“We are living in a time when being ordinary is the worst thing that can happen to a person, and nothing screams ordinary like at-home work.” (p.41)

Thus says Courtney Reissig in her new book, Glory in the Ordinary: Why Your Work in the Home Matters to God. Targeting women, especially mothers, but also applying more broadly to anyone who contributes to the work of the home, Reissig’s work is an engaging and helpful read meant to help us recalibrate our unhealthy understandings about the mundane yet glorious work of the home. I believe it succeeds in this effort and is a delightful companion to the weary laborer.

Reissig addresses this topic in a variety of ways, introducing the reader to several families in different stages of life and with varying work/life roles. She also provides a brief historical context of our bias. Reissig writes: “The ancient Greeks placed great value on the mind, while the body and material world were for people of lesser value.” (p.37) She then poses a series of questions many of us ask ourselves often: “What am I doing with my life? Does this matter? Can I have purpose if I’m not doing something great for God? Can I find meaning in the most mundane tasks? Can my work really be good if I don’t always see it as good work?” If you are asking these questions, you are in good company; unbiblical views of mundane yet necessary work have been something Christians have been wrestling with for centuries. “While it might seem that we are in a new frontier regarding how we value (and devalue) work, we are simply continuing the cycle that has been spinning for centuries. It just has new packaging.” (p.37)

Several more modern ideas that Reissig addresses are the emphasis on at-home work being about the children over and above the physical work of the home, our culture’s emphasis on “knowledge” jobs, and our bringing a business mindset into the work of the home. Her discussion of the impact of each of these is very insightful and hits close to home. Here are a few quotes to ponder:

(Jennifer) Senior says that the worst thing a mom can be defined as today is not a bad housewife, but a bad mom. You and I aren’t housewives anymore; instead we are stay-at-home moms. (p.65)

While being called a housewife might not be popular now (unless you are part of a reality television show), our culture doesn’t view housekeeping as a valuable profession either. You don’t go to school to learn how to clean the house. You don’t take classes in ironing or folding clothes. Cooking classes are designed for those who want to start a restaurant, not those who want to feed a family. (p.49)

…there is a temptation to correlate the monetary compensation of a job to the dignity or worth of the job…at the end of the day, the prominence of such services in our culture has shaped the way we think about at-home work and made it less valuable in our eyes. (p.35)

Depressed yet? Sadly, these quotes reflect the American mindset of today and, even worse, these lies easily sink into our hearts and minds without constant discernment and reflection. With all of these worldly pressures in mind, Reissig’s insights stand out as especially counter-cultural, and her goal is to help us see how God is glorified in the mundane moments as much as the magnificent. We need Jesus to see the truth: “…in our sin we don’t always have eyes to see how our work is doing God’s work of bringing order out of chaos or caring for his creation. Frankly, it just feels too mundane most days to be that grandiose. In a lot of ways these feelings of insignificance over the ordinary chores is the most devastating effect of sin on our work.” (p.53)

Working for God’s glory, both in and out of the home, is a topic that Martin Luther has addressed extensively. His words are some of the most penetrating of the book. He writes:

If you find yourself in a work by which you accomplish something good for God, or the holy, or yourself, but not for your neighbor alone, then you should know that that work is not a good work. For each one ought to live, speak, act, hear, suffer, and die in love and service for one another, even for one’s enemies, a husband for his wife and children, a wife for her husband, children for their parents, servants for their masters, masters for their servants, rulers for their subjects and subjects for their rulers, so that one’s hand, mouth, eye, foot, heart and desire is for others; these are Christian works, good in nature. (p.68)

Reissig echoes Luther when she directs our gaze outward: “Work is not for us. It is not for our own fulfillment. It is not for our own glorification or status in the world. It is for our neighbor.” (p.69) Work done for others, giving glory to God, is a true act of love. Some quotes from Michael Horton are especially thoughtful, looking at the unique challenges and blessings that spring from the sacrifice of mothers. Finally, Reissig highlights the beautiful witness a “vibrant, village-like community” of believers is to the watching world, a community where women are not only able to give help, but ask for and receive it as well. Working in isolation does not need to be the case for the family of God!

One chapter to note was on the topic of the Sabbath. Reissig includes a disclaimer paragraph on her view:

Before I move on, I want to acknowledge that there is disagreement among Christians over what observing the Sabbath means for us in the new covenant. I take the position that the Sabbath requirements of the Old Testament were fulfilled in Christ, which means that we are not bound to observe the actual Sabbath day in the way Old Testament Israel did. However, many Christians believe the Bible teaches otherwise. But when I speak of the Sabbath, I speak from my own position on it—that the Sabbath requirement was fulfilled in Christ, and he is now our true rest. As human beings we still have a need for rest, but we are no longer morally obligated to observe the Sabbath in the same way. (p.100)

I don’t fully understand what she means by these statements, so I found them somewhat distracting because of her lack of clarification. She seems to be selling the commandment short, but since she doesn’t explain herself, I was left wondering what she really means by her words.

That said, her candidness on the difficulty of resting on the Sabbath was refreshing. Reissig confesses her struggles in this area:

When my to-do list is left undone at the end of another day, I take it out on everyone in my home. This hit me square in the face when I began noticing that I would not take a Sabbath rest on Sunday. Because my husband was home from work, I took that as more time for me to work on things I wanted to work on. He could help with the kids and I could check more things off my to-do list. One morning while listening to a message by D. A. Carson on the book of Nehemiah, I was humbled by my idolatry over my work. He said: ‘If you can make a little extra money on the Sabbath then why rest on the Sabbath?’ I can rephrase that as, If you can knock a few things off the to-do list, then why rest on the Sabbath? I was directly ignoring God’s faithful provision for me as a finite being because I valued my to-do list over his Word. (p.103)

She notes that Kevin DeYoung calls this “working hard at rest.” Her reflections on how our Sabbath rest points to Christ were insightful: “The prevailing theme regarding rest in Scripture is that rest is a creation ordinance. Because God rested, so should we. But like I already said, God rested as a sign of completion. We don’t get that luxury. We still are required to rest even when the work is not all done. This is where understanding the rest that Jesus provides us is so helpful. It carries life-giving hope for the parent who is prone to idleness in work and the one prone to idolatry. For the couch potato and the supermom.” (p.112)

Ending with a look at the redemptive nature of our work, readers will be reoriented and energized. I love her focus on God’s glory and her recognition of our humble servant state:

We know that we aren’t the ones redeeming the culture through our work. Only God can do that. But we are given the privilege to work alongside of him. We are part of his cosmic plan to save a people for himself and make all things new. Our mundane, self-sacrificing work is part of that effort. It’s about people. It’s about seeing beyond the walls of our homes and seeing how what we do on any given day is not just blessing the people in the home, but also blessing the world that he has made. And it’s all bringing him glory. (p.141)

We’re freed to love God through the life and death of Christ, and we’re freed to work for His glory and our neighbor’s good through the same. Glory in the Ordinary is a great primer on these glorious truths, and her inclusion of other wonderful theologians makes this work a delight to read. Read it to be encouraged, for as Reissig reminds us, “…faithfulness in the ordinary, even when it is hard, is true greatness.” (p.130)

“Image-bearing means becoming fully human, not becoming divine.”

In the opening chapters of her book None Like Him, Jen Wilkin gives us two lists:

What follows is the thesis for the rest of her book: “Though we know that the list on the right is for our good and for God’s glory, we gravitate toward the list on the left—a list that is not good for us, nor does pursuing it bring glory to God. It actually seeks to steal glory from him. It is a list that whispers, as the Serpent whispered to Eve, ‘You shall be like God’” (p. 24).

The hope? “It is the natural inclination of the sinful heart to crave this list, but as those who have been given a new heart with new desires, we must learn to crave the list on the right. The list on the right represents the abundant life Jesus came to give us” (p. 24-25). Wilkin works throughout the book to open our eyes to how we, subtly or blatantly, reach for the forbidden fruit like children trying to touch something they know they shouldn’t. Or Adam and Eve eating something they shouldn’t. Our hearts have not progressed past garden-variety temptations, and Wilkin’s applications of this reality provide the most insight in this accessible book.

None Like Him is written for women, as is evidenced by the pretty flowers on the cover. Wilkin’s examples are often targeting women, although she draws from various fields of study or pop culture that keep the book from becoming overly feminine. In terms of relationships, she speaks as an experienced wife and mother, and works in ministry at her church. She writes, not as an academic, but as a wise friend. I found this worked well in the application sections, but at times found the introductions to each chapter elementary. She used each chapter introduction to describe a quality of God, but did not stretch my understanding as much as I would have liked. She also highlighted her “feeble efforts” near the beginning of the book, something that I’ve seen women writers do frequently. Doing so is distracting and draws the reader away from the work and precludes the reader’s own conclusions. I wish this hesitation had been removed.

Again and again, what I did appreciate is Wilkin’s solid theology. She spent numerous sections correcting my understanding of a certain text and making God big where I had made him small. In the chapter “Self-Existent,” Wilkin explains that “all worship of the creation is actually a veiled form of self-worship” (p. 47-8). Connecting this temptation to the story of God’s humbling of Nebuchadnezzar, she likens the insanity of Nebuchadnezzar’s creator complex to how “we convince ourselves that we deserve credit for creating that which we are called to steward. … It is sheer wild-eyed grass-eating madness to ascribe to ourselves the role of creator” (p. 50).

I found Wilkin’s chapter “Self-Sufficient” to be the most convicting and pastoral. She leads the reader to do some heart analysis, and gets at a layer of self-deception that is profound:

We love autonomy and view dependence as a sign of failure, a flaw of some kind, a lack of proper planning or ambition. Christians, in particular, can interpret physical, financial, or spiritual need as a sign that God has removed his blessing from us because of some failure on our part. But why do we take this view? It’s almost as though our reasoning can’t separate the presence of need from the presence of sin. But is sin the cause of human need? A quick examination of Genesis 1-3 answers this question with a resounding no. In pre-fall Eden, Adam and Eve were created to need. … God created them needy, that in their need they might turn to the Source of all that is needful, acknowledge their need, and worship (p. 62).

It should disgust us that we, as Christians, would see things so perversely. Of all people, we should know how needy we are and be ready to acknowledge this reality. And yet we don’t. In an earlier chapter, Wilkin says, “One of the most frightening truths the Bible implores us to acknowledge is that we do not know our own hearts. Reflecting on this, the psalmist asks, ‘Who can discern his (own) errors?’ (Ps.19:12). The prophet Jeremiah warns that our hearts are characterized above all else by an internal, pervasive treachery that thwarts self-knowledge: ‘The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?’ (Jer. 17:9). We don’t know our own hearts” (p. 36-7). Wilkin’s examination of the culture and Christianity reveals a deep-seated independence that can live in our hearts but wreak havoc on our lives. Thankfully, Wilkin points to some really good food for thought: “We were created to need both God and others. We deny this to our peril. We are not needy because of sin; we are needy by divine design. … Sanctification is the process of learning increasing dependence, not autonomy” (p. 63).

Each chapter ends with four study questions, making this book suitable for individual or group study. I can see good discussion flowing from her questions. An example from the “Incomprehensible” chapter: “Think of a difficult person in your life. How well do you truly know him or her? How might acknowledging your limited understanding change the way you interact with him or her?” (p. 41). Or from the “Omnipotent” chapter: “Of the four types of power discussed (physical strength, beauty, wealth, and charisma), which do you have experience with? Which do you wish you had more of?” (p. 136). The book is hopeful but not trite. Wilkin does a nice job focusing on our union with Christ and his sanctifying work in us as a means to growth, and directs the reader’s eyes to spiritual blessings. “Not everything will be made new in this lifetime, but his promise to grown in us the fruit of the Spirit means we can know abundant life whether relationships and circumstances heal or not” (p. 52).

There were a couple of times where Wilkin threw out a statement that seemed out of place without some Scriptural support or further explanation. On page 96 of the “Omnipresent” chapter, she states: “Even in hell, God is fully present, though its inhabitants perceive only his wrath” (p. 96). And from the “Eternal” chapter: “When we invest our time in what has eternal significance, we store up treasure in heaven. This side of heaven, the only investments with eternal significance are people” (p. 79). I found myself desiring a footnote or two to help me understand more fully why she said what she did.

The book concludes with a “Sovereign” chapter and then a re-examination of Psalm 139:14: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Wilkin restates her thesis in another way: “Our primary problem as Christian women is not that we lack self-worth, not that we lack a sense of significance. It’s that we lack awe” (p. 154). Using the entirety of Psalm 139, she points her readers once again to God, the real subject of the passage. It is a fitting conclusion for the book—to worship our God in awe and wonder.

None Like Him quotes several times from A. W. Tozer’s book, The Knowledge of the Holy: The Attributes of God, Their Meaning in the Christian Life. Published in 1961, this book is a classic and would be a fitting next read for those whose appetites Wilkin whet. None Like Him is a theologically-sound, witty, accessible, and probing study of the attributes of God. I hope it’s not the last book you read on the subject, but if you’re a Christian woman between the ages of 19 and 90, it’s a decent place to start.

Exploring the centuries-old church in their neighborhood was proving to be an adventure that Carla and Timothy would not soon forget.

Thus begins The Ology, the latest book by pastor and author Marty Machowski and illustrator Andy McGuire. As Carla and Timothy venture down into a small, dusty storage room in the old church, they discover a parcel and a note, waiting for someone to read and explore. The note explains,

You hold in your hands the last known copy of a rare children’s book with a long history. Its story begins with the early church pastors. They were the ones who first taught us how to understand the message of the Bible. Later came those who studied God and the Bible so they could help others understand who God is and how to follow him. Just a few of them were Thomas Aquinas, Martin Luther, and John Calvin. Because they studied God, people started calling them theologians. Theology means the study of God. . . . But sadly, after many years, The Ology was forgotten. Parents and children began to think the truths of The Ology were old-fashioned and out of date. One by one these books vanished. The book you now hold may be the very last copy of The Ology in existence. (p. 7)

With this introduction, parents and children are invited to read on and begin to know God, know themselves, and know how much God loves them. The thoughtful word pictures, soft illustrations, and enlightening Scripture passages make this book a delight to read and share. It is a testimony to how little we know, or want to know, of God that parents and teachers would shy away from teaching our little ones the truth from God’s Word. The Ology is a resource that can be used by even the most timid of adults to begin, day by day, discovering the richness of God in Christ Jesus.

Organized as a systematic theology, the book moves through the Bible under topical categories, or systems, such as “The Ology of God,” “The Ology of Sin,” and “The Ology of Change.” Machowski does a masterful job of ministering to the souls of his readers as he walks through the various systems. One striking example: “Safe in the ark, Noah and his family survived God’s flood. That’s a picture of how we escape God’s judgment when we are hidden in Christ. As far as God is concerned, because Jesus lived a sinless life, we who trust in Christ also live a sinless life in him.” (p. 124) What child or parent does not delight to hear these words?

Machowski’s explanation of the Holy Spirit’s work is simple enough for even a young child to grasp and treasure:

How do we know the Spirit lives in us? Well, only the Holy Spirit can help us turn away from our sin and believe in Jesus. The Holy Spirit is the one who shows us that we are sinners who need Jesus. Once we come to Jesus, he makes us more like Jesus. Because of the Spirit we have Jesus’s power to love even really annoying people and to share the good news about Jesus with others. We can tell that the Holy Spirit is inside because we think and do things that are different. And best of all, down deep inside, even though we still sin, we want to follow God and get to know him better. Once we have the Holy Spirit, no one can take him away from us. (p. 138)

I especially loved Machowski’s treatment of faith. The illustration he uses is a delicious root beer float which has only two main ingredients: root beer and vanilla ice cream. He goes on:

Did you know that faith in Jesus has two ingredients? To become a Christian you need to believe, which means trusting that Jesus is God, died for your sins, and was raised from the dead. And you need to repent, which means you need to turn away from your sin and from going your own way and follow Jesus. This is what the Bible means by faith—believing and turning. (p. 152)

My favorite part of The Ology, however, was his section The Ology of the End Times. I think this is because, when I talk to my children, they can talk about heaven just as easily as they talk about going to Florida for vacation. The faith of a child is so trusting, so genuine and fresh and real, that talking about eternity with God in perfection is enough to make one weep with joy. Their minds and hearts are so soft at this young age; perhaps it was with this in mind that Machowski himself desired to revisit these old truths with a young audience in mind. We are all blessed when we are reminded how to see truth through young eyes of faith. I love his words on page 210:

When you trust in Jesus, the last day of this earth will be very different for you. You too will stand before God, but instead of having to answer for all your sins, you can just point to Jesus and say, ‘I’m with him!’ Jesus’s death on the cross has already paid for all of your sins. So when you stand before God, you will be welcomed by these words, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant.’ How amazing is that?

He goes on to paint an attractive picture of eternity, one informed not by pop culture but by the Word.

Have you ever been so happy to get back home and into your bed after a long trip? That is just a small piece of what heaven will be like for God’s children. . . . Within its beautiful walls we will live with Jesus, building homes, tending gardens, making music, creating art, and in all kinds of different ways filling the world with beauty and joy. Animals will once again fill the earth and, like in the Garden of Eden, they will live in peace and harmony together with us. Imagine petting a tiger, riding an antelope, or calling for an eagle to perch on your arm. (p. 213)

Children will especially enjoy picturing themselves in McGuire’s illustration for this chapter.

One chapter to note is the chapter on baptism. The illustration is of an older child being baptized by immersion, while the text includes the following paragraph:

Some Christian parents have their infant children baptized as a sign that they have been born into God’s covenant family. Other parents wait until their children are old enough to turn away from their sin and say they believe in Jesus on their own before baptism. While not everyone agrees on the best time to baptize children of believers, wise leaders on both sides agree that all children must turn away from their sin and place their only hope for salvation in Jesus. (p. 192)

Because of our fallen state, instead of turning more and more to our Heavenly Father as we grow, we turn away. A book like The Ology can be used to stem the turning tide of our hearts and instead fuel our childlike curiosity about God and ourselves with truth from God’s Word. This focus on God is likely to set this book apart from the start, as many books for children (and, let’s be honest, adults) focus on something within or about oneself that is ostensibly of value or redeeming. The Ology points children to the cross, not themselves. With God’s grace, children will appreciate the truth.

McGuire’s illustrations very much aid Machowski in this task to present the truth, as he stays away from drawing predictable Bible story pictures and often includes pictures of children and animals to draw children in to understand the truths being conveyed. I appreciated the inclusion of suggested uses for ages 6–9, 10–12, and teens and adults. Scripture memory is also encouraged and a glossary of theological terms is included, again, explained in language even young children can grasp.

Satan loves to let us think that certain types of people are not ready to be saved and transformed by God’s grace. Sometimes those “types of people” are children. I recommend that parents and teachers use this resource and pray that God would turn many young hearts to himself in faith, repentance, obedience, and abundant life. For as Machowski declares, “As we turn to God, the Holy Spirit opens our eyes, brings us from darkness to light, and makes us into a beautiful display that shows the whole world what Jesus looks and acts like.” (p. 168)

“I think we often think of perseverance as passive endurance. I hope to change that.” Thus writes Aimee Byrd, author of Theological Fitness: Why We Need a Fighting Faith, published by P&R Publishing in May 2015. Her goal is admirable and her theology is solid, yet the statement above reveals her audience’s elementary level understanding of the Christian life. While I enjoyed parts of the book, I would not recommend the Reformed Forum audience add this to their “to read” pile; it was too simplistic and left me numerous times wishing I was reading the various theologians she was drawing from rather than Byrd herself. That said, Byrd’s theology is solid and her focus is solidly on the gospel, so this book could be used as a tool to help a less-mature believer grow in their faith.

In ten chapters, Byrd fleshes out Hebrews 10:23 “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.” She breaks down the verse into five parts, each with two chapters, and includes questions at the end of each chapter to facilitate use for small group study. The book weaves a fitness metaphor throughout, which I found helpful in chapter ten when discussing the Sabbath, but distracting at most other times. She gives many illustrations from her fitness experience and the martial arts, of which she seems very knowledgeable. Yet to carry a metaphor throughout the entire work felt forced and even distracting, especially when karate movie fight scenes or Ultimate Fighting Championship fights were included at length.

Byrd uses the first three chapters to affirm and defend the belief that it takes theological fitness to hold fast. She has some good takeaway lines: “Our theology shapes the way we live.” “I propose that perseverance is an exciting exhortation for every Christian.” “How do we expect to run the race with endurance if we do not know the One we are running to?” “I am suggesting that our perseverance in the Christian faith is connected to our theological health.” She also defines the title of the book in this section:

Faith is a gift of God, but faith is a fighting grace. Theological fitness, then, refers to that persistent fight to exercise our faith by actively engaging in the gospel truth revealed in God’s Word . . . a trust in his promises that motivates us in holy living.

Chapter four goes into the particular fitness that all Christians have: Christ. A high point was her discussion of various ideas in Christendom that are man-centered and have a low view of the faithfulness of God. By way of contrast, these ideas show us what perseverance is not. The first Byrd presents is the “once saved, always saved” belief; pray the prayer and you’re in. In this view, however, the transformation into a disciple is forgotten. Byrd writes: “For them, perseverance isn’t like a race at all, but like a confidence in their own words, and maybe in the way they felt when they prayed them.” This view expects little of the faithfulness of God, says Byrd. The other view she discusses is that sin could forfeit one’s salvation; here, there is no assurance. Byrd writes, “This teaching also has a low view of the faithfulness of God. Its focus is on the faithfulness of the believer.” It leads to legalistic boundaries and fear. Byrd has some helpful reflections on what is true and false in both views. She diagnoses both as man-focused, and drawing upon the words of John Calvin, points the reader back to God’s grace to us in Christ.

The next two chapters look at the “confession of our hope,” or rather who Jesus is and what he has done for us. She asks a good question:

Do you affirm the sufficiency of God’s Word revealed to us in Scripture, or do you find yourself looking for outside revelations?

Later, she includes a quote from Kevin DeYoung listing various “versions” of Jesus (Republican Jesus, Starbucks Jesus, etc.), and follows with some good analysis: “As passionate as we may feel about some of the above causes, these versions of Jesus are too weak. They are unable to save. Rather, they are different strategies for us to save ourselves.” She goes on: “We may be quick to proclaim a Jesus who gets behind our good causes, but this means of grace reminds us how evil our own sin is. Our Savior was cursed because of us, not only for the injustice in our midst. Are we as fervent to proclaim a bloody Savior? And if we identify ourselves with him, are we also willing to carry our own cross in his path?” Byrd clings tightly to Christ, and this section was a high point of the work.

What follows in chapters seven through nine, however, was not as strong. She leans heavily on others, including Arthur Pink and Joel Beeke, but doesn’t add a lot herself. That said, who she leans on is solid! She challenges the reader to be honest about one’s own spiritual state:

The picture that we have of our own sanctification is far different from reality. We often have a tendency to think we are much farther along the path to holiness than we actually are.

What follows is a look at the discipline we undergo as children of God, and here I wished I was reading Pink’s An Exposition of Hebrews instead. The strength of this section came from the various theological quotes Byrd included. This became especially clear in chapter nine, where her inclusion of several sections of The Westminster Confession of Faith and some quotes from Michael Horton nearly destroyed her narrative altogether.

Byrd has a high view of Christ and wants to point her readers to God and our eternal blessings in him. Near the end of this section, following some content by Joel Beeke, Byrd reflects,

We chase situational happiness over enduring joy . . . There’s nothing wrong with eating a good bowl of stew to the glory of the Lord. But in the life of Esau we see another example of misplaced trust. He looked to external means to be fulfilled. He was so sensual that even when he sought repentance it could not be found. Esau wasn’t sorry for his irreverence to his covenant relationship with the Lord; he was wallowing in his own self-pity when he realized the consequences. This is a grave warning for all who profess that our hope is in the Lord to live as we are called.

She also holds a high view of Scripture, and sees humanity in light of this truth: “Even when Adam was without sin, his goodness was dependent on obedience to God’s Word, to what God says is good.” Her words of warning are poignant yet pastoral:

All those who refuse to dwell on Mt. Zion with him for eternity insist on their own righteousness. By laboring to fulfill righteousness on their own, they will be faced with even greater horrors than Israel did on Mt. Sinai. But those of us who believe are counted as righteous, Abraham’s children of faith.

Perhaps this is why chapter ten was a fitting climax for the book. Here she connects her reason for physical fitness with Resurrection Day and eternity. Her inclusion of a CDC report on the importance of a rest and recovery period for a successful fitness routine is helpful. On fitness, Byrd writes, “For me, the goal of training and conditioning is active rest. I condition my body to have the fitness for an active life.” She then reflects on an exhortation from Spurgeon, “Just as Sunday is a taste of the believer’s heavenly rest in Christ, the constant restlessness of unbelievers in their own efforts is a taste of their eternal state. Here is an opportunity for us to share the good news of the gospel to those tired of struggling in their own efforts.” Unfortunately, this chapter is also filled with the ways she has felt validated in her life. I am glad she feels validated, but the text is much too personal and becomes distracting and very open to criticism. She should let the reader validate her work; I found it especially problematic when she discusses her writing projects.

Byrd’s last chapter is focused again on Christ: “We keep looking to ourselves and need to be reminded of the gospel message.” She discusses our eternal rest as both a place and a status, and sanctification as “being conditioned for holiness.” The connection to eternity is made:“Active rest is freedom in our full recovery to holiness, freedom to fulfill our purpose to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Byrd paints a hopeful picture:

This is the magnificent picture of active rest: living, worshiping, serving, and loving our great God without toil, without sin, in unity together, bearing his image perfectly.

The worth of this book, perhaps like all other books, is deemed as much from the work itself as its comparison to other books on the market today. When compared to other books written by female Christians, Theological Fitness is likely more gospel-centered, more theologically sound, more reformed, and, at least at times, more insightful. When compared to theological books as a whole, however, Byrd’s book is not as eloquent, thought-provoking, or rich as many other works its size. Depending on your preference as a reader or goal as a small-group or Bible study, thinking through these factors will help you determine if this book is worth picking up or passing over. I hope we hear more from Byrd, and as she develops her voice and strength as a writer, her next book doesn’t depend on an over-developed metaphor but dares to stand up on its own.