February Reading Log

 

February is the shortest month of the year, with a mere 28 days to read books. But I did my best! Take a look below to see what I spent the last 4 weeks working on.

PAUL: A BIOGRAPHY by N.T. Wright

Theologian N.T. Wright made a name for himself in the late 20th century as the most visible voice of the so-called "New Perspective on Paul," which argued that our understanding of the apostle and his letters has been overly influenced by the medieval excesses of Roman Catholicism and the subsequent reforms of Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, et al. Properly understood, says Wright, Paul must be understood foremost as a Jew who saw Jesus as the fulfillment of God's covenant with Israel—in Christ, Wright argues, God wasn't starting a new religion, but simply being faithful to the covenant that had come before and opening its blessings to all the world.

Having spent decades explaining this perspective in books, articles, sermon, and lectures, Wright now does so with an accessible biography of the apostle, one that seeks to explain chronologically the events of Paul's life and how they affected the content of his letters. As such, the book is trying to do several things at once.

Most obviously, it seeks to be a straight biography—a difficult task given how relatively little information we have to go on! Working from Paul's letters, the Book of Acts, and extrabiblical information about the 1st century world, Wright puts forth his theories about how Paul's life progressed from being a young, zealous Pharisee to his "conversion" (not Wright's favorite word, given its connotations that Saul the Jew became Paul the Christian) to his missionary journeys and writings. There are understandably some assumptions and inferences that must be made as part of this project, but Wright is always careful to qualify and explain the reasoning behind them.

Secondarily, the book is a textbook on the letters of Paul. Much of the second half of the book, for obvious reasons, consists of Wright summarizing and providing context for the contents of Paul's epistles. This is a worthy endeavor, obviously, but at times it's indistinguishable from a New Testament survey textbook or a biblical commentary. As someone who spends a lot of time in such reference books, I sometimes skimmed these passages more than I read them.

Finally, this book is another argument for the new (or, by now, not-so-new) perspective on Paul. Having written extensively about how certain key books and passages work within this perspective, this book is Wright's chance to do so at a more macro level, while also theorizing how key events in Paul's might be better understood through this perspective.

I didn't find this as compelling as some of Wright's other popular level books—and indeed, if you're familar with Wright, much of what's contained here is understandably rehashing previous works—but it's a worthy read nonetheless. Especially when operating as straight biography, this is a helpful resource for better understanding the apostle who wrote most of the New Testament. 

CLOUD CUCKOO LAND by Anthony Doerr

In his breakout novel, All The Light We Cannot See, Anthony Doerr dazzled readers—myself included—with a historical epic told from multiple perspectives, all of which ultimately converged. With Cloud Cuckoo Land, he takes things one step further, not only by offering more characters, but by telling a story that spans centuries. Part historical fiction, part thriller, part science fiction, this book is doing a LOT all at once.

The connective thread of the story is the fictional book Cloud Cuckoo Land, written by the real Greek philosopher Diogenes. In 15th century Constantinople, a girl named Anna finds a copy of this book even as the city is being beseiged, including by Omeir, a boy conscripted into the sultan's army. In present-day Idaho, the book is set to be performed as a play, directed by the elderly Zeno Ninis, when the library where it is being prepared is taken hostage by a troubled teenager named Seymour. And in the 22nd century, Konstance, a young girl aboard the space ark Argos, discovers the book in the ship's virtual library, leading her to ask questions about her voyage.

If you're wondering how those disparate pieces could possibly relate to each other, welcome to my thought process for the first 300+ pages of this book. But sure enough, Doerr pulls it off in the end, rewarding readers' patience with a story that is ultimately about the preservation of stories.

This novel is more ambitious but less enjoyable than All the Light We Cannot See, owing mostly to the natural problem for a book with multiple POVs: some of the characters are more interesting than others. For my part, the Anna and Omeir chapters were considerably duller than the others, and the Konstance chapters were difficult to follow at times. Nevertheless, by the time I got to the payoff of the last 100 pages, my rating for this had gone from 3 stars to 4. Readers willing to stick it out the end will be glad they did.

QUEST IN YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK by Aaron Johnson

With the conclusion of this book, two of my kids and I have now made it halfway through the National Park Mystery Series (and are caught up, as author Aaron Johnson is currently writing the sixth). This was a good place to go on hiatus, as it was my favorite one so far.

As the title indicates, this entry takes Jake, Amber, and Wes to Yosemite National Park, where they continue on the scavenger hunt for ancient treasure laid out by Jake's late grandfather, a prize that sinister, enigmatic foes are also pursuing. As usual with these books, there are lots of facts about the National Parks System, conservation, and safety; additionally, there are corny jokes, riddles, and YA relational dynamics.

Two things made this book stand out for me as the best so far. The first is my own familiarity with Yosemite, a park which Lindsey and I visited several years ago. The second was a "side quest" of sorts within the story, in which the three heroes helped park rangers track down a missing child in the park. The kids and I were unanimous that this B story actually intrigued us more than the central plot, and the stakes felt higher.

It'll be a while before we read any more books in this series—according to his website, Aaron Johnson isn't very far into writing the sixth book—but we've certainly enjoyed them up to this point. Let me know if you want to borrow any of the first five!

ESSENTIAL IRON MAN VOL. 4-5

Let's just say it: the 1970s was a weird time to be telling stories about Iron Man. He'd been created in the Kennedy days of Cold War patriotism, when being a symbol of the military-industrial complex was a boon rather than a liability. But post-Vietnam, he seemed dated at best and problematic at worst, a cool costume in search of an enduring character. Beginning in the late 1970s and continuing into Ronald Reagan's 1980s, when consumerism and Commie-bashing became cool again, writer David Micheline and artist Bob Layton would finally give Tony Stark some shine and give readers an Iron Man title they could love.

Unfortunately, Essential Iron Man Vol. 4-5, covers the character's title from 1971-1976. So these books contain 50+ issues of grasping at straws, trying to make the armored Avenger cool. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

First there is Tony Stark's decision to renounce his industrialist ways and pivot to ecological research, a well-intentioned but clumsy overcorrection. Then there is the introduction and shuffling off of a host of supporting characters, none of whom managed to connect with readers. Most infamously, there is the redesign of the Iron Man mask, giving him a triangular nose that evokes The Wizard of Oz's Tin Man.

All of it is just throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks, and none of it ultimately does. This era can be thought of as years in the wilderness—full of movement, but absent any direction. Far from essential reading for anyone who is not a completist.

Simple Solidarity (Friday Devotional)

 

Now when Job’s three friends heard of all these troubles that had come upon him, each of them set out from his home—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They met together to go and console and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads. They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.

- Job 2:11-13

The other day, my daughter Katherine was very loudly having a hard time. I don’t remember exactly what the problem was, but I do know it was a catastrophe to her 6-year-old heart, and she was not exactly suffering in silence.

Isaac, our 2-year-old, curiously poked his head in the room to see what all the commotion was about and, with wide eyes, looked at me and Lindsey and said, “Kaka crying!” We affirmed what he was saying and then turned our attention back to Katherine as Isaac left the room.

But then a few seconds later, he reemerged with something in his hand. Gingerly, he walked towards Katherine and set a handful of Corn Pops cereal at her feet as she sobbed. Then, silently, he scooted back and sat down.

That little gesture got me thinking about how we comfort people—or fail to comfort them—as grownups. Sometimes when we see someone hurting, we feel powerless to help them unless we have the tools to solve their problem. If we don’t have the cure for their disease or the money to resolve their debt or the perfect words to comfort them, we often do one of two things: we fall back on trite clichés or, paralyzed by indecision, we do nothing at all.

But I’m reminded of the story of Job, who had every blessing stripped from him and was left with nothing but his life. Eventually, his closest friends would lean on faulty theology to try and explain what he must have done wrong to deserve such a fate. But at first, their reaction was a good one: they simply sat with him in silence. No explanations, no fixes, no words at all—just simple solidarity.

A handful of Corn Pops never solved anybody’s problems. Sitting in silence never took away someone’s pain. But when you show someone you care in little ways—ways that, to you, may feel inconsequential—you are acting as a comfort and an encouragement to someone who feels alone in their trouble.

So when you see somebody hurting, don’t assume that because you can’t do everything, you should do nothing. Send the text message. Offer the hug. Bring over the cup of coffee. And when you don’t know what to say, just listen. You’ll be amazed by how powerful and how godly simple acts of kindness can be.

What's in a Name? (Friday Devotional)

 

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine.”

- Isaiah 43:1b

I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that the name Reginald Kenneth Dwight doesn’t mean anything to you. The same goes for David Robert Jones, Caryn Johnson, and Dana Elaine Owens. But I imagine you do know those people by these names: Elton John, David Bowie, Whoopi Goldberg, and Queen Latifah.

You see these kinds of name changes from time to time, especially in entertainment circles. In order to stand out, a person will trade their birth name for something more memorable. After all, nobody cares much about Samuel Clemens’ works—but everybody knows Mark Twain!

Similarly, the Bible is full of characters who were born with one name, but became better known by another. More often than not, their name changes were about more than preference; they symbolized a new, God-given identity.

Abram became Abraham, meaning “father of many nations,” when God made a covenant with him. Jacob, after a wrestling match with a divine being, became Israel, “one who struggles with God.” Simon the fisherman became Peter the apostle when Jesus declared that his profession of faith would be the rock upon which the church would be built. And Saul, a zealous Pharisee, began to use his Roman name, Paul, when the Holy Spirit made evident that his ministry would be primarily to Gentiles.

Nowadays, first names are often based on things like family history and how they sound alongside the surname—the etymological meaning behind your name is often more trivial than intentional. But if the Lord changed your name, who might you become? What are you prioritizing, and what is the message your life conveys? How might your identity be summarized in one word?

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” Shakespeare wrote. What kind of witness does your name have?

Racing Headfirst (Friday Devotional)

 

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.

- Matthew 28:19-20

For the past week, the eyes of the world have turned to Milan, where athletes from 93 countries are competing in the Winter Olympics. From the dazzling triple axels of the figure skaters to the eye-popping ski jumps to the baffling rules of curling, there’s something for everyone to watch.

One of my favorites to tune in for is skeleton, which has been a permanent fixture at the Winter Olympics since 2002. Comparable to luge and bobsled, this sport demands each participant ride a small, flat sled headfirst down a frozen track after getting a running start. Riders plunge down the track at speeds exceeding 80 mph, using only their bodies to direct the twists and turns. While slower than luge or bobsled, skeleton has always seemed the scariest of the three sliding sports to me for two reasons: the complete lack of protection the sled gives you and the direction you are facing. There’s something truly terrifying about going that fast headfirst!

Not only is that image a scary one, it seems metaphorical as well—sometimes life feels like a skeleton race. Things come at you fast, dangerously fast. It feels like you’re all on your own, with no teammates or protection if you crash. And you’re watching it all with wide eyes as you hurtle through life headfirst.

But for believers, there is comfort in knowing that these insecurities are grounded in fear, not reality. For those who know Jesus, life is not a solo sport, but one in which God is with you always. You are not without protection, but are in fact empowered by the Holy Spirit. And far from being a helpless passenger hurtling through life, you are given purpose and a mission by the Lord: to proclaim the gospel in word and deed.

Life can be scary sometimes, but what a comfort to know that God has given us what we need to persevere in his name. So carry on today, knowing that your “gold medal” awaits in eternity!

Pursuing Virtue (Friday Devotional)

Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life and honor.

- Proverbs 21:21

Every day at my house, my family turns into a search party. Maybe we’re after a water bottle. Could be a sock that’s missing its mate. Perhaps a book or a jacket or a cell phone. Whatever the case, all five of us find ourselves ransacking the house trying to track down what’s lost. In a family of five, something is always missing—and it’s up to us to find it.

The proverb above describes a different sort of pursuit—not of a tangible item, but of virtues. In Solomon’s day, as in ours, righteousness and kindness were hard to come by. Our world is not a place where justice or mercy are naturally found; especially when you’re vulnerable or marginalized, expectations are that things are going to get worse for you, not better. As a result, the cynical person learns to live by the law of the jungle instead of the law of love, looking out solely for themselves and doing whatever is necessary to get ahead.

But Scripture compels believers to follow the way of the Lord, pursuing what is good even when the benefits of doing so are not readily apparent. When the cultural expectation is vengeance, Jesus commands us to forgive. When the flesh compels you to hurt someone, the Spirit calls you to heal them. When the world tells you to take what’s yours, the cross points you to sacrifice.

Christian virtues can be hard to find these days. But when you pursue them, then in Christ you will find the kind of life and honor the world could never hope to offer.

January Reading Log

Whew. I read a lot of books this month.

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

                     

           

A WRINKLE IN TIME by Madeleine L'Engle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AMERICAN GOSPEL by Jon Meacham

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

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

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

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

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

EVERY DAY I READ by Hwang Bo-Reum

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

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

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

         

HEARTSTOPPER VOL. 1-4 by Alice Oseman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Help for the Helpless (Friday Devotional)

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

- Galatians 6:9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pace vs. Peace (Friday Devotional)

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

- Matthew 11:28

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

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

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

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

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

Keep The Lights On (Friday Devotional)

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

- Matthew 5:15-16

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newness and Nostalgia (Friday Devotional)

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

- 2 Corinthians 5:17

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making Things New (Friday Devotional)

 

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

- Revelation 21:5

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Resolutions for 2026

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

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

1. Get in shape.

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

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

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

2. Listen to 300 albums.

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

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

3. Go on one long walk per week.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seems like a resolution worth making.

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

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

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

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

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

6. Wear my mouthguard. 

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

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

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

7. Read 6 big books.

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

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

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

8. Get my finances in order.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10. Be more joyful.

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

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

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