Search & Ye Shall Find...

I have to admit, I’m quite enjoying rounding up these recommendations each week, and I hope you are as well. In this week’s News From the Frontlines, you’ll find material on Heaven, aliens, anxiety, prayer, exercise, and a great video on the glory of God as seen through the lens of mathematics. May the Lord be praised—“To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen” (1 Timothy 1:17). News From the Frontlines: Recommended Reading, Listening, & Watching God’s Children Really Will Live Happily Ever After In this brief reflection on the ending of The Chronicles of Narnia, Randy Alcorn considers the indescribable happy ending awaiting all those in Christ Jesus—a future so glorious and so weighty that it puts all fairy-tale stories to shame. And best of all, this story is true. The Infinite Gulf: The Creator-Creature Distinction and the Limits of Human Knowledge Furthermore, the very reason why we shall live happily ever after is because of the unending, perfect communion we shall share with our perfect, unending, infinite Creator: “Glorification cures us of our sin, but it does not cure us of our finitude. When we are ushered into the final state and see Him face to face, we will still only see Him as creatures beholding the Divine. We will see Him finitely, even as He remains infinite. In that glorious consummation, God will still be accommodating His uncreated majesty to our finite, creaturely capacities. Our eternal worship will not be a mystical dissolving of the self into the infinite ocean of His essence, but a perfect, everlasting communion—the finite creature safely dwelling in the presence of the infinite Father.” Spurgeon’s Surprising View on Aliens Surprising, indeed. “I was surprised to learn that Charles Spurgeon made comments about the possibility of intelligent life existing beyond our planet. But not too surprised. The man was prolific, opinionated, and bold. When you have more words printed in English than anyone else in history, it means you said a lot of stuff.” Six Realities for the Anxious Soul As many of you may know by now, my wife is a Biblical counselor and each week I ask her to give one recommendation for this segment, be it an article, essay, video, or podcast episode. From the title alone, you can no doubt guess that this is her suggestion for the week. Lord willing, you too are encouraged as this pastor walks through Matthew 6:25-34—Jesus’ famous sermon on anxiety. “I think we worry most in the places where we feel things slipping. The body that is not as strong as it was. The cultural moment that feels like it is caving in. The institution you have poured yourself into that feels more fragile than you want to admit. The influence that is harder to measure than it used to be. We do not usually panic in places of stability. We panic at the edges, where things are fading and we cannot stop them.” Act In Accordance With Your Prayers This is a nice companion piece to the one above. In it, Michael Kelley draws attention to the reality that Biblical prayer is far more than merely “Letting go and letting God.” Prayer includes not only a childlike faith and dependence in the power, love, and character of God to do what He has promised in His word, but also a willing obedience to follow up our prayers with action before we receive even a single response from God—indeed, is not our faithful obedience to act in accordance with His word the beginnings of an answer in and of itself? “We pray for God to change someone’s heart, and so we share the gospel with that person. We pray for God to provide our daily bread, and so we actively search for a job. We pray God would turn our children towards Him and we actively treat them with Christlike love and compassion.” A Theology of Exercise: Why Christians Should Train Their Bodies for God’s Glory If you haven’t heard of Jonny Ardavanis and Dial In Ministries, I would encourage you to check out his podcast of the same name. In this video (from YouTube, though you can find his podcast anywhere podcasts are found), Jonny and author David Mathis discuss physical exercising for the glory of God. Can Math Prove God? The Argument From Eternal Truths In this lengthy but really quite fascinating video, Gavin Ortlund considers whether mathematics proves the existence of God (hint: like just about everything else in God’s world, it most surely does). Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply clicking here and entering your email. And as always, the very best you can do is share my writing with others who may also be encouraged by it. If you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

The Grand River ebbs and flows lazily through Galt, the historical district of Cambridge, Ontario. Have you ever paused to consider how a place comes to find itself haunted? Haunted in the old-fashioned sense of the word: laden heavily with experience, nostalgia, and memory, rather than the modern fare of ghosts, spirits, and phantoms. In Ireland, for example, the idea of a haunted place runs rampant, so much so that there is a particular phrase attributed to these locations: liminal spaces. In literature and history more broadly, a liminal space is a place of transition, a threshold between one thing and the next—between seasons, between relationships, between worlds. Ever caught between their ancient Celtic past dripping with the dew of druids, folklore, and fairies and their industrialized future under the shadow of Great Britain, it comes as little wonder that Irish literature carries with it a sense of the haunted and hallowed. In his novel, That Hideous Strength, C.S. Lewis, who was himself of Irish descent, paints a portrait not only of a haunted Ireland or even a haunted Britain, but a haunted history of Europe. One of the most chilling passages in the story takes place around the final third of the novel as three characters—Jane, Dimble, and Arthur—make their way through a dark and rainy forest in search of the wizard Merlin from Arthurian legend. As the three companions venture further into the bowels of the dark wood, Dimble, the oldest among the group, begins to sense that they are on the brink of passing some threshold from which they, quite possibly, cannot so easily return: “The change from the road to the field was as if one had passed from a waking into a phantasmal world. Everything became darker, wetter, more incalculable. Each small descent felt as if you might be coming to the edge of a precipice.” As the sense of place begins to weigh upon Dimble and company, his mind starts flipping through all those dusty pages of history which he consumed over his lifetime as a scholar: “‘The Dark Ages,’ thought Dimble; how lightly one had read and written those words. But now they were going to step right into that Darkness. It was an age, not a man, that awaited them in the horrible little dingle. And suddenly all that Britain which had been so long familiar to him as a scholar rose up like a solid thing. He could see it all.” This phenomenon of liminal spaces is by no means limited to the isle of Ireland, or to Britain, or to the crumbling pages of ancient texts. Pitch your tent in a place long enough, and it will undoubtedly begin to take root in your memory. In time, your memories and experiences will even shape the location itself, creating a new place that is not entirely its own—owing much of its character to you and your influence, whether for good or for ill. Are not our respective hometowns almost haunted in a similar way? Caught as they are between the warmth of our dimly lit nostalgia for a childhood come and gone, and the desire to flee as far as we’re able from the bounds such memories and experiences might impose upon us? Even the ministry of Jesus was not immune to the innumerable vices, criticisms, and memories of His own hometown. In Mark 6:1-6, we read that Jesus visits Nazareth of Galilee, His hometown, where He teaches with authority and wisdom about the Kingdom of God. Though the people of his hometown were—even self-admittedly—“astonished” at the wisdom of His teaching and the mighty works of His hands (6:2), they nonetheless responded to Him with ambivalence and unbelief. Indeed, the crowds of Nazareth thought they knew who Jesus was simply because He lived among them for so long in seeming obscurity: “Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” (6:3). Mark writes that the people “took offense at him.” The pride of Nazareth was assaulted that one of their own, a lowly carpenter of little repute, should dare speak with authority into their lives on those things pertaining to the soul. The Lord departed from their midst with these words: “A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household” (6:4). I suppose the opposite can also be true—“A hometown is not without honor, except in the eyes of a prophet.” Growing up, I knew many self-proclaimed prophets in my hometown. They were prophets, of sorts, in that they supposed they were to be the ones to put our little town of Cambridge on the map—just as soon as they got out of it, of course. ‘Lamebridge,’ they called it. The reality is that some of us never do end up leaving our hometowns. Or perhaps we do, just not very far. And maybe we do get far enough away, only to end up back where we started one way or another. I’ve moved four times in my life, all within the past five years, and only one of those moves has found me outside of my hometown of Cambridge. Some way or another, my road always takes me back home. And you know what? That’s quite alright by me. I know this town, and it knows me. Almost everywhere I go, I find that my memories have cast their shadows somewhere; memories themselves which are lit by the golden light of a childhood flame that has been well tended to over the years with many familiar faces, sights, sounds, and streets. I know this town. In my mind I can trace the lamplit streets of Blair; the very streets where my wife and I walked and talked for many hours on our first date as the velvety boughs of ancient oaks overshadowed us; not far from there, twin steeples pierce the skyline on the edge of the Grand River, sentinels whispering of what once made our city, our country, a Christian one; and just across the bridge, Galt’s historical district, with its many coffee bars, bookstores, chocolate shops, and pizzerias, each little storefront strung together like little tealights in the dwindling, violet light. In the best way possible, my hometown haunts me and, perhaps, I haunt it—these are, after all, my memories, my experiences, and my reflections of the place. Of the many thousands of souls who call this town home, no two of us see it in quite the same way. So it is with all hometowns, even your own. For remember, in your striving to live faithfully and as unto the Lord, you will begin to shape the place, hometown or otherwise, even as the place shapes you. In seeking the welfare of the place wherein the Lord has sovereignly placed you, you are in effect creating a little corner of the world that is not entirely its own, haunting it with Heaven, wherein it suddenly begins to owe much of its character to you and your godly influence as you look beyond this earthly tent to that Heavenly city which you can really call home. “But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jeremiah 29:7). Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply clicking here and entering your email. And as always, the very best you can do is share my writing with others who may also be encouraged by it. If you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Welcome to News From the Frontlines, and to all my American friends, a most happy Fourth of July. Here is a brief sampling of this week’s recommendations: dealing with regret and shame Biblically, embracing the joys of married sex, a sobering reflection on the UK’s recent “Rape Gang Inquiry Report,” and fittingly, a piece discussing what the Bible has to say about patriotism. Read, share, and above all, be encouraged in the Lord Jesus Christ who reigns from everlasting to everlasting, no matter which earthly powers wrestle with futility for the steering wheel of this age. News From the Frontlines: Recommended Reading, Listening, & Watching Crushed By Past Regrets? Here’s the Biblical Cure Dr. Greg Gifford is a Biblical Counselor, army veteran, professor at The Master’s Seminary, and host of Transformed. You can find his podcast on Spotify (which I’ve linked to here), Apple Podcasts, or over at the Fortis Institute. In this episode of Transformed, Dr. Gifford begins his series on emotions by considering whether our regrets in life have less to do with the circumstances of our past mistakes and sins, and more to do with our view of God. My wife, a Biblical Counselor herself, sent me this episode a few weeks ago and I was quite encouraged by it—perhaps you will be as well. Would You Attend Your Son’s Execution? “It is right that we thank God for the cross and good that we praise him for it. It is appropriate that we proclaim it as the greatest of all manifestations of the love and wisdom of God. But I very much doubt it looked that way to Mary. I very much doubt Mary looked up to Jesus as he hung on the cross and praised God for his wisdom, or that she thanked God for the blood of his Son (who was, of course, equally her son). I doubt God expected her to.” The Delightful Duty of Married Sex Writing for Desiring God, Tilly Dillehay considers how “duty kisses delight in God’s world,” particularly in His good gift of sexual intimacy between husband and wife. “God commanding a husband and wife to have sex is like a master commanding his servants to throw a party out of his own larder, using the best wine and best dishes. It’s like a boss commanding his employees to give themselves a raise and a paid vacation to Bali. Here you have been commanded, as man and woman, to engage regularly in something that God designed to give you moments of literal ecstasy and unifying, self-forgetful delight. Of all the hobbies you could engage in together — tennis, chess, movies — this is the only hobby you’ve been told not to neglect.” Will Britain finally awaken? Speaking of celebrating—or lamenting—one’s nation, this was a tough read. When I first heard about the “Rape Gang Inquiry Report” that came out of the UK from a few weeks ago, my heart held tightly to the promise of God’s just wrath against all evildoers from Romans 12:19: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’” Over at WORLD, Joe Rigney considers this devastating report in light of Biblical reality and the Lord’s holiness in a way that is both helpful and sobering. The Quiet Crisis of Prayerless Orthodoxy “If I do not pray, I may say God is sovereign, but I function as if I am. If I do not pray, I may say God is wise, but I act as if my instincts are enough. If I do not pray, I may say I am weak, but I live as if I am strong. If I do not pray, I may say ministry depends on the Spirit, but I behave as if preparation, personality, and planning are sufficient.” How Can We Give Generously without Worrying? Drawing from Scripture, God’s character as displayed through His promises, and a handful of personal experiences, Randy Alcorn addresses those of us who, at different times and in our own different ways, have wrongly concluded that “If I give generously, I’ll have to worry about where the money will come from to replace what I’ve given.” The Joy of Patriotism As believers, we are called to seek the welfare of the city and nation in which the Lord has placed us—this is our duty in and out of season, not just once a year on a special day. Nonetheless, this seemed a particularly fitting article for this week given both Canada and America celebrated another anniversary. “We can honor our leaders and our nation even in the most dire of circumstances because we joyfully trust that our King reigns and he will vindicate his people.” Photo by Europeana, Unsplash Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply clicking here and entering your email. And as always, the very best you can do is share my writing with others who may also be encouraged by it. If you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

A few months ago, I took up swimming. What began purely as a means of exercise soon blossomed into something of a religious experience—though not in the kooky, New Age-y way, mind you. In His wisdom, God determined that we as His image-bearers should be both body and soul. Or, more simply, humans are what you might call embodied souls. We have a human soul, or spirit, but it is tied inextricably and mysteriously to our physical, human body. We can distinguish between the two, but we cannot divide them entirely and permanently without some lasting consequence. When we die, there is a temporary separation of body and spirit—a separation which will be remedied at the final resurrection, either unto eternal glory or everlasting torment. But in either case, we shall be embodied. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:4, “For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” All that to say, our physical bodies are of the utmost importance, and caring properly for our bodies will yield many benefits—whether physical, mental, or spiritual. “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). Indeed, my physical body benefits tremendously from my weekly swims. My heart health is increased as I flex my cardiovascular system, forcing oxygen-rich blood to pulse throughout my body. My lungs, in tandem with my heart, are forced into a disciplined regimen as they learn to maximize each breath between strokes. And unlike some other workouts, swimming very nearly strains and stretches every muscle in my body as I cut through the water. In my experience, however, these physical benefits pale in comparison to the spiritual riches of swimming. There’s nothing quite like entering that other world beneath the water—the stillness and silence of it, broken only by the soft rhythm of my own breathing and the lapping of the water as it plops and clops against my arms and swim cap. I love the silence of the water; I relish its stillness. Even as the water has taken me into its shimmering fold, I bask and delight likewise in it. It is here that I meet with the Lord—sometimes in prayerful conversation as between two friends, or sometimes in quiet meditation, allowing my thoughts to wander freely upon some knot that my mind has been trying to unspool. On one occasion in particular, only a few laps in, I got to looking around at my surroundings in the pool. Perhaps “looking around” isn’t the best set of words. Indeed, there wasn’t very much to observe, as the pool was cloudier than usual that day—either because of a chemical imbalance, low chlorine, or much-needed cleaning, or all three. All I could see was the roughly foot-wide tiled strip that ran lengthwise up the lane. You might not think it, but swimming, like all exercises, has a lot to do with balance. Even though you are suspended in water while swimming, it’s always important to ensure that your strokes, kicks, and movements are harmonious, or else you will veer too far off to the right, left, or into another swimmer. I swam with a young man in high school whose Olympic trajectory was derailed because he collided with a swimmer going the opposite way, shattering his shoulder—and Olympic dreams—in the process. In an effort to keep my shoulders in one piece, not to mention equally worked, I tended to stick pretty closely to that foot-wide strip. “That’s just like life, isn’t it?” I thought to myself as I swam. Sometimes I talk aloud to myself, but I resorted to thinking aloud on this occasion (on account of being underwater and all that). “Oftentimes, the way before you is cloudy and dark, with dangers to both the right and the left, with hardly a path before one’s feet. Lord, though the Way be narrow, I thank you that there be a way at all, and that your hand leads us gently along it.” “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few” (Matthew 7:13-14). I looked up from the narrow line that I had been following and began to see a shape dimly taking form out of the gloom. As it reached the vertical concrete wall marking the end of my lane, the horizontal strip I had been swimming along began suddenly to make its way up the tiled wall and join arms with another section of tile running the other way. I had never noticed this before—for out of the cloudy water, a cross was taking shape before my eyes, marking the end of my lap. Almost immediately, my mind turned to words from the familiar hymn, “I have decided to follow Jesus; No turning back; no turning back. The cross before me, the world behind me; No turning back, no turning back.” “The cross before me, the world behind me / No turning back, no turning back.” Although if you are lane swimming, you must turn back sooner or later. I suppose all analogies, even the best ones, break down at some point. And so that’s just what I did when I hit the end of my lap—I turned around. I caught my breath, did my flip, and pushed off the tiled wall with all my might and propelled forward into the water, following the narrow, foot-wide strip once more, just as I had done thousands of times before. In that moment, my mind turned to another tune to stave off the fatigue that was quickly setting in. Some years ago, my sisters and I were visiting our aunt and uncle in Florida. The family had three young boys at the time and, presumably, only a single DVD to their name—the animated film Finding Nemo. Each time we loaded ourselves into their minivan to leave the house, no matter whether the destination was five minutes away or an hour, the boys demanded that their favorite movie, Finding Nemo, be turned on (always starting from the very beginning, might I add). I got to know the movie, and one of its popular songs, rather well: “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do? Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, Swimming, swimming, swimming...” A few more seconds of swimming passed by, but the fatigue remained. Just then, awaiting me at the end of the lane as I drew nearer, another cross began taking shape. Another lap, another year—maybe the analogy is sturdier than I supposed. As we make our way through this life, some years and seasons are gloomier than others. We have put our trust in the Lord and in His promises; we are walking the narrow and hard way that leads to life, abiding in His love and in His word. But much of the time, we can scarcely see far off on account of the gloom, let alone have sight to see the twists and turns which lie just beyond our next few weary steps. That is why we must walk by faith, and not by sight. In and out of season, we have to diligently preach the Gospel to ourselves afresh, familiarizing ourselves intimately with its everlasting truths—“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). To stave off spiritual fatigue in all its many forms—unbelief, despair, discouragement, doubt, apathy—the cross must ever be both before as well as behind us. Like Paul, let us endeavor to know nothing in this life “except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2). Elsewhere, Paul says, “But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Galatians 6:14). Along every lap, we must keep our eyes and hearts fixed on the cross, tightly fastening our hope to Him who was fastened there ever so tightly; fastened to the cross not only by Roman nails, but by our sin and His everlasting love for us. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). The more laps around the sun Paul got in, the more he realized he wasn’t the star of the show; that he wasn’t as special or capable as others made him out to be. As he matured, as he grew up into the fullness of the stature of Christ, the more Paul saw of himself as he truly was—and more importantly, the glory of Christ became greater, clearer, and more lovely to his eyes, even as he shrank in comparison. Writer and pastor Scott Sauls once observed this very point: “Read Paul’s letters in the order he wrote them and watch what happens to the way he describes himself. Early on, he calls himself ‘Paul, an apostle.’ Years later, ‘the least of the apostles.’ Later still, ‘the very least of the saints.’ And at the end of his life, in his last letter to Timothy, he writes that ‘Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom he is the worst.’ Notice the trajectory. The longer Paul walked with Christ, the smaller he became in his own estimation.” As you make for a fresh lap, look back at the cross and all that it represents, and then turn your eyes forward and strain with joy for the hope of the cross which will soon be revealed. In everything, bookend your life, thoughts, and affections with the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, even as Paul did. For the way that leads to life is narrow, but not so narrow that two cannot walk it abreast. It was our Lord Himself who promised, “And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). And until your faith becomes sight, just keep swimming. Narrow as the lane may be, you’ve never been in it alone. Photo by Matthew Sichkaruk, Unsplash Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Welcome, my friends, to another edition of News From the Frontlines—a weekly segment on the blog where I strive to highlight articles, essays, podcast episodes, videos, and more, all for your pleasure and encouragement in the Lord. I’ve linked to a wide variety of material today, ranging from a reflection on death and The Lord of the Rings, to God’s purposes in prayer, to whether or not pets will be in Heaven. As with all the work I do here at Iotas in Eternity, my chief hope is that you are blessed by these everyday words and that they may abound to eternal purposes as you read, reflect, and apply the truths therein. News From the Frontlines: Recommended Reading, Listening, & Watching Death, Grief, and Frodo’s Incurable Wound Just as I’ve done many times in my own writing, Zak Mellgren draws from Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings to reflect on the death of a loved one and the hope we have in Christ—providing further proof that The Lord of the Rings is unquestionably the greatest work of imaginative fiction in human history. The Bible Is Never Enough As with last week, I asked my wife to suggest an article for News From the Frontlines. I think I’ll make this a weekly tradition! As a Biblical Counselor, she has many wonderful insights into that world that I think you’ll find encouraging, helpful, and even challenging. Hopefully the title of this week’s article is enough to arouse your curiosity—“Our ancestors rejected God’s Word for golden calves and Greek philosophy. We reject it for far more respectable things: clinical research, therapeutic models, neurobiological frameworks, and the ever-expanding empire of the social sciences.” Saying Goodbye to Moses Randy Alcorn is among my favorite Christian writers—indeed, I owe much of my theology about Heaven to his writing ministry through the years. In this touching piece, Randy reflects on the passing of his dear dog, Moses, and considers the role that animals—and pets in particular—might play in the New Heavens and the New Earth. While the Bible doesn’t explicitly mention God’s purposes for animals in Heaven, I wholeheartedly agree with Randy that certain portions of Scripture, such as Romans 8:19-23, leave the door wide open for such a reality. We shall see! No Service for Jesus Is Small “A meal cooked for a neighbor, a patient interaction with a child, a kind word to a discouraged colleague — each can become an echo of Jesus’s full provision, perfect patience, and infinite kindness to us. When we love and serve others because we’ve already received infinitely more from God, the deed (as simple and mundane as it may seem to be) grows great. What a liberating and hope-giving truth! It blows the dust from our ho-hum days, causing them to sparkle with significance. It means the world is bursting with opportunities for us to act in ways that matter forever.” Writing Is Pain, but Environment Can Help I love reading how other writers, especially good writers, go about the business of writing. Trevin Wax begins by saying, “I often tell aspiring writers that there’s no way to avoid the work. Not if you want to truly write, rather than merely enjoy the afterglow of having written something. Not if you want to really think, rather than dash off an idea and watch generative AI spit out something you can slap your name on.” Ask Whatever I Wish? God’s Unblushing Promises for Prayer Writing for Desiring God, David Mathis writes about God’s design and desire for our prayer lives—a particularly comforting article for those of us who may be in seasons of waiting. “However many unanswered questions we have about prayer, God makes it abundantly clear that he wants us to pray. He doesn’t just stomach our prayers; he delights in them. He invites them. He beckons. He woos. He calls for prayer and reminds us to pray, and works his sovereign angles to elicit our prayers. He wants to hear from his people.” The Importance of Holiness: The Holiness of God with R.C. Sproul Earlier this year, I began reading through The Holiness of God for the second time while also leading our weekly Bible study through R.C.’s six-part video series of the same name. Each episode is about 30 minutes in length and is currently uploaded to Ligonier’s YouTube channel. I’ve linked to the first episode in the series, titled “The Importance of Holiness.” Whether you’re looking for something to listen through on your way to and from work, or in need of material for a small group, I cannot recommend this series highly enough. Photo by Danny Greenberg, Unsplash Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Good evening, everyone. My name is Joshua Budimlic, and I am Dakota’s oldest and only brother. You may recognize me as the man who had the honor of walking Dakota down the aisle only a few short hours ago. And if you don’t recognize me, well, that’s understandable—there’s a handful of you I don’t recognize either. And whether I know you or not, the fact remains that “I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve”—don’t worry, I assure you that works out to a compliment. Also, many of us Budimlic men really do look alike. Whether for better or for worse, I find that we tend to blend together after a while. And now that I think of it—Jonathan, you’ll fit right in. When Dakota was young, she was fiercely independent—almost to a fault—so much so that she spent much of her time as a child playing on her own. This didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Indeed, no one seemed able to keep up with her imagination, and so she spent much time entertaining herself throughout childhood, seemingly content. Anyone who knows Dakota also knows that she is wildly creative and imaginative—she has blossomed into a talented artist and, more recently, a very capable hairstylist as well. Something for which I, and my wallet, am eternally grateful. Some years ago, one of the first things Dakota and I began to bond over was a shared love for books and stories. In particular, we shared a deep, mutual affection for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Before either of us became believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, there was something about Tolkien’s storytelling that drew both Dakota and me into his fictional world, even as we were drawn out of this fallen world. The stories of Middle-Earth, though fictional, cast long shadows beyond themselves onto firmer ground beyond the horizon and around the next bend. As a Christian, Tolkien well understood the power of the written word, of fictional worlds, and stories, and how these various elements—though make-believe—helped point our hearts and imaginations towards the Lord God and the magnificent story He’s telling—a story which Tolkien would often refer to as “the One True Myth.” In His time, the Lord saw it fit to draw Dakota and me into this vast story. What began between us as a love for books soon blossomed into a love for the book, the Bible, and an ever-deepening love for its Author—the Lord Himself, our Savior. I said that Dakota is a fiercely independent and creative individual. That’s true. She’s also a rather reserved individual. Indeed, we must be related. When Dakota gave her life to Christ, being the soft-spoken young woman she is, she took her sweet time telling me that she was now a Christian. But that was hardly of importance—words weren’t necessary to communicate the seismic shift that had taken place in her life and heart. The Bible says that “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” My wife and I have often said to one another that Dakota’s conversion to Christ is one of the sweetest, simplest, and most obvious examples of what it means to repent of sin, cling to Christ, and walk in the newness of life. In the book of 1 John, he writes: “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” I am not Dakota’s father. I am, however, her older brother—and as an older brother, I scarcely have greater joy than to see my little sisters “walking in the truth.” I thank the Lord that He gave me the blessing of my three sisters twice over; first as their older brother in this life, and then as their brother in Christ, both in this life and in the one to come. Words cannot express what an encouragement your faith is to me, Dakota. The sincerity of your affection for God and His word, the way in which you consume books and sermons about the truth, the joy I see beaming from your person day by day, and the love you have for the church, your family, and Jonathan—these virtues will serve you well as you enter this new season of marriage. After Tata went home to be with the Lord, I often felt as though two roles were simultaneously thrust upon me—that of the sole, protective older brother, and something of a father role as well. And while I tried my best to assume these twin roles as “the man of the house” while we all lived together at home, I nonetheless grieve with you, Dakota, that Tata is not here today. No one can truly take his place or step into his shoes, or venture a guess as to what he might say to you and Jonathan on your wedding day. Not even me. But if I know anything about Tata, I know that he would rejoice above all that you are “walking in the truth,” that you are pursuing hard after Christ and pursuing a godly man of whom the very same can be said. This was his chief prayer for all of us as his children. If Tata were here, I suspect it would be at about this point that he’d turn the conversation to God and His word. Even before Tata passed away, it was our Heavenly Father who was—and is, and ever will be—our true father, the One to whom all the very best fathers dimly point. It’s Christ who, though He is Lord and God over all, was the perfect elder brother to you and your sisters, whether in the best or worst of times. Whatever God’s reasons were for taking Tata home when He did, we can most certainly say it was in large part that we may come to know Him better as Brother, Father, and Lord. In Ephesians 5, however, we find the most unexpected truth of all: that those in Christ are not only sons and daughters of the Most High, not simply brothers and sisters in Christ; but the mystery of mysteries, we as the church are Christ’s bride. Paul concludes his discourse on marriage in Ephesians 5 by going all the way back to Genesis, to the very dawn of creation, when he says: “‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.” This is a profound mystery, indeed. Dakota, as Jonathan’s wife, it is now your joyful, God-given duty to submit to him as your husband out of a sincere, loving reverence for Christ as Lord, even as He submitted to the Father in joyful obedience. Jonathan, as Dakota’s husband, you now have the weighty responsibility of imitating Christ in your marriage—to lead and love sacrificially, to be responsible and accountable before the Lord; to provide, protect, and pray for your family as their shepherd under Christ, the true good Shepherd. I am not your father, Dakota. But if he were here, I suspect he would say to you and Jonathan many of the very same things I’ve just said, for there are scarcely more profound words on marriage to be found than those in Ephesians 5. Were he here, Tata would have pointed you towards Christ and His word, and I hope I’ve done just that. Marriage is a high calling, one of the highest; and it is a joyful calling, one of the most joyful. Tata would have been so very proud of the young, godly woman you’ve become, and he would have loved the man you’ve chosen as your husband. I look forward to the day when we’ll see him again. To the day when I will no longer have to speak on his behalf because he will be there to speak for himself. Like you, I long to be reunited and gathered home together as a family once more—not as Tata’s children, but as brothers and sisters in Christ, and as sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father. Once there, we will all take part, alongside Tata and all the redeemed, in the marriage feast of the Lamb—then we will see this thing we call marriage as it truly is. But until that day, Jonathan and Dakota, love the Lord, submit to Him, and serve Him with all your heart as you seek to love and serve one another in Him. And always remember that you are loved. You are loved by your many friends and family, by your Tata, by your Heavenly Father, by Christ your elder brother, and by me, your other big brother. Truly, I love you both. Photo by ashleyphotography.ca Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Welcome to News From the Frontlines! Over the past several years at Iotas in Eternity, I have been so heavily focused on content creation that I’ve sorely neglected content curation. As the saying goes, “No man is an island.” In like fashion, no one reads, writes, or learns in a bubble. Much of what I write here at Iotas in Eternity flows directly downstream from the wisdom and insight I glean from the many authors, thinkers, and fellow believers that I am so indebted to on a daily basis—a few of whom you will rub shoulders with today if you interact with any of the articles or videos I have linked to. The follower of Christ is engaged in a ruthless, day-to-day battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil. We do, however, fight as those with hope—for our Lord has emerged victorious from the grave, having seized power from the jaws of the serpent, swallowing up death itself in the process with glorious life. Nonetheless, as Christians we are at times grieved and weighed down by the many sorrows and sighs of life in this fallen world, in need of frequent encouragement and refreshment from the wellspring of God’s word. Lord willing, my smithy of words here at Iotas in Eternity has been a blessing to you, serving as words fitly spoken on your journey towards home. I am, however, just one man. This new segment on the blog, News From the Frontlines, aims to do just that—to bring you news and encouragement from around the spiritual battlefield—from the very frontlines—where faithful brothers and sisters of Christ are busy about drawing the Sword of the Spirit in warfare against all manner of darkness, sin, evil, and decay. My aim will be to share seven links each week on Saturday morning, be it blog posts, articles, essays, videos—or really anything I find to be good, true, and beautiful. Seven is a well-rounded, Biblical number and, conveniently, works out to one recommendation for every day of the week. While some of this week’s links are from the past few days or weeks, most of them are from some point in the last year or so—think of it as my way of honoring the believers who have shaped me as we enter into what I hope will be the first of many News From the Frontlines. Enjoy! News From the Frontlines: Recommended Reading, Listening, & Watching She Died Too Soon Tim Challies has been a tremendous encouragement—and inspiration—to me over the years, both as a believer and as a writer. And so, it’s only fitting to honor him with the foremost article in the first-ever News From the Frontlines. Amid the hundreds of his articles I’ve read at this point, this one has always remained close to my heart—“Of all the mysteries in this universe, few are more perplexing than the mystery of God’s sovereignty over life and death. Why do some live to so advanced an age while others barely live at all? Why are some who display such promise taken before they can deploy their gifts? Why does God call some early to heaven who surely could have done so much good on earth? Why God, we ask? Why?” You Become What You Read As a reader and writer, this is a particularly encouraging article—and indeed, one of my favorites from the past year. “First, we must realize that though we often read by ourselves, we never read alone. When you open up a book, you sit down with an author. The book is fundamentally a technology of conversation; it fosters the meeting of minds across time and space. The written word captures something of the author and, when read, conjures him.” Fear Not Fatherhood: The Glory and Strength of Young Dads As a young dad myself, I deeply appreciated Andrew Ballard’s article about fatherhood over at Desiring God. “Young kids during my own youth are God’s greatest gift to me. If he has given me the greater gift of children, I can trust him for the lesser necessities. But even more than this: Fellow young dads, if you are discouraged at the daunting task of building your own house, rejoice that God has built his. If he took care of his Messiah, he can take care of his Millennials. So, pursue marriage, count children as blessings, work heartily in all your efforts, and eat the bread of grateful toil.” Stealing Time: The One Theft You Cannot Restitute This article by Kendall Lankford remains one of the most sobering and convicting I’ve read all year—“There is a reason Psalm 31:15 is so arresting: ‘My times are in your hand.’ Not my future is in your hand, though it is. Not my fate is in your hand, though it is. My times. The days themselves. The mornings and the evenings, the Tuesdays and the Decembers, the decades shaped like question marks. David isn’t only expressing comfort, though there is enormous comfort here. He is expressing ownership. These days are not mine to begin with. They have been pressed into my hands like a merchant pressing gold coins into the palm of a steward and saying: Manage this well. I’ll be back.” The Quiet Theology of “All Creatures Great and Small” Elaina and I have thoroughly enjoyed the PBS show All Creatures Great and Small over the past year. Thus, it was a pleasant surprise to see such a warm, thoughtful reflection on the show over at Gospel Centered Discipleship: “All Creatures Great and Small invites us to slow down and notice that life rarely becomes meaningful through extraordinary moments. More often, it unfolds through ordinary faithfulness—receiving the place we’ve been given and loving well within it. Tomorrow. And then the day after that. Not as proof of our goodness but as grace received.” June is a Month for Marriage June is indeed the month for marriage—in fact, my little sister’s wedding is today! As I was throwing together this new segment, I asked my wife if she had any articles to suggest. She and I exchange articles, podcast episodes, and sermons regularly, and I am thankful that she decided to pass this post my way—Lord willing it is a blessing to you as well. Leah writes, “Over the years, we’ve piled up so many scraps, leftovers of attempts to build in our own wisdom, at the cross of Christ with a sheepish, ‘We tried to do it ourselves. Could You please fix this?’ And like a loving elder Brother, He quietly sets to work repairing the inept handiwork of His foolish younger siblings, returning it to us with a kind, ‘Try not to break it again.’ Somehow, we keep finding more things to break and be repaired. But He is patient. And receiving the better-made craftsmanship of our Lord is teaching us to rejoice in the beauty of a humble, given life. It is better than what we could have manufactured, ourselves.” You Should WANT Christianity To Be True In this video from his YouTube channel, Truth Unites, Gavin Ortlund explains not so much why Christianity is true—which it is—but why you should want it to be true. Photo by Ashni, Unsplash Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

In a fallen world, hospitals are perplexing places. They can represent the very best of times, such as the birth of a child, and the very worst of times, as with the death of a loved one. Indeed, life and death are so often held in the palms of a simple hospital bed. Begun originally by Christians in whichever culture the people of God found themselves—cultures that unashamedly abandoned the weak and sick to the whims of nature—hospitals were instituted with the express purpose of preserving life. Those caretakers within hospital walls were to perform lifesaving operations, treat deadly illnesses, and, of course, deliver children. As societal institutions, hospitals themselves flow directly downstream from the principles championed in the “Hippocratic Oath”—the “Do no harm” principle adopted by medical doctors and other healthcare professionals. However, as already aforementioned, we yet still live in a fallen world, and sometimes death—seemingly—prevails, even against our best wishes and most earnest prayers. It’s funny how when something in particular is on your mind, you begin to see that particular something everywhere. Are you looking to buy a certain make of car? Well, guess which type of vehicle you’ll begin seeing all over town—almost as though advertisers were targeting you. Similarly, in the weeks leading up to the birth of our son, it seemed as though any movie or television show my wife and I watched also featured a pregnant woman or a storyline about the birth of a child. The most notable of these examples being Lost, a television show about survivors of a plane crash on a mysterious island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Speaking of hospitals, do you know the last place you might find one? A desert island. As you can imagine, this presents something of a problem, particularly if you only just barely walked away alive from a plane crash. And even among those who survived the crash with only minor scrapes and bruises, medical care is still necessary from time to time. Indeed, as with everyday societal life, people get sick, they suffer injury, or, like twenty-something Claire, they are a young woman nearing the end of their third trimester. One of the main characters in the show, Jack Shephard, is a spinal surgeon who quickly becomes the established leader among the castaways, lending his skills as a doctor to the many life-and-death situations that arise on the island. He is, however, just one man; a man with sparse and rudimentary equipment at best, only a handful of medications—and no hospital to speak of. All these factors—the harsh conditions of the island, the fragility of life, and Jack’s limitations as both a doctor and leader—come to a tragic head near the end of Lost’s first season. In what is undoubtedly one of the show’s finest episodes, life and death hang in the balance as Jack attempts to perform haphazard surgery on a young man, Boone, who has suffered a terrible fall. At the same time, pregnant Claire goes into sudden, unexpected labor only a few hundred feet away in a nearby patch of jungle. Jack, the only doctor on the deserted island, can’t be in both places at once. The episode is named fittingly: “Do No Harm.” Perspectives shift back and forth between characters as the dual drama unfolds. The primary focus is on Jack as he exhausts every iota of his medical knowledge in an effort to save the young man, going so far as to personally give a blood transfusion to Boone while simultaneously performing surgery on him. Meanwhile, Kate, another castaway, aids Claire with the birth of her baby not far from where Boone is slowly dying. Despite his best efforts and medical acumen, Boone’s life slips from Jack’s hands even as Kate helps bring a new life into the world. One life begins almost as swiftly as another draws to a close—“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2). Haunting the scenes as they flit between life and death is Michael Giacchino’s equally haunting score, concluding the episode with a song most appropriately titled “Life and Death.” In a fallen world, hospitals are perplexing places. I had this thought a few weeks ago as my wife and I sat in our room at Cambridge Memorial Hospital. It was, truly, the very best of times—our son, our firstborn, had just entered into the world. It was in that moment, and in the days which followed, that I tasted over and over again a joy I had never before thought possible. And yet, now and again, even as I sat holding my boy in my arms for the first time, I felt a tug on my heart reminding me of the worst of times—the passing of my father. A passing that, in God’s providence, had taken place in the very same building only a few years before. Hospitals are indeed perplexing places. For where else in all the world can a child be born only a few hundred feet from where their own father was born? From where their grandfather passed away? Where else can one life begin almost as swiftly as another draws to a close? How can one building—a single hospital—hold within it so many conflicting memories? I vividly remember the moon-stained clouds and billowing smokestacks that greeted my family on our way out from Cambridge Memorial’s cancer wing the night my father went home to be with the Lord. It was as though there were a shadowy veneer drawn tightly across the world to match the sorrow we found ourselves wading through as a family. And I will never forget how, eight years later and a few hundred feet over in the Labour and Delivery ward, golden light seeped through the windows on a warm May evening when my son was born. Light and life and warmth and a gentle breeze rubbing shoulders with the first of Spring’s flowers welcomed my son as he awoke softly in this fallen, staggeringly beautiful world. Life and death; sunlight and shadow—sometimes, it would seem, the world around imitates the world within. With a post like this, it’s typically around this point that I bring together the various threads I’ve begun to weave, drawing into tighter focus some larger thoughts and reflections on life, death, and the sovereign purposes of God in both. Only, I’m not going to do that this time. Not how I usually do, that is. The death of a father, the birth of a son—many things can be said, perhaps many of which have been said already, whether here or elsewhere. Sometimes, however, it is best to speak little—“a time to keep silence, and a time to speak” (Ecclesiastes 3:7). Sometimes, it is best to let grief breathe; best to let the weight and sorrow of life in a fallen world sit heavily for a moment rather than rush to explain it all away with reflections and lessons which, however precise, are of little help in the heart of the moment. Because we serve a sovereign God, there is no such thing as suffering without purpose—it’s true. Indeed, there’s no such thing as anything without some ultimate purpose: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). God is good, and He works all things out for His good pleasure, even that which is bad, detestable, and utterly inconceivable. As Joseph said to his brothers after a lifetime of riding the bull that is God’s providence, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today” (Genesis 50:20). However, just because there’s always a purpose—some ultimate why—behind our suffering, sorrow, and grief, that doesn’t mean we are always privy to the explanation. And sometimes even when God does reveal to us the why of our suffering, or some part of it, that doesn’t necessarily absolve the pain of it—nor, in my opinion, should it. There is a certain Christlikeness to embracing sorrow—“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). As He stood outside the tomb of Lazarus in John 11, Christ knew what He was about to do. He knew that everything was going to be alright, that the dead man would come to life again, both in the coming moments and in the everlasting hereafter. And yet, John tells us that the Lord “was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” (John 11:33) because of the death of His friend and the heartache that such a thief introduced into the lives of those around Him. To the delight of Sunday School children everywhere who are tasked with memorizing Scripture, we are told in the Bible’s shortest verse that “Jesus wept” (John 11:35) outside the tomb of Lazarus. Jesus Himself—the One who at the end of all things stoops to wipe away forever the tears from the eyes of His children—wept with no one to dry His face. Knowing that all will be well in the end is not a reason to entirely forgo weeping in the moment. We must weep as those who have hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). No one possesses more joy than the Lord Jesus Christ; and yet no one in all of human history has drunk as deeply from the bitter wells of sorrow as He has. I know, down to the very bedrock of my being, that all will be well in the end because of the Lord Jesus Christ and His Gospel—abundantly, infinitely well. I also know that things must be made well because a great many things are currently so terribly unwell. If everything were already alright, there would be nothing for Christ to set right upon His return. I can, and will, grieve over what sin and death have taken from me because of how contrary and intrusive these twin evils are to the heart of God and the joy of His people. I can grieve over the fallenness of this world and all that stems from it because the Lord Himself grieves over it—with hope. With hope of that future, glorious deliverance which He shall surely bring to pass. Because of the Gospel, I can joyfully and confidently mourn the unhappy reality that my Tata wasn’t here to see me become a Tata myself. I don’t know why God has allowed this to be so, but He did. In the best of times, I can see dimly lit shadows and hear far-off echoes of what He is doing, but I find that, at most, I am only skirting the edges of His wisdom. And so, in the meantime, I will grieve as one who has hope. I will grieve with a hope that looks ahead to a New Heavens and a New Earth where all these former things—death, illness, hospitals—have passed away. My faith is set on that happy, immovable future where death has been swallowed up by life, where hospitals have been torn down and replaced with mansions—where sons and fathers and grandfathers leave behind such dusty titles and, as brothers in Christ, embrace one another before the throne of their Heavenly Father. Photo by Ricardo Resende, Unsplash Author’s Note: If you enjoyed this post, I would recommend reading this one as well: “For Everything There is a Seasoning.” Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). The Romantic period was a time of unprecedented political, cultural, and artistic upheaval. It was also a time of staggering contradictions, wherein technological advancements promised prosperity to many, all the while children and slaves were crushed under the boot of ‘Enlightenment’ ideals. Just as the Industrial Revolution was ushering Europe into a new age, so too were the Romantic writers, such as Wordsworth and Blake, striving towards a future that more closely reflected Britain’s supposed profession of Christianity. Chief among the writers and activists of the day was John Newton, slave-trader turned Christian abolitionist and esteemed hymn-writer of “Amazing Grace.” By examining Newton’s A Slave Trader’s Journal, “Amazing Grace,” and other abolitionist texts, it will become clear that Britain’s orientation as a slave trading nation was not only incompatible with her Christian profession, but contradictory of the Bible itself. Indeed, Newton’s slow and incremental conversion to Christianity, and his subsequent rejection of the slave trade, is reflective of Britain’s own change of heart towards slavery in the midst of her self-professed Christianity. Only by first examining the roots of racism and colonialism in Britain will Newton’s own conversion to true Christianity shine all the brighter and frame the trajectory for Britain’s own slow, albeit mighty, conversion. In order to understand Newton’s pro-slavery sentiments as a young man, one must first grasp Britain’s own colored past with racism, colonialism, and imperialism. As Britain was coming out of the Middle-Ages, she became imbued with a profound sense of cultural and religious superiority, largely predicated on her self-professed identity as a Christian nation (Callan 1). As a ‘Christian’ nation, Britain felt justified in all her imperialist pursuits, believing herself to be the righteous arm of God extending across the nations (15). Britain’s sense of superiority becomes blatantly clear in her invasion of Ireland; a nation that, seemingly, was indistinguishable from the white, Christian nation of Britain herself. Since there were no obvious racial justifications for the British invasion of Ireland, the Crown conjured up religious objections to Ireland’s practice of Christianity to justify their imperialist aims (2). According to Britain, Ireland had fallen from the faith and this alone justified invasion. By painting the Irish as “Christians in name, pagans in fact,” the British set the stage for what would become the impetus for all future colonial endeavours in Africa, Asia, Australia, and the Americas (3, 13). In Britain’s estimation, the Irish were “a savage and sacrilegious race, hostile to God and humanity” (3). This disposition towards other nations, one of religious and ethnic superiority, fueled British colonial efforts around the world, climaxing in the transatlantic slave trade. This undercurrent of racism that, mingled with a form of Christianity, spurred the British invasion of Ireland in the 12th century was thriving in the lifetime of Newton. As a young man, Newton became well acquainted with both sailing and the slave trade, insomuch that by the time he was only twenty-eight he was commanding his own slave trading vessel (Black et al. 731). By this time in Britain, however, the ‘type’ of racism that predicated her invasion of Ireland had morphed into a version of ‘Christian colourism,’ wherein light skin came to represent goodness and purity, contrasted with dark skin that symbolizes sin, darkness, and death (Callan 5-6). In this way, religion became weaponized against those who did not fit the ethnocentric mold of white, Christian Europeans—weaponized against the black population in particular. According to Callan, “racism partnered with religion,” creating an us-and-them mentality between Britain and the rest of the world which fueled both societal and colonial expansion, resulting in widespread oppression (10). When racism becomes partnered with religion in this way, it results in a type of colonialism that sees itself as both the savior and scourge of the nation or peoples being invaded, as was the case during the slave trade. Understandably, this twisted view results in people, particularly British slave traders of the time, concluding that the individuals they are enslaving are less than human. In Newton’s A Slave Trader’s Journal, this disposition becomes devastatingly clear. Newton writes about the slaves on his ship as though they were mere cargo or beasts, often lending greater focus to their physical abilities or price than their identities as men and women made in the image of the God he claims to believe in (Newton 731). Indeed, when burying a slave that died, Newton cannot be bothered to refer to him by name, simply calling him “a man slave (No. 84)” (731). During their voyage, Newton expresses anxiety over the hygiene of the slaves not because he cares for their well-being, but because he is “much afraid of another ravage from the flux” which has already claimed several victims (731). As one might expect, these victims are not mourned as humans, but as lost profits and mere numbers. As Newton writes nonchalantly in his journal, “Buried a girl slave (No. 92)” (731). Indeed, Newton’s cavalier attitude towards the abuse of slaves, particularly female slaves, is extremely distressing. Newton recalls an episode where “William Cooney seduced a woman slave down into the room and lay with her brutelike in the view of the whole quarter deck” (731). Newton is distressed at this event not because of the slave woman’s inherent value as a human being, but because of the economic loss he may suffer if “anything happens to the woman… for she was big with child. Her number is 83…” (731). Once again, Newton cannot be troubled to remember this slave woman’s name, worrying only about his personal gain and reputation in the midst of such vile sin. What is more distressing is the fact that on “some ships, the common sailors are allowed to have intercourse” with such slaves as they choose, thus displaying utter contempt at the humanity of these women (Falconbridge 734). In this way, the state of Newton’s own soul, and that of other proponents of slavery, reflected his contempt not only for his fellow man, but for Christianity as well. However, just as the tides began to turn in Britain away from slavery, so too were things changing in Newton’s own heart. Before setting out on his fourth slave trading voyage, Newton fell ill and was prevented from taking to the sea again (Bilbro 571). Providence would have it that, in the midst of his illness of both body and soul, Newton heard the revered George Whitefield preach—thus commencing his own conversion to true Christianity (571). In fact, Newton’s conversion, and his subsequent change of heart, paved the way for the road that Britain herself would soon follow. Newton’s conversion, like Britain’s, was slow and arduous. Though Newton left the slave trade in 1754 after hearing Whitefield preach, it would be years until he fully grasped the depths of his own depravity and the evils of the slave trade (571). In 1754, Newton regarded the slave trade merely as “disagreeable,” only to amend this statement in later years when he admitted that it was “unlawful and wrong,” ultimately being convicted that the slave trade was “so iniquitous, so cruel, so oppressive, so destructive” (572). Like many other believers in Britain during the height of the slave trade, Newton came to his senses gradually. Indeed, many British Christians during this period were slow to embrace slavery reform despite the base hypocrisy that such an ideology had in light of holy Scripture (566, 571). It was around this time that Newton penned “Amazing Grace,” a hymn that stands not only as one of the greatest ever written, but as a testament to Newton’s own conversion—one of darkness to light, from blindness to sight. In it, Newton captures his own blindness—and that of Britain’s—quite brilliantly: “Amazing grace! how sweet the sound, / That saved a wretch like me! / I once was lost, but now am found / Was blind, but now I see” (575). Indeed, the great darkness that had hung for so long over Britain was slowly beginning to wane, and the true light was now shining forth. Just as God commanded in the beginning that there should be light in the midst of outer darkness, to bind and cast out that very darkness, so too did the light of knowledge and truth begin to dawn on Britain: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). Newton’s conversion had rung so mightily throughout his own soul that he became utterly convinced that no Christian, indeed no man of any creed, could remain ignorant of the slave trade’s stench and evil. Like anyone who goes from darkness into light, from blindness to sight, Newton began to have grave misgivings about his past life as a slave trader. Of his own ignorance, and that of his fellow slave traders, Newton admitted “that neither he nor any of his friends had had any notion” that slavery was indeed a great evil (Black et al. 730). The conviction that the slave trade was evil and antithetical to Christianity may have begun with men like Whitefield and Newton, but soon this sentiment was general over all of Britain. Truly, “Then he touched their eyes... And their eyes were opened” (Matthew 9:29-30). William Wilberforce, a member of Parliament and militant opponent of slavery, vocalized over all of Britain that the slave trade was not only a great evil, but a plague to her citizens and the people of Africa as well (Wilberforce 735). Wilberforce’s influence on the British public cannot be dismissed, nor can Newton’s influence on his life, as he was instrumental in Wilberforce’s conversion to Christianity (Bilbro 560). In this way, Newton’s own conversion led to the conversion of Britain herself, wherein his own experience soon became that of Britain’s. The Romantic period in Britain was not only a time of significant cultural and artistic change, but it was an era that ushered in lasting change. Indeed, the work and works of the Romantic writers, men like Newton himself, changed their society in such magnificent ways that the effects of their labor are still being echoed in our own time. The lasting impact of the Romantic writers during the abolition movement sought to remind Britain of her commitment to God and the truth, and in this way brought about her conversion to true Christianity as she shrugged off the vices of racism and slavery. The great light that dawned in Newton’s soul soon spread across the entirety of Britain—“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). This same light continues to shine today as we too wrestle with injustice, cruelty, and sin; as we strive to secure a voice for the voiceless of our own age, just as Newton had done. However, though the battle rages on, we must have hope. Hope that, like Newton once wrote, “Tis’ grace has brought [us] safe thus far, / And grace will lead [us] home.” References: Bilbro, Jeffrey. “Who Are Lost and How They're Found: Redemption and Theodicy in Wheatley, Newton, and Cowper.” Early American Literature, vol. 47 no. 3, 2012, p. 561-589. Project MUSE, https://doi.org/10.1353/eal.2012.0054. Callan, Maeve. “A Savage and Sacrilegious Race, Hostile to God and Humanity.” The Journal of Medieval Religious Cultures, vol. 49, no. 1, 2023, pp. 1-23. Black, Joseph, et al., editors. The Broadview Anthology of British Literature: The Age of Romanticism. Third Edition, Broadview Press, 2022. Falconbridge, Alexander. “Account of the Slave Trade on the Coast of Africa.” The Broadview Anthology of British Literature: The Age of Romanticism. Edited by Black et al., Third Edition, Broadview Press, 2022, 733-734. Newton, John. “A Slave Trader’s Journal”. The Broadview Anthology of British Literature: The Age of Romanticism. Edited by Black et al., Third Edition, Broadview Press, 2022, 731-732. Wilberforce, William. “Speech to the House of Commons.” The Broadview Anthology of British Literature: The Age of Romanticism. Edited by Black et al., Third Edition, Broadview Press, 2022, 735-736. Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

At Iotas in Eternity, it has not been, nor will it ever be, my desire to chase trends and fleeting headlines. Does this mean that my work may be viewed less than it otherwise would be? Perhaps—but so be it. Every iota—each word, jot, and tittle—will be accounted for and weighed out in the end. Words here or there on their own, though minute and easily passed over, will become a mighty company should enough of their members come alongside them. For though a grain of sand be small, among the smallest of all things, what is a great swath of beach but the consistent, faithful accumulation of tiny grains of sand over time? For good or for ill, great things often stem from small beginnings. For my part, I would rather be faithful over little, than unfaithful in much. Since beginning to write regularly a few years ago, my chief desire has always been to write those things that are true. Things that are not simply true for today, mind you, but things that were true 100 years ago, 1,000 years ago, and which will continue to be true 10,000 years from now and forever thereafter. When I stand before the Lord Jesus Christ at the end of my life—as we all will—I want to stand tall and joyful knowing I had done all within my ability to serve Him and His body faithfully with the truth and with those things He kindly entrusted to me, whether it was little or much. The Lord has given me everyday words with which to work my craft. It is my utmost desire to stretch and strain those everyday words for eternal purposes—for His glory and for your good. Thus, Iotas in Eternity. And, should no one save the Lord Himself read my work—well, He is audience enough for me! (For more about the name of my blog, Iotas in Eternity, and why I write, click here). As I consider the time given to me, whether it be little or much, it is more than ever my desire to write more and to write better. This pursuit, in addition to my work as a teacher and caring for my small—though growing!—family, lends itself well to help from others. That’s where you come in. Would you consider supporting my work at Iotas in Eternity? Should you feel led to bless my work as a writer with a monthly gift—of any amount—I warmly welcome you to visit my Patreon page for Iotas in Eternity (simply click here). By becoming a paid member (or Patron), your monthly gift of any amount will enable me to continue doing on this blog what I’ve always worked to do: bless my readers with everyday words for eternal purposes. Keep in mind that without any monetary support, I will continue writing unto the Lord and for His church. He is worthy, and there is scarcely a thing I enjoy more than having the honour of serving others through the written word. Indeed, nothing short of death will keep me from writing; have no fear, I’m not going anywhere! Nonetheless, your support would be a tremendous encouragement, one that I will strive to steward faithfully as I continue to provide for my family and cover miscellaneous blogging costs (paying for a domain, email marketing, expanding Iotas in Eternity, and the like). Should you choose to support my writing at this time, I can’t promise you much more than that which I’ve already given—my heart, my words, and as many jewels as I can dig up from God’s word. Down the road I would love to bless my supporters and subscribers with special offers or premium benefits, all the while keeping my work free for others. I hope these perks will come with time, though not quite yet. What I can promise each of you, however, is that I will continue to polish nuggets of gold from those things I read, see, and experience until they shine brightly for your reading pleasure. And above all, to encourage you best as I am able with unfading truth from the word of our Lord. If you’ve been blessed and encouraged by my writing through the years, I humbly invite you to walk alongside me in this exciting adventure. Though, of course, there is no pressure to do so—not now, not ever. And as always, the very best support you can offer me remains the very thing many of you have already done: reading my words, encouraging me with warm words of your own, and sharing my writing with others. My friends, if not for this encouragement, I may have ceased writing long ago—you know who you are, and you have my heart and abundant thanks. Thank you, my friends, for this great kindness you’ve done me by welcoming my words into your minds, homes, and hearts. I look forward with immense joy to serving you and our Lord in the years to come with everyday words for eternal purposes. Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Behold, a son! In my most recent post, Worship While You Wait, I wrote about the importance of doing just that: waiting well upon the Lord, season by season, and worshipping Him with confidence as you do so. In His providence—and perhaps, good humor—the Lord saw it fit that the time of our waiting for the arrival of our son should come to an end the very next day, thrusting Elaina and me into a new season—one that shall never truly come to an end, though it will take on different shades and hues as the years pass by. I’ve often remarked that I feel my wife and I have always been married. It didn’t take long for us to settle into the new rhythms demanded by marriage; so much so that, after only a few months, I felt hard-pressed to remember what single life was like. We were young, no more than loosely stuck in our ways, rather mature, and deeply in love—and above all, the Lord was for our marriage. This made the transition from engagement into living life together as one rather easy and altogether joyful for the two of us. I fully realize this may not be everyone’s experience, but I praise God that it has been and continues to be ours. After seeing and holding my son for the first time, a similar change came over me. Our son was born only a few days ago, and already I cannot possibly imagine our little family without him. I am a father, and cannot think of my life outside of this new, joyful reality—“The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). I’ve been meaning to write something about my son’s arrival for a few days now, but each time I set my mind to the work, the words seem to come up short, if any words come at all. Words, for all their charms and depths, are of little use here. If you are a parent, surely you know what I mean. Or, rather, I now know what you have meant all these years. Throughout my life, I’ve been hearing from parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, and all manner of friends and distant relations that something beautiful—something altogether expected and yet, somehow, unexpected—envelopes you as a parent the first time you hold and behold your child—behold, a son! I can’t quite put it into words, but suffice it to say, I get it now. We are so very in love with him, more than we ever thought possible. Parents—you were right! The past few days have been some of the most tiring and yet most joyful of our lives. Indeed, there is nowhere else I’d rather be and nothing else I’d rather be doing. To faithfully steward this role of husband and father, given to me by the Giver of all good things, is the great privilege of my life. Our little man keeps us busy with his shenanigans, at times summoning his inner King Darius—“no diversions were brought to him, and sleep fled from him” (Daniel 6:18). But through it all, we rejoice in the incalculable gift that he is to us and many others, delighting already in the little bits of his personality that shine through all his ways. In the days and years to come, please pray for us as we seek to raise our son “in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4). And above all, we give all glory to our great God and Father, and to our Lord Jesus Christ, who has been so, so very near and so very good to us. “Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!” —Psalm 127:3-5 Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.

Benjamin Franklin, one of America’s Founding Fathers, was also the father of many popular idioms. Writing under the pseudonym Poor Richard as something of a secular Solomon, Franklin gave away many pearls of modern wisdom. These pearls include: “Well done is better than well said,” “Haste makes waste,” and most famously, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” True enough. For a time, however, thoughts of death—though not death itself—can be avoided and even taxes evaded (despite garnering devastating consequences in either case). Waiting, by contrast, can scarcely be dodged and is nigh universal to the human experience. Indeed, to wait is to be human. It is the great equalizer; common to kings, beggars, geniuses, and simpletons alike. As my wife and I anticipate the birth of our son in only a few days, my thoughts have often turned to the Lord’s manifold purposes in seasons of waiting—waiting for an answer to prayer, for an open door, for healing, for relief, for employment, for retirement, for a child to come, for a child to return, and all else between. So much of life is waiting; surely the Lord would have us do it well. He does nothing without purpose. Thus, we should endeavor to wait—even wait!—with purpose ourselves, knowing that this is a gift from His hands. Indeed, as with all things,—“So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31)—the Lord expects us to worship while we wait. To wait is to be human. To wait well, however, is to be Christian. Throughout the Bible, God’s people were no strangers to the wilderness of waiting. For if you remember, the nation of Israel wandered about this particular wilderness for a generation. In His wisdom, God often calls His people to wait with no off-ramp in sight. Abraham was well-advanced in years before he received the child of God’s promise from many years before; for decades, Moses tended to livestock in the wilderness before God suddenly tasked him with tending to the people of Israel through another wilderness for several decades more; David faithfully and courageously led sheep as a youth before God, through many trials and snares, established him as the leader of a nation; even Jesus Himself, the Captain of our salvation, worked as a carpenter in near obscurity for thirty years before He began His earthly ministry. For each of these men, prolonged waiting wasn’t merely a crucible to be endured, but a season to be embraced as God prepared them for those seasons to come. Waiting and faith so often go hand in hand. Alongside faith, waiting is a prominent theme in Hebrews 11. For what does it mean to have faith but to wait well upon the Lord and worship Him while doing so? As the inspired writer puts it, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). By faith, though Abraham could not see far off, “No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God” (Romans 4:20). Waiting, like faith, is not passive—but active. Though he was in a season of strenuous waiting, Abraham’s faith in the Lord grew strong in direct proportion to his worship of the Lord—“he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God.” Like Abraham, we must be “fully convinced that God [is] able to do what he [promised]” (Romans 4:21). By faith, the people of God place their hope on the bedrock of His unchanging, perfect character. Circumstances and fortunes change, but we worship, even in our waiting, the living God who does not change—“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17). Indeed, we can wait unto the glory of God because “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). Downstream of our faith is so often some form of waiting. Not idleness, but waiting; worship-filled waiting that seeks to be faithful in the present, all the while looking ahead with unshakeable certainty to the promises of God for the future. By faith, though the Old Testament saints waited all their lives for the promise of God, “These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were seeking a homeland... But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:13-16). We so often think of waiting as that dreadful time in between seasons when, in fact, waiting is a God-ordained season unto itself. Waiting is not so much that perilous gap between seasons solely to be endured, as much as it is a vital time in its own right meant to equip us for that which is to come, “so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7). Much like trials and suffering, God’s purposes in our prolonged waiting, though perhaps mysterious, are by no means aimless. And so, rather than strain with all our might for a peek beyond the next horizon, and in so doing be found idle where we are, let us wait well. “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7), and in the midst of your asking, seeking, and knocking, worship while you wait. The Lord Jesus Christ is not aloof in our waiting. As the Alpha and the Omega, He is the Beginning and the End and all things that lie in between. Photo by John Tyson, Unsplash Would you enjoy reading more of my work? Subscribe by simply scrolling to the bottom of this page and entering your email. All future articles, essays, and short stories will be sent directly to the address provided. However, be sure to check your ‘Junk’ or ‘Spam’ folder and mark me as a trusted contact should my posts fail to appear in your email. If you’ve been encouraged by my writing, I’d be humbled if you shared my work with others who may also benefit from reading. And, if you’re looking for a way to support my work financially, you can do so via my Patreon Page.