This blog is shutting down for a period—at least nine months. No, I am not pregnant and needing to devote my time to nurturing The Baby Inside of Me. Quite simply, I am about to start teaching college classes in the fall as part of my assistantship, will be getting married in December, will be writing my Masters thesis, and will be working to graduate in May. Out of all of that, there are several reasons that give rise to a necessary break from the writing of the blog. They are as follows: Read More

The wide spectrum of Christ’s character always challenges me, especially in light of how the roles and tasks he assumes undergo a shift from the incarnation to his ascension. It’s clearly stated in the Gospels that Jesus didn’t come to judge, and when he’s on the earth as the Word-made-flesh Son of God, there is no judgment to be found. Yes, he displays righteous anger at times. He also has plenty of harsh words for the Pharisees, but even then there would be grace readily available to them if they would only accept (consider the story of Nicodemus). At the end of Scripture, though, Jesus has changed in the book of Revelation. He’s taken on the role of a judge, doling out summations of how people have spent their time—what they could have done better and what they did right. I feel as if there’s something here that’s crucial to recognize. Read More

The best literature, to me, is inherently local. I base my subjective opinion off of my own experiential sort of research. Essentially, this conclusion comes down to answering one question: “Would I read that book again?” First, I did some math. Assuming that I read a book a week for the rest of my life and assuming that “the rest of my life” means I have another fifty years to live, I can except to read anywhere from 2,000 to 2,500 books with my remaining time on this earth. Now, obviously, I could die tomorrow, and then all of this math would be pointless. But, regardless, my conclusion is this: That’s a lot of books, and it’s not a lot of books at the same time. Most people won’t read near that many books in their lifetime, but then again, there are so many books out there to read—so much so that being able to say, “Well, I’ve read over 2,500 in my lifetime,” really isn’t even close to making a dent. So much to read and so little time. Therefore, a book would have to be exceptional to merit a second read. Why waste reading Gone With the Wind again when you could be using all of that time to encounter a new novel? Clearly, the only reason you would do so is if Gone With the Wind was really, truly, honest to God that good to begin with. And so I ask myself after reaching the words “The End”: Would I read that book again? Read More