online meanderings: the blog olympics

Here are the top posts of the week. Well, the ones I've read, anyway. You'll notice some are much older than last week. But I read them for the first time last week, so they're my posts of the week.

First, second and third place-getters are right at the end, so like the most nail-biting Olympic event, you'll have to read this post right through to find my favourites. Gotcha.

Since it's the Beijing Olympics, let's begin with this sobering and timely reminder of the persecution of Christians in China, and a fantastic post on how to pray for persecuted Christians.

There's an excellent discussion of the importance of interpreting the Bible carefully when you teach Sunday School in hermeneutics and children's curriculum.

And we're reminded why iPods are no substitute for church in computerised church.

Now here's one with staying power: this was the week Honoria's blog turned 1. She's celebrated the day with a book of lists of her year's blogging. Happy birthday Honoria.

Gavin Perkins at Sola Panel mused on how new will the new creation be, an excellent follow-up (or foundation) for his earlier post on work and the kingdom of God. I found it very helpful for my own thinking about work.

Coming up on the inside lane is this helpful reminder that marriage is not the ultimate relationship, and a post about the kind of marriage you'll want to avoid.

We're now at third place, with a wonderful reflection by John Piper on the morning I heard the voice of God.

In second place is joy comes with the morning, a moving testimony from Joni Eareckson about joy in suffering. “I find it so poignant that finally at the point when I do have the use of my arms to wipe away my own tears, I won’t have to, because God will.”

First place (drum roll please) goes to Nicole's the same earth, a sobering reminder of our own mortality. May we learn to number our days, and use well our brief time on this earth:

You turn men back to dust,
saying, "Return to dust, O sons of men."
You sweep men away in the sleep of death;
they are like the new grass of the morning-
though in the morning it springs up new,
by evening it is dry and withered.
The length of our days is seventy years—
or eighty, if we have the strength;
yet their span is but trouble and sorrow,
for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
Who knows the power of your anger?
For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you.
Teach us to number our days aright,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
(Psalm 90:3, 5-6, 10-12)

With thanks to Gordon's shared items and Nicole's shared items: they work hard trawling the internet, and I take base advantage every week.