Yup, we are still in Unalaska since all of yesterday’s flights were once again canceled. There is some chance we get off the island on Saturday, but if not, it will be Monday at best. But all is well because we know the one who raises and stills the storms and we are glad enough to be here for as long as he decrees.
My thanks goes to Ligonier Ministries for kindly sponsoring the blog this week and for offering you the ebook edition of The Legacy of Luther as a free download.
Today’s Kindle deals include some older books. I also added some newer ones yesterday.
(Yesterday on the blog: Three Years Later: What I Miss Most)
You’ll need to block out a bit of time and attention to read this article from Carl Trueman. “Can Christians appropriate modern critical theory, not just the theories we trace back to the Frankfurt School, but contemporary critical theories of race, sexual identity, and gender? The question can be reframed: When secular critical theory turns from analysis to transformation, does it see grace and forgiveness as means of social change?”
“It is an unfortunate fact that you and I want people to think better of us than we deserve.” This is true. And worth thinking about.
“Early morning hours are precious. The house is still, quiet. The aroma of coffee wafts from the steaming mug. A single lamp illuminates the chair and table. Here is a sanctuary, a peaceful place of communion between a man and his God. And yet on many days, it is anything but peaceful.”
Lara reflects on a difficult time. “Tears in my hands and babies at my feet, I often asked God why he put us through it all. What was the purpose? What good did any of it do? What use was it to batter us so harshly with so many storms at once? Our life was fairly smooth until that year, then our roots were nearly torn from the ground. My faith felt frail.”
Here’s a short, sweet reflection on autumn.
“My eyelids lift in the dark of my bedroom. The autumn sun still sleeps below the horizon. I grab the phone on my nightstand and skim through the bolded headlines on the screen. Another attack in the middle east. Threats of terrorism. Flooding. Drought. Another shooting. My head hurts, my heart weeps, and I’m tired of waiting.”
“To reach the prodigal, you must first crawl into the story of the prodigal.” It is an ugly story, but one God so often delights in ending with the prodigal returning to all that was once his.