Rebecca Stark is the author of The Good Portion: Godthe second title in The Good Portion series.

The Good Portion: God explores what Scripture teaches about God in hopes that readers will see his perfection, worth, magnificence, and beauty as they study his triune nature, infinite attributes, and wondrous works. 

                     

Sunday
Jun082008

Not Impressed

snow%20on%20june%208

Three guesses what the white dots in that graphic are. 

Friday
Jun062008

The Blue Belles

Last Sunday  I promised to edit and repost one more of the old wildflower post so you can see another of the blue wildflowers of the Yukon. This one is blooming in my perennial garden right now, so the time for reposting is here. (I’ve also submitted this post to Project Blue at Anna Carson Photography.)
 

tall%20lungwort

We could call this tall lungwort, but that’s just one of it’s names—the one that makes it sound like a deadly disease. I prefer to call them languid ladies, another of their common names, because the flowers look like little women dressed in fancy ball gowns, don’t they? As I tried to take this photo, they danced in the summer wind, looking anything but languid. Perhaps there was a wildflower ball I was not invited to.
 
I could also call them northern bluebells or chiming bells, but I grew up calling harebells by the bluebell name and I’m not about to stop now. So languid ladies it is for me. Harebells grow here, too, by the way, but I haven’t seen any yet this year.
 
If you like eating wild plants, you’ll be happy to know that tall lungwort, as a member of the borage family, is edible. If you like, you can add the little ladies to salads. No, they don’t taste like chicken; they taste like fish. The leaves of the lungwort can be steeped for a delicately fishy tasting tea, too—a tea that was at one time considered useful for treating lung diseases. And now you know where the lungwort name cames from.
 

Previous wildflower posts: 

Thursday
Jun052008

Tweaking the Def

dictionary.jpgI just spent over an hour stewing over the right way to word the definition of solus Christus posted on Monday. I wasn’t satisfied with any of the definitions I came across in my preparations for that post so I made up my own, but I wasn’t quite satisfied with that one either. Tonight I worked on my definition to close up a couple of possible loopholes left with the previous wording. This the result of the fine-tuning:
solus Christus
Literally, “Christ alone.” The reformation slogan meaning that salvation is based exclusively in the mediatorial work of Christ; that his sinless life and substitutionary death are the sufficient and sole grounds on which those who are being saved receive every benefit included in the process of salvation.
I think I’m satisfied with that, but who knows? Tomorrow I may look at it and think it needs more work.