on by March. But when I look at which goals I did meet vs. which I didn't, I'm not beating myself up too much.

Tune in tomorrow for the my resolutions for 2026!

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

2025 Reading Log - Year in Review

Every December since I started writing monthly reading logs (2017), I've considered doing a "Best Of" column, reviewing everything I read over the course of the year and telling you what I liked most. The trouble is, I usually have that idea around December 26 or so, and can't muster up the time, focus, or willpower to hammer out such a column.

But this year, I did something that's normally anathema to me: I planned ahead. Only took me 8 years!

This year I read 58 "real" books—and set a new personal record for pages read, at 18,848along with 32 comic book trade paperbacks of varying lengths. Genres included books about faith, children's literature, horror, fantasy, literary fiction, the aforementioned comic books, and more. I also regularly read a series of of magazines and online newsletters, including but not limited to The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Texas Monthly, and The Athletic. I like to read :)

So without further ado, here are some superlatives for 2025! Links to full reviews are attached.


BEST ARTICLE OF 2025

"The River House Broke. We Rushed in the River." by Aaron Parsley (Texas Monthly)

This first-person, eyewitness account of the July 4 flood in Texas' Hill Country is both riveting and tragic, which is why it has become, according to Texas Monthly's Editor-in-Chief, likely the most widely read article in the history of the magazine. Writer Aaron Parsley tells the story of how his own family, who had gathered together for the holiday, were swept away by the waters of the Guadalupe River, and how they were changed forever by the experience. When I read this at 5:30 AM in a rental house in Port Aransas, I was in tears—and I'm not talking misty eyes, I'm talking tears streaming down my cheeks. Find some time when you know you won't be interrupted and read this.

Runner Up: The Anti-Social Century by Derek Thompson (The Atlantic)


BEST CHILDREN'S BOOK OF 2025

Matilda by Roald Dahl

This year my two older kids and I finished working through a boxed set of Roald Dahl's complete works of children's literature, and I learned that you can go home again: my favorite Dahl book today is the same one I loved best when I was Andrew's age. A precocious child, badly behaved adults, and lots of imagination make this the perfect Dahl book.

Runner Up: Mystery in Rocky Mountain National Park by Aaron Johnson



BEST SPORTS BOOK OF 2025

I See You, Big German by Zac Crain

This love letter to Dirk Nowitzki was just what I needed after the disastrous news of the Luka Trade. Between the Vegas owners, the AAC strife with the Stars, and the eternally injured Anthony Davis, this isn't a fun time to be a Mavs fan—but this book took me back to the franchise's glory days, when a goofy blonde German spent 21 years winning a city's heart forever.

Runner Up: The Only Rule Is It Has to Work by Ben Lindbergh and Sam Miller


BEST NOVEL OF 2025

The Shining by Stephen King

I didn't realize it until I was looking at the year's logs, but I didn't fall in love with any new novels this year. So both the winner and the runner-up in this category go to rereads. The Shining is, I think, the first Stephen King book I ever read, and a deserved horror classic. A perfect companion for spooky season this October.

Runner Up: The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien



BIGGEST SURPRISE OF 2025

Helen of Wyndhorn by Tom King and Bilquis Evely

This book, a gift from my brother Nathan, was one I'd never heard of until he put it in my hands, but I loved it. Part gothic horror, part family drama, the whole thing is an original self-contained story by the all-star team that gave us Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow. An easy story to miss, but one I'm glad I didn't.

Runner Up: I Hope This Finds You Well by Kate Baer



BEST HISTORY BOOK OF 2025

Working by Studs Terkel

This collection of interviews with workers of all stripes about their employment is earthy and enlightening. A bit dated now (it was published in 1974), it is nevertheless an insightful look at the relationship Americans have with their jobs, told in their own words.

Runner Up: The Survivor: Bill Clinton in the White House by John F. Harris



BEST CHRISTIAN BOOK OF 2025

Pastor by William H. Willimon

This account of what it means to be a church's shepherd is biblical, theological, and well, pastoral, all at once. Few writers of such books seem to have an idea of what it means to spiritually lead a church, but Willimon does. I learned a lot and appreciated his insights into the task God has given me.

Runner Up: The Cross of Christ by John Stott



BEST BEACH READ OF 2025

What's Bext: A Backstage Pass to the West Wing by Melissa Fitzgerald and Mary McCormack

This was a perfect read for a couple of long flights, a loving account of all the ins and outs of The West Wing, one of my all-time favorite TV shows. Obsessive fans of the show ("Wingnuts") will eat it up, as I did.

Runner Up: The Secret Lives of Booksellers and Librarians, edited by James Patterson and Matt Eversmann



BEST COMICS OF 2025

Thor by Jason Aaron: The Complete Collection Vol. 1-5

Jason Aaron's seminal run on Thor, featuring everything from the introduction of the God Butcher to Jane Foster wielding the hammer to the War of the Realms, is arguably the best extended run on the character by any creator (only the Lee-Kirby pairing and Walt Simonson have an argument). If only Taika Waititi had borrowed this run's tone, not just its plotlines, for Thor: Love and Thunder.

Runner Up: 21: The Story of Roberto Clemente by Wilfred Santiago



BEST POETRY OF 2025

I Hope This Finds You Well by Kate Baer

This slim book of erasure poetry is easy to digest, clever, and illuminating. If all poetry was this enjoyable, I'd probably read a lot more of it.

Runner Up: Forever Words by Johnny Cash




BEST MAGAZINE/BLOG/NEWSLETTER OF 2025

Joe Blogs by Joe Posnanski

This daily-ish newsletter by my favorite sportwriter runs the gamut from current events in sports to deep dives into baseball history to Posnanski's latest obsession, fountain pens. You never know what you're going to get on any given day, but you always know it will be entertaining and well-written.

Runner Up: Texas Monthly



BIGGEST SLOG OF 2025

Ulysses by James Joyce

Ulysses was written, I am convinced, to punish its readers. It worked. 'Nuff said.

Runner Up: The Dragonlance Chronicles by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

Sunday, December 28, 2025

December Reading Log

My reading year draws to a close not with a bang, but with a whimper—you'll find multiple books on here where the majority of my time spent reading actually happened in previous months. But I count it as a win, because as of December 28, my Goodreads "Currently Reading" category is FINALLY empty...at least for a few hours.

Here are the books that I finished 2025 with!


SERMONS FOR ADVENT AND CHRISTMAS DAY by Martin Luther

Having bought this on sale a year or two ago, this seemed the appropriate season to dive back into the writings of the Father of the Reformation to see what he had to say about expectation, God's fulfilled promises, and the Christ child. The verdict: boy did Martin Luther hate the pope.

I kid (sort of). This collection of six sermons (one for each Sunday of Advent and then two for Christmas Day) does contain some inspired exposition related to the coming of Jesus. Indeed, the closer Luther sticks to the text, the more enjoyable I found his sermons. Particularly in the book's final sermon, which explores the theology of John 1, there was some solid insight.

But, like all preachers, Luther does have his hobby horses. Any chance to emphasize faith over works is seized with gusto. When the opportunity is there to call the pope the Antichrist, he never watches the pitch sail by. Luther was both preacher and polemicist, and you rarely forget that when reading these sermons.

As a historical artifact, these sermons are worth a glance. As a commentary or Advent devotional, they can be skipped.


ULYSSES by James Joyce

My youngest brother, a librarian by trade, told me years ago, "Life is too short to read Ulysses." And yet, for reasons that are best sorted out by a licensed therapist, I have now read it twice. May God have mercy on my soul.

Following a trip to Ireland in 2024, I determined to make 2025 the year that I figured out James Joyce. After all, he is widely hailed by literary critics as the greatest writer of the 20th century, and Ulysses is often named as the best book ever written (on such lists it's NEVER outside the top 3.) Yet, whether I was reading DublinersA Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, or Ulysses (the first time), he has always left me cold. Sometimes I admire his intellect while not especially enjoying his writing. Other times I'm so baffled that I just despise him altogether. James Joyce generally and Ulysses specifically has the power to tap into my deepest insecurity: they make me feel stupid.

The book is ostensibly the story of a day in the life of Leopold Bloom, a Jewish Dubliner who is being cuckolded by his wife Molly. Using Homer's The Odyssey (which I read in preparation for this book) as an outline, Joyce takes us through Bloom's day from beginning to end, when he returns home to Molly.

But the book is not about plot, nor about the characters—not Bloom, Molly, Stephen Dedalus, Buck Mulligan, or any of the other figures in Bloom's orbit. It is about Joyce putting on a literary fireworks show, dazzling intellectuals throughout the ages with his mastery of stream of consciousness, his allusions, and his ability to weave in and out of different styles. The writing is not a vehicle for the story in Ulysses, the writing is the point. It is post-modernism at its most post-modernist.

And maybe if you're an English professor, this counts as fun for you. Maybe you read because you want to feel like the smartest person in the room. Truly, honestly, maybe you're just a lot more intelligent than I am.

But for me, this book remains a cipher. It is incomprehensible to me that someone could pick it up and understand it without aids. It is unfathomable to me that anyone could enjoy the experience of reading it.

I am not going to promise I will never read this book again. I am a fallen creature, and the knowledge that this Very Important Book is practically indecipherable to me continues to bother me. So at some point before I die, I'll probably wade through the murky waters of Ulysses again. But I stand by what I said in 2017: "If your book needs a decoder ring just to be comprehensible, that's not entirely the fault of the reader."


ULYSSES ANNOTATED by Don Gifford
A GUIDE TO JAMES JOYCE'S ULYSSES by Patrick Hastings
THE NEW BLOOMSDAY BOOK by Harry Blamires

To aid me in my trudge through Ulysses, I was at least smart enough to enlist aids beyond what's freely available at SparkNotes.com. Every morning that I cracked Ulysses open, I had these volumes right next to it.

Ulysses Annotated is exactly what it sounds like, a line-by-line reference work that provides context for everything from the geography of Dublin to literary references to biblical allusions, all of which Joyce employs constantly to show how smart he is tell his story. I would not consider this an essential aid to understanding the book, but, especially in the denser sections, it was useful to see what Joyce was up to.

A Guide to James Joyce's Ulysses was my favorite of the three works. Originally published for free online, it aspires to demystify Ulysses for the common reader, walking you through each chapter summarily and providing context where necessary. I won't pretend it helped me enjoy Ulysses, but it did help me understand it better. If I were to recommend one of these books, this would be the one worth purchasing.

The New Bloomsday Book is similar to Hastings' work, but more dated in its approach and less helpful overall. I admit that there were times I was skimming this more than reading it carefully—while respected by Joyce scholars, it is not as useful to the novice as the other two books I used. Of the three, this is the one I'm most likely to offload to Half Price Books.


DANGER IN ZION NATIONAL PARK by Aaron Johnson

Our journey through this planned 10-book series continued the last two months with Danger in Zion National Park, where author Aaron Johnson seemed to grasp that he was going to need more than the formula he'd incorporated in the first three books to get this thing to the finish line. If you're not a monthly reader of this log, then I'll catch you up on the series, which my two oldest kids and I have been reading together periodically at bedtime: Jake, accompanied by his cousin Wes and family friend Amber, are on a scavenger hunt through America's National Parks, one set up by Jake's recently deceased grandfather but which has ties dating back to the 1800s. Ancient treasure awaits, but there are mysterious antagonists out for the same prize our heroes are.

In the last book, Aaron Johnson introduced tension between Jake and Amber. Having been resolved before the end of that volume, there is no more internecine drama in this one. Instead, Johnson ramps up the conflict between the protagonists and their mysterious enemies, as our heroes find their movements trailed by flying drones throughout this story. It adds an air of menace to the proceedings that is welcome in a series that is mostly pretty chummy.

If this book has a weakness, it's that Johnson bounces back and forth between the present day and the story of Jake's 19th century ancestor Abraham—and, for the reader, Jake's story is considerably more compelling. I noticed that in this book, Johnson (perhaps inspired by feedback from readers) gave about 2/3 of the book to Jake and only 1/3 to Abraham, as opposed to the previous 50-50 split. It was a welcome change.

All in all, these books remain part mystery, part after-school special, but my kids enjoy them (especially Andrew). It's hard for me to imagine these stretching into 10 books, but the author showed with this book he's willing to make some adjustments along the way. Tune in soon to see us reach the halfway point with book #5, which takes us to Yosemite!


ESSENTIAL IRON MAN VOL. 3 by Archie Goodwin, George Tuska, Johnny Craig, Don Heck, et al.

The Bronze Age is a period in comics' history that fans look back on with some fondness, but not a lot of respect. Coming out of the Silver Age of the 1960s—when characters like Spider-Man, the Justice League of America, the Fantastic Four, and more had come into being—the Bronze Age was marked less by innovation than by stagnancy. Storytelling beats that felt fresh ten years earlier now felt rote, attempts at "relevant" stories (what we'd call "woke" today) which felt earnest in the '60s now came off as clumsy. Most importantly, where the Silver Age had been led by the creative talents of Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, and other legends of the industry, the Bronze Age was defined by a so-called "house style" at both Marvel and DC, where editors and fans alike came to expect everything to look and sound roughly the same. To summarize, the Bronze Age, which unofficially began with 1973's "The Night Gwen Stacy Died" in the pages of Amazing Spider-Man, was a time when comics rested on their laurels instead of daring to try new things.

Based on what I read in Essential Iron Man Vol. 3, the Bronze Age came early for the Armored Avenger.

While this volume starts in 1969 with issue #12, the signs are all there that Silver Age dynamism has already come to an end. Stories are self-contained more often than they are soap operas (a brief editorial mandate across Marvel based on the idea that new readers would be confused by serial storytelling). The writing from Archie Goodwin and then George Tuska is a pale imitation of Stan Lee's bombastic style. The art is workmanlike, but basically just a John Buscema knock-off, the aforementioned house style that Marvel preferred in the 1970s.

The result is a collection of stories that I barely remember reading, so minimal was their impact. From issue to issue, Tony Stark foils some new villain, usually one trying to sabotage one of his factories (though one change from earlier stories is that the Cold War propaganda has been ratcheted way down.) Occasionally old foes like Titanium Man and the Mandarin resurface, but rarely does it seem to matter much. Characters are added to the supporting cast, but none pop the way Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan—who had been shuttled off the stage in the previous volume—did in the early '60s.

It all makes for very disposable stories, which is pretty much what the Bronze Age was all about. Don't get me wrong, these aren't bad comics, exactly. They're just not good. Welcome to the Bronze Age of Comics, Iron Man.


BATMAN: HUSH by Jeph Loeb, Jim Lee, and Scott Williams

In 2002, DC Comics' editorial team came to Jeph Loeb, writer of the beloved Batman: The Long Halloween, with a proposal: write a yearlong, in-continuity Batman story featuring as much of the Caped Crusader's supporting cast and rogues gallery as he wanted. Loeb agreed, especially upon learning who his artist would be: Jim Lee, whose art on X-Men #1 helped make that the bestselling comic book of all time, a title it still holds today. Reading between the lines, that means DC talked to Lee before Loeb—and that makes sense after reading Batman: Hush, because make no mistake, this book is the Jim Lee Show.

Hush is a story about a mysterious new villain (the titular Hush) who exploits and manipulates various people in Batman's life, from Joker to Superman to the long-dead second Robin, Jason Todd, in order to get at Batman. In the background, the comic also features the first real attempt at a romance between Batman and Catwoman after decades of flirtatiousness, with Batman going so far as to reveal his secret identity to his former foe. It all culminates in a final twist ending that, while a little predictable, is satisfying enough.

But honestly, the story is not the reason this book is beloved by Batman fans of a certain age. The reason for that is simple: this is the best work of Jim Lee's career. Given virtual free reign, Lee offers now-classic splash pages of countless Batman characters, to say nothing of the Dark Knight himself. If you've seen a poster of Batman printed in the last 25 years, there's an excellent chance it's from this book.

I first read this comic more than 20 years ago in a Barnes & Noble, and was speedreading because I didn't know when we'd have to leave. Turns out I didn't miss much: while Loeb's writing is fine, the point of Batman: Hush is to look at the pretty pictures. I was happy to do so again this month.

Friday, December 26, 2025

Let Every Heart Prepare Him Room (Friday Devotional)

 

For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

- Romans 10:13

In December, our coffee table is decorated with two crucial things to celebrate the season. The first is our Advent wreath, with its candles commemorating hope, peace, joy, and love, and the white Christ candle in the center holding it all together. The second item is a Fisher Price nativity scene: a plastic stable and accompanying toy figurines of Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, angel, animals, and, of course, the baby Jesus asleep in his manger bed. The kids play with this nativity scene throughout the month leading up to Christmas, and our 2-year-old son Isaac especially has taken an interest in it this year.

So we shouldn’t have been surprised by what we saw one morning in the attached photo: not only the biblical nativity characters, but a few guests as well: a racecar, a pink dinosaur, and a small army of rubber ducks, all gathered around the Christ child. O come let us adore him, indeed!

This silly sight made me think of a spiritual truth worthy of thanksgiving: all are welcome in God’s family. God so loved the world that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life—whosoever believeth, John 3:16 says. The kingdom of God is not closed off to any category of people, no matter where they come from or how little is in their bank account. All you must do to be saved is accept the gift of grace God has given us in Christ.

The good news of Jesus Christ is good news for all people, not just a subset of humanity. Shepherds in Bethlehem and wise men from the East alike came to worship the Christ child, and heaven and nature sang in unison. Jesus turns no one away who answers his call in faith.

I don’t know if a racecar or a rubber duckie belongs at the Savior’s side—but I know you do.

Friday, December 19, 2025

Choose Joy (Friday Devotional)

 

Rejoice always…

- 1 Thessalonians 5:16

Our Christmas lights at home are not set on any sort of automatic, mechanized timer. What that means is that every evening, I must make the conscious decision to step outside and plug them in. If I fail to do so—if I forget or I get too busy or I just don’t feel like it—then there’s no light.

Given that Christmas lights are a visible sign of the joy of Christmas, something about that feels appropriately symbolic to me. After all, there are occasions—even during the most wonderful time of the year—when you don’t feel particularly joyful. Life has a way of surrounding you with darkness, of making you feel like joy doesn’t meet the moment.

But if you don’t choose joy, then the darkness simply wins. Darkness isn’t driven out just because we wish for it to be so; it is driven out when we shine the light of Jesus. And doing so, make no mistake, is a choice.

So especially as Christmas approaches, let me encourage and challenge you: choose joy. In a world of cynics, be the earnest one. In a world of complainers, be the encourager. In a world of doomsayers, be the one celebrating the good. There’s plenty of darkness to go around—in Jesus’ name, be the one who chooses to shine a light.

Friday, December 12, 2025

Peace for Today (Friday Devotional)

 

He shall judge between the nations
    and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares
    and their spears into tpruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation;
    neither shall they learn war any more.

- Isaiah 2:4

The other day, I was playing with my 2-year old son Isaac—letting him chase me, throwing him up in the air, that kind of thing. At a certain point, I said to him, “Ikey, come tackle me!”

He paused for a second to process what he’d heard, then rushed toward me with his arms out. But when he lunged at me, it wasn’t to knock me down. He had clearly misunderstood what I’d said—instead of tackling me, he was tickling me.

On this week of Advent, when we reflect on the peace given to us in Christ and we look forward to the day when it will cover all creation, that little misunderstanding reminded me of a prophecy from Isaiah, where he promised that someday people “shall beat their sword into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” The vision is of a time when destruction gives way to production, when weapons of violence become tools for flourishing. Who knows, in that day maybe we’ll even see tackling become tickling.

We will not see that kind of world in its fullness until Christ’s return, when all things are made new. But for those who are in Christ, our calling is to live as citizens of that kingdom now—to be peacemakers in a world still dominated by conflict. It takes faith to do so, to strive for brotherhood when the more convenient path is domination. The world values battlefield victories more than it does treaties.

But for believers in Jesus, the world’s values are irrelevant—we are aliens here; our home is somewhere else entirely. So in faith, look for opportunities to extend kindness when your flesh would rather use force. After all, the world could use a little less tackling and a little more tickling.

Friday, December 5, 2025

Hope for Tomorrow (Friday Devotional)

 

Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off.

- Proverbs 23:18

After they’d had a week away from school for the Thanksgiving break, on Monday I checked with my kids to see how their first day back was. My son gave the same indifferent answer he usually does—some variation of “it was fine” that I’m sure will devolve into little more than a grunt by the time he’s a teenager. But my daughter’s answer got my attention: “it was ok, but I think I liked last year better than this year.”

Upon further investigation, her preference basically boiled to which kids were in her class from one year to the next. But nevertheless, I was struck by a seeming absurdity: at the tender age of 6, my daughter was already nostalgic for days gone by!

There is something within all of us, something which tends to grow as we age and to flourish in troublesome times, which pines for yesterday and fears tomorrow. We look at the past with rose-colored glasses, remembering its victories with fondness and discounting its defeats. Alternately, the future’s uncertainty tends to stir a spirit of anxiety rather than opportunity. When pining for greener pastures, we retreat to memory instead of looking forward to what’s next.

But as Advent reminds us, God offers us more than the comfort of the good old days, he brings us assurance of hope for tomorrow. When Jesus came to this world, he brought, as the beloved carol proclaims, “a thrill of hope” for which “a weary world rejoices.” By lowering himself to our level and becoming flesh, God showed his love for us, love which was then borne out on the cross where Jesus died.

Because of Jesus—his birth, life, death, and resurrection from the grave—we are promised that the trials and travails of this life are not all we have to look forward to. God welcomes all who trust his Son into his kingdom, where we experience eternal life and the glories of redemption and restoration. The future is bright indeed!

So don’t cling too tight to the nostalgia of yesterday; don’t convince yourself your best days have passed you by. You may not know what the future brings, but you know who holds it.

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

November Reading Log

 

Not many books in this month's log, but it was a lot of pages. So here's your quick rundown of what I was reading in November!


FUTURE CHURCH by Will Mancini and Cory Hartman

Regular readers of this monthly log know that I'm picky when it comes to church growth books, and I dislike more of them than I like. Too many are just customer service manuals with Bible verses thrown in; at the other end of the spectrum are expository sermons about evangelism with no practical tips. What I'm drawn to are books that take timeless biblical principles and offer on-the-ground advice on applying those truisms in real churches.

Future Church, thankfully, is one of the good ones. Authors Will Mancini and Cory Hartman begin with the true but hardly original thought that the modern church is overprogrammed but underdiscipled, built to maintain its own activities instead of reach the lost for Jesus. They describe a dichotomy between a "Lower Room" and an "Upper Room," with the former representing the status quo—where success is measured by attendance, offerings, and events—and the latter looking to results based on whether church members are making a difference for Jesus outside the church's walls, both through evangelism and service. The "future church," one built for the 21st century instead of clinging to the 20th, will need to move from the lower room to the upper room in order to fulfill its mission.

The second section of the book lays out seven laws churches need to follow in order to make this happen, all of which are general enough to be applicable in any context but specific enough that they don't feel generic. Each law looks at how churches—even so-called successful churches—operated by default in the 20th century, lays out a mission-based problem with that model, and then offers a different way forward, even when it's countercultural.

Then in the book's final section, the authors offer a way for the church to apply these principles so that the church, instead of being an activity center for converts, becomes a launching pad sending out disciple makers. This section, of course, is the tricky part—not diagnosing problems or inventing solutions, but applying a new model to a previously existing one. It falls to the readers and their congregations to see whether they can make it happen in their churches.

This was my kind of church growth book, one which made me think, got my creative juices flowing, and offered words of inspiration. For readers wanting their church to focus more on mission and less on maintenance, I definitely recommend Future Church.


THE DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

When I was in middle school, spurred on by both the Lord of the Rings film trilogy and my general nerdiness, I got really into fantasy books. And in those halcyon pre-Internet (or at least pre-you-can-Google-anything) days, the only way to learn what fantasy books I liked was to go to the local library, peruse the shelves, and literally judge books by their covers.

The Dragonlance Chronicles had heroes reminiscent of the Lord of the Rings (humans, elves, dwarves, etc.), dragons, and epic battles. At over 1,000 pages, it was huge, just like The Lord of the Rings. And most importantly to preteen Daniel, it was an adult fantasy trilogy—Harry Potter was great and all, but I was ready for the grownup stuff. I devoured it in just a few weeks before moving on to the novels of Terry Goodkind (pretty good, then ok, then terrible) and George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series (which I personally think would make an excellent TV show. Somebody should try that.)

Lately, inspired by several BookTokers I follow, I decided I wanted to get back into fantasy, but wanted to start start small—no Robert Jordan or Brandon Sanderson series that would take years to get through. So I went back to what I knew and picked up an anniversary edition of The Dragonlance Chronicles for the first time in 20+ years. Maybe, I thought, you can go home again.

My main takeaway: this is a good series for a middle schooler. Having originated as a Dungeons & Dragons campaign, the series is big on action but never leaves the shallow end when it comes to characterization, plot, or prose. That made it a great story to read on the bus ride to school, especially in the days before smart phones, when a book was the only entertainment available. But for an adult, it gets a little tiresome and formulaic.

I should probably lay out the plot for you, but I'll make it easier on myself. Think of a fantasy trope, any trope. Got one? Ok, then yes, The Dragonlance Chronicles has what you're thinking of. Epic war between good vs. evil? Yep. Magical objects the heroes quest after? You got it. Realms populated exclusively and conveniently by one magical race? Uh huh.

It's not original and it's not deep, but it is usually fun. The writing is breezy, the characters are likeable, and the authors never make you work hard to understand what's happening. So if what you want is the fantasy equivalent of a network procedural show—something to help you relax and unwind after a long day—then this is a good place to turn. If you want high art, keep looking.

ESSENTIAL IRON MAN VOL. 1-2 by Stan Lee, Archie Goodwin, Don Heck, Gene Colan, et al.

Since 2008, Iron Man has been the face of the Marvel Universe. Everybody knows about billionaire playboy Tony Stark and his wondrous suit of armor, and the conventional wisdom is that he's the straw that stirs the drink when it comes to all things Marvel. But for 40+ years, Iron Man was a B-list superhero, better known as a mainstay on the Avengers than for his own adventures.

Nevertheless, those early adventures are worth reading for an amateur comics historian such as myself, so this month I dove headlong into the first two of the five Essential volumes which collect the Silver and Bronze Age stories of Tony Stark and friends. The first 60 stories came in 10-12 page increments in Tales of Suspense, a two-fer comic he shared with Captain America's solo adventures before both characters received their own full-length titles in 1968. Art duties were primarily handled by Marvel journeymen Don Heck and Gene Colan (though comics legend Steve Ditko was the one who freed the hero from his original bulky suit and put him in sleeker red-and-gold armor.)

The early Iron Man stories are products of their time, and come close to being outright propaganda for the Cold War's military-industrial complex. Tony Stark is a proud weapons manufacturer for the U.S., and virtually all of his early villains are Communist agents of the Soviet Union or China. Most stories revolve around a new costumed villain trying to sabotage one of Stark's factories, only to be thwarted by his "bodyguard" Iron Man. Secretary Pepper Potts and driver Happy Hogan, the primary members of the book's supporting cast, give the book both some screwball comedy elements and a love triangle, of which Stark is (of course) the third point.

At least in these first two volumes, the Tales of Suspense stories are superior to those in the full-length Iron Man book thanks to a storytelling pace that is quick, bordering on exhausting. With only 12 pages to work with, there's no time to waste! Plus, while Stan Lee is the primary writer for the Tales of Suspense stories, Archie Goodwin became the scribe once Iron Man got his own book—and while he's fine, there's a reason you've heard of the former and not the latter.

All in all, this is a fun but middling start for a hero who no one in 1962 could have suspected would become a global phenomenon. More to come next month as I tackle volume 3!

Friday, November 28, 2025

Thankful for Christmas (Friday Devotional)

 

I will praise the name of God with a song;
    I will magnify him with thanksgiving.

- Psalm 69:30

The turkey is in the fridge, the Cowboys game is over, and Santa has made his grand appearance at the Macy’s parade. What the department stores have been telling us since Halloween is now official: the Christmas season is upon us.

But as we trade our orange and brown decorations for red and green, I want to issue a challenge to you: don’t give up on Thanksgiving quite yet. Or rather, don’t give up on giving thanks. Christmas is coming, and its message is worthy of our gratitude.

Hope has a name: Jesus. Give thanks.

Peace is promised, and it comes through the Christ child. Give thanks.

Joy is ours, and it’s because of the Lord. Give thanks.

Love has come in the flesh, God with us. Give thanks.

Christ the Savior is born. Give thanks.

Christmas is right around the corner, with all its obligations and stress, but also with all its warmth and spirit. So before you dive into your preparations, partake of one last leftover from yesterday: give thanks for Christmas.

Friday, November 21, 2025

Slowdowns and Sacrifice (Friday Devotional)

 

I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.

- Ephesians 4:1-2

You might be on a particularly narrow stretch of sidewalk, with mud on either side. Or maybe you’re in an especially crowded space, where there’s no room to maneuver around anyone. You could even be behind someone using a walker or a cane, feeling stuck in place while they methodically trudge forward.

Whatever the specifics, we all know the feeling of walking behind someone who is moving slower than you are and being unable to pass them. While such a delay almost never costs you more than a few seconds, it feels like an eternity. With every plodding step the person in front of you takes, you feel your irritation grow—can’t they just move a little faster???

The answer, of course, is often no; people are rarely slowing you down on purpose. But impatience is not one of our more rational emotions. It doesn’t care what excuses others have, only what priorities you have.

Such little slowdowns, then—whether like those described above, or time spent in rush hour traffic, or those moments waiting for someone to return your phone call—can be learning opportunities. Instead of viewing such delays as inconveniences, you can understand them as exercises in humility, instances where you are forced to put somebody else’s needs above your own.

One command believers are consistently given in Scripture—in both the Old and New Testaments—is to be patient with both the Lord and your neighbors. Biblical authors from the prophets to Paul understood that even the most faithful followers of God struggle with subjecting themselves to someone else’s timeline.

But love often requires patience. It means swallowing your own pride and priorities for the sake of someone else’s. It means sacrificing what you feel you deserve so that somebody else can flourish. And yes, it might even mean slowing down when you’d rather they speed up.

So as we enter a season when your schedule is not always your own, let me encourage you to see the occasional slowdown as a blessing instead of a curse. Bearing with others can be a drag—but it can also be a small gesture of love.