Inserra has a pointed conversation about what it actually means to follow Jesus — one that targets everyone willing to call themselves a Christian. He removes the excuses that make us feel better about our lack of action about what many of us name as important, but our actions show that we don't prioritize. He makes the case that discipleship is something you pursue, not a label you inherit from a pew.

Lewis uses this book to explain what it means to simply be a Christian. He focuses on the central tenets of the Gospel and makes us resolve the only question that matters: who is Jesus? One of his greatest arguments about Christ crystallizes this problem: Jesus can only be one of three things; He can either be insane, on the level of some lunatic disconnected from the world; He can be a liar, intentionally deceiving the people around Him; or He is who He says He is, that makes Him Lord of all.

It is in our nature to think we deserve a unique exception — that bending the rule is fine for us, but anyone else doing it should answer for it. When that internal narrative runs into a reality that doesn't accommodate it, we take offense and think less of others. Hansen makes the case that our anger is almost never righteous in the way we tell ourselves it is, and that releasing it is one of the most genuinely humble acts available to us.

Staton builds the practice of prayer back up to where it has fallen from — drawing on songs, poems, lived experiences, and the examples of those who have prayed consistently and been shaped by it. Prayer is a private, hidden discipline; it is rarely recorded for its poise or prose. But the acts of a Hero are only recorded after the magnitude of their practice can be viewed in what was accomplished. Diligent daily prayer hones the spirit the same way — quietly, out of sight, consistently, and that practice changes us into something Heroic.

This is not a book about the Gospel, but it may be one of the most Gospel-centered books I have read. Guidara writes about what it means to go beyond what people are expecting — and he never mentions Scripture, never talks about religion. But when you read it with Jesus in the front of your mind, you start to see how Guidara has taken up the mantle of "do to others as you would have them do to you" in a way that is nothing short of revolutionary. Looking at the example he provides, we start to see what it would mean to make the daily choice to exceed what is expected — and that is precisely where Heroism is built.

Tyson opened my eyes to something I should've seen sooner; attendance and being present aren't the same thing. Actually shaping someone requires me to be intentional with my actions; the marked moments and rites of passage he builds around fathers and sons work the same for anyone shaping someone else. This is the type of person I am aiming to be and what I want to help anyone coming behind me grow into.

Comer has written a book that teaches believers practices that have been largely forgotten by generations of Christians inside the church. He reminds us that being a follower of the one called Christ is a decision that requires constant and diligent practice. This practice must be built into our lives, and become a part of the daily journey. That these practices aren't new, nor are they groundbreaking, but that they are deep and ancient and have been used by all of the people of God, from the foundation of the world.

Lawrence fights the ever-downward pull of life by learning to live in God's presence regardless of what he was doing. Whether gardening, cooking, or cleaning, he practiced what he called the Presence of God in all of it — not as a spiritual exercise set apart from daily work, but woven into it. His book is his explanation of what that looks like, and how anyone willing can learn to practice it themselves.