Sink into your comfy chair and wile away the hours with "The Message 100" bible

I grew up with extreme loyalty to one bible translation, believing it was the most accurate. But as I've gotten older and less dogmatic, I've discovered the value in comparing passages across several versions to get a multi-faceted view of scripture. One of the main versions I like to use in my YouVersion Bible app, (along with NLT, NIV, NKJV and AMP), The Message is a contemporary translation created by long-time pastor and biblical scholar, Eugene Peterson and published by NavPress. It's not the bible most of us have lodged in our heads as memory verses from youth group, and Peterson often paraphrases by a few verses at a time, so sometimes entire passages seem quite different than what I remember. One example is the oft-quoted James 1:19 (quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger). Peterson translates it: 

"Lead with your ears, follow up with your tongue, and let anger straggle along in the rear." 

To me, the rendering isn't quite as catchy, but the unusual personification of anger did cause me to do a double take. For other verses, Peterson's metaphoric style really did add something special. Consider a few verses later in James 1:21: 

"In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life."

What a gorgeous word picture!

Berry's "Sabbath Poems" have become part of how I do church Sunday mornings

The Parrinos have made a pretty big transition in the last couple of months: We've moved states after nearly a decade living in Kentucky. We've both changed jobs and two of our boys have had to adjust to a new level of academic rigor. We've gone from small town to bigger city. We've moved from a modest ranch to a lovely home with three floors and many, many places to put people. Perhaps one of the most significant changes, and the one that probably raises the most eyebrows among both our "Kentucky people" and our "Ohio people," is a shift in our church community. 

ZonderKids "Good Samaritan" a good intro to Jesus' parables for new readers

I have to confess my kids and I rarely stay on with a devotional or children's bible all the way to the end. Lately I've been trying to build my collection of stand-alone bible stories. I've also got a first-grader learning to read, so Zonderkids' I Can Read book, Adventure Bible The Good Samaritan seemed like a good fit-- plus, it's one of my favorite parables. With only a sentence or two on each of its 32 pages, this slim paperback Level 2 reader kept my three sons' attentions.

I liked that this version puts the familiar story into context as a parable Jesus told in response to a question about obtaining eternal life. I also liked that the text and illustrations of the priest and the Levite didn't portray them as "bad guys" but rather as people making the wrong choice because of fear and anxiety. This choice leaves the characters open for discussion. My son wanted to know, "Why did they just leave him there?" The book also ends with a simple description of the relationship between Jews and Samaritans, "In Bible times, the Jews and Samaritans did not get along. They were foreigners and did not know a lot about each other" (32). I felt this provided another jumping off point for relevant discussion.

Chapman's "Growing Up Social" offers new perspective to the screen-dependent family

So, somehow I thought I had written this review already. But apparently I did not. Maybe because subconsciously I was feeling guilty about my use of screens as baby-sitters of late. Over the past four months, we've moved 8 1/2 hours away from the only home my three boys have ever known. We've lived with family and friends, started a new school and new jobs. Transition has a way of wrecking hard-wrought schedules or forestalling good intentions. This is all a fancy way of confessing that sometimes I let my older boys play on pbskids.org or lego.com for 3 hours straight. Sometimes my 2-year-old watches his favorite episode of Curious George (the one with the mariachi band) three times in a row. And it keeps me sane for those hours... and it also makes my younger two boys super cranky and ungrateful when it's time to unplug. There. I've gotten that off my chest.

I knew I needed a book like Growing Up Social: Raising Relational Kids in a Screen-Driven World, co-authored by Alrene Pellicane and Gary Chapman of 5 Love Languages fame. I aspire to have children who play outside whenever its above freezing, who read books for fun, and who play together using their imaginations. I want my boys to value creativity and generosity and kindness over the accumulation of stuff. I feel like this book speaks to that longing.

"Apartment Therapy" a visual treat for modern eclectic collectors

So. I just moved into a new house a few weeks ago. Because this is the first abode I've genuinely felt excited about inhabiting, I'm brimming with ideas to make it "my own." Maxwell Ryan and Janel Laban's Apartment Therapy: Complete + Happy Home with its 300 pages of full color photos brought me into the dwellings of well-to-do homeowners and renters, city and country folk.

While I enjoyed gawking at all the photos and imagining the designers, artists, professors and CEOs that actually lived in the locations featured, I didn't feel there were too many ideas that applied to my tidy, 1940s brick cape cod. Most of the rooms featured - especially living rooms and bathrooms- were truly oversize. Even the supposed "entry-level" apartment has an open, airy feeling afforded by gigantic windows.

"The Plans I Have For You" prompts kids to think about God's plan for their lives

During our Sunday morning devotional time, after some raucous worship in the basement, the boys and I sat down to read The Plans I Have For You by Amy Parker and illustrated by Vanessa Brantley-Newton. The title seems to come from Jeremiah 29:11, in which God promises a future and a hope and has plans to prosper and not to harm the the Jews exiled in Babylon. It's an oft quoted verse among Christians, perhaps so much so that the authors didn't feel the need to mention the scripture anywhere. Instead, the book is written in the voice of God, speaking both to readers and to the cute, multicultural children depicted in the lively illustrations. A visual metaphor of the "You Factory" runs through the pages, as God creates children destined to be firefighters, chefs, nurses, mountain climbers and ballerinas.  I appreciate the message of this book, which encourages children to not only dream about their futures, but to rest in the thought that God has formed them with a specific talents and gifts to accomplish a specific task on the earth.

Metaxas' "Seven Women" leaves many secrets to greatness a bit of a mystery

After reading best-selling evangelical biographer Eric Metaxas' 7 Men, I was so happy to see an excerpted chapter about Corrie Ten Boom for his then-upcoming 7 Women and the Secret of Their Greatness. Overall, this book has introduced me to the remarkable, difficult, impacting lives of seven women, some of whom I knew very little about. And, as with any book that includes stories of far-flung missionaries, holocaust survivors and martyrs, I was left pondering my own life's work.

And I was left with questions. Lots of them. Like, what is greatness, exactly? Is it maintaining your convictions to the end, like Joan of Arc? Is it a general measure of one's faithfulness, skill, or impact on others? Or is greatness something specific, like ministering to hundreds of thousands like Mother Teresa? Or like using one's God-given gifts to turn the tide of public opinion against institutionalized evil like Hannah More? Or simply learning to forgive staggering wrongs, like Corrie Ten Boom? Or is it all of these, in the form of doing what you alone can do in your unique situation in time and place with your unique set of characteristics and abilities and weaknesses? If you're familiar with my approach to life, you'll know I prefer the latter, open-ended possibility. I think in many ways, since Metaxas never really tries to synthesize all seven stories into one central "secret of womanly greatness," he might agree with or at least permit my foggy conclusion. For this reason, I found the book a worthwhile read.