David Platt's RADICAL ... a call to radical obedience to God and a rejection of the American Dream. You've been warned!
One more time I have to unlearn a three decade old habit! Two spaces after a period: Why you should never, ever do it. (via Slate Magazine)
Last month, Gawker published a series of messages that WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange had once written to a 19-year-old girl he'd become infatuated with. Gawker called the e-mails "creepy," "lovesick," and "stalkery"; I'd add overwrought, self-important, and dorky. ("Our intimacy seems like the memory of a strange dream to me," went a typical line.) Still, given all we've heard about Assange's puffed-up personality, the substance of his e-mail was pretty unsurprising. What really surprised me was his typography.
p>Here's a fellow who's been using computers since at least the mid-1980s, a guy whose globetrotting tech-wizardry has come to symbolize all that's revolutionary about the digital age. Yet when he sits down to type, Julian Assange reverts to an antiquated habit that would not have been out of place in the secretarial pools of the 1950s: He uses two spaces after every period. Which—for the record—is totally, completely, utterly, and inarguably wrong.
Help Jon Acuff with his next book about the "I'm, but generation" (via Stuff Christians Like)
Because we are becoming the “I’m, but generation.”
Whenever I travel and meet people or connect online with folks, our conversation inevitably drifts toward a simple question, “What do you do?” The most common answer I hear, from people of all ages, is simple:
“I’m a __________, but I want to be a ___________.”
We seek redeeming AFTER the pit, God redeems us FROM the pit (via Jon Acuff @ Stuff Christians Like)
I know I can’t be perfect. Past failures have made that crystal clear, but I still try sometimes. I still try to hold my breath and white knuckle my way back into the father’s arms. Creating lists, manically measuring my quiet times, doing the yo-yo diet version of faith. I don’t want to fail. I want to be perfect.
I want to free myself from the mess, clean my act up and string together a good solid month, of good solid living before I return to the God. But I’m not sure that is how God sees my life. In Psalm 103: 3-4, God is described as he “who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with compassion.”
The word I love in that passage is “from.” On the surface it’s a transition word, but the reality is that “from” represents the difference between man and God. In the world, when you fall into a pit, you’re expected to get back out. You dug it yourself, you climb out of it yourself. Get yourself together. Straighten up. Don’t bring me a problem, bring me a solution. In every job you’ve ever had and most of the relationships you’ve been in, this verse would read, “who redeems your life after the pit.”
But in God’s world, He comes to the pit. He redeems us from the pit. Not once we’ve managed to get out of it, but from the middle of it. From the deepest part of the pit. He gets down with us in the pit and rescues us from it. Not after it.
