I started reading comic books in the mid 1970’s.
I was then, and continue to be a DC guy, but by the time I got into Marvel in 1978 the comics were all presented by Stan Lee, but Stan Lee himself was already gone from the day-to-day production of Marvel comics.
It’s been over forty years since Lee last really regularly wrote comics, with various items since then of a one-off or special nature.
Yet it is true to say that Lee gave the characters created before 1970 their voices, and set the pattern for the way in which the lives of those characters would be portrayed.
Even those characters created after 1970, who form a substantial portion of the portfolio of characters that are part of the public consciousness bear the stamp of Lee’s characterisations.
Until the mid-seventies the template for the artistic depiction of Marvel’s characters was that of Jack Kirby.
Through till today the template for the written characterisation of all superhero comics is basically that of Stan Lee.
There will be much debate about the levels of recognition that should be afforded to the co-creators who worked with Lee.
But what should not be open to debate is that without Lee’s contribution US comic books in their current form would not exist, nor would they sound like they do in terms of the stories they tell.

I didn’t read comics when Stan Lee was creating the substantial body of work for which he is known.
But all the comics I have read have been created in the shadow of his contribution.

Excelsior!

Abigail Dodds writes an article that directly addresses women, but speaks to the experience of every Christian.
She contends that increasing age should represent a growth in more that the number of candles on our birthday cakes.

Now, instead of growing old, we are growing new. The mature Christian woman is the one who has been new for a long time. The mature Christian woman is the one who’s been with Christ long enough to have the unbelief of adulthood reworked into childlike faith. The mature Christian woman is the one who, though outwardly wasting away, is getting newer every single day (2 Cor. 4:16).
Yet how can a mind that’s growing old and forgetful also grow new? We all use our minds on something; perhaps not through relinquishing brain cells via childbirth, but in some form or another, our minds are spent. I have given my mind to storing information like: the location of the stray sock belonging to the 11-year-old, what chapter the 8-year-old needs to finish for history this week, when early bird registration ends for my oldest kids’ youth retreat, who needs new snow boots this year, what meetings my husband has this week. And even more importantly: what area of discipleship needs attention in each child, what godly habits could use further cultivating, what opportunities were missed last week for building up, connection, and growing together. All the data and information at times seem to crowd out coherence! What am I but a jumble of seemingly random, but repetitive, facts and concerns?
But this is a fertile place for newness to grow—in a mind and heart stuffed with the details and rhythms of life, worn out in the work God has entrusted. Our minds aren’t compromised by being used up; they’re replenished with something better than sharpness or quick-wits or brilliance. They’re replenished with a dependent wisdom that only Christ can supply, so that over the course of our lives—as we give away our brain space for the sake of those around us—we gain a mind that holds more than ours ever could have. We gain the mind of Christ, filled with humility, trust, and faith.

Read the whole post at Gospel Coalition.

Joni Eareckson Tada is well known as a Christian how ministers from a life experience as a paraplegic.
In an article taken from her book Heaven she recounts a situation where, after another painful physical therapy situation, she hears a question, and responds:

“I bet you can’t wait for heaven. You know, like Paul said, ‘We groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling’” (2 Cor. 5:2).
My eyes dampened again, but this time they were tears of relief. “Yeah, it’ll be great.”
In that moment, I sat and dreamed what I’ve dreamed of a thousand times: the hope of heaven. I recited 1 Corinthians 15 (“The perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable”), mentally rehearsed a flood of other promises, and fixed the eyes of my heart on future divine fulfillments. That was all I needed. I opened my eyes and said out loud, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus.”
This experience often occurs two or three times a week. Physical affliction and emotional pain are, frankly, part of my daily routine. But these hardships are God’s way of helping me to get my mind on the hereafter. And I don’t mean the hereafter as a death wish, psychological crutch, or escape from reality—I mean it as the true reality.
Looking down on my problems from heaven’s perspective, trials looked extraordinarily different. When viewed from below, my paralysis seems like a huge, impassable wall, but when viewed from above, the wall appears as a thin line, something that can be overcome. It is, I’ve discovered with delight, the bird’s-eye view found in Isaiah 40:31: “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Read the whole post at Christianity Today.

I Will Wait is from Matt Searles’ new album, Watches Of The Night.

The lyrics:
1.
To you O Lord I lift my soul
In deep distress I cry
I need your mercy every hour
O hear me from on high
2.
If you O Lord should mark our sins
Who could before you stand
forgiveness comes from you alone
And mercy from your hand
Chorus
I will wait for you
I will wait my Lord
I will wait for you
More than watchmen for the dawn
More than watchmen for the dawn
3
Come put your trust in God alone
His mercy never fails
Redemption’s light has dawned on us
Behold the coming day

Words and Music: Matt Searles