The Sickness of Sin (Friday Devotional)

“It is what comes out of a person that defiles. For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come: sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, debauchery, envy, slander, pride, folly. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”

- Mark 7:20-23

Two weeks ago, my son Andrew was unusually lethargic when we woke him up for school and was running a low-grade fever. With so many bugs running rampant, I took him to Urgent Care to see what was up and, after running the usual tests for strep, flu, and COVID, the doctor came back with a verdict: influenza A. We were instructed to keep him home from school for the rest of the week since that’s how long he would be contagious.

Here's the thing—after that first day, Andrew seemed to feel fine. He had plenty of energy, a normal appetite, and no discernible symptoms. Nevertheless, following doctor’s orders, we kept him home from school all week long. He watched waaaaay more TV than we would normally allow. He stayed in his pajamas all day. Being sick, he decided, was pretty great.

But then the following week, just when we were ready to send him back to school, his flu had some sort of a surge (or he came down with something else). Suddenly, we couldn’t keep his fever below 101 degrees for more than an hour or two. He didn’t want to eat anything. He was rarely awake for more than a couple hours at a time. Just like that, he decided it wasn’t so fun to be sick anymore.

It occurs to me that sin is a lot like my son’s experience with the flu. At first, yielding to temptation is often pretty satisfying—your flesh is gratified and any potential consequences seem to be a million miles away. But inevitably, after the binge comes the hangover—whether it happens immediately or years down the road, brokenness within leads to brokenness on the outside.

But here’s the good news: just as we were able to treat my son’s illness with medicine, there is a cure for the sickness of sin. Jesus died on the cross so that, by grace and through faith, we could be healed, so that sin would not have the final word. If you confess your sins, the Lord is faithful to forgive you and cleanse you, to make you new in him.

Our world excuses and glorifies sin, but all it takes is a little life experience to see that the juice isn’t worth the squeeze. Being sick isn’t fun—so come to Jesus and be healed.

Two Travelers and a Bear (Friday Devotional)

 

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

- Psalm 34:18

Aesop’s fable of “Two Travelers and a Bear” tells the story of two friends who were walking through a forest when suddenly, a large bear appeared on the path. Terrified, one of the men quickly climbed a tree and hid, leaving the other behind. The second traveler, who could not climb, fell to the ground and played dead, knowing that bears do not attack lifeless bodies.

The bear came close, sniffed him, and then walked away, believing him to be dead. When the bear was gone, the first traveler climbed down and laughed nervously, asking, "What did the bear whisper in your ear?"

The second traveler replied, "It told me never to trust a friend who abandons you in danger."

In difficult times, you quickly learn which people in your life will stand by your side and who will scamper to safety. Sadly, there may even be times when, like that second traveler, you feel entirely alone in your stress, doubt, grief, or pain.

But the Bible reminds us that, even in the depths of despair, the Lord remains by your side. When you are at your lowest point, where none but those closest to you dare to follow, God is still with you. He never leaves his children, and his grace gives you sustaining power when your own strength is gone.

Sometimes life throws a bear at you, and sometimes all you know to do is play dead. But even when others forsake you, the Lord never will. He is near to the brokenhearted, and he stands ready to raise you up.

Do the Next Right Thing (Friday Devotional)

But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him.

- Luke 10:33-34

The TV was blaring. Katherine was sobbing. Isaac was fussing. Andrew, transfixed by the TV, was oblivious. And there was water everywhere.

It was Super Bowl Sunday, and my family had made it through the first half, rejoicing at the extravagance of snacks for dinner and extra screen time. Even baby Isaac, who hadn’t been feeling his best for days, was in relatively good spirits, especially if he was snuggled up against his mom. But as the halftime show began, Lindsey asked where her water bottle—one of the giant plastic cups they give you at the hospital—was. And as I reached down to grab it, my eyes got big: instead of sitting upright, it was knocked over on its side. And the liter of water it had held was all over the floor, seeping into the pile of toys in the corner of the room and spreading under the couch.

Lindsey and I leapt to our feet, startling the kids. She ran to grab towels, and I stood there frozen for a second. The couch needed to be pulled out. The toys needed to be picked up and set aside to dry. We needed to see if anything had been ruined beyond repair. And the water, of course, needed to be mopped up. But with this giant mess before me, what was I supposed to do first?

Sometimes the crisis is so big, so overwhelming, that you don’t know where to start. Your brain gets overwhelmed by all the different things that need to happen, by the desire for a plan, by the fear of what will happen if your solution is the wrong solution. And so you just freeze in place, waiting for the problem to solve itself.

There’s an expression that’s become common over the last few years—to the point that a song in Disney’s Frozen 2 has it as its title—which I really like: do the next right thing. Instead of waiting for a roadmap of the most efficient path to victory, take care of what’s immediately in front of you. Instead of trying to map out the perfect future, deal with the present. Do the next right thing.

In Jesus’ famous parable, when a man was beaten and lying by the side of the road, there were two men who failed to do that. Some have speculated that their lack of aid was motivated by devotion to purity laws—on their way to worship at the temple, they couldn’t risk contaminating themselves by touching a body which might die at any moment. Others say they were too busy to stop, late for an appointment in Jerusalem. Still others think they were worried the bandits who had beaten this man might be nearby. Whatever the case, they talked themselves out of helping.

But the so-called “good Samaritan,” who may well have had some of these same concerns, stopped. He approached the man. He bound his wounds with oil and wine and whatever strips of cloth he had handy. He set him on his own animal. He took him to a nearby inn. And upon arriving there, he made arrangements for the man to stay as long as his needs dictated.

Did the Samaritan have all these steps plotted out the second he spotted the injured man? Did he wait until a master plan presented itself before acting? I doubt it. He simply went to work, and step by step, he did the next right thing.

In a complicated world, it’s easy to get overwhelmed, and to think you need a foolproof strategy before you can make a difference. But in whatever ways you can—the ways you come up with and the ones which present themselves—don’t be afraid to be a helper. Don’t be paralyzed by the scale of the mess—just do the next right thing.

Holding His Hand (Friday Devotional)

 

When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.

- Psalm 56:3

Last Saturday, my family and I spent some time at White Rock Lake enjoying the sunny day. We went for a walk, threw the football around, and finally, wound up at the playground.

The big kids knew what to do, as you might expect of a 5- and 8-year-old. But Isaac, our 1-year-old, was a little more tentative on the playground equipment, especially the slide. He would eagerly crawl up to it, smile on his face, look down…and then turn around and crawl away from the edge. He did this several times, each time getting a little further out, but never far enough to take the plunge. Finally, we held one of his hands—and then and only then did he have the courage to go down the slide.

It occurs to me that we never fully grow out of that behavior pattern—part of the way we deal with fear is by drawing on the strength of others. Whether you’re afraid of heights, air travel, or the monster hiding under your bed, the way you conquer your fears is by holding somebody’s hand and trusting them to get you through it.

In the Bible, we see countless examples of God’s people facing frightening situations, from Moses in Egypt to Paul in prison. Again and again, we see these biblical heroes endure—not because they relied on their own inner strength, but because they leaned on God’s. When they were looking over the edge, unsure they could continue, they reached out to the Lord and grabbed his hand.

When fear and anxiety grip you today, you can do the same thing they did. God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind. He promises never to leave you or forsake you. So don’t let the doubts of the day overcome your faith in the one who holds tomorrow—just reach out and grab his hand.

January Reading Log

This is going to be a weird year for this log, I can already tell. Thanks to several of my 2025 New Year's resolutions, I'm currently reading 8 books according to Goodreads, most of which I'll still be plowing through well into the spring. My reading each day is less "read one book for an hour" and more "read 5 books for 10 minutes apiece."

Nevertheless, I managed to finish off six books in January. Take a look!

I WILL by Thom S. Rainer

This book's chapters are serving as the outline for my current sermon series (I gifted a copy of the book to every family in the congregation). Each chapter is a different call to commitment for church members, with topics like "I Will Worship," "I Will Serve," "I Will Give," etc. The idea is for the book to encourage its readers to abandon a consumerist, me-me-me understanding of church in favor of one where they are looking for ways to better serve the Lord and his kingdom.

Like most Thom Rainer books, this is a concise, snappy little book that still manages to pack a punch. For my pastor friends, it's not necessarily breaking a lot of new ground, but it would get the attention of most church members. A good resource, and one my members seemed happy to receive (of the 50 copies I purchased for the church, only 1 is left!)

THE CHURCH REVITALIZATION CHECKLIST by Sam Rainer

I read this book as part of my cohort with PAVE, Texas Baptists' ministry for church health and revitalization. As the name suggests, it's something of a how-to guide for revitalization, from figuring out where your church stands to getting where you need to go.

It's a little more technical than the kinds of books Sam Rainer's dad Thom writes—this isn't a literal manual by any means, but neither is it as reader-friendly as I Will. With that being said, this is a useful resource for pastors, and Sam Rainer manages to toe his dad's company line while also offering some insights of his own. Furthermore, he is currently a pastor himself, so he has some boots-on-the-ground experience that his consultant father does not. This book is a helpful guide for church revitalization, if not necessarily the Holy Grail its title makes it out to be.

LETTER FROM BIRMINGHAM JAIL by Martin Luther King, Jr.

My review from January 2023:

I make a point to read this American epistle every MLK Day, and this year was no exception. Addressed to a collection of white, moderate pastors who were concerned with Dr. King's protest-centered approach to social change, its central theme can be summarized by its most famous quote: "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

Drawing from Scripture, American history, and outright common sense, King systematically dismantles the concerns of his fellow pastors, showing how both his faith and his heritage demand that he remain outspoken on the subject of civil rights, and how the methodology of the movement is not only effective, but moral. Furthermore, King respectfully but forcefully decries the caution of his fellow pastors, convincingly arguing that there are times when God calls his children to boldness, not moderation.

For someone who proudly identifies as a moderate on social and political issues, Letter from Birmingham Jail challenges me on an annual basis. I consider it to be right up there with the Gettysburg Address among the greatest works of American political writing—if you've never taken the time to read it in its entirety, do it now.

MATILDA by Roald Dahl

I had been putting this one off as me, Andrew, and Katherine made our way through the works of Roald Dahl, worried that its antagonist would be too scary for Katherine. But Andrew wore me down—I'd made the mistake of telling him that this was one of my favorites—and we gave it a try in January.

It was a roaring success, because Matilda remains an amazing children's book.

For those who never had the pleasure to read this book or see the 1996 movie (or, for that matter, the musical whose filmed adaptation hit Netflix in 2022), Matilda is the story of a gifted little girl who learns that her unusual brainpower not only enables her to read the collected works of Charles Dickens before kindergarten, but also gives her the telekinetic ability to move objects with her mind. When she starts school and runs afoul of the vile headmaster Mrs. Trunchbull, it's only a matter of time before she has to figure out how to use her powers to take on the brutish principal.

While most critics consider Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to be Roald Dahl's best book, Matilda was always my favorite as a child, and that was only reinforced after reading it to my kids. Maybe it's the protagonist, a sweet child who loves books. Maybe it's the villainous Trunchbull, a frightening caricature of every child's fears about authority figures. Maybe it's the tightness of the story—like Charlie, this one has no wasted chapters.

Whatever it is, me and the kids loved reading through Matilda this January. I can't recommend this book highly enough.

THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING by J.R.R. Tolkien

I first read The Lord of the Rings in middle school, when the films were coming out one by one every December from 2001-2003. At the time, I thought it was a transcendent fantasy masterpiece, on another level from any other book in the genre. But as time went by, that reputation crystallized so much that I was a little worried to pick it up and reread it. What if, as a grown-up, I didn't like it anymore?

Nevertheless, I decided to plunge back into the waters of Middle Earth at the beginning of this year, reading about a chapter a day of The Fellowship of the Ring. And thankfully, that world was as comfortable and familiar as a warm blanket, and as much of a joy as I remembered.

For those who've been living under a rock, The Lord of the Rings is the story of a hobbit named Frodo who, having been entrusted with a magical, sinister golden ring, must journey to the fearsome Mount Doom to cast it into the fire from which it was forged. Journeying with him is a crew including other hobbits, a wizard, two men, an elf, and a dwarf. The Fellowship of the Ring, the first two books of six, sets up the story and sees the formation and dissolution of the group.

J.R.R. Tolkien, an Oxford philologist by trade, intricately created the world of Middle Earth before he wrote this story, and it shows. The book is filled with songs and legends that don't tie directly into the story, but which nevertheless give the world depth. Before "world building" was a thing, Tolkien was doing it.

That love for the world, however, is what makes the book occasionally feel like a slog—Tolkien offers a lot of descriptions of Middle Earth's natural features, and never met an Elven name he didn't want to put to paper. But these are minor quibbles, not true criticisms. The Lord of the Rings, starting with this book, is a classic for a reason. I'll try to finish it next month!

ESSENTIAL X-MEN VOL. 7 by  Chris Claremont, Marc Silvestri, Jon Bogdanove, Alan Davis, Barry Windsor-Smith, et al.

Following the Mutant Massacre, when a group of serial killers laid waste to the Morlocks and severely injured several X-Men along the way, the team simultaneously seems to be running in place and rapidly changing. On the one hand, the roster is almost unrecognizable to the casual fan—Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Shadowcat are all sidelined by injury; Storm is still team leader but powerless; and the original X-Men (Cyclops, Jean Grey, Beast, Angel, and Iceman) are their own team in X-Factor. This leaves only Wolverine and Rogue as familiar faces on a team otherwise occupied by newbies like Psylocke, Dazzler, and Longshot.

Despite all this turnover, however, the book seems a bit aimless during this volume. There are a lot of side quests, like when Dazzler foolishly takes on Juggernaut singlehanded and when Storm goes searching for Forge to regain her powers. What's missing is the propulsiveness that writer Chris Claremont once specialized in. Thankfully, that page does seem turned in the final story of this volume, "The Fall of the Mutants," which starts the so-called "Outback Era"—the X-Men are believed dead by the world, Storm's powers are back, and they establish a new base of operations in Australia, where they work in secret.

The highlight of this volume is the arrival of Marc Silvestri on art, whose exaggerated, sketchy style would define the book until Jim Lee ultimately surpassed him in the early 1990s. All in all, this is an entertaining enough collection, but mostly picks up the pieces from volume 6 and sets the table for volume 8.