Tiny Perfect

Another wonderful January winds to an end. It is chilly outside and warm inside and my heart is full. Many burritos have been constructed and are about to be placed into the oven. Music calmly issues from the TV. And yes, a candle burns. I am about to open a book and read and enjoy a bare few moments of my mind relaxing utterly as I sink into a tale of the long ago and still yet to come. And I am ever so grateful for quiet nights such as this. I sigh. My heart slows. The dreams in my soul are being fulfilled better than I ever knew. Peace and love, dear friends.

The Stained Cobblestones Call For My Attention

A quiet winter morning awakes. It is still dark outside though there are the faintest glimmerings as the sun begins to rise. And it is cold. The air hovers a few degrees below freezing and I wish I could put on my coat and hat and scarf and gloves and go on a lovely early morning walk to breathe deep of the fresh winter air but alas this is a day in which I am obliged to work frantically away on this little laptop. I should be grateful and indeed I am. But nonetheless I still sigh. My heart yearns for that long winter walk with my legs striding on before me as I gaze up at the clouds scudding past in the early morning sky. Maybe I shall make a slight excuse and go out just for a few minutes. Just for a few. I now with a pep in my step and a fire in my heart leap up. This day shall be glorious.

All The Trimmings

A few book thoughts this cold grey January day.

3. Moon Shadow by Rachel Shinnick. A fine second book in the Moon Thief trilogy! I was much delighted by this one and as I started reading was drawn even more into the saga of Ilis and her friends. The first chapter was suitably dramatic and emotional and while I shall be attempting not to spoil things here, I really enjoyed how it set us up for the rest of the book and established Ilis and her place in Beriyth. I loved the letter conceit that was used throughout – it did a marvelous job of both communicating the emotions of the main characters as well as ratcheting up the tension. What is going on in this world? Why is the moon red? What’s going on with the “Lift”? And can Ilis protect her land from the Aetoneans? These questions are (mostly) answered, though as this is the second book in the trilogy, there is a definite sense of unfinished business and lingering fear as one closes the book. I have to confess, I did not at all anticipate the ending of this one. It shook me. I will have to re-read at some point soon and I am curious as to how knowing the end will affect a re-read. The characters in this one are still a joy and I love some of the new characters introduced – especially Cogs! Him and Kat’s friendship is one of my favourite parts of the book and I was always smiling whenever they were on stage. I’ve been a bit all over the place with this one but that’s partly because I really don’t want to spoil. I much enjoyed this. The author’s writing style in the first book was bracingly fast-paced yet lovely – this book the writing took a step up, feeling even more confident and sure of itself as the author continued to unfold her story. The emotional scenes in this one hit all the harder and the beauty shone through all the more. I’m quite excited to see what she does with book 3 and cannot wait to read!

4. Practical Religion by J.C. Ryle. A wonderfully encouraging book. Every time I read a book by Ryle, I wonder why I haven’t read more of his and am all the more eager to find another to add to my shelf. Yes, Ryle is a 19th-century writer and so at times the style feels a bit old-fashioned to her ears. But yet? Ryle speaks clearly and forcefully of the Christian faith and what it calls us to and he is not ashamed one bit. I love how much Ryle feels the weight of the message of the gospel and how passionately he calls us all to make sure we are in the faith as we meditate on our own place in this life. This book is an easy read in some ways, as each chapter is standalone and can be read as part of your daily meditation or devotion. Some of the chapters are a bit longer and will require an extended period (perhaps an hour), yet each chapter is well worth it. I need to read more books like this, books that encourage me in what I believe and remind me of what I know and yet give me further fuel and fire to delight in my Lord and to seek ever more to follow him all of my days. As I read this, I was reminded of the simple and practical parts of our daily life that we should and ought give to our Lord and how silly is it that we so often segregate our life between the secular and the spiritual whereas we should actually consider the whole entirety of our life in the light of the spiritual and seek that we might be properly taking steps that would align us more with what our God has called us to. I realise I haven’t really talked about the main meat of this book – so what is this book really about? As I mentioned, each chapter is standalone, so each chapter is different and it is difficult for me to say there is one major theme. There are chapters on bible reading, prayer, zeal, love, the Lord’s table, sickness, riches and poverty, our final home, the fundamental differences between the Christian and non-Christian and so many other topics. It is helpful to think about these things and Ryle writes so clearly and plainly that it is easy to understand, even with the slightly outdated language at times. Truly this is a pastoral book, and one that I would encourage to all. Yes, he wrote this in a different time, where the majority of people were at least nominally Christian and so some of his lines seem a bit odd now as he’s clearly writing to people who have at least a familiarity with church and Christianity. Still I think this book would benefit anyone who would read it now, even as it would clarify what it means for one to be a Christian and be a follower of Jesus. Reading books that encourage me in following Christ and to be more intentional in my daily walk? Yes please. I need more books like this in my life.

5. Christianity and Liberalism by J. Gresham Machen. A superb polemical work, even if at times feeling a bit dated by the time in which it was written. If anything though, this serves both as a proper aid to understanding true historic Christianity as well as a historical primer of the state of the church in the early 20th century. This book really is a fascinating look at the state of the established church (with an American focus) now about a hundred years back and Machen’s book is a bracingly clear and concise defense of what were considered the orthodox beliefs of Christianity. Machen is addressing those “liberals” in his time who began to believe and say and preach (even if veiled at times) that perhaps some of the historic truths of Christianity weren’t quite as important as they were of old made out to be and that perhaps they weren’t even true at all. The quest for the historical Jesus had already began and the critical method had begun to be used as a tool for questioning the old ways of understanding both the Bible and Christianity. Machen in this book attempts to challenge the new paradigm and he takes great offense at the cunning of the modern scholars and theologians who attempt to reframe and ever so gently reshape the Christianity of old to make it more palatable to the modern enlightened mind. Machen holds fast to the old-time religion and in this slim volume (really a quick read – knocked it out in less than a week to Dani’s chagrin!) he spends time talking about some of the fundamentals of the Christian faith and comparing the Christian view to the liberal one. These fundamentals include thoughts on “doctrine”, “the Bible”, “God and Man”, “Christ”, “Salvation” and “the Church”. I think I just named the chapters in this book, for the most part. Machen with skill and grace attacks the liberal position and attempts to set forth the Christian position as the one which aligns with both historic and metaphysical reality. He at times can be a bit abrasive yet I do get the sense that Machen is deeply wounded and shaken by the subtle attacks of those who toss forth that classic question – “hath God said?” and in soft words and softer intimations indicate that of course their position is the only reasonable one in the here and now. Are we not in the modern age, after all? Machen is fighting for the faith and I admire his zeal and love for the Lord as he clearly defines the core ethos of Christianity.

I have a few times mentioned the word “fundamental” and while Machen is often seen as a precursor to the “Fundamentalism” movement of the 20th century, I’m not sure he would himself align with such. Yes he clearly believes in the reality of a spiritual world and the possibility and actuality of the miraculous and supernatural work of God (In ways his thoughts on such reminded me of Lewis’ book ‘Miracles’, which I really must re-read soon!). Yes he clearly believes in the authority of the Word of God and the efficacy of such in working in the hearts and minds of men and women through the power of the Holy Spirit. Yet he also is one who very much values the thoughts and minds of the scholars and theologians of old and does not so eagerly dismiss the written works of the past few thousand years, understanding how much God has worked in his church throughout the past few millennia in increasing our understanding of who God is and how God is working on this earth. Yet Machen also doesn’t hold as blindly as some to earthly institutions and manmade hierarchies. He calls for a simple Christianity and a simple faith, a belief in the God who is real and who in reality stepped on this earth and died on an actual cross of wood so that all those who simply believed on Him would have life eternal, both now and in the age to come. This is both simple and profound and should shake all who think truly upon these words. I was much benefitted by reading this book and while it might be a bit heady for some, I would definitely recommend it to anyone who wants to think a bit more about the core tenets of the Christian faith and how they compare to some of the modern thoughts and beliefs we even now have about what it means to be a Christian. There are different battles we fight now to be sure. But even now, there are those who call themselves Christians who preach another gospel. Is it not helpful for us to consider even now what the true gospel of Christianity is? What message shall be proclaimed?

Coastline

A quiet Friday morning here for the now. A winter storm approaches these climes and though in general I would welcome such, I fear that our city is not well suited for sub-zero temperatures so I’m slightly worried as to how we will fare. But Dani and I are prepared enough and though I doubt we’ll see any snow, I do look forward to some nice cold weather walks where gloves and hat are required! I got a nice piece of beef chuck at the store yesterday, along with the necessary bag of potatoes and carrots, onions, etc. This all points to a yummy roast beef dinner tomorrow night as the bitter cold descends upon us. I think that is most proper, is it not? I also look forward to some extended times of reading and writing and of course flickering candle on the table and a mug of hot chocolate in the hand. Not sure what I shall write but surely my muse will come up with…something? Anything?? Now, back to the task at hand. Work calls my name and by the grace of the Lord, I shall conquer. Peace and love, my friends.

Valentine

A quiet Wednesday evening here. I know I don’t usually post at this time (or – at least it’s been a while!) but thought I had my laptop out and might as well at least write a few words! Today’s been a cold drizzly grey day. Sometimes I love those kinds of days. Alas today my love was dry. After I finished work, I would have loved to go out and walk in the cold afternoon but the showers descending without mercy gave me pause. So inside I have stayed! Bonus work was accomplished. Some reading was also done. I am almost done with the adventures of the Count of Monte Cristo. What a beast of a book! I hit the thousand-page mark last night and still a good bit to go!! It is worth it, although I am not convinced that it compares to some of my other 19th-century favs. Maybe I’m just not a fan of French lit. Maybe I just prefer the Russians. What does that say about me?

In other news, the scents of dinner rise. Dani is in the kitchen and I am now pleased to report that it seems as if a delicious dinner of fried okra and beef is at hand. Soon enough we shall enjoy a pleasant and delicious dinner and then bed time will be my lot. Early I know, but work is pressing hard of late and I fear I need all my strength to meet the challenge. The Lord gives grace, always.

Now I shall cease this slightly rambling evening post. It’s been a bit since I’ve written like this (makes me nostalgic for the entries of my past a bit!) and though I can’t promise I will keep this up, it makes me smile to write a few words in the middle of a hectic tiring week. Apologies for the lack of anything resembling creativity or wit. Perhaps next time, my friends, perhaps! Oh and one question for the readers. What books should I tackle next? I’m pondering which beautiful works of fiction shall be on my reading list this year of 2026. I am considering a Lord of the Rings re-read (it’s been too long!) and perhaps some more Lewis as well. But I am undecided so I would heartily welcome any beloved recommendations.

Now I am off for real. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.

Fondly She Says

They sit around the table talking of all the delicate things of life. They speak of loving from a distance and friendships severed and high drama now converted to a steady well-banked fire. On the table is laid a feast with one large pot of meat and sauce and other smaller bowls with various accoutrement and at the end sits a plate of sliced bread still slightly steaming and a small dish of butter invitingly placed nearby. It may seem slightly unnecessary to take the time to describe the food and its placement on the table yet does it not add to understanding the back and forth of the hands that go here and there as various bits of this and that get added to bowls as the conversation carries ever on? I am attempting to paint a scene and sometimes I prefer to let my gentle readers fill in the dialogue for themselves if only they see the staging well described before them. So yes. Back to the table at hand. The four friends talk in a way which indicates kinship or union of some kind, even if it can also be seen that they do not know each other as intimately as family might. Yet there are smiles that linger on one face long after an encouraging word has been said and no one is looking in his direction. What is it to share your heart with another and know that it is being seen as true? This is rare, is it not? I know I crave such. But now I leave the table and glance at the tea kettle that already is near at a boil. Four cups on the counter with tea bags placed within. A glance into the living room where sofa and comfy chairs sit and I can imagine them sitting there with cups cradled gratefully in hands, steam rising to caress joyous faces. They sit as I knew they would and then of course the continued chatting about life and death and the divine amidst the mundane of which we everyday breath and see. There is nothing grand to be said about this whole evening of course, it is just a small homey scene. Yet perhaps are not those the grandest? I think so.

Pride Strides Afore

a dance to the death they say
i welcome it
bring it
the dance or the death?
no answer given
only my lips move slightly
in the beginnings of a
smirk
across the floor stands my opponent
well oiled, prepared, painted well
here i stand alone and sad
without a petal to my name
she tosses her bouquet of roses
and out i shimmy
we shall see who conquers
in this dingy bar under the
neon lights

Fare Thee Well

She stood at the window gazing with calm equanimity across the chaotic void. The last ship had launched and the fiery remnants of its wake still glistened and yet her face did not display any trace of tears though she knew she would never see her love again. She stood for several long slow beats of her heart feeling her body pulse to the rhythm of the station’s reactor. There would be time to mourn later, of course. There would be nothing but time and she would struggle to know how to fill it. But for now, for this moment, she wanted to feel her union with him as a still present reality and to admit to separation would be akin to standing over her own grave. She refused to think of the long years that stretched before her. Instead, she felt the press of his hand on hers and the lingering touch of his lips. She remembered the small smile that graced his face as he had turned one last time before walking down the gangway. She let his final words ring in her ears. They would meet again, to be sure. But it would be on the other side of space and time. She would see his face again in a place which she now saw only vague outlines of in her dearest dreams.

And now comes the long march. Now comes the cold dark of the unknown years which stretch afore her. She must fill the void with the little graces and beauties that she had spent so many years cultivating in fertile soil. Now comes the refining fire and the test of faith. But the void is too vast for her to fill with the finite scribblings of a weary heart. Yet still it must be filled.

Juliet let her shoulders relax and she sighed a mortal sigh. And in the light of the star filled sky she felt tears begin to fill her eyes.

Friend

A Monday morning says hello and soon oh too soon must I begin to work, this I know. But can I not spend a bare few minutes typing up a little soliloquy? Whether or not I’m granted permission, I proceed. It is a cold morning and though I wish I could enjoy it with a nice long walk, there is no time alas. Perhaps later! For the now, I simply sit and meditate on what I’ve read this morning. From beautiful words of comfort and joy found in the Bible to words of strong exhortation and sweet encouragement from JC Ryle, I’m grateful for the time I have to ponder heavenly things as I think on the inheritance that is mine through the glorious work of Jesus Christ. Soon enough the hustle and bustle of the daily stresses will commence and I shall deal with those in their proper order. But no matter what comes, I walk forward in calm confidence that all I do is through the grace and power granted me by God himself. I rejoice knowing that I am called a child of God and have no fear of what may come this day. Though I was once a sinner vile and blind of eye and perverse of heart, I now have been made anew, am regenerated true and born again that I might sing glory glory to my God! Jesus is my friend. What a thought! I sit here and let that wash over me and think on it again. Jesus is my friend.

And though now I act in faith and bemoan the fact that I cannot take his hand and feel the scars and touch the side that bore the spear for me, I do look upward now knowing that he is there at the right hand of God ever mediating for me his friend. Yet he is there yet also here in union with me in divine mystery that I don’t fully understand. But this union is something beautiful, a vine that I am part of. Yes, I abide in Christ. I close my eyes for a second and think again that I am a child of God. The Spirit prods me closer down the path and reminds me that this world is not my home. I have another and even now my friend Jesus makes it ready for me. Soon I come. Not yet. But soon. I long for that far country where I shall sit at the feet of Jesus and share a meal with him. Now I think on the meal I take in memory, that wine and bread which reminds me of that work which Jesus did for me. His body, broken for me. His blood, given for me. I am washed and clean and wear robes of white because the Lamb of God gave his life for me. And this is not a mere transactional note in the divine ledgers. No, Jesus looks to me in love and stretches out his hand and says come. Come to me and you shall find your rest. Yes, my Lord, I come. I rest in you. I delight to say – Jesus, my dear friend and brother, I rest in you! My Lord and my God, I rest in you.

Signed and Sealed

in the fog he strides and sings
glory glory to my king!
he lifts his head and smells the smoke
whispering to himself of what he knows
promises that were long ago written
words of life that for him were given
and though too oft he tends to stutter
and wastes his thoughts on another
there are times like now when he stands tall
and remembers seeing the rainbow at the falls
so please forgive him for not always being plain of speech
for it brings him perhaps perverse delight to weave poetry
that subtly whispers truth that aches with love
and gently hints at the truths of him who sits above
but now he laughs and cries as he remembers his story
his heart burns within him as he ponders that farther glory
and he knows that though he was lost and broken true
and that he had no idea what if anything he could do
there was one who reached out his hand
and pleaded him to come into the farther land
all he had to do was fall and kneel and pray
and in desperate humble brokenness ask and say
Lord I bring nothing I am but ash and rust
save me save me oh save me or I am lost!
and so he looks to the cross and says i believe
help me God to come now to thee
for on my own i would surely be done
but now i rest my faith in you God’s own Son!
and that is all and that is enough he cries
for he knows that for his soul the Son did die!
so now he’s washed and now he’s clean
and now he stands forever among the redeemed
he rises up through the waters of the brook
and to the far shore he now dares to look
the pilgrim way continues on and ever on
but now he walks with the light of God
and though his writings still sometimes stumble
and though his poetry tends to kind of mumble
he leaves this here for a witness
to the God whom he confesses
Father, Son and Spirit Holy
eternity now whispers
and I follow