The Top Shelf: Best Reads of 2012 Edition

As 2012 draws to a close, the interwebs are flooded with year-end lists: the best-dressed, the worst-dressed, the best and worst movies, the most memorable moments, etc. I am not in a position to offer an opinion on the best books of 2012, since I don't keep up with the latest publications, but I did make my own list--the best books I read in 2012, broken up by genre--which was recently posted on Schaeffer's Ghost. Here's an excerpt:

Best Romance: A Long Fatal Love Chase, by Louisa May Alcott 

Did you know that Louisa May Alcott, she of the quaintly wholesome Little Women, also wrote insanely outlandish romance novels? Well, she did, and they are awesome. A Long Fatal Love Chase is full of improbably named villains with nefarious intentions and a lovely heroine whose flight from said villain takes her from yacht to convent to mental institution, through an assortment of disguises, forbidden love, and daring escapes. In short, it is flat out bonkers, and I loved every minute of it. 

Honorable Mention: A Modern Mephistopheles, by Louisa May Alcott

Full post available here.

The Bruised Reed, by Richard Sibbes

***

This exposition of Isaiah 42:3 ("A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench . . .") is, I believe, Sibbes' best known work. It has been consistently praised by theologians and preachers I respect and seems to be very highly regarded by all who've read it.

Except me, apparently.

Honestly, I found it rather underwhelming. Maybe I've just heard it talked up too much; maybe my expectations were unreasonably high. Whatever the reason, this book was kind of a letdown for me.

A Token for Mourners: or, The Advice of Christ to a Distressed Mother, by John Flavel (in Works of John Flavel, Volume 5)

***

Really more of a three-and-a-half star book.  In other words, better than The Touchstone of Sincerity and Navigation Spiritualized; not as good as Husbandry Spiritualized or A Saint Indeed.  Here, Flavel shares his advice on how to avoid mourning overmuch--a sticky subject if ever there was one.  However, as the Epistle Dedicatory points out, Flavel's first wife died giving birth to their first child, and he lost his second wife as well, so the man knows of what he speaks.

It must be noted, however, that the exegesis here is a bit rocky.  The advice is sound, but Flavel bases the whole of the work on Jesus' words to the widow who'd lost her only son: "Do not weep."  However, since Jesus raises the son mere moments later, it is not at all clear that his words are meant as an admonition to grievers everywhere not to mourn too passionately.  Indeed, it seems more likely (to me) that he was letting her know that he was about to remove the cause of her grief altogether.  Still, the conclusions Flavel draws about what it means to grieve as Christians are based solidly in Scripture.  Just not this particular Scripture, methinks.

Fair warning--Flavel does not have much to offer in the way of comfort as we tend to define it in modern day America.  His comfort is based in his understanding of human depravity--that is, whatever grief you may suffer, rest assured you deserve worse, and other have endured worse. He notes that death should come as no surprise to the Christian, and that nobody dies a moment before the time established by the Sovereign Creator. He admonishes us not to become overly attached to persons, but to find our joy in Christ and His sacrifice for our sin.  He reminds us that we'll die soon ourselves, and then be reunited with those we've lost.  Tears are to be expected, he notes, but he will have none of this moping about for long periods of time--grieve and get over it is his philosophy.  This man does not pull any punches.  (At one point he even asks how long the mourner will sit 'musing upon a dead creature'.)

I have not experienced much real grief in my life, so I honestly don't know how this book would be received by the actual mourners for whom it was written.  I could certainly see this being something of a slap in the face for those still in the raw, early stage of grief.  Still, as I've said, his counsel is based firmly on the Bible.  And after all, there are times when we all need a slap in the face.

(For those who don't want to invest in a whole volume of Flavel's collected works, the substance of this book is also available in a stand-alone volume called Facing Grief: Counsel for Mourners, (with foreward by Mark Dever) published by Banner of Truth as part of their line of Puritan Paperbacks.)

The Touchstone of Sincerity: or, The Signs of Grace and Symptoms of Hypocrisy, by John Flavel (in Works of John Flavel, Volume 5)

**

Not the most helpful work.  Flavel here undertakes an admittedly difficult task: the distinguishing of the hypocrite from the true believer.  However, as Flavel himself admits, there is no litmus test for true belief.  Any one 'sign' of faith could very well be present in a mere pretender.  Likewise, any 'symptom' of hypocrisy could manifest in a god-fearing saint.  Indeed, honest Christians will readily admit that the symptoms of hypocrisy are far more prevalent in their lives than they should be.  

Flavel is thus left with the following conclusions: 

Conclusion 1:  X is a clear indicator of hypocrisy, except when it isn't. 

Conclusion 2:  Y is a clear indicator of grace, except when it isn't.  

A theologically sound set of statements, to be sure, but perhaps not terribly helpful. Particularly since the insecure Christian, reading about the signs of hypocrisy, will in all likelihood be quick to identify them in his own life and become even more insecure. And he may not be wrong--there is something of the hypocrite in all believers (a predicament that is unlikely to change until we are gathered to heaven). Meanwhile, the foolishly confident 'professor', oblivious to the signs of hypocrisy in his life, may be able to point instead to 'signs' of grace which further bolster his otherwise unfounded assurance of his faith. 

I realize that Flavel's intention was precisely the opposite--that is, he intended to reassure to the doubting Christian and to rebuke the hypocrite--and this work may well have had the intended effect on many readers.  However, I found it confusing and unsettling.  

That being said, if you suspend the ultimate conclusion--that is, the answer to the question 'Am I really a Christian?'--the text could be read as a moderately helpful tool in identifying areas for growth.  Thus, instead of frantically wondering whether the presence of X sign in your life makes you 'not a real Christian', simply accept that sign as sin, praise the Lord that it has been paid for on the cross, ask God to enable you to fight that sin, and start fighting.  So taken, as a treatise on the sin of hypocrisy, the book could be useful.  It's still not up to quality of Flavel's other works--The Mystery of Providence and A Saint Indeed are my favorites thus far--but it'll do.

Only a Puritan . . .

Consideration 5:  If it be bad now, it will be better shortly.

O keep thy heart by that consideration: the meal in the barrel is almost spent; well, be it so, why should that trouble me, if I am almost beyond the need and use of all these things. The traveller hath spent almost all his money, but a shilling or two left: well, saith he, though my money be almost spent, yet my journey is almost finished too; I am near home, and then I shall be fully supplied.  If there be no candles in the house, yet it is a comfort to think that it is almost day, and then there will be no need of candles. I am afraid, Christian, thou misreckonest thyself when thou thinkest thy provision is almost spent, and you have a great way to travel: many years to live, and nothing to live upon; it may not be half so many as thou supposest; in this be confident, if thy provision be spent, either fresh supplies are coming, though thou seest not from whence, or thou art nearer thy journey's end than thou reckonest thyself to be.

~A Saint Indeed: or, The Great Work of a Christian, Opened and Pressed, by John Flavel (section entitled 'How a Christian may keep his heart from distrusting God, or repining against Him, when outward wants are either felt or feared"), in The Works of Flavel, volume 5

Essentially Flavel is saying that if your straits are really so dire, either a) God will meet your needs, b) He will give you the grace to bear the circumstances, per I Cor. 10:13, or c) you will die.  In which case you will be with Christ and you won't need whatever it is anymore anyway.  Either way, your time of 'need', your period of trial, your suffering, will be of short duration.  If you lack an actual can't-live-without-it need, God will meet it or you will die.  

It's actually a surprisingly comforting--if unusual--reminder.  We tend to think of our hardships as unlivable.  But usually they really, really aren't.  They're unpleasant, sure.  And they take a lot of patience and endurance and literal long-suffering.  But God enables us to endure our trials.  And if they're really and truly unendurable, He will either deliver us from them, or He will bring us home.  
Only a Puritan would think to encourage the suffering with the reminder that their difficulties will soon be relieved by death.

A Saint Indeed: or, The Great Work of a Christian in Keeping the Heart, by John Flavel (in Works of John Flavel, Volume 5)

****

Possibly my favorite Flavel work so far.  Flavel opens by addressing 'the keeping of the heart'--what it means and why it matters (for Flavel, this essentially boils down to spiritual health or a heart centered on faith in the gospel and rightly related to God).  He examines twelve 'seasons' in which the keeping of the heart is particularly challenging, and offers encouragement and counsel for keeping the heart in each one.  Flavel admonishes hypocrites (those who do not keep the heart, but only preserve outward appearances), and then lists various motives and means for those who would keep their hearts well.

While the whole work is excellent, Flavel's discussion of the twelve seasons was particularly convicting and encouraging.  This list includes such circumstances as prosperity, adversity, when troubles assail the Church, public danger (wars, etc.), injury, provocation, temptation, want, doubt, suffering, and sickness or death. In other words, pretty much any situation any Christian could ever be in, any time, anywhere.  Whatever your issue, there's an app for that. 

There is a lot of repetition, as many of the encouragements are the same across these varied situations, but the substance is incredibly meaty.  Flavel avoids the temptation to offer empty comfort or platitudes--his words are based on reality and Scripture, not warm, fuzzy feelings.  (For example, he points out that if you really are in desperate want of something you cannot live without, you should be encouraged because your want will be of short duration--God will either meet your need, or you will die.  Either way, the period of want is not long. No 'God will make it better' talk for him--just practical, realistic, biblical wisdom.) 

Flavel repeatedly points to the gospel as the source of all solace--the gift of our salvation outweighs any hardship or circumstance, and no matter how bad things are, we deserve worse.  The text is littered with references to Scripture, and it is on this rock that Flavel builds his arguments and exhortations.  He promises only what Scripture promises, and no more.  Thus each encouragement is based on the full heft of God's own faithfulness.  This is no 'hang in there' kitty poster.  This is real, solid, substantive encouragement, and Christians everywhere would benefit from Flavel's unflinching perspective on their circumstances.

Definitely a book that's going on my re-reading list.

Navigation Spiritualized; or, A New Compass for Seamen, by John Flavel (in Works of John Flavel, Volume 5)

***

Another excellent and insightful examination of the spiritual lessons that can be learned from seemingly mundane and secular occupations--in this case, the life of a sailor, which Flavel clearly perceives as significantly more dangerous than the life of a farmer. 

Each discussion is between 2 and 5 pages in length--slightly shorter than those in Husbandry Spiritualized.  As in the previous volume, Flavel begins with the natural phenomenon (storms at sea, etc.) and then compares it to a spiritual truth.  The truth is applied, and Flavel closes each section with a brief poem.  The poems are, by and large, shorter than those in Husbandry Spiritualized, and more effective.

After thirty-two such lessons, Flavel transitions into five longer discussion--dissuasives against various sins common among sailors.  These sections were decent enough, but may be less helpful for those who don't struggle with drunkenness or partake of the services of prostitutes.  These cautions are followed by six sermons addressed to sailors, and tracking through the various stages of a sea voyage--the farewell, the storm, travels in foreign lands, success, failure, and ultimately the return home.

Flavel's observations are, as usual, excellent, but this book could cause some confusion.  Flavel focuses almost entirely on 'right living'--that is, what a sailor should or should not do.  Each 'should not' is grounds for the wrath of God, and each 'should' results in His pleasure.  This only works if Flavel is addressing sailors who are already Christians and have already placed their faith in Christ's saving work on the cross--and even then, the theology seems a bit off.  If they are not Christians, no amount of right living will endear them to a righteous, angry God.  If they are Christians, God's wrath has been poured out on Christ in their stead, and they no longer suffer that penalty for their sins.  Thus Flavel's encouragement to 'live rightly' does not enable the unbelieving sailor to avoid punishment, and divine wrath will not fall on sinners who are saved by grace.  I agree wholeheartedly that those who believe the gospel should--and indeed will--make every effort to live rightly, and that sin does anger God.  However, that anger was poured out on Christ, and those who believe need not fear damnation.  Which Flavel knows full well, given his other writings, so I am willing to just chalk this up to a lack of clarity.

Still an excellent read, though.

Overcoming Sin and Temptation, by John Owen, Kelly M. Kapic, & Justin Taylor

*****

Editors Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor do their darnedest to make one of the most notoriously unreadable Puritans accessible to lay readers.  This is my first exposure to Owen, so I can't really compared their 'modernized' version to the original, but I can say that all though it was substantively dense and organizationally complex, it was also quite readable. 

In fact, Kapic and Taylor are so determined to simplify Owen that they footnote and define more than 250 words throughout the book--words ranging from the complex ('tergiversation') to the poetic ('ere') to the seemingly straightforward ('alacrity').  As a bit of a logophile, I got a bit distracted--I was curious to see which words were deemed 'obscure' enough to require footnoting.  However, it is still helpful, particularly for those unaccustomed to using context clues to bluff their way through weird words. 

And now for Owen himself.  As I said, this was my first exposure to the brilliant theologian, and I have to admit, his reputation is well deserved.  His analysis of sin and temptation is spot on and extremely convicting, and I was surprised to see how many of my own sinful thoughts and justifications were exceedingly common back in the 1600s (and likely before).  Nothing new under the sun, indeed. 

Owen is incredibly insightful, and his impressive intellect is founded on extremely solid, gospel-centered theology.  It is a pity that he's not more readable--he really should be a staple of every Christian's literary diet.  But then, I guess Kapic and Taylor are doing what they can to make that happen.

Bottom line:  Read it. 

γνῶθι σεαυτόν (Know Thyself)

Many men live in the dark to themselves all their days; whatever else they know, they know not themselves. They know their outward estates, how rich they are, and the condition of their bodies as to health and sickness they are careful to examine; but as to their inward man, and their principles as to God and eternity, they know little or nothing of themselves. Indeed, few labor to grow wise in this matter, few study themselves as they ought; on which yet the whole course of their obedience, and consequently of their eternal condition, does depend. This, therefore, is wisdom, if we have any design to please God, or to avoid that which is a provocation to the eyes of his glory.

[...] There is a constant enemy unto it in everyone's own heart; and what an enemy it is we shall afterward show, for this is our design: to discover him to the uttermost.  [...]

Awake, therefore, all of you in whose hearts is anything of the ways of God! Your enemy is not only upon you, as on Samson of old, but is in you also.  he is at work, by all ways of force and craft, as we shall see. Would you not dishonor God and his gospel; would you not scandalize the saints and ways of God; would you not wound your consciences and endanger your souls; would you not grieve the good and holy Spirit of God, the author of all your comforts; would you keep your garments undefiled, and escape the woeful temptations and pollutions of the days wherein we live; would you preserved from the number of the apostates in these latter days? Awake to the consideration of this cursed enemy, which is the spring of these and innumerable other evils, as also of the ruin of all the souls that perish in the world!

~Overcoming Sin and Temptation, by John Owen, Kelly M. Kapic, and Justin Taylor (Chapter 1 of "Indwelling Sin")

More Flavel

If the wisdom of God do thus triumph, and glorify itself in the distresses of the saints, then why should I fear in the day of evil? [...] Why doth my heart faint at the foresight and apprehension of approaching trouble? Fear none of those things that thou shalt suffer, O my soul; if thy God will thus be with thee in the fire and water, thou canst not perish. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, yet let me fear no evil, whilst my God is thus with me. Creatures cannot do what they please, his wisdom limits and over-rules them all, to gracious and sweet ends. If my God cast me into the furnace, to melt and try me, yet I shall not be consumed there; for he will sit by the furnace himself all the while I am in it, and curiously pry into it, observing when it hath done its work, and then will presently withdraw the fire. O my soul, bless and adore this God of wisdom! who himself will see the ordering of all thine afflictions, and not trust it in the hands of men or angels.

Though tost in greatest storms, I'll never fear,
If Christ will sit at th' helm to guide and steer:
Storms are the triumph of his skill and art;
He cannot close his eyes, nor change his heart.
Wisdom and power ride upon the waves,
And in the greatest danger helps and saves.
From dangers it by dangers doth deliver,
And wounds the devil out of his own quiver;
It countermines his plots, and so doth spoil;
And make his engines on himself recoil.
It blunts the politician's restless tool,
And makes Ahitophel the veriest fool;
It shews us how our reason us misled,
And if he had not, we had perished.
Lord, to thy wisdom I will give the reins,
And not with cares perplex and vex my brains.

~Navigation Spiritualized: or, A New Compass for Seamen, by John Flavel (Chapter 28)

Romans 8:28, a poem

WHEN once the dog-star rises, many say,

Corn ripens then apace, both night and day.

Souls once in Christ, that morning-star lets fall

Such influences on them, that all

God's dispensations to them then, sweet or sour,

Ripen their souls for glory ev'ry hour.

All their afflictions, rightly understood,

Are blessings; ev'ry wind will blow some good.

Sure at their troubles saints would never grudge,

Were sense deposed, and faith made the judge.

Falls make them warier, amend their pace;

When gifts puff up their hearts, and weaken grace.

Could Satan see the issue, and th' event

Of his temptations, he would scarcely tempt.

Could saints but see what fruits their troubles bring,

Amidst those troubles they would shout and sing.

O sacred wisdom! who can but admire

To see how thou dost save from fire, by fire!

No doubt but saints in glory wond'ring stand

At those strange methods few now understand.

~Navigation Spiritualized; or, A New Compass for Seamen, by John Flavel (Poem, Chapter 27)

Husbandry Spiritualized: or, The Heavenly Use of Earthly Things, by John Flavel (in Works of John Flavel, Volume 5)

****

An excellent and insightful study of the spiritual lessons we can learn from the world around us--particularly the world of farming and, to a lesser degree, nature.  Some of the analogies are a bit simplistic, but then Flavel is explicitly addressing the farming community, an audience he views as rather simplistic. 

Each discussion is between 4 and 8 pages of length (excellent for devotional use) and begins with a description of the natural phenomenon (sowing grain, for example), followed by an analysis of how that phenomenon is similar to a spiritual truth and application to Christian life.  Flavel then includes a series of reflections from varying points of view (i.e., a worldly person's reflections, a backsliding Christian's reflections, a lazy person's reflections, a discouraged Christian's reflections, etc.), and then closes with a poem.  I must confess, I found the poems rather underwhelming, but the application and reflections were quite good, and often convicting. 

Here is matter of unspeakable comfort...

[...] though the flesh say, Ego deficiam, I will fail thee; though the world say, Ego decipiem, I will deceive thee; though the devil say, Ego eripiam, I will snatch thee away; yet as long as Christ saith, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee, thy graces are secure in the midst of all these enemies.

[...] Desponding, trembling soul! lift up thine eyes and look upon the fields; the corn lives still and grows up, though birds have watched to devour it; snows have covered it, beasts have cropped it, weeds have almost [choked] it, yet it is preserved. And hath not God more care of that precious seed of his own spirit in thee, than any husbandman hath in his corn? Hath he not said, "That having begun the good work in thee, he will perfect it to the day of Christ?" Hath he not said, "I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish." [...] Well then, be not discouraged, for thou dost not run as one uncertain, nor fight as one that beats the air. But "the foundation of God stands sure, having this seal--the Lord knows who are his." Though thy grace be weak, thy God is strong; though the stream seem sometimes to fail, yet it is fed by an overflowing fountain.

~Husbandry Spiritualized: Or the Heavenly Use of Earthly Things, by John Flavel (Chapter 13, "Upon the dangers incident to the corn from seedtime to harvest")

The Westminster Shorter Catechism: for Study Classes, by G.I. Williamson

***

Really more of a two-and-a-half star book. Ostensibly, the purpose of this book is to present and explain the beliefs contained in the Westminster Shorter Catechism. However, Williamson choose a much more partisan path, and uses the book to present his own particular variety of Presbyterianism and his own interpretation of the Catechism, not the text of the Catechism itself. So, for example, according to Williamson, it is not wrong to drink alcohol (believer's freedom), but it is wrong to sing any uninspired songs (i.e., songs that are not psalms) as part of Christian worship (regulative principle), even though the Westminster Catechism does not actually take a position on either issue. He also tends to focus on his particular pet issues--such as the need for Christian schools as opposed to secular public education--which, regardless of whether the reader agrees with him, are not necessary in a discussion of the Westminster Catechism.

Williamson is also prone to hyperbole--to such an extent that it damages his credibility with the reader. So, according to Williamson, no doctrine is more clearly taught in the bible than election (I grant that it is clearly taught, but there are many doctrines more clearly taught), and he repeatedly uses words like "obviously" or "clearly" and is generally overly dismissive of opposing viewpoints. As a result, he renders his own opinions more suspect in the mind of a careful reader. (In his defense of infant baptism against those who advocate believer's baptism, he borders on snide.)

He also devotes a lot of attention (and an entire Appendix) to the model of prophet-priest-king, not only as illustrated in Christ, but as illustrated in pre-fallen man, corrupted in fallen man, and rectified in salvation. This may be a central teaching of Presbyterianism; I don't know. It was the first time I'd seen such a thing, and it was not immediately apparent to me from the text of the Catechism.

The book does include helpful discussions of many challenging biblical principles. The illustrations, though simplistic, are useful and largely well done. Williamson seems to be at his best when explaining the gospel and more abstract theology concepts--the Trinity, the dual nature of Christ, the representative principle (in Adam all sin), etc. When he got into the weeds of practical application, he tended to come across as rigid and puritanical, often without sufficient textual support for his views.

Still it would make a good family devotional, if you read with a critical and discerning eye so you can distinguish between what the bible necessarily teaches and what is just Williamson's (or the Westminster Catechism's) interpretation.

Charity and Its Fruits, by Jonathan Edwards

****

An excellent (and thorough) analysis of I Corinthians 13. This was my first exposure to Edwards, and he did not disappoint. Edwards thinks deeply and critically about each aspect of the well-known discourse on love, and his insights are, for the most part, extremely helpful and well-supported. This passage is read so often that it is easy--for me, anyway--to gloss over it or place it in the mental category of "yeah, yeah, patient, kind, I know the drill . . . next!" Edwards slows the reader down and really dwells in the text so that the words have a chance to really sink in. I particularly appreciated his discussion of the various attributes of charity--what it is, and what it isn't. Edwards expands each attribute into positive and negative characteristics, actions, words, and heart attitudes with a thoroughness that is pretty much guaranteed to result in serious conviction in the reader.

The Puritan Paperback version is very readable, though of course the language is--necessarily--somewhat old fashioned, and the content is dense enough to warrant a slower reading pace. I read one "lecture" each week, and that turned out to be a pretty good pace.

Definitely a worthwhile read.

The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, by Jeremiah Burroughs

***

A well-presented study on contentment, why it matters, and how to develop it. Burroughs is, I think, at his strongest when he is debunking the various common excuses for discontentment. However, I found The Mystery of Providence by John Flavel--a meditation on the many workings of Providence in our lives and the myriad ways God has blessed us--much more encouraging and more effective at dispelling discontentment in my own life. (Although I confess that may be due at least in part to my preference for Flavel's style.)

A note on this edition: Unfortunately, this is a very poorly edited edition. Typographical and spacing errors abound. If you're going to read this book, I recommend you use a different edition (like the Puritan Paperback edition pictured above).

The Beatitudes: An Exposition of Matthew 5:1-12, by Thomas Watson

***

An extremely thorough (if long-winded) exposition of the Beatitudes. I still think I like Willard's interpretation better in The Divine Conspiracy. Watson (like Spurgeon and so many others) sees the Beatitudes as a list of godly attributes--aspirational qualities. Specifically, that the process of salvation and sanctification begins with being poor in spirit and progresses through the other Beatitudes. Willard, on the other hand, treats the Beatitudes as an "in spite of" list. To him, Jesus is saying that the poor in spirit--the "spiritually bankrupt"--are now blessed in the gospel, because access to and friendship with God is no longer limited to the religious elite. I've always felt that the "poor in spirit means knowing you are poor in spirit, i.e., being humble" was a strained interpretation. And Willard interpretation fits better with the anti-legalistic gospel message--the kingdom of God is now available to all people. Even the wretched "poor in spirit."

Still, Watson has some good things to say (and his conclusions are biblically sound, even if I'm not sure these particular verses support those conclusions). It's not up to Watson's usual writing, at least based on the few I've read (The Godly Man's Picture and All Things for Good). Watson is usually one of the more readable of the Puritan writers, but this book took some slogging. Also, it is an absolutely terrible edition--the whole thing is chocked full of typos (for example, "of" spelled "ov"--ugh) and egregious spacing errors (three small words spaced out over a whole line for no apparent reason--I know full justification is partly to blame, but that's just ridiculous). It's a shame the publishers didn't put a little more effort into making this edition more presentable.

Still, Watson (as always) has some very challenging things to say, and I will continue to read his work.

The Godly Man's Picture, by Thomas Watson

****

Another excellent read from Watson. He does a great job of pointing out the characteristics of a godly man without falling into the trap of legalism or works-based salvation. The gospel is still front and center, and he offers encouragement for those of us who regrettably don't possess many of the markers of godliness.

The Mystery of Providence, by John Flavel

****

Flavel walks the reader through various spheres of life containing evidence of the providence of God . . . which is actually really helpful, since it's easy to lose sight of some of the more commonplace (yet nonetheless awe-inspiring) examples of His faithfulness.

The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, by Arthur Bennet (ed.)

*****

Quite possibly the best book I've read all year. These prayers are amazing. In Mudhouse Sabbath, Lauren Winner talks about the benefit of a formal prayer book. She notes that her free-form prayers often devolve into narcissism (this has definitely been my experience), but that the formal, written prayers refocus her on God. This book is a great example of the benefit of written prayers. My own free-form prayers often send me down a rabbit hole of my own personal worries and burdens--worries and burdens that I am right to share with God. But I think every one of the prayers in this book contains the Gospel, and when I read them, I am preaching the Gospel to myself. Instead of bringing my problems to God for Him to change, I find my focus shifting to my own sin, God's grace, Christ's sacrifice, and my own undeserved salvation.

Also, written prayers like these are very helpful if you are struggling with prayer. I certainly found it so. The words are true and they say true things about God and Christ and the Gospel. So when I cannot find the words or the heart to pray on my own, I can pray these written prayers. Not that I try to pray them without meaning them. I very much intend to mean them. And even if I do start out not really meaning the prayer, I usually do end up meaning it somewhere along the way. It is surprising how much such prayers can transform the human heart.