I’m a little tardy with this week’s installment of L&L. I’m sure you’ve all been waiting on pins and needles! Instead of compiling a list of links, I spent yesterday attacking the mountains of post-vacation laundry as well doing a little shopping while my guys took in the Dark Knight flick.
So, without further adieu, here’s some links I’ve liked this week and some posts that made me think…
I, like you, have watched the horror of the Colorado shootings with great sadness and shock. As I pray for those suffering and grieving, I find Al Mohler’s thoughts in his post The Dark Night in Denver–Groping for Answers both comforting and sobering…
We must grieve with those who grieve. We must pray for Gospel churches in the Denver area who will be called upon for urgent ministry. We must pray for our nation and communities. And we must pray that God will guard ourselves from evil — especially our own evil. And we must point to the cross. What other answer can we give?
And Collin Hansen reminds us The True Knight Has Risen:
No cry of why will satisfy our search for a reasonable explanation to the horrors of this age. But the God-man who cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” comforts us in our grief (Matt. 27:46). Even more, his unjust death and ultimate triumph in resurrection is the very means by which we can begin even now to enjoy never-ending peace with the “Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3).
J.I. Packer advises aspiring writers….
There are enough people around already who can verbalize orthodoxy on paper. What we haven’t got is writers who can join truth and wisdom about God from the Scriptures with personal communication — communication that hits the heart, that makes you realize that this writer is a person talking to other persons, that this writer is trying to search me in order to help me, and I must let him do it. There is a certain art and craft in writing in such a way that it gets to the reader’s heart.
In a similiar vein, Aaron Armstrong offers a quote from Charles Bridges…
Our business is to make men think, not of our eloquence, but of their own souls; to attend, not to our fine language, but to their own everlasting interest. Our duty is . . . not to stroke the ear, but to strike the heart
And John Piper speaks with Jennie Allen about writing and the fight for glory…
If the fight for my affection was going to be everywhere, I decided to fight in the place I loved. I love to write. I don’t know why, but I love it. So I am going to fight this war here.
Speaking of Piper, Desiring God offers a visual graphic of one of my favorite quotes from him.
Rebecca reviews a book that has immediately found a place on my amazon wishlist:
I might be the first to recommend it specifically for the primary readers of this blog—women with busy lives who love God’s truth. If your other obligations force you to be choosy about the books you read, put this on your reading list anyway. If you are a believing woman, Christ’s death in your place is the object of your faith, whether you understood it fully when you first believed or not. Christ’s penal substitutionary death is the grounds for the big “Yes” to all the promises of God that you enjoy. It’s the center, the heart, the hinge of your spiritual life.
And, finally, there’s been much internet chatter about complementarianism of late. Here’s Mary Kassian’s guide to what the term means and what it doesn’t.
Any links you’ve liked this week? Let us know in the comments!