I spent my weekend the way I spent my week—in quarantine here in the Louisville suburbs. Just another few days, though, and I should be able to get my kids to college and get myself home!
There’s a nice little list of Kindle deals for those who collect them.
(Yesterday on the blog: A Repentance Not To Be Repented Of)
When your enemy falls, you are in danger! “I remember the moment a report came into me via text message. Not just any report, but a juicy report that fed my flesh the kind of a dish it loves; an ‘enemy combatant’ from my past had experienced a painful and embarrassing event that exposed them for the person I already knew them to be. I felt vindicated — even, happy. I thought to myself, ‘Yes! finally! You got what you deserved!’ But the celebration did not last long.”
This is a neat video about butterflies from the John 10:10 Project.
Esther is one of a number of people who have written about Jerry Falwell Jr. this weekend. “One thought has been going through my mind as I watch this slow-motion train wreck: A little fundamentalism could have prevented that.” (See also David French)
There are some interesting takeaways from this study on churches that have (and have not) begun to worship again.
“Being a good, hard-working employee is essential. It’s biblical. Being a morally upright employee is essential. It’s biblical. But being an evangelistic employee, and an employee that builds up other believers—that’s essential. That’s biblical too.”
Planting churches in hard places is hard! And part of what makes it so tough is that it’s difficult to find mature Christians who are willing to be there and to stay there for the sake of ministry.
This poem from M. Leanne Todd reminds me that poetry sometimes communicates more effectively than prose.
Authority comes with humility and humility comes with time. Facts come easy, but character comes hard.
There is tremendous relief in knowing his love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery can disillusion him about me.—J.I. Packer