Westminster Books has a collection of deals on new and noteworthy books. Meanwhile, there are some new Kindle deals to look at as well.

(Yesterday on the blog: Seven Steps To a Good Breakup)
The Indispensable Ministry of Disability
Andrea explains that “people with disabilities in our congregations are not just objects of ministry. They are gifted just like the rest of us, though often in ways that we haven’t realized.”
Death to the Patriarchy? Complementarity and the Scandal of ‘Father Rule’
Kevin DeYoung: “There is nothing to be gained by Christians reclaiming the term patriarchy in itself. In fact, reclaim is not even the right word, because I’m not sure Christians have ever argued for something called ‘patriarchy.’ Complementarity is a better, safer term, with fewer negative connotations (though that is quickly changing). I’ve described myself as a complementarian hundreds of times; I’ve never called myself a patriarchalist.”
Fitted Sheets
“Can I tell you a story about fitted sheets? I promise it’s not as boring as it sounds.” She’s right.
Couple, both 100 years old, celebrate 80 years of marriage
I enjoyed this little story from CBC. It’s about a couple who is celebrating their 80th anniversary.
What can we know biblically about hell?
Hell is often an avoided subject today, even by many Christians. From a live Ask Ligonier events, Sinclair Ferguson considers what we learn from the Bible’s descriptions of hell and why this is an important subject to contemplate.
How Is the Sexual Revolution Affecting Women and Girls Today?
“There is one thing that the sexual revolution has done to women and girls that I don’t think we really consider very often. It is pervasive. It is far-reaching. The ramifications are really destructive.” Jen Oshman explains.
Flashback: Have You Tasted Heaven?
I have tasted the fruit of a distant land and have within me a growing longing to taste it again, to taste it all the more, to leave this land and settle in that place of such delights, of such wonder.

It is in God that the fount of spiritual and everlasting joy originates: from Him it all flows forth. —A.W. Pink

Good morning. Grace and peace to you.
Today’s Kindle deals include a collection of titles from Crossway.
(Yesterday on the blog: How Little It Takes To Be Happy (And How Much To Be Wretched))

Casey McCall eschews that whole “if necessary use words” philosophy of evangelism but still wants people to consider the necessity of behaving like Christians in front of others.

Glenna Marshall: “There is much in the Christian life that demands us to be faithful with our frailty. Beyond admitting our weaknesses and inability to save ourselves comes the long charge to suffer with the glory of Jesus in view.”

William Boekestein writes about the importance of disciplining little children. “Proverbs 13:24 isn’t saying that physical discipline is the only way. And surely there will be a cut-off age for spanking your children, perhaps somewhere between age six and ten. As children grow the discipline they receive should become more nuanced, and better matched to their changing situations. If older children fail to do a chore, make them do it with added penalties.”

This is a sweet story about a boy at the front desk.

“How do we live with discouragement? When people look at you, they see courage, but you know it is nothing but a stiff upper lip. The last thing you want to do is burden your loved ones more than necessary, so you keep your disappointment as hidden as possible.”

Randy Alcorn reminds us that the best is still yet to be.

A new year presents an ideal opportunity to address some bad habits, to interrupt some apathy, to start something fresh. And with all that in mind, I wonder: Have you read a book yet this year?

Aged Christian people should be like trees in the autumn, their branches full of ripe fruit to feed the hunger of those who live about them.
—J.R. Miller

The son of King Jeroboam had fallen deathly ill. His father was understandably worried, concerned to know whether his child would live or die. He knew just where to go for a trustworthy answer. Yet he also knew that he could not go himself.

He came up with a devious plan: he would send his wife in his place. He would send her in secret, he would send her in disguise. And she, in the guise of a disinterested commoner, would ask the prophet on her husband’s behalf. So, taking the gift of a peasant rather than the gift of a king, and wearing the clothes of a laborer rather than the clothes of a queen, she set out on her journey.
She eventually arrived at Shiloh, at the home of the prophet Ahijah. Yet she quickly learned that this prophet was not fooled by her disguise, for God had told him that she would arrive. And God had also told him what message he must deliver. “I am charged with unbearable news for you,” he said—the unbearable news that Jeroboam’s line would come to a tragic end and that, of all his household, this child alone would receive a proper, dignified burial. “When your feet enter the city, the child shall die. And all Israel shall mourn for him and bury him, for he only of Jeroboam shall come to the grave, because in him there is found something pleasing to the LORD, the God of Israel, in the house of Jeroboam.”
There is much we ought to learn from this tragic story. But today my heart is drawn to one simple lesson: There are times when royalty passes before us and we do not see it. There are times when we are in the presence of kings and queens, of princes and princesses, and we do not identify it. We do not acknowledge it.
Jeroboam’s wife passed through the land and no one knew or even suspected that she was anyone other than a commoner. Yet she was as much a queen walking to Shiloh with dust on her feet as she was sitting in the palace with diamonds around her neck. Her simple clothes and humble demeanor may have masked the reality, but they did not negate it.
A few weeks ago, I stood in the humblest of villages in the distant reaches of rural Cambodia. This is a village that has not yet been reached by electricity or running water. Yet it has been reached by the gospel and all but a scant remainder of its people have believed and become royalty—sons and daughters of the King. They wear the disguise of farmers who tend to rubber plantations and cashew groves. But even though their homes are tiny and unadorned, and even though they wear no crowns and own no robes, they are most truly princes and princesses who simply await their full inheritance.
A week later, I found myself in Fiji, making friends with men who have traveled from across the great expanses of the Pacific to be trained as pastors. Some have come from locations so remote that until they arrived at the seminary they had never even seen a car. They are humble men who have little and who may never own so much of what you and I are certain we could never live without. They pass their days in the guise of students who attend a seminary few have heard of so they can become pastors in places few will ever visit. No one greets them with honor and no one bows in their presence. Yet they, too, are royalty, made by God, known by God, loved by God, adopted by God.
And so, it strikes me that as you worship this Sunday, as you gather with your church, you should keep in mind the reality that you are surrounded by royalty. Maybe you will begin the service with a song like:

O worship the King all-glorious above,O gratefully sing his power and his love:our shield and defender, the Ancient of Days,pavilioned in splendor and girded with praise.

Give praise to your King! And perhaps as you do so, look around, look beyond the disguises—the suits and ties or the jeans and t-shirts—to see God’s family before him, God’s family joined together in worship, God’s sons and daughters rejoicing together in the Father who has made them his own, the Father who is worthy of their most heartfelt praise.