My Resolutions for 2020

Over the last few years, I've come to really enjoy the practice of making New Year's resolutions. I love thinking about ways to use my days better, about how I can make this year worthy of the time I've been given. So for the last 2 years I've made a relatively long list of resolutions (the first year I arbitrarily cut it off at 13 and I've stuck with that number ever since), then kept track over the course of the year how well I'm sticking to my goals.

As with 2018 and 2019, some of this year's resolutions are easy to accomplish. Others will make you raise your eyebrows skeptically at my ambition. But hey, it's my list. Take a look!

1. Spend 30 minutes in prayer every morning

My most meaningful times of prayer, when I wasn't just rattling through a list of requests but also taking time to give thanks and listen to what God was telling me, took some time. Short prayers aren't bad (especially when you're praying publicly), but like with anything else, the longer you spend doing something, the more engaged you are.

So in 2020, I'm going to set aside time each morning to pray for 30 minutes. So when you tell me about a prayer request of yours and I respond, "I'll be praying," you'll know I mean it.

2. Spend 30 minutes reading the Greek New Testament every morning

I want to work on my biblical Greek, which has been abysmal since roughly the day after I finished my second seminary course in the language. I also want to read the Bible slowly and methodically during my devotional times, which is difficult for someone like me who tends to speedread.

So I'm going to use my weakness for good and do my daily Bible reading in Greek this year. Hopefully by the end of the year I'll be able to translate more than a couple verses in half an hour.

3. Spend one hour writing every day

Here's an ambitious one.

Writing is part of my job—I write sermons, I write Bible studies, I write devotionals, I write e-mails. The thing is, there's other writing I want do: music reviews, blog posts, and (spoiler alert for resolution #13) even a book. But I've finally come to the obvious conclusion that, unless I set aside time to do that extracurricular writing, it's never going to happen.

So in 2020 I am resolving to write every single day of the year for one hour at a time. That means Saturdays, that means Sundays, that means Christmas. Every. Single. Day. Some days that may mean other things I enjoy (e.g. reading) get pushed aside. But I'm bound and determined to be disciplined about this. One hour of writing, every day. We'll see what words I come up with.

4. Buy 5 books or fewer in 2020

A never-ending goal of mine is to read every single book I own, to be able to buy a new book without guiltily thinking about the stacks of unread novels waiting for me at home. But as things currently stand, I own 17 graphic novels/comic book collections and 25 "real" books (novels, biographies, etc.) which I have yet to read. *Note: This doesn't count books on my shelves at the church. Those don't count, because reasons.*

So accomplishing the Big Goal of finishing everything I own by the end of the year isn't realistic. Not this year anyway. But to make it a more manageable goal for next year, I am resolving to buy 5 books or fewer throughout the year. That will make trips to Half Price Books a torturous experience sometimes, but my wallet and my to-read list will thank me.

5. Read at least one classic novel every month

While I read all the time, there are an embarrassing number of books in the literary canon I've never gotten around to, from Moby Dick to The Invisible Man to most of the works of Shakespeare. So in 2020 I hope to be able to cross at least 12 such books off my list. Reading the classics shouldn't stop after high school.

If you go back and look at the last few months' worth of reading logs, I've actually already started doing this. I'm enjoying it so far; here's hoping that continues throughout the year.

6. Organize and decorate my office

Before our Christmas Candelight Lord's Supper service, the deacons gathered in my office to go over the details of the service. While we were waiting for everyone to arrive, one of them looked around at the mostly bare walls of the office, turned to me, and said, "It's, uh, looking pretty sparse in here, pastor."

He's 100% right. When I became pastor of SGBC 7 months ago, I didn't know exactly how I wanted to decorate my office beyond putting my books on shelves. So I put it off. And now here I am, 7 months later, and my office still looks like I just moved in. It's not homey. It's not comfortable. It needs work.

So in 2020 I will finally set aside the time to make this half-empty room a place where I want to work and where people want to come in and talk.

7. Reach out to at least 50 local ministers

One of the things I miss about Waco is the network of local ministers I cultivated over 10 years living there.  Moving to Garland, I was basically back at square one in that respect. So in 2020, I'm going to start intentionally building a network of friends and coworkers in ministry by meeting or talking with at least 50 fellow ministers. I'll settle for a phone conversation, but my preference is coffee or lunch.

Lunch meeting #1 is already set up for next week. Looking forward to the connections we'll make and partnerships we'll form.

8. Write a note every day

I like receiving handwritten notes. Who doesn't? And the best notes are the unexpected ones, the notes that aren't prompted by a birthday or a gift, but just written because somebody was thinking of you.

So in 2020, I'm going to do my best to write at least one of these notes every day, mostly to members of my congregation. I'm hoping they'll appreciate it, and I suspect I'll really enjoy doing it.

9. Be intentional about social media

At November's National Preaching Conference, I attended a session in which Dr. Angela Gorrell persuasively argued that social media is neither something ministers should embrace unthinkingly nor reject out of hand. Rather, she said, it is an opportunity to engage with people in a way that you can't or don't in "real life." Social media, when used intentionally and creatively, can be a medium for connection, encouragement, and ministry.

So, after years of toying with the idea of deleting my social media accounts, I'm instead going to lean in, at both a personal and professional level. But here's the catch: intentionality goes for my consumption of social media too, not just what and when I'm posting. So my plan is to check my various accounts 3 times per day: once in the morning, once at lunch, and once in the evening (and not right before bed). This will keep me in the loop, but also keep me from pulling up Facebook or Twitter every time I have an idle second.

Social media can be a sewer. But virtually everyone is swimming in it now, so better that I do my part to introduce some clean water than just hope the sewer cleans itself.

10. Eat like an adult

For roughly a decade, I have been eating whatever I want whenever I want without any regard for the consequences. Chips and ice cream for lunch? Sure. Extra jalapeños on my chili cheese burger? Why not.

2019 was the year my body informed me in no uncertain terms that enough was enough and I was not going to be able to keep eating like a college student for the rest of my life. Not without consequences, anyway. So 2020 is the year I shift away from lazily opting for junk food on a regular basis and start <gulp> eating like a responsible adult.

Note: this isn't a diet. I'm not trying to lose weight. But it's time I start opting for fruit as a snack instead of gummy bears. Or, you know, opting for fruit at all.

I'm not going to lie, I'm not really looking forward to this one. But I'm 30 years old. It's time.

11. Do something nice for Lindsey every day

Last year after I read my list of resolutions to Lindsey, she jokingly (or maybe not so jokingly) asked, "You didn't want to include any about doing nice things for your wife?"

Lesson learned.

12. Memorize 368 Bible verses/passages

I tried this last year, and was almost halfway there when I fell too far behind to catch up. So this year, I'm combining that bygone resolution with one of my new ones (#9, the one about using social media intentionally).

Every day I will memorize one of the Bible verses or passages for which I made a flashcard last year. Once I've memorized my verse each day, I'm going to film myself reciting it, then give a brief devotional thought based on the verse (and by brief, I'm talking 2 minutes or less). The videos will be posted to Instagram every day.

My hope is that 1) this will encourage other people in my church to take the challenge of memorizing Scripture 2) offer people some simple, helpful exegesis and 3) hold me accountable for accomplishing this goal. An introductory video for this project is already up; look for the first verse tomorrow!

13. Write a book

This is the third year in a row I've ended the list with this resolution. It's happening this year. I mean it.

Now I just hope the book is good.

2019 New Year's Resolutions Scorecard

For the last couple years, I've decided to take the idea of New Year's resolutions seriously, coming up with a list of 13 goals for the year, from the easily achievable to the virtually impossible. Then, at the end of the year, I go back to my list and see how I measured up.

Last year, I was pretty pleased with how I did, achieving 8.5 out of 13 resolutions, a success rate of 65%. Considering the ambition of a few of those resolutions (I wanted to learn 5 languages. Yeah.), I'm pretty proud of that.

Different story this year. Turns out that when you get a new job, buy a house, move, and have a baby, self-improvement goes on the back burner. You're just trying to stay sane and do a good job at the things that matter.

Nevertheless, the time has come to pay the piper. Here's a look at the resolutions I made at the end of 2018 (before, keep in mind, I knew what the year would bring), and how I measured up. Spoiler alert: I didn't come anywhere close to a 65% success rate.

1. Spend 30 minutes per day in personal Bible study

The plan here was to start every morning by working through questions and personal knowledge gaps related to the Bible, a goal I still think is a worthy one. Unfortunately, I didn't do enough planning ahead of time on what questions I'd be asking or topics I'd be exploring.

So by mid-February, I was out of ideas, and started finding other ways to spend that time. By the time Andrew and I joined Dad on a long weekend trip to spring training (vacations are often the death of New Years resolutions), this particular goal was out of sight and out of mind.

This was a good resolution, but one that required more foresight than I gave it. Maybe I'll try again another year and give it the effort it deserves.

Score: 0 out of 13

2. Develop and stick to a prayer plan

This is why it's important to occasionally look at your list of resolutions instead of just relying on memory. This was a good resolution, one that would have reaped some spiritual benefits and made me a better person, husband, father, and pastor...if I'd remembered I'd resolved to do it. Oops.

Score: 0 out of 13

3. Memorize one Bible verse per day

I tried, guys. I really tried. As of May 1, I was on pace, and memorizing a verse every afternoon was part of my daily routine. Occasionally I'd miss a day, but then the next day I'd memorize two and things would be back on track. But in May, when my days started to feel like an endless series of phone calls between Lindsey, the realtor, and the mortgage company, I got off track. One 2 week trip to Europe and subsequent move to Garland later, I was roughly 30 flashcards behind and suddenly too busy to catch up. By the time Katherine was born in October, my goal had shifted from memorizing a verse per day to simply making a flash card each day.

So here we are one year later, and I have 368 flash cards ready to go for 2020. Better luck next year.

Score: 0 out of 13

4. Run the Dallas Marathon

Here's the thing. To train effectively for a marathon, you need to start training 18 weeks before the event (at least according to the plan I used when I ran a marathon in 2015). 18 weeks before this year's Dallas Marathon, I was 2 months into a new job and a new home, and 2 months away from becoming a father for the second time. What's more, completing my training would have meant leaving home for hours at a time multiple times a week to train, which would have meant leaving Lindsey at home with a brand new baby and a toddler to do so.

So did I accomplish this goal? Nope, never even started training. Do I regret it? Not for a second.

Score: 0 out of 13

5. Volunteer one hour per week (outside of church)

The first week of January, I went to the Waco-McLennan County Library and inquired about volunteering there. They politely let me know that, due to all kinds of bureaucratic nonsense, you pretty much have to be an employee if you want to so much as stock the shelves at the public library.

So where did you go next, Daniel? Mission Waco? Shepherd's Heart Food Pantry? The World Hunger Relief Farm? Nope. I gave up. Not my finest moment.

Score: 0 out of 13

6. Listen to 3 songs every day

More than any other resolution, I'm kicking myself for not accomplishing this. Not because it's the most important resolution on the list, but because it should have been so easy to pull off. 10 minutes of music every day. 10 minutes.

But no. Podcasts are what I listen to when I'm exercising and running errands, and I subscribe to too many to ever be completely caught up, so getting my 3 songs in meant choosing music over work or play for 10 minutes every day. And alas, I did not make that a habit.

Score: 0 out of 13

7. Get organized

First, I bought a planner and used it. Second, I made a concerted effort to talk through our schedule with Lindsey instead of just relying on her to handle it. Third, I started planning my sermons on a quarterly basis so that I was never showing up to work on Monday without knowing what Sunday's message would be about. And fourth (and most importantly), I became pastor of a church where the staff meets weekly, committee chairs and deacons meet monthly, and where I work with a fantastic, trustworthy, reliable ministry assistant who gently reminds me of all the things I might forget if left to my own devices.

So, do I still have work to do in this area? Yes. Organization and time management don't come naturally to me, so I'll always have room for improvement here. But did I make the effort to "get organized" and see results? Also yes. Finally, a success story.

Score: 1 out of 13

8. Be mindful of my screen time

Like a lot of millenials, I'm glued to my phone. Like a lot of millenials, I feel guilty about it. Like a lot of millenials, I don't seem to have the willpower to stop.

The hope was that making this resolution would inspire me to keep the phone in my pocket unless I actually needed it, to use it instead of allowing it to use me. Unfortunately, what ended up happening was the status quo: I would fall into bad habits, hit a breaking point, renew the resolution, and then fall back into bad habits. No progress. The "Screen Time" stats my iPhone gives me on a weekly basis still depress me.

Look for a revised, more intentional version of this resolution in 2020.

Score: 1 out of 13

9. Watch all the Marvel Studios movies prior to seeing Avengers: Endgame

Thanks to the Waco-McLennan County Library, my parents' Netflix subscription, and only having one child to put to bed every night (Endgame came out in May; Katherine was born in October), we pulled this one off without much difficulty. It made for a fun challenge, and it was interesting to watch Marvel's now-well-worn formula develop in the early days of the franchise.

Score: 2 out of 13

10. Watch 50 movies in 2019

I saw 45. So close and yet so far.

Thanks mostly to resolution #9, I was 30 movies deep in May, well above the needed pace to hit 50. I was still on pace when Katherine was born. Then, to the surprise of no one with kids, I watched exactly 1 movie for the 3 months after her birth.

This was a fun resolution when we had more time on our hands. But some things—and some people—are just more important. Oh well.

Score: 2 out of 13

11. Throw away fewer leftovers

Admittedly, I've backslid a bit on this resolution since moving to Garland, but at this point in the list I'm taking my victories where I can find them. We waste less food than we used to and I don't resort to fast food as often, so I'm saying mission accomplished, even if there's still room for improvement.

Score: 3 out of 13

12. Write a book

Nope. Look for this one to show up on my list for the third year in a row in 2020.

Score: 3 out of 13

13. Learn Spanish

This was on last year's list too. I exerted exactly as much effort this year as last year, and made exactly as much progress (none on both counts). I still think this is an extremely important resolution, but I'm taking it off the list for 2020 until I have more of a plan on how to achieve it.

Score: 3 out of 13



So there you have it, 3 out of 13, a 'success' rate of 23%. I have regrets about some missed opportunities, but have greeted this year's scorecard largely with a shrug. In a year of big transitions, January's goals simply gave way to the realities of May, June, and October. Next year, which promises to be much more stable, should go much better.

Tune in tomorrow to see what's on the docket for 2020!

Putting Christmas Away (Friday Devotional)

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

- Romans 15:13

Christmas has come and gone, and before long all traces of its presence will have disappeared. The cookies will be eaten or thrown away. The gifts will find permanent homes in toy chests and on bookshelves. Even the lights, wreaths, and decorations that you spent days setting up after Thanksgiving will be shoved back in their corner of the attic until next year. Before long, there will be no sign of Christmas anywhere.

But even as the radio stations put their Bing Crosby records back in storage and your neighbors do the same with their outdoor nativity scene, there is no reason to abandon Christmas completely. After all, it’s at Christmas that we recognize that hope and joy are potent enough forces to hold fear at bay. It’s at Christmas that we allow ourselves to believe in peace on earth and practice good will toward men. It’s at Christmas that we are filled with a spirit of generosity, kindness, and love for those around us, even perfect strangers.

Most of all, it’s at Christmas that we remember what the birth of Christ showed us once and for all: God is with us. No matter how lonely we feel, no matter what trials we face, the sending of Immanuel resounds every year and prompts us to move from worry to praise.

So let me encourage you, even as your red and green outfits are packed away, to keep celebrating Christmas in 2020. Hope, peace, joy, and love are too important to reserve for one month per year. May Christmas be more than a holiday for you—may it be your witness.

Where is Jesus? (Friday Devotional)

“And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

- Matthew 28:20b

In my house, we’ve started a new holiday tradition this year: every morning when he wakes up, Andrew has to find Jesus.

…I should explain that. On the fireplace, we have a small toy nativity set, complete with the holy family, shepherds, plastic animals, and an angel on the roof of the stable. So in an adaptation of the popular “Elf on a Shelf” tradition, Lindsey and I decided that every night we’d hide the baby Jesus somewhere in the house and ask Andrew to find it the next morning. It’s a silly, simple game, but we like the way it brings Andrew’s attention to Jesus on a daily basis.

The game has also taught me an unintended spiritual lesson. As I’ve watched Andrew groggily wander through the various rooms in the house, I’ve heard him narrating his search: “He’s not in here…Jesus isn’t here either. Where is he?” And as I’ve heard his little voice saying those words, I’ve realized: there are a lot of people in this world saying the exact same thing.

In a season when we celebrate the news that God is with us, many have never felt more alone. Even as we sing of joy to the world, there are those who are mired in despair. Our world is full of people whose experiences have convinced them that the Lord wants nothing to do with them.

So especially during Advent, when we worship the God who was and is and is to come, when we remember Christ’s birth and anticipate his return, we owe it to the hurting to proclaim the good news that God is with us. For those who think God is unknowable, we have a duty to share that the Word became flesh and lived among us. For those who think that God has rejected them, we must proclaim that Jesus is hope for everyone.

There are a lot of people in this world looking for hope, for peace, for joy, and for love. Whether they know it or not, they’re looking for Jesus. As his disciples, our responsibility—and our delight—is to help them find him.

Sharing Christmas (Friday Devotional)

When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child.

- Luke 2:17

Every night this week, my family has spent time after dinner decorating the house for Christmas—pulling ornaments out of boxes, finding places to put nativity sets, hanging stockings, etc. Tuesday night was the big one, the night we set up our tree, and Andrew was excited to help. Carefully holding the Thomas the Tank Engine ornament Grandma had bought him, he circled around the tree until he’d found the perfect spot for it, then asked me to help him hang it on the branch. When he stepped back and admired his handiwork, he couldn’t have looked much prouder.

So we were confused a few minutes later when we saw him sitting under the tree trying to put the Thomas ornament back in its box. I asked what he was doing, and his answer has stuck with me all week: “I’m putting it away so that when everybody comes over to my house they can put it on the tree with me and they can have Christmas too!”

Without even meaning to, Andrew offered me a simple reminder: Christmas—its story, its themes, its message—is something meant to be shared, not kept to ourselves. Since the night of Christ’s birth, people have been proclaiming the good news that God is with us, and anyone who believes that to be true ought to be telling others. Hope, peace, joy, and love are too big a gift to hoard.

The sad truth is that someone in your life is trudging through this holiday season instead of relishing it. Perhaps they’re mourning the first Christmas with an empty chair at the table, or maybe they simply can’t get past the cynical commercialization of the holiday. Whatever the reason, these are the people who most need someone to share Christmas with them.

This is the time of year when we give—charities receive record donations, soup kitchens are full of volunteers, and, of course, presents are exchanged between family and friends. Amidst all the usual giving, make an effort during this Advent season to find the person in your life who seems more disappointed than joyous. And then see what you can do to make sure that, in Andrew’s words, they can have Christmas too. After all, Christmas has always been something worth sharing.

November Reading Log

It's a short log this month—thanks to a week in Waco with my family for a pair of conferences and the Thanksgiving holiday, a lot of the time I normally would have spent reading was instead spent with family. A trade-off I'll take any time. Nevertheless, I did some reading...take a look!

2 Articles I Like This Month

"Worshiping Screens in Our Temples of Consumption" by Joshua J. Whitfield, The Dallas Morning News. 4 minutes.

Much has been made of the rise of the "nones," i.e. the religiously unaffiliated. In this piece, Catholic priest Joshua Whitfield argues that this is not because of a lack of spiritual hunger, but because people are seeking meaning, community, and purpose online instead of in communities of faith. A stark, challenging read.

"This Tom Hanks Story Will Help You Feel Less Bad" by Taffy Brodesser, The New York Times. 23 minutes.

Most celebrity profiles are written with an eye for the extreme, to show that stars are not, in fact, just like us. This piece on Tom Hanks accomplishes that goal, but not by showing eccentricities or a lavish lifestyle—it simply illustrates for the reader that, in a town obsessed with image, Tom Hanks is a picture of sincerity.

BIG DATA BASEBALL: MATH, MIRACLES, AND THE END OF A 20-YEAR LOSING STREAK by Travis Sawchik

My timing could not have been worse in terms of when I chose to read this book, which chronicles how the 2013 Pittsburgh Pirates built a winning baseball team using previously unknown or underrated statistics and strategies. For one thing, the Pirates were arguably baseball's biggest mess last season, a last place team who only seemed to make headlines when they prompted a dugout-clearing brawl on the field (something which happened with absurd frequency given their pitchers' tendency to pitch inside.) For another thing, the stars of the book, manager Clint Hurdle and general manager Neal Huntington, were both fired this offseason (in fact, Huntington was fired the day before I started reading this book!) Nevertheless, this book was worth reading because it captured an important moment in time, the dawn of sabermetrics' universal acceptance by MLB's 30 teams.

The book opens with a meeting between Hurdle and Huntington, both of whom are on the hot seat after 20 straight seasons of the Pirates finishing below .500, including several under their watch. Hurdle and Huntington jointly agree to take the plunge into sabermetrics and use the season as a laboratory for strategies previously considered too radical for the big league level. By embracing on-field strategies like defensive shifting and pitch framing and mining proprietary "big data," the Pirates were able to turn a low-budget ball club into a playoff team.

If this all sounds like Moneyball II, that's exactly what it is, the story of an underdog team which used sabermetrics to overachieve. And just like Moneyball, there are some blind spots—Andrew McCutchen, who won the National League MVP in 2013, is barely mentioned. Nevertheless, it's a compelling story, one that author Travis Sawchik tells without getting too lost in the statistical weeds. If you like baseball and want to better understand how and why baseball front offices have started to seem like Silicon Valley startups, this book is a good place to turn.

THE JUNCTION BOYS: HOW TEN DAYS IN HELL WITH BEAR BRYANT FORGED A CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM by Jim Dent

I have a really hard time with this book. This is actually the second time I've read it, with the first coming in college. As the subtitle indicates, it's the story of how Bear Bryant, in his first year coaching at Texas A&M, put his team through a hellish training camp that saw only 38 players stick with the team by the end, and how those players served as the core of a team that would win the Southwest Conference Championship two years later. Jim Dent tells the story with Texas flair and respect for the old adage that "when the legend becomes fact, print the legend." Style is not my issue with Dent or his book.

My issue is that, in telling the story of Bryant's harsh training camp in Junction, Dent not only forgives but arguably glorifies coaching behavior that is nothing short of abusive. In Dent's telling, Bryant, who was obsessed with toughness, sought to weed out weaker players through fear, intimidation, and outright violence. Some of this can be waved off by saying "it was a different time": practices where players were denied water (even in 100+ degree heat), forcing players to play through minor injuries, etc. But to cite one infamous example, Dent tells a story about how Bryant, just to make a point, headbutted one of his players hard and repeatedly until he broke his nose. In another example, Bryant told his quarterback that if he refused to play despite broken vertebrae, he'd lose his spot on the roster. What are we supposed to admire about that?

In the book's second half, as the training camp in Junction draws to a close and Dent narrates the team's progression over the next two season, he makes clear that Bryant eventually came to regret his methods and mellowed. However, Bryant's repentance is limited to halfhearted apologies along the lines of "I probably should have treated y'all better," and nothing close to penance. What's more, every trace of disapproval Dent shows with Bryant is countered by testimonials from Bryant stalwarts who insist that his methods made them into the men they are today.

To sum it up, my issue with The Junction Boys, an unquestionable classic of sportswriting, is that it sends a message that winning permits any behavior, that the ends justify the means. I hear that enough these days on the news. I won't endorse it here.

THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA by Ernest Hemingway

Hard to explain what I thought of this one, an undisputed part of the American canon and winner of the 1953 Pulitzer Prize. Did I appreciate it? Yes. Did I enjoy it? That's where it gets more complicated.

The Old Man and the Sea is the story of an elderly fisherman beset by bad luck who sails out to sea determined not to return home until he has some success. Alone at sea, he comes upon a marlin of such size that is almost seems mythological; he spends days with his line in its mouth before he finally catches it and hauls it aboard his boat. However, the monstrous catch is not without complications, as he is attacked repeatedly by sharks on his way home due to all the blood from the fish. By the time he makes it home, little remains of his catch, but the journey serves as convincing proof that, despite his bout of lucklessness, he is still a man of the sea.

As I read the book, I had to admire Hemingway's craft. Essentially, this is a 140-page book about catching a fish, and yet Hemingway fills it with far more meaning than that, allowing the story to say a great deal about perseverance, pride, and manhood. Furthermore, Hemingway manages to tell the story with barely any dialogue; the vast majority of the story is a man vs. nature story, and the only voices in the narrative are the author's and the thoughts of the old man. Finally, Hemingway's prose is as advertised, matter-of-fact yet beautiful, never relying on flowery language when simplicity will do the job.

But did I enjoy the book? Look, it's a story about man catching a fish...that's a tough sell no matter how good the writing is. As much as I was able to appreciate Hemingway's craft, there were sections where reading it was a chore. Some books you love, others you merely appreciate. For me, this was the latter.

THE IMMORTAL HULK VOL. 1-3 by Al Ewing, Joe Bennett, Lee Garbett, et. al

Depending on who's writing him, the Hulk can be a lot of things: a primal beast, a source of comic relief, and a Jekyll-Hyde analogue, just to name the most popular examples. Sometimes his book is a a standard superhero book and sometimes it tries to do something more. In The Immortal Hulk, writer Al Ewing goes a route rarely traveled with the character, writing his stories as a horror book.

Ewing lays out the ground rules in the first issue. First, the Hulk is back after his latest 'death' in the Civil War II storyline, and Ewing establishes that the Hulk is in fact, as the title suggests, literally impossible to kill. Second, going back to a dynamic not used since the Hulk's first few appearances in 1962, Bruce Banner now becomes the Hulk at night and then transforms back at sunrise—"night belongs to the Hulk." Third, this Hulk is a "devil Hulk," a reasonably intelligent monster whose brutality comes not from mindless rage but from frightening purpose. Ewing, in other words, is not doing a book that uses the Hulk as a metaphor for anger—the traditional take on the book—but as a metaphor for our inner darkness.

As for the plot, we see the Hulk acting as both pursuer and pursued, acting as a dark vigilante even as is being chased by enemies with good intentions (Sasquatch, a Canadian Hulk knock-off) and bad (General Fortean and Gamma Base). The highlight comes when Hulk and Co. actually go to Hell, where he wages psychological warfare against his ultimate enemy, Bruce Banner's abusive father.

This is not a perfect book by any measure—Ewings scripts can be messy and Joe Bennett's art is a Mark Bagley-esque mixture of cartooning and realism that doesn't always fit the tone of the book. But The Immortal Hulk at least feels like a fresh, energized take on a character that has seemed stale in other people's hands. I really enjoyed breezing through these initial four volumes, any may well pick up the next few.

ESSENTIAL CAPTAIN AMERICA VOL. 6 by Jack Kirby, Roy Thomas, Steve Gerber, Sal Buscema, Roger McKenzie, et al.

After diving into Jack Kirby's wacky, cult classic run on Cap in the 1970s with Essential Captain America Vol. 5, I couldn't resist completing the run, which continues into this volume. While the King never quite achieves the heights of the Madbomb storyline which began his run, the stories continue to be delightfully imaginative and absurd, utterly unlike anything else being produced at the time. As I said last month, even Kirby in twilight is better comics than 90% of what was being put out in the Bronze Age.

And that's proven by the second half of this Essential, which sees a return to middling, aimless Cap stories once Kirby leaves the title. The primary storyline is a manufactured one about Cap seeking out information about his past, before Steve Rogers received the Super-Soldier Serum. Apparently, though it had never been mentioned in the nearly 20 years of comics since Cap was discovered and revived by the Avengers, Steve has had amnesia about his pre-World War II life. So most of the issues here are about him leaving his partnership with the Falcon and his responsibilities with S.H.I.E.L.D. to go on a navel-gazing vision quest that ultimately pits him against a Nazi supervillain because, you know, comics. If it all sounds pretty self-indulgent and even a little boring, well, I can't disagree with you there.

These stories illustrate the surprising thing I've found after reading hundreds of Captain America comics—despite being my favorite Marvel superhero, his is a pretty difficult title to keep compelling on a month-to-month basis. Cap just works better in the context of a team, or at least a partnership, and when he's forced to fly solo the stories almost always veer into angsty melodrama or generic villain-of-the-week stories. The subtitle of the first Captain America movie—The First Avenger—speaks to the core of the character; he's almost always more interesting when leading a team than when going it alone. The post-Kirby material in this Essential proves it. Look for volume 7 next month, which sees the book move past the drudgery of the Bronze Age into the 1980s and the classic Roger Stern/John Byrne run. See you then! 

Giving the Gospel (Friday Devotional)

So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.

- 1 Thessalonians 2:8

With Thanksgiving now in the rearview mirror and hordes of shoppers descending on stores, the season of giving is officially upon us. For the next month the lines will be long, the parking lots will be packed, and presents will steadily pile up beneath Christmas trees.

For Christians, the season of giving is about more than consumerism or generic holiday cheer. It is during Advent that we reflect on the awesome truth that God is with us in Christ, that the Son of God came to this earth in humility and brought us salvation. As we celebrate this gospel during Advent, we are also inspired to share it, to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ with renewed fervor. So how should we give Jesus to people in this special season of giving?

Some do so with such passion that they become combative—fearing that the world has “taken the Christ out of Christmas,” they resolve to put him back in themselves by forcefully inserting Jesus into every otherwise innocuous holiday exchange. The trouble with such an approach is that nobody ever savored a meal they were force-fed—it’s hard to appreciate the goodness of the Good News when it’s being shouted at you.

So others take things to the opposite extreme, virtually ignoring the Christmas story and counting on generic themes of joy and generosity to carry forward the specific message of the gospel. The problem with this approach, of course, is that it’s tough for anyone to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ without ever mentioning his name. While generalized talk about hope, peace, joy, and love is fine, if it isn’t eventually tied to the person of Jesus Christ then it’s a gospel so diluted of specificity that it ceases to be gospel at all.

From Paul’s first letter to his beloved church in Thessalonica we get a look at a third way to give people the gospel, one that goes beyond words and remains true to Jesus’s own witness. Referencing his ministry in Thessalonica, Paul remarks that he is “determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves.” Paul was not content to leave the church merely with sermons about Christ’s love, he wanted to show them that love.

During the holidays, believers want to give people the gospel more than ever; we want the world to sing along with the heavenly host that Jesus Christ has come to save. But for the message to cut through the noise, we need to take a page a page out of the apostle’s book. We need to give the world more than religiosity or moralism; we need to serve when we could be indulging, to help when we could be passive, to give when we could be receiving. We need, in Paul’s words, to give ourselves for others' sakes. What could be more Christ-like than that?

Ready to Go (Friday Devotional)

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast.

- Ephesians 2:8-9

Three hours—that’s how long it took Lindsey and I to pack on Saturday morning. Three hours of rolling up shirts, picking out picture books for the drive, selecting just the right stuffed animals, and making sure we grabbed all the necessary chargers. Three hours of coordinating outfits, rearranging the suitcase, and finally throwing everything in the trunk of our SUV. Three hours of packing, not for a transatlantic flight or a cross-country road trip, but for a 5-day stay in Waco.

And here’s the remarkable thing: the entire drive there, I kept worrying we’d forgotten something.

For many people, life is just a bigger version of that packing experience—you work and work, you think and plan, you do everything in your power to make sure you’re ready for whatever comes next. And yet even when you’ve over-prepared, even when you’ve said and done all the right things, you still feel like you’re missing something. You still worry you’ve forgotten something.

What makes the gospel such glorious news is that salvation isn’t the result of that kind of effortful, harried life. Salvation comes not by human works, but by grace through faith—it is not something you earn through hours of work and preparation; rather, it is something God gives freely to everyone who places their trust in Him.

In so much of life, we are convinced that only maximum effort and maximum achievement will get us what we want. Praise God that the greatest thing we could ever desire—eternal life—is not earned, but given.

Steadier than Texas Weather (Friday Devotional)

The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.

- Isaiah 40:8

When I left the house Monday morning, it was 40-something degrees and cloudy. I didn’t check the weather report before getting dressed and heading out the door, because I thought I knew what to expect: it would warm up to the mid-60s by the afternoon and the sun would likely come out. In my golf shirt and blue jeans, I thought I was set for the day.

So imagine my surprise when I stepped outside three hours later and was nearly bowled over by the rain, wind, and cold. In those three hours the temperature had dropped nearly twenty degrees, and the wind chill had already dipped below freezing. By the next morning, the “arctic front” would send temperatures plummeting well below those numbers, with a few school districts in Central Texas even delaying the start of Tuesday’s classes just to play it safe.

In Texas, we’re used to the weather changing on a dime (even if we sometimes fail to account for those sudden changes when we get dressed in the morning.) But no matter how long you live, none of us are ever truly prepared for the way life can change just as quickly. One announcement from the CEO, one missed stop sign, one chance meeting with a stranger—for better or for worse, a single moment can wind up turning your whole life upside down.

In a chaotic world, we look for stability, for something which remains steadfast even when our circumstances seem as variable as Texas weather. Some turn to strong people in their lives, those who seem to have it all together. Others turn to public figures who radiate confidence or wisdom. Still others think they’ll find a foundation in their careers and ambitions.

But ultimately, the only rock which is capable of withstanding life’s sudden storms is the word of God. For all the ways that life has changed over the centuries, for every revolution and new philosophy that’s come along, the gospel has endured. When you turn to the Lord, you find wisdom which stands the test of time, hope which doesn’t fade, and love which lasts forever. Life changes, sometimes far more suddenly than you’re prepared for. So place your trust in the one who is always faithful.

Grounded (Friday Devotional)

“Seek the Lord and His strength, seek His presence continually.”

- 1 Chronicles 16:11

Three days after the baby shower, the balloons were starting to look pretty pitiful.

Let me back up for a second. Last Saturday, Lindsey and I (well, really Lindsey, her mom, and her grandmommy) hosted a shower at our house for her cousin, who’s expecting her first child. The shower was by any measure a big success—everybody had a great time, we didn’t run out of food, and the mom-to-be walked away with plenty of gifts.

The trouble came when we started cleaning everything up, and our son told us he wanted to leave the decorative balloons up. We shrugged and thought, sure, what’s the harm? The next day, when we asked Andrew if he was ready to take them down now, he said he still liked them and wanted them to stay up. Same story the next day. But by Tuesday, the helium had passed its expiration date, and balloons that had once risen to the ceiling now lay limply on the floor.

So when Andrew came out of his room that morning and saw them on the ground, he cocked his head and asked why they weren’t in the air anymore. I explained to him that the balloons had been able to stay up because of something like called helium, and that the balloons were all out of it and would need to go in the trash now. Andrew looked even more confused by my explanation and my solution. His response: “They don’t need to go in the trash. They just need to be filled up again!”

We all feel like grounded balloons at times, brought down to earth by stress, sadness, and sin. Maybe there was once a time when you soared proudly, when it felt like God was with you in everything you did. But now you just feel weak, defeated, and alone, devoid of passion or purpose.

In such times, God assures us that what we need is not to consign ourselves to the trash can, but to seek His strength. When you come to Him continually—not just in crisis, but also in calm—and place your faith in Him, you find a comfort and a peace that cannot be found elsewhere. Life is difficult and has a way of bringing you low, but what Andrew said about the balloons is true in a spiritual sense for people too: you don’t belong in the trash. You just need to be filled up.