This book had sat on my shelf for several years and I don’t know if it was the cover or its popularity that kept me from picking it up. It seemed so broadly titled and so well know, I suppose I thought it must over shoot the mark.
However, it doesn’t. Far from a laundry list of attributes with a few Scriptures, this is one of the most pastoral and poetic theological books I’ve ever finished.
Packer is overflowing with Gospel good news and his passion for who God is, spills over into this piece. He offers an aspect of God’s character in each chapter and finishes with a final discussion of Romans 8, tying it all together.
This book is studded with hymn quotes and every chapter spins practical. This is who God is, we read, and this is why it matters in your life.
My favourite chapters were on the wisdom of God (and man) and the section on adoption. These beautiful expositions added depth and practicality to doctrines I was long familiar with.
While reading, I have frequently found myself sharing things from Knowing God with friends. It is humbling, clarifying and God glorifying – I can’t recommend it enough!
My most favourite person was born 34 years ago today.
He’s a thinker, an adventurer, truthful and kind.
And although mushy is my default. And despite the fact that I could be mushy about him all day long, I think it’s worth sharing the pictures behind those words. This is the uncut highlight reel of pictures that make me smile.
I call it: The Real Reason Why I Love Him.
This is Wesley being Wesley (as his family would say) and I love him very much.
Alabama Moon is a boy who has never been in a car or slept on a bed. Raised by his father in the deep forests of central Alabama, he’s taught to see the government as his worst and only enemy. But when his father dies, Alabama Moon must face his worst enemy yet – loneliness.
The following adventures lead him through a boy’s home, the clutches of an entitled police officer, and into the arms of the story’s moral. Friendship.
This book is cute and spends a lot of time detailing how to stalk a deer as well as how to butcher and eat a rat snake. What ended up surprising me was the innocence of it. Maybe it’s been too long since I’ve read a young adult novel, but when one is reviewed as ‘coming of age’ I don’t expect the main character to be 10 years old.
People came ‘of age’ a lot older back in my day. (Haha.)
It was a kindly story however and I enjoyed the descriptions of Southern terrain and quirky folk. Not to mention, justice was served with at least one person getting their happy ending.
And in a world like the one we live in…a simple, hatchet chopping hero with one happily ever after…well, that’s a breath of fresh air.
My quest for a good breakfast continues and muesli – kefir – blackberry bowls are winning these days. This recipe will also make your house smell like oatmeal cookies all day long. Just a little hygge for these last days of rain and cold.
4 c. oats + 1 c. nuts + 1 c. coconut + 1 tsp. vanilla + pinch of salt + 1/2 tbsp. cinnamon + 1/4 tsp. nutmeg + 1/4 tsp. cloves + 1/4 c. coconut oil + 1/4 c. maple syrup + 1 c. dried fruit
When I chose this title I expected the demure memoir of wartime service, perhaps written by an old lady in pink and white, smelling of peppermints. A few pages in, I realized that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Vera Brittain was a teenager when The Great War broke out, interrupting her first year at Oxford, a budding romance and idealism born of her Victorian upbringing. She soon left university and began nursing, a career that took her to London, Malta and eventually frontline duty in France.
This memoir details war time tragedy (her fiancé and brother were both killed in action) and more broadly, her growth from girl to self-possessed, independent woman. Her descriptions of wartime exhaustion are vivid and sobering. She doesn’t mince words to spare feelings, especially when it comes to her criticism of the powers that be – either God or government.
Brittain’s voice is tough and opinionated. With nothing good to say about her upbringing, she comes back again and again to how innocent and vulnerable her generation were to a ‘patriotic’ war, where heroic glory seemed a fair trade for sacrificed youth. Her story is undergirded with a tireless appeal for feminism, career, productivity, progress and peace – heartbreaking to think about in context of WWII, already on the horizon as she wrote.
She is not the women I imagined publishing a book in 1933 and this is not a simple little memoir. I read the last page feeling as if I’d known a whole and flawed person, however, something that doubtlessly took courage and care to write. For that, if nothing else, Vera Brittain has my respect.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.”