Worthy (Friday Devotional)

A centurion there had a slave whom he valued highly and who was ill and close to death. When he heard about Jesus, he sent some Jewish elders to him, asking him to come and heal his slave. When they came to Jesus, they appealed to him earnestly, saying, “He is worthy to have you do this for him, for he loves our people, and it is he who built our synagogue for us.” And Jesus went with them, but when he was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to say to him, “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; therefore I did not presume to come to you. But only speak the word, and let my servant be healed.”

- Luke 7:2-7

The other day, my son Andrew was sorting through his baseball cards and asked me a question: which did I think was worth the most? His suspicion was that a Ken Griffey Jr. rookie card was the answer, but I thought it was a Sandy Koufax card from the 1960s. We argued pleasantly back and forth and eventually the conversation ended without the perfunctory Google search to see who was right. Even as I write this, I still don’t know which card is worth more.

The gospels tell a story where worthiness—not of cards, but of people—seems to carry a lot of weight. In Luke’s account, an influential Roman officer’s slave is so sick he is near death. Hoping Jesus will be able to heal his slave, the officer sends Jewish delegates to the Lord to ask for help. When they do so, they are quick to explain to Jesus that the centurion is “worthy to have you do this for him,” pointing out that he is a friend to the Jewish people and helped with the construction of their synagogue.

When Jesus arrives at the house, however, the Roman officer sends friends out to meet him with a different message: “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.” He had never intended for Jesus to come to his home, for he trusts that with but a word Jesus can heal his servant. And Jesus, amazed by his faith, does just that.

I think this man’s perspective is enlightening. By all the world’s standards, he is the picture of success: wealthy, powerful, and respected in the community. Indeed, he says, “I also am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me, and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and the slave does it.” Yet when faced with a situation he can’t control, he understands what others do not: none of his power or influence makes him worthy of a miracle. Ultimately, Jesus alone is worthy.

That kind of humility and faith is worthy—pun intended—of emulation today. It’s easy to get caught up in society’s markers of success, always trying to climb the next rung up the ladder. Like Andrew with his baseball cards, we want to know what we’re worth.

But the Bible reminds us that our ultimate worth is not found in what we build or buy, but in our relationship with Christ. It is in him that we live and move and have our being, and it is through him that we receive salvation and life with God. Don’t look for worthiness where others do—find it in the presence of Savior.

One-Sided Conversations (Friday Devotional)

"Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway."

- Proverbs 8:34


“Will you eat this if I put it in your lunch?”

“I built a new addition for my terrarium!”

“Mommy, can I ask you a question?”

“Look, I found my hippo!”

It was a normal evening in our kitchen, but based on that string of non-sequitors, I might as well have been standing in Grand Central Station. One person was trying to do a job, others were trying to show off their work, still another was trying to ask something. And everybody was talking at once.

All four members of my family had something to say, and none of them appeared to have a listener. Instead, it was just words thrown out into the wind—questions unanswered, observations unnoticed, announcements unheeded. After all, you don’t just need something to say to have a conversation. You need somebody to listen.

In the Bible, much of what we read about prayer deals with what we say to God. Scripture has much to teach about employing prayer for adoration and intercession and thanksgiving. We know that in faith we can come to God with whatever is on our minds and cast our anxieties upon him, knowing that he cares for us.

But just as we ought to talk to God, so too should we listen to him. Through his Word and through the leading of the Holy Spirit, God teaches us, guides us, and commands us. We have not been left on this earth unaccompanied, but rather have a Lord who is with us always.

Too often prayer is a one-sided affair, where we talk and talk and talk, never even thinking to listen. But if you want to get the most of out of your prayers, don’t stop once you’ve said what you have to say. God has plenty to tell you—are you listening?

September Reading Log

I obviously didn't read as much in September as my sabbatical-filled August, but I still got a few books in...and I liked almost everything I read this month! Take a look below.

 

THE RUTHLESS ELIMINATION OF HURRY by John Mark Comer
SABBATH MEDITATIONS by John Mark Comer

Coming out of my August sabbatical, I decided to stick with the theme from that month, this time with two recent books by pastor and author John Mark Comer. The first, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, is his bestselling take on the spiritual life. He spells out how our modern, frenetic, anxious lives stand in stark contrast to what Jesus promised for his followers: an easy yoke and a light burden. The key, in Comer's telling, is a willingness to be countercultural and reject some of the world's narratives: choose minimalism over consumption, Sabbath over hurry, solitude over stimulation, etc. By his own admission, Comer is not breaking new ground here, mostly just repackaging the works of his heroes like Dallas Willard and Richard Foster in a millenial patois. Nevertheless (or maybe for that reason) I found this book compelling and challenging, and I would recommend it to anyone who finds themselves often feeling stressed and hurried.

Sabbath Meditations is formatted like a devotional book, with readings from Scripture, quotes from spiritual fathers and mothers, etc. This is more of a compilation than an original work, but I may have actually enjoyed it more than The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry for its specific focus on the Sabbath day and insights into why and how to practice it well. Indeed, reading through this book inspired me to lead our family to practice Sabbath with far more intentionality than we ever had previously.

NIGHT SHIFT by Stephen King

Something I have learned over the last 20 years or so: I generally don't care for short stories. For me, one of the joys of reading is spending loads of time with familiar characters and watching their stories play out. Unfortunately, in a short story, the entire experience is akin to the first 20 pages of a book, where you don't have your bearings yet and you're still figuring out the characters and the plot. By the time you start getting attached, the story ends.

Nevertheless, Stephen King is one of my favorite authors, and he writes a lot of short stories. So in September, I tackled his first short story collection, which gathers tales he wrote for various genre magazines both before and after he hit it big with his debut novel, Carrie. It's almost exclusively horror stories, ranging from monsters in the cellar to more suspense-driven, naturalistic tales.

My aversion to the medium meant it took me far longer to read this brief (especially for the normally wordy King) collection; despite its meager 336 pages, I needed half the month to finish this. What's more, some of these stories, like the Bachman books, show us a King still figuring out his writing voice.

With that being said, there are some great stories here, from the Lovecraftian "Graveyard Shift" to the eerie "Quitters Inc." to the truly bizarre "Lawnmower Man." King's imagination for horror and suspense knows no bounds, and so collections like this one are a good way for him to get out ideas that aren't fully formed enough to warrant a full novel.

King completists and fans of short stories should enjoy this collection. It's not my favorite book he's ever written, but reading these 20 tales was still time well spent.

BRAVE NEW WORLD by Aldous Huxley

When people talk about dystopian classics, there are two names that have become part of our cultural vocabulary: George Orwell's 1984 and Aldous Huxley's Brave New World (come to think of it, The Hunger Games may have reached this point too, but let's give it 50 years and see if that lasts). 1984 is a fable about totalitarian governments, prophesying a surveillance state which crushes dissent. Brave New World imagines a less forceful form of government control, where citizens are desensitized, distracted, and entertained, having traded freedom for bliss. While 1984 was required reading in high school, this was my first time reading Brave New World.

In Huxley's telling, the world is ordered by eugenics, with a strict caste system based on your potential to serve the greater good. Citizens are kept sedated on soma, a marijuana-esque drug that keeps everyone mellow and disengaged. Finally, the world has become a place where basically all discomfort, starting with childbirth, has been overcome through technology—it is a world numbed by pleasure. Huxley's world-building is what people still remember today, and the world he imagined is what they often compare our own lives to in the digital age.

Unfortunately, the book's plot doesn't match the setting in terms of intrigue. Essentially, the novel explores what happens when someone outside the norm (a "Savage") is introduced, someone who cares about literature and prefers pain with freedom to strictly enforced pleasure. But the characters are not especially memorable and the pacing is start-and-stop. Huxley's vision is to be admired, but his writing left me cold.

This is required reading for anyone looking to read important 20th century literature, and I'm not about to tell you otherwise. Particularly the first 50 pages, where Huxley lays out his dystopian world, is both educational and entertaining. But if you're only going read one dystopian novel, go with 1984.

THE SUMMER GAME by Roger Angell

For 50 years, the best baseball writer on the planet was the fiction editor for The New Yorker. Roger Angell was one of that magazine's most iconic voices, lending both his talent and his general joie de vivre across generations. But it was with his periodic baseball essays that he made a lasting legacy for himself, earning himself the nickname "The Poet Laureate of Baseball."

The Summer Game is the first collection of those essays, beginning with a 1962 trip to spring training and carrying on into the early 1970s. Angell sought to write from the fan's perspective, rarely venturing into the locker room and often not even into the press box. But it is his prose, somehow both elevated and accessible, that really captures the game's romance—Angell routinely manages to evoke the tradition, beauty, and sentimentality of the game without ever drifting into self-importance.

The essays herein often wind up being season recaps, usually following the World Series. As such, there are aspects that are a little dated, and when he gets into writing play-by-play of specific games, they can get a bit dry some 60 years after those games happened. But when he is profiling teams or speaking to the game's bigger picture, the writing soars and you're transported back in time.

All of Roger Angell's books are a must-read for baseball fans, and this first volume is often named as his best. In real time, the baseball season can let you down, as it did for this Rangers fan in 2026. But Roger Angell never disappoints.

 

ESSENTIAL AVENGERS VOL. 5-6 by Steve Engelhart, Roy Thomas, Rich Buckler, Sal Buscema, et al.

Following the epic Kree-Skrull War, there was a pretty steep dropoff in quality on The Avengers, with the book immediately descending into standard Bronze Age fare and the art going from peak Neal Adams to seemingly whichever artist was handy that day. Thankfully, it didn't take long before Roy Thomas, now swamped by editorial duties, turned the writing duties over to Steve Engelhart. In Engelhart's hands the book dares to go big, particularly with two stories.

The first, which I had previously read in 2017, was the Avengers-Defenders War, a summer crossover event in which Dormammu and Loki conspired to pit Earth's Mightiest Heroes against the ragtag team helmed by Doctor Strange, Hulk, and the Silver Surfer. It's a largely inconsequential story despite the scale, and mostly feels like a kid pitting his action figures against each other—Captain America vs. Namor! Thor vs. Doctor Strange! etc.

More ambitious is the Celestial Madonna Saga, which begins with the introduction of Mantis to the Avengers alongside the team's onetime foe, the Swordsman. In time it's revealed that Mantis' mysterious origin is more than it seems and that she may in fact be the Celestial Madonna, destined to give birth to a universal savior. The story, like many in Engelhart's run, pits Kang the Conqueror against the Avengers and expands upon Marvel's cosmic lore, both by providing the origin story of the Kree and Skrull races and by introducing the Cotati, a plant-like race. Best of all, it all ends with Mantis marrying a tree (ok, a Cotati. But come on, it's a tree.) The '70s were wild, man.

As Bronze Age comics go, Engelhart's run on The Avengers is pretty good—experimental enough to be interesting without going off the deep end (tree marriage notwithstanding), and with plots that are always propulsive. The art is second-tier in these two volumes, but it's serviceable. All in all, these are worthwhile reads for Avengers fans.

Imperfect Worship (Friday Devotional)

Then little children were being brought to him in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

- Matthew 19:13-14

This past Sunday, our children’s ministry held a “Welcome to Worship” weekend in which our church’s ministerial staff walked through what it means to worship and gave the kids some resources to help them stay engaged during the worship service (especially the sermon…the pastor can be kinda boring sometimes!) As the capper to the weekend, the children led the congregation in worship on Sunday morning, doing everything from reading Scripture to praying to singing in the choir and more.

Something I didn’t fully comprehend until it was happening was just how many moving parts there would be when you put children in charge of something that adults normally handle. And let’s face it, kids aren’t necessarily as predictable as adults, even when they’ve been trained how to do something.

As a result, the service wasn’t quite as tight as usual on Sunday. Transitions from one element of worship to the next were sometimes a bit halting. Passing the offering plate required some extra direction. And despite the best efforts of their parents, there was a bit more whispering and movement during the sermon than on a normal week.

If you were watching the service like a judge at the Olympics, there were some obvious imperfections. But none of them seemed to matter to anyone—not the kids, not the congregation, not me. And certainly not the Lord.

After all, Jesus is the one who told his disciples to let little children—messy, noisy, unpredictable children—come to him, because the kingdom of heaven belonged to them. In that moment and many others, Jesus seemed less worried about order than love.

There’s a lesson there for us grownups, who place a high value on procedure and decorum and optics. Jesus wants us to worship in spirit and in truth more than he wants us to hit our marks. He values our sincerity, not our performance. He cares more about the depth of our faith than about how it looks.

That children-led worship service was a lot like the kids who led it. It was a little noisy, because it was joyous. It wasn’t always smooth, because the kids are still learning. In a technical sense, it had its share of imperfections. But in the Lord’s eyes, I think it was just about perfect.

Grace Every Day (Friday Devotional)

Then Peter came and said to him, “Lord, if my brother or sister sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”

Jesus said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.

- Matthew 18:21-22

It was a morning where my kids were definitely acting like siblings. Lots of bickering, lots of teasing, lots of yelling. I was counting down the minutes til we could get out the door to take the eldest two to school.

Then one little moment popped that I want to share with you. Isaac was wanting Katherine’s attention, and she was not in the mood to give it. In fact, she snapped at him to get out of her room. Butting in, I said, “Katherine, he just wants to play. You don’t have to do what he wants, but give him a little grace.”

Her response stuck with me: “I gave him grace yesterday! What, am I supposed to do it every day???”

The gospels tell us that Simon Peter once asked Jesus a question quite similar to Katherine’s: how many times is a believer expected to forgive someone? Peter thought he was going above and beyond by suggesting that seven might be the magic number, especially given that rabbinical teaching released you from that obligation after three forgiven offenses.

But Jesus’s conception of grace stretches far beyond the bounds of fairness or social acceptability. Some translations say that he told Peter to forgive seventy-seven times; others say seventy times seven. The point remains the same either way: there’s not a specific number. Rather, the life of a believer is to be one marked by grace, where instead of keeping track of the ways you’ve been wronged, you are always looking for opportunities to do right. You don’t forgive because you’re expected to do so, you forgive because you’ve been forgiven.

Grace every day—it’s a tough challenge to be sure, an impossible one without the Lord’s help. But for those sustained by his grace, the least we can do is extend it to others.

Never Forget (Friday Devotional)

I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord; I will remember your wonders of old. I will meditate on all your work and muse on your mighty deeds.

- Psalm 77:11-12

Never forget.

That phrase, almost immediately after the devastating terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, became the watchword of its remembrances. Where other national news stories, even tragedies, tend to fade in our collective memories, we were all sternly warned that such a thing ought never to happen with 9/11.

What there seems to be little agreement on, however, is what exactly “never forget” means.

For the grieving, especially the families of those who died in New York, Washington, D.C., and Shanksville, it is a call to remember the men and women who lost their lives on that day, to see them not as statistics but as individual people, each with a story worth sharing. For this reason, the names of those who died are often read one by one at memorial services every September 11.

For the angry and the combative and, in some cases, the prejudiced, “never forget” is a call to arms, a demand that our enemies pay the price for the evil they perpetrated. While the identity of those enemies has tended to shift with the political winds—from Al Qaeda to the Taliban to ISIS and beyond—there have always been some who, as they beat the drums of war, did so with the clarion call, “never forget.”

For those disturbed by today’s political polarization, “never forget” is about the national unity we experienced that September, a time when being a Republican or Democrat mattered less than being an American. Though that solidarity was brought about by tragedy, “never forget” is said with the hope that we might recapture it somehow.

On this 25th anniversary of 9/11, I’ll add one more thing worth remembering. The days following the attacks were filled with fear and anger, there’s no doubt. But from neighbor to neighbor, they were also days marked by compassion and grace. Conflicts that once felt important now seemed insignificant. People looked for ways to be generous, whether by mowing their neighbor’s lawn or by sending money across the country. Prayers came quickly and naturally to people.

That’s because in the wake of a horrific tragedy, God did what he does best: slowly and beautifully, he turned death into new life. Through countless acts of courage and compassion, light began to shine through the darkness and the Lord did redemptive work. Sermons and speeches proclaimed the gospel, but it was the witness of the Christlike who truly brought good news to the brokenhearted.

In the face of unimaginable loss, there were some who dared to love like Jesus. May we never forget what that was like 25 years ago—and may we always remember to do it again today.

The Best Laid Plans (Friday Devotional)

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”

- Jeremiah 29:11-13

A few weeks ago, as my monthlong sabbatical began drawing to a close, I embarked upon something I’d been looking forward to for weeks: a 5-day retreat to practice solitude, enjoy some reading, and work on a few writing projects. My plan was to criss-cross the state, exploring the open road and hitting a new town each day. As for lodging, I had waited too long making my plans to budget properly, so I decided I’d camp in state parks.

Monday evening, after a lovely afternoon in Tyler’s public library and a great coffee shop downtown, I pulled into my campsite at Tyler State Park, pitched my tent, and once the sun went down, I crawled in and zipped the door shut. It was time for a good night’s sleep.

Roughly 1.7 seconds later, I was coated in sweat. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s been hot the last few weeks. Burn your hand on the car door hot. 24-hour heat advisory hot. 90 degrees in the middle of the night hot. As I’d been warned beforehand by my wife and some wary friends, my plan for the week had run into the reality of a Texas summer.

That was one of the worst night’s “sleep” I’ve ever experienced (and the company of the world’s most aggressive raccoon digging around my campsite didn’t help matters). So the next morning, I drove to Waco, paid for 3 nights at the cheapest motel I could find, and bailed on the original plan. My retreat wound up being less scenic than I’d intended, but a lot more air-conditioned.

As the poet Robert Burns famously told us, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. You can think you know what your day, your year, even your life are going to look like, only to have your preconceptions shattered in an instant. Whether because your plans are at fault or because life simply throws you a curveball, sometimes you find yourself completely at a loss, having to feel around in the dark for a new way forward.

In such times, it’s helpful to remember the promise God made to his people in the days of Jeremiah. They found themselves facing an imminent exile into a foreign country, the most humiliating and faith-shaking future imaginable for a nation whose identity was so tied to the Promised Land their God had given them. Needless to say, exile was not their plan.

But even as God warned them of what was to come, the broader perspective he offered was encouraging—that ultimately, his plans for them were for good, not harm. The road ahead was not going to be smooth, and it certainly wasn’t going to be what they would have chosen for themselves. But even as God punished them with exile for their idolatry and faithlessness, he was still going to keep his covenant by preserving them in the midst of their trial. Life was going to look different moving forward, but God had not abandoned them.

For you today, there’s no telling what the future holds. Your big plans for tomorrow may play out exactly as you’ve drawn them up. Then again, they may be ripped to shreds by things far beyond your control, leaving you grasping for new options.

Whatever the case, know that when you cry out to your Father in heaven, he hears you. He has not left you alone in your struggle; he has not abandoned his child. The future may be uncertain, but his love remains steadfast. Your plans may fail you, but your God never will.