Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
The Stubblefield Family Name Lives On
Psalm 127:3-5
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.
May God be praised for bringing a new little one into this world! Last night my dear friends Mark and Amy Stubblefield welcomed Isaac William Stubblefield as their firstborn child and supreme blessing from the Lord. I rejoice with them at the news of his birth, and pray that his coming years will be attended with fruitful service in Christ's Kingdom.
Congratulations, Mark and Amy. I look forward to meeting young Isaac soon.
Visit the Stubblefield family blog for photos and updates.
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.
May God be praised for bringing a new little one into this world! Last night my dear friends Mark and Amy Stubblefield welcomed Isaac William Stubblefield as their firstborn child and supreme blessing from the Lord. I rejoice with them at the news of his birth, and pray that his coming years will be attended with fruitful service in Christ's Kingdom.
Congratulations, Mark and Amy. I look forward to meeting young Isaac soon.
Visit the Stubblefield family blog for photos and updates.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
The Return of “Ballantyne the Brave”
Thanks to my parents’ love for good books, from my childhood I have been an avid reader of classic literature. Dickens, Stevenson, Cooper, Dumas, Henty, Anderson, Bronte, Defoe, and many other classic authors have provided me reading pleasure and thought-provoking stories for years, and my knowledge of bygone days and far-off lands stems in large part from their respective pens. Nobility of character and a bold performance of duty regardless of the consequences is a prevailing theme throughout these favorite authors’ tales, and from a young age I was strongly impacted by their stories. At times their protagonists struggled and sometimes failed in pursuit of various quests, but generally emerged victorious through the conflict and demonstrated principles of honor, bravery, sacrifice, and perseverance while so doing. Many of these fictitious characters became my heroes and friends, and I learned what it meant to be a man in "the best of times........[and] the worst of times." (Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities).
Regrettably, too often in my favorite classics there is a very important element either hidden or missing altogether, namely Christ. Although Christian concepts are discussed and generally esteemed in these written works, in many cases they are divorced from their Ultimate Source and achieve success and provide benefit to others only through the "borrowed fruits" principle. I have long searched for more Christian authors from this era who offered both excellent stories and a true understanding of, and submission to, their Creator. Enter Robert Michael Ballantyne, or, "Ballantyne the Brave," as his literary protégé Robert Louis Stevenson affectionately titled him in Stevenson’s introductory poem to Treasure Island. Having read several of R. M. Ballantyne’s approximately eighty books, I am thrilled to share that Vision Forum is bringing back Ballantyne to tell his stories anew, offering today’s boys and families tales of grit, determination, exploration, and spirited adventure around the globe, each written from an unabashedly Christian perspective.
Born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1825, R. M. Ballantyne was a contemporary of noted authors Rudyard Kipling, G. A. Henty, and H. Rider Haggard. Ballantyne’s timeless stories were enhanced by their reliance upon first-hand experiences and accounts, often stemming from Ballantyne’s personal worldwide travels. In each of his books, Ballantyne self-consciously communicated both a spirit of manly adventure and the duties of Christians toward God and others, emphasizing God’s sovereignty over all of life.
Today’s R. M. Ballantyne readers inherit a treasure trove of classic tales featuring 19th century history, manly adventure, and Christian character. Each Ballantyne story reveals a lost era of chivalry and self-sacrifice, replete with exciting accounts of courage, fortitude, and perseverance in realms ranging from the British Isles, to South America, to the North Pole. Readers of all ages are now heirs to Ballantyne’s literary legacy of God-honoring adventure tales, and I encourage all those reading this post to consider adding Ballantyne to their own families’ libraries.
Forthcoming Titles
- The Coral Island: A Tale of the Pacific Ocean
- The Gorilla Hunters: A Tale of the Wilds of Africa
- Hunted and Harried: A Tale of the Scottish Covenanters
- Martin Rattler: Adventures of a Boy in the Forests of Brazil
- The Giant of the North: Pokings Round the Pole
- Blue Lights, or Hot Work in the Soudan
- The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale
- Red Rooney, or The Last of the Crew
- The Young Fur-Traders: A Tale of the Far North
- Deep Down: A Tale of the Cornish Mines
Watch for Vision Forum’s release of ten R. M. Ballantyne books in the next week or so. I hope to post a personal review of Ballantyne’s most famous work, The Coral Island, on Monday.
Labels: Adventure, Books, R. M. Ballantyne
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
September 6, 2006
This morning we grabbed another hotel continental breakfast and hit the pavement. After a rather circuitous route up, down, around, and through Hyde Park, Dad and I finally found our way and headed toward Buckingham Palace.
Outside the Palace we purchased a special pass that afforded us access to The Queen’s Gallery, the Royal Mews, and the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. Our first stop was the Queen’s Gallery. The Gallery consisted of artwork, antique furniture, china, etc., and was a relatively small exhibit for the ticket cost (the price of royalty, I suppose). Our Queen’s Gallery visit was brief, and we soon moved to the Royal Mews.
The Royal Mews is where the traditional royal carriages are housed, as well as the more modern royal motor "carriages." The royal horses are also stabled here, and a still-active riding school is also located on the grounds. Each carriage---there are seven, I believe---has its own significance and use. Their ornate qualities vary, but each is highly decorated for the singular state occasions in which they take part. By far the most ornately decorated coach we saw was the Gold State Coach, in use for more than 200 years. This carriage was the vehicle of choice for transporting Queen Elizabeth II during her 1953 coronation ceremony.
Departing the Royal Mews, we exited onto the street sidewalk and walked the few hundred yards to the queue outside the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. We soon passed through security and began the State Rooms’ tour. What a tour.
All manner of elegance and royalty emanated from within the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. Numerous works of art masqueraded as furniture. Paintings by Rembrandt, Rubens, Benjamin West, Vermeer, and other masters hung from the walls. Intricate designs covered the ceilings, often in gilded silver.
Walking through the palace we enjoyed a pleasant Summer breezed wafting through the many open windows. I know not what measure of modern air conditioning is required in time of great heat, but on this day the fresh air ventilation more than sufficed (of course, air conditioning could have been simultaneously pumping in on the sly).
Of the three venues we toured, overall I was most impressed by Buckingham Palace. Its grandeur was all I had ever imagined and more; truly a dwelling place fit for royalty (and one which I was most pleased to visit and not inhabit).
Departing Buckingham Palace we headed toward Westminster Abbey. Visiting the Abbey gave much pause for contemplation as we observed a real-life example of form over substance. Westminster Abbey has all the ostentatious, "Christian" grandeur one could imagine (much of it crossing the line of idolatry), yet it possesses no "soul." The Abbey appears nearer linked to man than to God, and its selection of men to honor is at times blasphemous (e.g. Charles Darwin). England’s state church long ago compromised its integrity, and a step-back examination of the many vile, God-hating sovereigns and others memorialized within this supposed "house of God" makes laughable the very thought of such a title.
Some of the placards/floor stones/etc., I did enjoy seeing included Sir Isaac Newton, John and Charles Wesley, Isaac Watts, William Wilberforce, and Oliver Cromwell (Cromwell’s body remained in Westminster Abbey for only three years, at which time it was exhumed and destroyed by vengeful enemies).
After lunch our next stop was the Imperial War Museum, perhaps the most interesting and informative site we had yet visited since arriving in Britain. Although I had expected to focus on primarily World War II history within this museum, much of my perusing instead majored upon post-World War II happenings: the Soviets; Iran; Iraq; Israel; Egypt; Ireland; the U.S.; Vietnam; China; South Africa; India; etc., and their relations with the U.K. I learned quite a bit about the Cold War era, as well as non-U.S. vs. USSR international military actions during that time.
Although we spent a good three hours touring the museum, I doubt we saw more than 1/3 of its contents, this despite skipping many of the "artifacts" displays in favor of the excellent placard commentaries accompanying more interesting (to us) fare. Most of our time was spent in the museum’s basement, and about 30 minutes on the first floor. We never reached floors two or three.
Among the memorabilia housed in the Imperial War Museum were several World War II airplanes and tanks, together with old mortars, bombs, missiles, an ambulance, a piece of the old Berlin wall, and a 14-foot civilian fishing boat used to evacuate British and French soldiers from Dunkirk—the smallest civilian vessel used in that great rescue. Many, many additional historical items were to found in the museum’s halls, but doors closed at 6:00 p.m. and we sadly had to depart.
We killed time for the next hour or so, waiting for the Wednesday evening service at the London Metropolitan Tabernacle to begin. At a little after 7:00 p.m. we entered the church through its right-side glass doors and walked downstairs. There we were greeted at the doors of a large classroom, the older man who greeted us inquiring whether Dad and I were brothers. (Dad responded, "I like you!") Taking our seats, we waited for the 7:30 p.m. service to begin. By service’s start the entire room was filled, containing approximately 200-300 people.
The service commenced with a hymn, a welcome, another hymn, Scripture reading, another hymn, prayer, and an introduction of the evening’s speaker, an elderly pastor from a local Ridley Hall assembly. His message was entitled, "An Unchanging God in a Changing World." Our text was Jeremiah 47:1-28. An excellent exhortation ensued as the pastor urged us to compare our present world and daily challenges to Jeremiah’s time and the struggles he then faced. The pastor clearly stated that, though our world may minimize, excuse, and reject the very concept of sin, God never does, never did, and never will. He does not change, nor does His Law. After a week of observing gross physical immodesty and hollow declarations of "Christianity" throughout Britain, it was most encouraging to hear a different British perspective—a biblical perspective—on life and culture.
Following the service, Dad and I grabbed some light refreshments from the fellowship hall and headed for the church’s Tabernacle Bookshop. There I purchased The Five Points of Calvinism by Dabney and Dickinson, a Sprinkle Publications title which had found its way across "the pond." I look forward to a good read.
We finished making our purchases and departed for the Tube. The remainder of our evening consisted of shower, journal, reading, and bed.
Outside the Palace we purchased a special pass that afforded us access to The Queen’s Gallery, the Royal Mews, and the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. Our first stop was the Queen’s Gallery. The Gallery consisted of artwork, antique furniture, china, etc., and was a relatively small exhibit for the ticket cost (the price of royalty, I suppose). Our Queen’s Gallery visit was brief, and we soon moved to the Royal Mews.
The Royal Mews is where the traditional royal carriages are housed, as well as the more modern royal motor "carriages." The royal horses are also stabled here, and a still-active riding school is also located on the grounds. Each carriage---there are seven, I believe---has its own significance and use. Their ornate qualities vary, but each is highly decorated for the singular state occasions in which they take part. By far the most ornately decorated coach we saw was the Gold State Coach, in use for more than 200 years. This carriage was the vehicle of choice for transporting Queen Elizabeth II during her 1953 coronation ceremony.
Departing the Royal Mews, we exited onto the street sidewalk and walked the few hundred yards to the queue outside the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. We soon passed through security and began the State Rooms’ tour. What a tour.
All manner of elegance and royalty emanated from within the State Rooms of Buckingham Palace. Numerous works of art masqueraded as furniture. Paintings by Rembrandt, Rubens, Benjamin West, Vermeer, and other masters hung from the walls. Intricate designs covered the ceilings, often in gilded silver.
Walking through the palace we enjoyed a pleasant Summer breezed wafting through the many open windows. I know not what measure of modern air conditioning is required in time of great heat, but on this day the fresh air ventilation more than sufficed (of course, air conditioning could have been simultaneously pumping in on the sly).
Of the three venues we toured, overall I was most impressed by Buckingham Palace. Its grandeur was all I had ever imagined and more; truly a dwelling place fit for royalty (and one which I was most pleased to visit and not inhabit).
Departing Buckingham Palace we headed toward Westminster Abbey. Visiting the Abbey gave much pause for contemplation as we observed a real-life example of form over substance. Westminster Abbey has all the ostentatious, "Christian" grandeur one could imagine (much of it crossing the line of idolatry), yet it possesses no "soul." The Abbey appears nearer linked to man than to God, and its selection of men to honor is at times blasphemous (e.g. Charles Darwin). England’s state church long ago compromised its integrity, and a step-back examination of the many vile, God-hating sovereigns and others memorialized within this supposed "house of God" makes laughable the very thought of such a title.
Some of the placards/floor stones/etc., I did enjoy seeing included Sir Isaac Newton, John and Charles Wesley, Isaac Watts, William Wilberforce, and Oliver Cromwell (Cromwell’s body remained in Westminster Abbey for only three years, at which time it was exhumed and destroyed by vengeful enemies).
After lunch our next stop was the Imperial War Museum, perhaps the most interesting and informative site we had yet visited since arriving in Britain. Although I had expected to focus on primarily World War II history within this museum, much of my perusing instead majored upon post-World War II happenings: the Soviets; Iran; Iraq; Israel; Egypt; Ireland; the U.S.; Vietnam; China; South Africa; India; etc., and their relations with the U.K. I learned quite a bit about the Cold War era, as well as non-U.S. vs. USSR international military actions during that time.
Although we spent a good three hours touring the museum, I doubt we saw more than 1/3 of its contents, this despite skipping many of the "artifacts" displays in favor of the excellent placard commentaries accompanying more interesting (to us) fare. Most of our time was spent in the museum’s basement, and about 30 minutes on the first floor. We never reached floors two or three.
Among the memorabilia housed in the Imperial War Museum were several World War II airplanes and tanks, together with old mortars, bombs, missiles, an ambulance, a piece of the old Berlin wall, and a 14-foot civilian fishing boat used to evacuate British and French soldiers from Dunkirk—the smallest civilian vessel used in that great rescue. Many, many additional historical items were to found in the museum’s halls, but doors closed at 6:00 p.m. and we sadly had to depart.
We killed time for the next hour or so, waiting for the Wednesday evening service at the London Metropolitan Tabernacle to begin. At a little after 7:00 p.m. we entered the church through its right-side glass doors and walked downstairs. There we were greeted at the doors of a large classroom, the older man who greeted us inquiring whether Dad and I were brothers. (Dad responded, "I like you!") Taking our seats, we waited for the 7:30 p.m. service to begin. By service’s start the entire room was filled, containing approximately 200-300 people.
The service commenced with a hymn, a welcome, another hymn, Scripture reading, another hymn, prayer, and an introduction of the evening’s speaker, an elderly pastor from a local Ridley Hall assembly. His message was entitled, "An Unchanging God in a Changing World." Our text was Jeremiah 47:1-28. An excellent exhortation ensued as the pastor urged us to compare our present world and daily challenges to Jeremiah’s time and the struggles he then faced. The pastor clearly stated that, though our world may minimize, excuse, and reject the very concept of sin, God never does, never did, and never will. He does not change, nor does His Law. After a week of observing gross physical immodesty and hollow declarations of "Christianity" throughout Britain, it was most encouraging to hear a different British perspective—a biblical perspective—on life and culture.
Following the service, Dad and I grabbed some light refreshments from the fellowship hall and headed for the church’s Tabernacle Bookshop. There I purchased The Five Points of Calvinism by Dabney and Dickinson, a Sprinkle Publications title which had found its way across "the pond." I look forward to a good read.
We finished making our purchases and departed for the Tube. The remainder of our evening consisted of shower, journal, reading, and bed.
Friday, May 04, 2007
September 5, 2006
After another narrow-bed night’s sleep we rose, ate our complimentary continental breakfast of cereal, toast, hot chocolate, etc., and departed the hotel on foot. One does not lack for exercise when touring London.
Our first stop was the Palace of Westminster, also known as the Houses of Parliament, where I snapped photos of Big Ben and other landmarks of interest. Following the nearby changing of the Horse Guard, Dad and I enjoyed a fascinating tour of the Houses of Parliament. Inside and out tradition reigned. From the ornate, regal House of Lords, to the understated and more practically decorated House of Commons, centuries of legislative and political debate live on. My great regret is that so many traditions inside those walls are practiced in form only, as Britain’s heritage of biblically-based common law is scorned by its modern-day heirs. Many are the Esaus of today.
Our guide was articulate and knowledgeable, providing our tour group of 20-30 members a helpful overview of each place we stopped. However, in all her commentary about historical events and characters not one mention of Oliver Cromwell was made (a regrettable fact indeed, considering his courageous application of interposition in the face of unjust and unbiblical "law, " an historical example particularly timely today). One would think that such a unique and impacting personage in British history, and a Member of Parliament to boot, might merit at least a passing remark during a tour of the Houses of Parliament. Apparently not in the estimation of our tour guide (my sense throughout our trip is that Britain would rather forget Cromwell than address the ramifications of his rule).
In the afternoon Dad and I visited the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms located underneath London’s city streets. This museum was formerly the real-life, secret underground headquarters of Winston Churchill and his cabinet during World War II, and the rooms we toured were the same rooms used 60+ years ago to strategize against and defeat the Axis powers. The exhibits about Churchill, from his childhood to his last days, were superb; anyone visiting London should most definitely include this museum in their trip itinerary.
The remainder of our day was spent walking through city parks and generally enjoying the out-of-doors. Before stopping for dinner I endeavored to access the U.S. Embassy in London, seeking to rub shoulders with a bit of America while on friendly, but foreign shores. However, as I approached the heavily guarded access gate one of the armed British personnel informed me that, due to new security measures, I was not permitted to enter the U.S. Embassy without a valid "reason." Apparently my U.S. Passport and polite request to enter did not suffice, as I was denied admittance. I was rather nonplused by a British citizen refusing me access to my own country’s embassy, but I have no reason to believe he was not following American orders in doing so. Good grief.
Dinner consisted of Subway sandwiches and Coke, and was actually quite good. Returning to our humble hotel we watched Chariots of Fire on TV, journaled, and retired to bed.
Our first stop was the Palace of Westminster, also known as the Houses of Parliament, where I snapped photos of Big Ben and other landmarks of interest. Following the nearby changing of the Horse Guard, Dad and I enjoyed a fascinating tour of the Houses of Parliament. Inside and out tradition reigned. From the ornate, regal House of Lords, to the understated and more practically decorated House of Commons, centuries of legislative and political debate live on. My great regret is that so many traditions inside those walls are practiced in form only, as Britain’s heritage of biblically-based common law is scorned by its modern-day heirs. Many are the Esaus of today.
Our guide was articulate and knowledgeable, providing our tour group of 20-30 members a helpful overview of each place we stopped. However, in all her commentary about historical events and characters not one mention of Oliver Cromwell was made (a regrettable fact indeed, considering his courageous application of interposition in the face of unjust and unbiblical "law, " an historical example particularly timely today). One would think that such a unique and impacting personage in British history, and a Member of Parliament to boot, might merit at least a passing remark during a tour of the Houses of Parliament. Apparently not in the estimation of our tour guide (my sense throughout our trip is that Britain would rather forget Cromwell than address the ramifications of his rule).
In the afternoon Dad and I visited the Churchill Museum and Cabinet War Rooms located underneath London’s city streets. This museum was formerly the real-life, secret underground headquarters of Winston Churchill and his cabinet during World War II, and the rooms we toured were the same rooms used 60+ years ago to strategize against and defeat the Axis powers. The exhibits about Churchill, from his childhood to his last days, were superb; anyone visiting London should most definitely include this museum in their trip itinerary.
The remainder of our day was spent walking through city parks and generally enjoying the out-of-doors. Before stopping for dinner I endeavored to access the U.S. Embassy in London, seeking to rub shoulders with a bit of America while on friendly, but foreign shores. However, as I approached the heavily guarded access gate one of the armed British personnel informed me that, due to new security measures, I was not permitted to enter the U.S. Embassy without a valid "reason." Apparently my U.S. Passport and polite request to enter did not suffice, as I was denied admittance. I was rather nonplused by a British citizen refusing me access to my own country’s embassy, but I have no reason to believe he was not following American orders in doing so. Good grief.
Dinner consisted of Subway sandwiches and Coke, and was actually quite good. Returning to our humble hotel we watched Chariots of Fire on TV, journaled, and retired to bed.















