I eventually gave in to the pressure. I had seen Three Cups of Tea on the shelves of airport bookstores, in the hands of friends and on countless bestseller lists. I thought it was only right that, if so many people were reading it, I should read it too. And so, while browsing through one of those airport bookstores and searching for some early-morning easy reading, I finally picked it up.

Of all genres of books, memoirs may be the toughest to review. After all, how is a reviewer to evaluate the life experiences of another person? What is the measure of a good memoir and what is the measure of a poor one? Ultimately, as a reviewer, I can judge only the power and effectiveness of the writing, the truthfulness of what the author claims as fact, and, more subjectively, the personal impact of the person’s life-story. And with these criteria in mind, I turn to Called Out of Darkness: A Spiritual Confession by novelist Anne Rice.

I have often expressed my love of biographies. I consider them to be among the most helpful of resources in helping equip Christians in their lifelong quest for Christ-likeness. We can learn much from the examples of those who have run the race before us. We can learn from what God taught them, learn from their triumphs and learn from the times they were defeated. I have a passion for biographies. I also have a passion for the English language. I love to see how we can use the language to craft works of art. I cannot express myself in the fine arts - music and art are both disciplines that escape me. But I consider myself a wordsmith-in-training. These two loves come together in Jack, a biography of C.S. Lewis written by a veritable master of the English language.

The story has been told time and again. C.S. Lewis once walked into a room where a lively debate was in progress. A small group of people had been discussing the various world religions, seeking to understand what made them different from Christianity. As Lewis entered, they looked to him and asked for his response. His answer was simple and it was immediate. “Grace.” Grace marks the great difference between Christianity and every other religion. Grace is a concept foreign to religion; foreign, that is, unless granted by God. We seem to have a natural desire to work for our salvation—to offer to God what we have in repayment for His gifts. Christianity is the only faith that rejects works and insists on grace. Only by God’s grace, declares the Bible, only by God’s grace can we be saved; only by grace can we enjoy a right standing with God; our works merit us nothing.

I still remember buying my first Third Day album. It was their self-titled debut album and I purchased a cassette copy of the original 9-song version released by Gray Dot Records. It was a bit rougher and, in my mind, a little bit better than the subsequent major-label re-release a year later. I loved the combination of Mac Powell's voice with the southern rock and occasional bluesy melodies. I remained quite a fan of Third Day until Time or so. While I have since grown a little bit ambivalent about their music, I continue to respect them as a band and as individuals; I admire the fact that they have strayed true to their Christian roots despite finding a great deal of fame and popularity. They seem committed to serving God in the unique way He has gifted them.

I think it is safe to say that, of all theologians contemporary or ancient, few have had as profound an affect on my life as Francis Schaeffer. Though I've read little of what he wrote, though he died when I was only a young child, and though I have never heard even one of his sermons, I know that my faith has been shaped by him. He was, after all, a major influence on my parents and on so many of their friends. Shortly after their conversion, my parents went three times to various European L'Abri locations, spending upwards of a year at them. In so many ways Schaeffer shaped their fledgling faith just as they later shaped mine. I am indebted to him as I am to them. And in this I am hardly the only one. Though it has been almost twenty five years since his death, Schaeffer's impact is still felt throughout the Christian church.

The Snake Charmer is one of two books I plucked from Dr. Al Mohler's suggested reading list for dads. It is a book that is rather unlike any I've read before. It is a biographical account of the life of Joe Slowinski, one of the world's great herpetologists. Slowinski dedicated his life to studying snakes and, in particular, poisonous snakes.

In 2001, Slowinski led an expedition of biologists and botanists as they traveled through the jungles of Burma. It was there that he was bitten by a many-banded krait, the most deadly snake in Asia and one of the most deadly snakes in the world. A world away from any kind of hospital or clinic, Slowinski knew that his chances of survival were slim. It was this quote, provided by Dr. Mohler, which gave me an interest in reading the book:

I have often heard it said that no subject in history (with the possible exception of Jesus) has received as much attention in the written word as the Second World War. Even today, more than sixty years after it drew to a close, the war continues to fascinate. We still see a constant stream of books, movies and video games drawing upon that worldwide conflict. This makes good sense, I suppose. With countless millions involved in the war in one way or another, and with each person having a story to tell, we will never lack for interesting tales. Like so many others, I never tire of reading these stories.

In November of 2008 The Soloist will debut on the big screen. Starring Jamie Foxx and Robert Downey Jr. and directed by Joe Wright (Atonement and Pride & Prejudice) it has the makings of a hit film. Before it was a film, The Soloist was a series of articles written by Steve Lopez for the Los Angeles Times. And between the two it is also a bestselling book. It tells of the unlikely meeting and the even more unlikely friendship between Lopez and Nathaniel Ayers.

Nathaniel Ayers was a prodigy, an African American musician who was accepted to Juliard to play and to study classical bass. During his second year at that school he developed schizophrenia and was quickly unable to function in such a demanding environment. He was forced to drop out. Before long he was broke and homeless, living on the streets. But despite the adversity in his life, his musical talent did not abandon him. Neither did his passion for classical music.

"I tried to get a hold of myself. But again in my mind I heard that terrible, terrible scream, the same one that awakens me, bullying its way into my solitary dreams, night after night, the confirmation of guilt. The endless guilt of the survivor. 'Help me, Marcus! Please help me!' It was a desperate appeal in the mountains of a foreign land. It was a scream cried out in the echoing high canyons of one of the loneliest places on earth. It was the nearly unrecognizable cry of a mortally wounded creature. And it was a plea I could not answer. I can't forget it. Because it was made by one of the finest people I ever met, a man who happened to be my best friend."