Is this the shortest reading log I've ever published? Maybe! Blame youth camp, a family beach trip, a reading slump, and several long books (one of which I finished, two of which I'm still working on). Enjoy reading this, it won't take you long!
Thursday, July 31, 2025
July Reading Log
Friday, July 25, 2025
Quiet Faithfulness (Friday Devotional)
So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
- Matthew 6:2
After dinner a few nights ago, my son Isaac climbed up on the dining room table, where a half-finished jigsaw puzzle was assembled. As you might expect from a toddler, he then started grabbing individual puzzle pieces and throwing them on the ground. By the time we stopped him, the floor was littered with 50 or so puzzle pieces.
The damage already done, we decided to make cleanup a learning experience, showing Isaac how to pick up the pieces and then telling him to do as we had done. He was hesitant at first, but when he successfully mimicked us—picking up a piece and putting it in the box—everybody in the room cheered and clapped. He burst into a big smile, then did it again, to more applause. Every time he did what he was supposed to, he was rewarded with praise.
While perhaps not taken to that extreme—expecting applause every time you do the right thing—we never fully outgrow that desire to be recognized for our good works. In Jesus’ day, there was a particular group, the scribes and Pharisees, who loved to parade their religiosity before the people. When they prayed and fasted and gave to the poor, they made a show of it, wanting to be sure everybody saw what righteous people they were.
But Jesus calls his disciples to a different posture—not to showy religiosity, but to quiet faithfulness. Instead of practicing righteousness for earthly rewards like recognition, the Lord points us toward the integrity of doing what is right even when nobody notices.
It can be tough to abandon that childlike need for praise, to be comfortable serving the Lord even when your work goes unnoticed. But be assured that the Lord sees even when others don’t—and while you may lose out on the earthly reward of applause, you can look forward to heavenly reward.
Friday, July 18, 2025
Deep Calls to Deep (Friday Devotional)
Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your torrents; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.
- Psalm 42:7-8
With summer break winding down, my family spent a couple days at the beach at the beginning of this week—no sightseeing, no plans, just two days in the sand and the water soaking up the sun. Everybody has their own favorite activity at the beach—Katherine likes playing in the sand, Andrew likes the pool, etc. Personally, my favorite thing to do is to swim out deep enough that my feet can no longer touch the sand beneath me and to just bob up and down in the water, letting the waves break over and around me. There’s something oddly peaceful about the repetition of those waves, each one a little different than the one before it, yet all coming in a steady, unceasing rhythm.
Life can feel those waves, constantly crashing into you without a break. Its stresses and anxieties can feel endless, routine only in the sense that they never stop. That’s the situation the psalmist describes at the beginning of Psalm 47, when he describes his soul thirsting for God the way a deer pants for water. “Why,” he asks, “are you cast down, o my soul, and why are you disquieted within me?”
But just as life’s rollers and breakers never seem to cease, neither does God’s mercy. “Deep calls to deep,” the psalmist says. God responds to your cries with his presence. When you pray to him, those prayers do not vanish into the wind; they rise to heaven. God hears you, he cares, and he responds.
Believers often compare the slings and arrows of life to a storm, the kind of wind and waves that Jesus and his disciples faced on the Sea of Galilee. But know this—as powerful as those trials may be, they cannot compare to the power of the Lord. Cry out to him today and find his mercy.
Friday, July 11, 2025
Your Worst Day Ever (Friday Devotional)
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
- Psalm 34:18
“THIS IS MY WORST DAY EVER!!!!”
Lately that’s become something of a refrain for one of my kids (I won’t disclose which one in case they read this somewhere down the road). When things don’t go their way—whether it’s because we say no to chocolate milk or because we tell them it’s time to practice piano or because they get scolded for misbehaving—we can count on that exclamation, sometimes accompanied by the slam of a door. THIS, we are assured, is the worst day ever.
As adults, we have a little more perspective in those kinds of moments. Hurt feelings really do hurt and disappointments really do disappoint, but we know better than to believe those kinds of moments are rock bottom. Life has a way of showing you what true tragedy looks like—your real worst day ever inevitably arrives someday, and you probably know it when it comes.
The good news is that when it does, you don’t face it alone. The Bible promises us that our God is not distant and removed from our pain, but rather that he sits with us in it. Indeed, the life and death of Jesus is the ultimate proof of how divine love functions—the Lord is not “God beyond us”, but “God with us.” He is the baby laid in a humble manger, the friend who weeps at Lazarus’ tomb, the Savior who suffers and dies for our sins.
For both the pouting child in my home and the devastated parent in the Hill Country, God is near, not far. And when you come to your own worst day ever, be assured that he will not leave your side.
Friday, July 4, 2025
God and Country (Friday Devotional)
But
you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy
nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of
him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.
- 1 Peter 2:9
Today we honor the 249th birthday of the United States, celebrating our national independence with fireworks and parades and all sorts of revelry. It’s a day when Americans of all stripes take pride in our country, giving thanks to God for the freedoms we enjoy. We say the pledge of allegiance, we sing the national anthem, and we salute the flag.
And for believers in Jesus Christ, we do all this even as we remember something important: our primary citizenship is not in this country, but in heaven. In talking about the Lord’s church, the Bible describes us as “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation”—terms which once exclusively described Israel and now refer to all who profess faith in Jesus. With those words, Scripture reframes our understanding of belonging and identity.
The New Testament makes clear that, while we have secondary allegiances—to family, to workplace, to nation—our primary allegiance is to our Savior. We serve our communities, but first we serve our God. We pay honor to those in authority, just as the apostles command, but we worship our Lord.
We
have much to be thankful for as Americans—first and foremost that freedom of
religious expression is a constitutional guaranteed right. So as we celebrate
our national heritage today, may we do so with our spiritual heritage top of
mind. Love for country is worthwhile—and love for God is supreme.
Tuesday, July 1, 2025
June Reading Log
As I post this, I'm at youth camp, but the log waits for no one (plus I finished writing it on Saturday). Here's what was on the docket for the month of June!
RISE by Carly Parkinson with Nancy Scammacca Lewis
If you've been reading these logs for a while, you'll know that I'm picky when it comes to church health/growth books. A well-written book in this genre is a blend of the spiritual and the practical, incorporating both biblical principles and modern applications of those principles. Some miss the mark by veering too far in the spiritual direction, offering a sermon that inspires but leaves you with little in the way of pragmatic strategies. Others lean too far the other way, offering lots of corporate jargon, charts, and marketplace techniques, but doing so to the point that you wonder if the authors remember that a church is different from a business.
Rise, unfortunately, falls into that latter bucket, to the point that I almost DNF'ed it. The bulk of the book is chapters looking at different church archetypes, from the "troubled church" all the way to the "vibrant church," analyzing how churches get to where they are, what pros and cons exist in each archetype, and how to then get where they need to be. For a researcher this is probably fascinating, but for a pastor looking for a hand, I quickly identified the archetype that matched my church and then found reading about the others to be largely a waste of my time.
The last 40 pages or so offer the strategies promised in the book's subtitle, several of which, unfortunately, seem to be more about selling particular programs than anything else. What's more, these strategies commit the cardinal sin of church growth books: assuming every church has the resources and structure of a megachurch, when in fact few pastors reading a church growth book are in that situation.
As you've probably gathered, this is not a book I plan to keep on my shelf for long. I appreciate the research done by the authors, but just didn't find the conclusions satisfying.
I HOPE THIS FINDS YOU WELL by Kate Baer
Following last month's review of The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats, when I declared that "I still don't get poetry," my friend Kelley showed up to church the next Sunday with two books in hand, confident that the problem is neither me nor poetry in general, just my selection. And so far, maybe she's on to something!
I Hope This Finds You Well is a slim, clever collection of erasure poetry, in which the poet takes a selection of found text, then removes words, leaving behind the remaining words to form a new poem. In this case, Kate Baer takes as her initial text the comments left on her blog—most critical, a few complimentary, all personal—and transforms them into beautiful words of affirmation, especially for women. The result is poetry that takes the ugliness of the Internet and redeems it into something uplifting. Recommended, unless you're prone to tell feminist authors why they're wrong online.
FOREVER WORDS by Johnny Cash
'SALEM'S LOT by Stephen King
Hot on the heels of his debut novel Carrie, 1975's 'Salem's Lot was Stephen King's foray into a more traditional horror story. It tells the story of a small New England town—this is Stephen King, after all—which is infested by vampires and about the small group of brave townspeople who take them on. Borrowing heavily from Dracula—both Bram Stoker's novel and the subsequent film adaptations—the novel starts slow, steadily builds up steam, then erupts into a final 100 pages of nearly nonstop action.
While beloved by King fans, who often put this book in their top 10 of the author's works, I kind of had a hard time sticking with this one. It's hard to put my finger on the reason why, and it may have had more to do with my busy month than the book itself, but I wasn't sucked into this novel the way I was with Carrie, Misery, and other King classics. For me, this was a perfectly serviceable horror story, but one I wasn't sad to finish. It's also, incidentally, the first of King's novels to deserve the oft-level criticism that he's not good at writing endings.
I have yet to read any bad Stephen King books, and I know they're out there, but so far I would put this in the bottom half of what I've read. You've got to read it if you love King, but don't expect it to be your favorite.
CIVILWARLAND IN BAD DECLINE by George Saunders
ULTIMATE FANTASTIC FOUR VOL. 1-11 by Mark Millar, Warren Ellis, Mike Carey, Adam Kubert, Greg Land, Pasqual Ferry, et al.
In 2000, Marvel debuted Ultimate Spider-Man, a reimagined, modern take on their most popular character, which sought to keep all the core elements of the character but without the burden of 40 years of continuity. Ultimate Spider-Man—and subsequent versions of the X-Men, Avengers ("Ultimates" in this universe), etc.—aimed to bring in new readers by shaking off the dust of characters who had started to feel, well, old. The trick was to match the original characters' ethos while updating it for the 21st century.
Ultimate Fantastic Four, unfortunately, failed to do that. The FF has always been about family, with Reed and Sue acting as mom and dad, Ben and Johnny as the lovable uncles, and eventually Franklin and Valeria as the bright young kids. Secondarily, it's about wacky science fiction adventures, superheroes as "imaginauts," to borrow Mark Waid's memorable term.
The Ultimate version of the characters manages to get this secondary theme, with the team traveling to the so-called "N-Zone" (an alternate dimension known as the Negative Zone in Marvel's primary universe), being visited by zombie versions of themselves from another world, and fighting off alien invaders that include Ultimate Thanos. The heroes themselves are part of a think tank for young prodigies, and the accident that gave them their powers, it is explained, is actually stretching Reed's brain in such a way that he is literally getting smarter every day. So if all you want is superheroes with a heaping spoonful of science fiction, Ultimate Fantastic Four has you covered.
But the book's core mistake—which was then borrowed in the universally reviled 2015 Fantastic Four film—is in making all the characters young adults. Instead of being parents, here Reed and Sue have just started dating. Instead of feeling like close friends and family with decades of history, here the four feel like the more traditional superhero team forced together by circumstance. And instead of the rivalry between Reed and former labmate Victor Van Damme—the Ultimate universe's Doctor Doom— carrying the weight of decades of stories, it feels more like an immature grudge match.
The Ultimate Universe was all about putting a fresh coat of paint on characters weighed down by the baggage of their history. But the problem is, the Fantastic Four are Marvel's First Family—their history is what makes them appealing. So in this case, reinventing the wheel winds up making it worse. Ultimate Fantastic Four, which continued until the entire Ultimate universe met an ignominious end, was one of the line's misfires—it's not bad, but it's not right.