- "Can I Drag That Into Church?" Good stuff to read on a Sunday morning:
Every week at church one of our pastors leads us through a time of corporate confession of sins and an assurance of pardon. This week my pastor Jason noticed the tentative way people were walking into church. “Are we allowed to come in like this on the clean wood floors? Is all the salt, slush, dirt, and powder too much of a mess for church this morning?”
He pointed out that’s the way all too many of us walk into church every week: “Am I allowed to come in like this? Is this mess okay in here? Can I come sit in the pews with all the slush, grime, and filth from my life? Is this sin too dirty to clean up? Is my mess going to stain the carpet? Do I have to make sure I’m gotten every single speck off before I walk through the door?”
- "A Simple But Life-Changing Realization" - And this one is a good follow-up:
I came to understand that God’s commands are not suggestions. They are not vague notions of propriety. They are not tasks or to-dos. Not to the Christian, that is. To the Christian, God’s commands are promises. They are promises that you really can be this, you really can have this, you really can do this if you take hold of what he offers. God does not merely give the command and then leave you to your own devices. That would be impossible. No, God gives the command and offers the means to obey and fulfill the command.
- "More on Memoir": in my editing job, I see a lot of memoir proposals and queries. And this post hit home, more than I can say.
- Mere Fidelity podcast "Transfiguration": This episode is a great example of what I love about this podcast: intelligent Christians discussing approaching scripture and theology with great curiosity, knowledge, & love.
-And, finally, as this Sunday is the first Sunday in Advent, I couldn't let this go without an Advent link. So, take the time to head over to Anne's place to read about why Advent is a "Contrarian Celebration":
The great looming temptation is to become tired and call it a day, to stop short at the end of the work, and miss the incredible mercy of what all the work is for.