January Reading Log

Whew. I read a lot of books this month.

It wasn't necessarily a goal I had, but this happened to be a month where, for a variety of reasons, I seemed to be reading all the time. So buckle up, it's a long one this go-round: 11 books (sort of...the Batman run at the end complicates that number) and more than 2,500 pages. Enjoy!

                     

           

A WRINKLE IN TIME by Madeleine L'Engle

A WIND IN THE DOOR by Madeleine L'Engle
A SWIFTLY TILTING PLANET by Madeleine L'Engle
MANY WATERS by Madeleine L'Engle
AN ACCEPTABLE TIME by Madeleine L'Engle

This month I decided to dive headfirst into a YA classic series I never read as a kid, Madeleine L'Engle's science fiction-meets-spirituality Time Quintet. Simultaneously beloved and derided by Christians (it depends on how fundamentalist you are), these books tackle themes of love, sacrifice, and redemption, sometimes in an explicitly Christian way, while also being rollicking adventures.

A Wrinkle in Time, easily the most famous of the set, is the story of how Meg Murray, brother Charles Wallace, and friend Calvin O'Keefe travel through space and time to rescue Meg and Charles Wallace's father. A classic of the "love conquers all" archetype, this book has the best characters, the fastest pace, and the tidiest resolution of the series. Beloved for a reason.

A Wind in the Door has the same characters, this time traveling inside Charles Wallace's body to save him from a mysterious illness. The highlight of this one, however, is when the mean school principal, Mr. Jenkins, shows up—but is he really who he appears to be?

A Swiftly Tilting Planet turns the keys over to a now-teenaged Charles Wallace, who works with a unicorn to alter the past in order to prevent a coming nuclear apocalypse. This was probably the messiest of the five books and my least favorite, in no small part due to the absence of Meg, a more compelling protagonist than Charles Wallace.

Many Waters is the biggest outlier of the five and maybe my favorite, as it's basically just biblical fan fiction. It sees Meg and Charles Wallace's twin brothers, Sandy and Dennys, transported back in time to the day of Noah, as they interact with the patriarch's family, the glorious seraphim, and the sinister Nephilim. There's not a lot of plot to this one, but I enjoyed the setting enough that I was unbothered by that.

An Acceptable Time sees Meg and Calvin's daughter, Polly, transported back in time to an era when druids walked the earth. There she does her part to help heal her friend Zachary of a deadly illness before returning back to her own time.

All in all, these books are, to my mind, slightly overrated but still lovely stories for kids with a taste for sci-fi. Propulsive, clean, and fun, they're plot-heavy adventures with worthy themes and good writing. If you just read A Wrinkle in Time as a child and stopped there, you probably made the right decision, but you could do a lot worse than to spend a month reading the whole Time Quintet.

AMERICAN GOSPEL by Jon Meacham

In the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, we read that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," a clause which Thomas Jefferson famously described as setting up a "wall of separation" between the church and the state. One could assume from this principle—and subsequent Supreme Court decisions based upon it—that the United States is a secular nation.

Then you go to Washington D.C. and learn we have a National Cathedral. You look on our money and read, "In God we trust." You recite our Pledge of Allegiance and describe the country as "one nation under God." Where's that wall of separation, Jefferson?

In American Gospel, Jon Meacham addresses that inherent tension by offering a cursory history of America's relationship with public religion, from the Pilgrims to the dawn of the 21st century. A moderate in both his theology and his politics, Meacham is an advocate for the separation of church and state, but also repeatedly acknowledges that this is not a secular nation, but rather one in which the people have always cared deeply about religion and expected the same from their leaders. 

For good and for ill, he essentially advocates for the kind of vague civil religion that Eisenhower once infamously said the nation needed: a "deeply felt religious faith, and I don't care what it is." Meacham's project is to show how religion used broadly has united the country and used narrowly has divided it, which history largely confirms.

For somebody who shares Meacham's moderate sensibilities but is also deeply committed to my own faith, I found myself nodding along with this book at times and finding it all a little too squishy at others. In the end, that's probably what Meacham would say is appropriate—faithful Americans ought to live in the tension of knowing their nation is religious without expecting any special treatment as a result. Put another way, America is not a Christian nation—but it is a religious one.

EVERY DAY I READ by Hwang Bo-Reum

Rule of thumb: when I see a book about reading, I pick it up. So when I spotted this one at a local independent bookstore, I immediately put it on hold at our local library.

Written by Hwang Bo-Reum, the Korean author of Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop, Every Day I Read is a collection of 53 short (3-4 pages each) translated essays about the author's love of books. In a humble, approachable way, she writes about the universal love of reading that anyone who would pick up a book like this knows well.

Every Day I Read is best read an essay at a time; when I tried to read it in longer sittings, it got repetitive pretty quickly. But read as intended, it's a cozy celebration of books that may not break any new ground, but is a delight nonetheless.

         

HEARTSTOPPER VOL. 1-4 by Alice Oseman

In the state of Texas, when a parent complains about a book on the shelves of a public school library, a committee is formed to review the content of that book and determine whether it should be permanently removed from the library. Such committees are made up of district librarians, teachers, administrators, and community members in order to assure a diversity of viewpoints. This month, I was recruited to serve on such a committee in a review of the first four books in Alice Oseman's Heartstopper YA graphic novel series. These books were not my normal fare, but I was more than happy to do my part...reading as community service is kind of made for me!

Heartstopper is the story of the romance between two high school boys, Charlie Spring and Nick Nelson, from the moment they meet to Nick's coming out to them being in a committed relationship. It also addresses several issues particularly relevant to teenagers, including bullying, mental health, and eating disorders. Part soap opera, part coming-of-age story, and part PSA, it is a breezy series—I read all four books in a weekend without any trouble—for kids struggling with their identities (or even just for those looking for a queer romance story.) The art and writing style are both manga-adjacent, meant less to be lingered over than raced through.

Is it appropriate for teenagers in our public schools? I'll leave that decision to our committee and will use the rubric we've been given to make my own determination. But I will say this: one of the most beautiful things about books is their ability to make the reader feel less alone. And I have to think—whether it is checked out from the school library, the public library, or bought at Barnes & Noble—that Heartstopper has given comfort, encouragement, and even courage to some kids who feel like nobody understands them. For any institution that puts these books on its shelves, that's something worthy of consideration.

BATMAN by Tom King and Friends (David Finch, Mikel Janín, Clay Mann, et al.)

Few recent comics have been as polarizing as Tom King's 100 issues writing Batman from 2016-2022, a run which saw Batman nearly marry Catwoman, reestablished Bane as a formidable foe, and killed off faithful butler Alfred. Given free rein to tell his story his way, Tom King did so to such an extent that much of his run is no longer considered canon by fans, and the 12-issue maxiseries Batman & Catwoman which concluded that run is formally outside of DC continuity. In other words, lots of people hated it, and did so very vocally.

For my part, I loved about 90% of it.

King essentially has three projects in this book. The first is to humanize Batman, who is often portrayed in comics (and by fans) as a vigilante so competent and so devoted to justice that he seems more like a force of nature than a person. From the first issue, King gives us a Batman who hurts, has doubts, falls in love, and fails—a human being, in other words. This storytelling choice is arguably one of the biggest reasons so many comics fans despise this run, but it's one I think is worth standing by.

The second is to set up a long-term romance with Catwoman, which fans were led to believe (both in the story and by marketing) would culminate in a wedding in issue #50. Unfortunately—and it's not entirely clear whether this decision was King's, DC editorial's, or both—that much-hyped wedding ended with Bruce Wayne abandoned at the altar, a betrayal many readers never forgave. Nevertheless, their relationship is clearly the highlight of King's run, and unquestionably my favorite portrayal of Catwoman I've ever read.

The final overarching story is that of Bane seeking to "break the Bat" once again, this time mentally instead of physically. While the buildup is wonderful, the concluding story, "City of Bane," falls flat somewhat, managing to somehow drag and feel rushed at the same time. However, it does give fans a Bane they can respect, melding some of the gravitas of The Dark Knight Returns with the character's established history in the comics.

As is often the case with King's writing, some of the best parts of this run are single or double-issue stories, such as when Batman and Catwoman go on a double date with Superman and Lois Lane. The character work throughout the run is top-notch, and King has a Morrisonian knack for folding some of the silly parts of Batman's history into a modern story. Little moments, not sprawling stories, have always been King's forte, even as he likes to place them in the middle of huge melodramas.

Tom King's Batman is not a flawless book, and I can understand why fans longed for a "normal" Batman book after years of King's distinctive writing style. But for fans of the writer, this is absolutely worth checking out. Ignore the haters.

Help for the Helpless (Friday Devotional)

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

- Galatians 6:9

Like you, I was stuck in my home this past weekend, held captive by a winter storm that paralyzed the metroplex. My family had everything we needed—heat, running water, plenty of food—but there was nevertheless something destabilizing about knowing I couldn’t get anywhere beyond walking distance. Looking at my sloped driveway covered in a thick sheet of ice, I knew that, even in an emergency, I wouldn’t be able to get my car where it needed to go. In such a scenario, I would be entirely helpless.

Like you, I checked the weather forecast 20 times a day on Monday and Tuesday, waiting to see when things would get back to normal. When would businesses reopen? When would the school district make a decision about welcoming students back? When would the roads be clear? All I could do was refresh my weather app, refresh my email, refresh the various Facebook pages offering me rumors and tidbits of information. Beyond that, there was nothing else to do; I was helpless.

Like you, I spent a lot of time the past week watching events unfold in Minneapolis, especially after the shooting of Alex Pretti by Border Patrol agents. I watched videos taken from multiple angles, I listened to accounts by federal officials, I tried (and failed) to ignore the professional pundits turning a tragedy into a partisan game. A city was squaring off against agents they saw as a hostile occupying force, agents who had now killed two of their fellow citizens. From nearly 1000 miles away, I felt helpless.

Few things get you reaching for despair quite like helplessness, that feeling that you can’t do anything to make things better. When you see a problem, you want to solve it. But when a problem is too big or too complex or too far away for you to tackle, it makes it hard to have any hope.

The Bible offers an antidote for helplessness—help. Do your part, however big or small, to make things better and brighter and more beautiful. Instead of bowing to cynicism or anguish, find a place to shine the light of Christ.

Call somebody you know is lonely. Bake a loaf of bread for a neighbor. Donate to a cause you care about. Pray for those who are struggling. Help, even when your help feels insignificant—because to the one who is helped, it makes all the difference in the world.

Our world is full of voices promising that things are never going to get better, voices telling you to give up, voices of hopelessness. But the voice of truth reminds you that though this world has its share of troubles, Jesus has overcome the world. So in his name, be a helper—especially when the days feel helpless.

Pace vs. Peace (Friday Devotional)

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

- Matthew 11:28

Since the new year began, I’ve been spending some time on the treadmill at my city’s local rec center. In the past, when I could more honestly label myself a “runner,” I preferred running outdoors, but I’ve found that, at least for now, the treadmill is more suitable.

Here’s what I’ve learned to love about the treadmill: with a degree of accuracy I was never able to pull off running around the block, you can set the perfect pace for yourself. When things are leisurely and you realize you’re not even breaking a sweat, you can bump up the difficulty level a few notches. When your lungs start to burn, you can knock it back down. The treadmill will go exactly as fast as you tell it to–no faster and no slower.

I think we can all agree it would be nice if life worked that way, if with the press of a button we could speed some things up and slow other things down. We’d love to be in complete control of what happened to us and when it happened. Alas, we all have to muddle through knowing that some seasons will be more difficult than others. 

But when those hard times come, God’s people are blessed by a promise from the Lord: you can come to him for rest. You don’t have to sink into despair, nor do you have to twist yourself into knots trying to do everything all at once. Jesus is with you.

In a world that sometimes moves impossibly fast, he offers perspective. In times when it feels like you’ve done nothing but hold on, he is with you in the waiting. Because unlike on a treadmill, there is room for more than just you in your struggles. The peace you seek doesn’t come by finding the perfect pace, but by finding the perfect Savior.

Keep The Lights On (Friday Devotional)

Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

- Matthew 5:15-16

Over the last couple of months, my kids yelled the same refrain any time we were coming home at night and I prepared to turn into our alley: “Can we see the Christmas lights?” If they shouted it out quickly enough, I would invariably stop short of the alley, turning instead down one of our neighborhood streets so that we could all get a glimpse of the colorful lights.

But starting December 26, there have been fewer and fewer Christmas lights to see over the past few weeks on our journeys home. Indeed, I even boxed ours up just this week. So when the kids asked me the other night to pull into the street for a look at the lights, I broke the news to them: everybody’s put their lights away.

Some lights work that way, useful for a time only to then be hidden until needed again. Such lights are exclusively decorative, not ones you rely on day-to-day. Putting them away doesn’t leave you shrouded in darkness.

But no homeowner hides all the lightbulbs in their fixtures. No office building takes out their fluorescent bulbs and throws them in storage in the middle of a workday. Cities don’t extinguish their streetlamps. That’s because these types of lights aren’t decorative, they’re necessary.

In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus calls his followers the light of the world, and calls on us to let our light shine before others rather than hiding it from view. What he’s saying is that making our faith visible through good works isn’t optional, it’s necessary.

In a tradition where we understand salvation to come by God’s grace and through faith, there is sometimes a dismissal of the importance of works in the Chrsitian life. After all, if works don’t save you, surely they are secondary, just something you tack on. But Jesus is clear here: good deeds are not merely a decorative part of the life of faith. It is in part by seeing faith in action that others come to know the Lord. So don’t hide your light–you never know whose kid is crying out to see it.

Newness and Nostalgia (Friday Devotional)

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

- 2 Corinthians 5:17

On December 21, about an hour before our church’s candlelight Lord’s Supper service, I left my laptop sitting on my desk while I went to the bathroom. When I returned to my office, I was greeted by a sight no one wants to see: the dreaded “blue screen of death” indicating a major system failure. Over the next few days, our church’s point man for all things related to technology worked his magic, but to no avail. Regretfully, he announced that my computer had bitten the dust and it was time to go shopping for a new one.

So as I type this, I am doing so from a brand-spanking-new machine. It’s more powerful than the old one, its hard drive is less cluttered with programs and files, and I haven’t yet put any fun stickers on its exterior. It runs faster, it has a more advanced operating system, and its graphics are crisper. It is objectively a better computer than the old one.

Nevertheless, I am dealing with a few growing pains. Microsoft Office isn’t installed yet. Passwords that were saved on my old computer’s browser are having to be looked up or reset. The trackpad’s sensitivity is just a hair different from what I’m used to. Little things…but things that make me long for what was when I ought to be grateful for what is.

As the flush of New Year’s Day gives way to the return of routine, I’m reminded that newness always seems to work that way. You greet it with excitement, you revel in those things which are better than before, and you are hopeful for what you have yet to discover. But it doesn’t take long for you to start missing some of the things that are now gone–even when they’ve been replaced by something better!

But if there’s one area where that kind of nostalgia has no place, it’s in your spiritual life. The apostle Paul describes life in Christ as being made new–the old, sinful self has “passed away,” buried in the waters of baptism, and you emerge as a new creation in the Lord. Conversion isn’t a matter of a few cosmetic changes, it’s a total spiritual transformation.

And the promise of Scripture is that you can greet that new life with unreserved joy. You need not look back with fondness to the days when you were enslaved by sin, because in Christ you are set free! You have no reason to be nostalgic for the days when you were lost, because now you are found!

Jesus makes you new, and that is reason to rejoice. So don’t let the enemy convince you things were better before you knew the Lord–because the truth is, in Christ, you are given new mercies every morning, and the best is yet to come.

Making Things New (Friday Devotional)

 

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

- Revelation 21:5

On Wednesday night, the clock struck midnight and a ball dropped in New York City. All around the country, couples exchanged kisses, resolutions were made, champagne flowed, and fireworks exploded into the night sky. After all, it was a new year!

Hours later, those same people woke up after their night partying and discovered something they’d known when they lay their head down to sleep: 2026 offered them the exact same world as the one 2025 had left behind. The calendar had changed, but seemingly little else had.

For believers in Jesus, the hope of a new year—much like that of a sunrise or the blooming of a flower—is merely a shadow of a promised future day when, by the power of the Lord, things will look different. On that day, the Bible promises, fear will give way to victory and sorrow to joy. On that day, faith will become sight and the redemption all believers have experienced spiritually will cover creation. There will be a new heaven and a new earth, and the home of God will be with mortals forever. Everything, Scripture promises, will be made new.

Yet for now, we wait, stuck in a December 31 world, anxiously waiting for the clock to strike midnight. With eagerness, we look forward to Christ’s return and the newness he will usher in. With faith, we place our hope in the future won on Jesus’ cross and sealed by his resurrection.

And there’s one more thing you can do while you wait: you can begin preparing yourself and the world around you for that new day. Instead of playing by the world’s rules, you can live according to eternity’s. Instead of holding tight to the promise of the gospel, you can share it freely. In a world of selfishness and strife, you can be a beacon of the generosity and peace to come. With the knowledge that Jesus is coming soon, you can be his ambassador.

It’s a new year, and until Christ returns, it’s probably going to look suspiciously like the old year. But in his name, you can do your part to make things new.

My Resolutions for 2026

Every year I make a list of New Year's resolutions, all of which have been rattling around my brain for weeks and all of which I fully intend to keep for the duration of the year. They're New Year's resolutions, so that never happens...but dare to dream, right?

So for your entertainment and my accountability, here's the list for 2026!

1. Get in shape.

I know, what a creative choice for a New Year's resolution! 😜

But yes, after several brief, ultimately aborted attempts to do this last year, I fully intend to take this goal seriously in 2026. I've done all the research on what foods to eat and when to eat them, I've decided what kinds of exercise I'm going to emphasize, I've figured out when I'm going to work out each day—the prep work is done. Now I just have to follow through.

My goals for the next twelve months: gain 20-25 pounds, increase core strength, be able to run 5 miles at a 8:30 pace, and develop a consistent, healthy diet that cuts out excessive sugar and junk food. You'll see at this time next year whether I pulled it off!

2. Listen to 300 albums.

Ever since getting into podcasts (in college, WAY before it was cool!) I have listened to way less music than I wish was the case...and what music I do listen to is often dictated by what my family will tolerate in the car. But the fact remains that I own over 10,000 songs, to say nothing of the 30 kajillion available for streaming on Apple Music, Spotify, YouTube, etc. There's a lot of music out there, and I'm wasting opportunities to hear it...if I don't do something intentional now, I'll be that grumpy 70-year old complaining that nobody's recorded any decent songs in 50 years.

So this year I'm running back a failed resolution from 2023 and am aspiring to listen to 300 albums over the course of the year, which I will document and share at the end of 2026. I'll try to have a good mixture of music I know and love alongside stuff I've never listened to. Hopefully you'll be surprised at the end of the year by some of what I enjoyed!

3. Go on one long walk per week.

Sometimes it seems like my life is lived in 2-minute increments, with very little time for the proverbial stopping to smell the roses. Some of that is keeping up with the pace of 21st century life, some of that is being a dad of three young kids, and some of that is me giving in to a culture with a short attention span. Regardless, it seems like I ought to make it a priority to find more time to slow down.

So in 2026, I resolve to go on one long walk per week: 45+ minutes in which I'll put some music on, leave my phone in my pocket, and just be. I expect that most of these walks will happen on Thursdays (my day off/Sabbath) and that I'll make an effort to find solitary places like the Rowlett Creek Preserve for them.

4. Cut my screen time down to 2 hrs per day.

This is what I said in 2023 when I made this is one of my resolutions for the umpteenth time:

Every year I've made it a resolution to put my phone down—to be more present with my family, more open to boredom, and generally more willing to let a minute pass without being stimulated by media. And every year I've given up almost immediately, falling prey to the siren songs of social media and push notifications.

This year, in an effort to make the resolution for measurable, I'm looking to cut my average amount of screen time down from the 4 hours I average to half that. That may mean taking a bathroom break without pulling my phone out of my pocket <gasp> . It may mean eating lunch in silence instead of while watching YouTube videos. It will certainly mean giving Lindsey and the kids my undivided attention instead of checking my Facebook notifications.

Seems like a resolution worth making.

Yep, let's run it back. To better fortune in 2026!

5. Go on a "date" with each member of my family once per month.

Quality time is important, but it can also hard to come by in a family of five. So this year, I'm making it a priority to give each member of my family some undivided attention at least once per month.

For Lindsey, that means a date night or a Starbucks run or a walk around the neighborhood, but it DOESN'T mean the two of us sitting next to each other doomscrolling after the kids go to bed. For the kids, it could mean anything from ice cream to watching a baseball game together to snuggling up and reading a book for half an hour.

The point is for it to be intentional, preferably planned in advance, and at a time when nobody's competing for my attention. Looking forward to this one!

6. Wear my mouthguard. 

This one's pretty simple and should be oh so easy to pull off. Nearly a year ago, my dentist prescribed a mouthguard for me to wear at night, because apparently I grind my teeth in my sleep. I went in for a fitting. I paid several hundred dollars for said mouthguard. I picked up the mouthguard once it was ready for me.

...and it has sat in its case, unused, every since. Vanity is a powerful thing.

Let's see if I can't do better in 2026. I spent too much on the stupid thing not to wear it.

7. Read 6 big books.

I have a TBR spreadsheet (that's "to be read" for those not on BookTok) where I not only keep track of the number of books I own and haven't read, but also the page numbers for each of those books. The total number of pages I have to read to finish the list is...intimidating. Let's just say I won't be knocking it out this year. Or next year. Or the year after that.

What I DO want to do is tackle some of the books on that list which I've been actively avoiding because of their size: Les Misérables, Lonesome Dove, It, etc. I won't get the thrill of crossing a book off the list as often, but I'll still get to put a dent in my TBR's page count that way. At 6 in a year, we're looking at one big book every month, which is ambitious but attainable.

What is "big?" I'm not going to put a legalistic number to it, but generally it means any book on my shelf where I've considered starting it only to hesitate because, "Ehhh, too long." So we're probably talking 800+ pages unless the font is really tiny or the material is pretty dense.

8. Get my finances in order.

Lest this resolution scare you, we're doing ok for our stage of life. Bills get paid on time every month. We're debt-free except for our mortgage. We can afford to pay for any sub-$10,000 emergency without being in trouble. And most months we bring in more than we spend.

But also, our money is still sitting in the First National Bank of Central Texas, whose nearest location is 2 hours from our home. Because of the nature of my job, I have no retirement account, stock options, or any of that other jazz that comes standard with corporate jobs. And in 9 years, the first of my three kids will (presumably) want to go to college.

So this year (sooner rather than later) I resolve for me and Lindsey to have a long, potentially boring and/or unpleasant conversation where we make a financial game plan and stop operating our finances on autopilot. It's time.

9. Watch every MLB team play at least one full game.

One point of pride for me is that I am not a Texas Rangers fan who follows Major League Baseball; rather, I am a Major League Baseball fan whose team is the Texas Rangers. I follow all the goings-on in MLB—online, through several podcasts, via a couple of newsletters, etc. But what I don't do as often as I'd like is actually sit down and watch a non-Rangers game (at least until October) for more than an inning or two at a time.

So in 2026, I resolve to watch every team at least once—a full nine inning game for all 30 teams. Theoretically, this can be pulled off in as little as 15 days; it's easily achievable. I'm hoping that by doing so I'll learn some new names, get introduced to some broadcasters I've never heard before, and maybe even luck into some great performances along the way.

To keep myself accountable, my plan is to actually keep score of all of these games (whether from home or, in those fortunate instances when it applies, at the ballpark.) That's something I haven't done much since we started bringing small children to games, and I miss it. I'll let you know at the end of the year if I saw anything particularly memorable!

10. Be more joyful.

As I shared in a sermon a few weeks ago, my son Andrew recently said something to me that's been haunting me ever since. I was fixing lunch for him and his siblings after church one Sunday, chatting away with them all, and he remarked, "This is nice, Daddy! You're not grumpy like usual!"

He didn't mean for it to be the absolute kill shot that it was. But man has it stuck with me.

So I'm ending this list with a resolution that is far from measurable, but one I'm taking very seriously: I want to be more joyful this year. My God is too good, my life is too good, and my life is too short for grumpy to be my default setting. Here's to a joyful 2026!