ANGLICAN WAY INSTITUTE
Forming our faith, life, and view of the world according to the Anglican Way of following Christ
I would like to extend an invitation to all visitors and friends of this blog to attend the annual "Anglican Way" Conference. It is held in Dallas, TX, July 2nd-6th and is a wonderful time of fellowship amongst people of our generation who are eagerly seeking after the truth, and willing to think and pray through the theological and practical issues which assail serious Christians in our culture today.
This year's topic is "Finding Grace Through the Sacraments". If you or anyone you know might be interested, please pass on the invite and direct them to this link for more information: http://anglicanwayinstitute.org
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Squirrel Story
Once upon a time there was a woman who was a real mountain-woman. She took her six children camping every summer, thinkin’ the fresh air would do their over-taxed craniums some good. Wellll, these weren’t quite normal children. A few too many brain cells and shotguns amongst them to mean any good for anyone. Now, this woman had a whole swathe of boys out campin’ with her the summer long, and ONE lil’ girl.
If you’ve ever known a girl who grew up with a lot of boys, you might know that she often ends up a little more heartless and tough than the boys (a mix of necessity and overcompensation). This particular girl was of such a stripe.
The tent was pitched, and mom was a’cookin’ that day when the little girl wandered off with a gun tucked comfortably in her armpit (you know, that way you always see in the old westerns when the bad guy struts with gun crooked through his arm in that particular way).
Now, I’m absolutely sure this lil’ girl had nuthin’ in her head but good intentions. It was that damned squirrel that had the nerve to look so perrty and tasty, jumpin’ from branch to branch like IT owned the forest (which was certainly NOT true, cause these woods was that little girl’s). Driven by a twinge of tree-jumpin’-envy, she took that gun and butted it, aimed, and fired. VICTORY!!! Such a gleam ran through those eyes, a smile on those lips……
But in the cloud of smoke and flame of conquest, a placid mother’s face appeared right ’bout where that squirrel had dropped to the ground. If only it’d been a ghost, or a vision, or somesuch - but no. That was the real mother alright. She looked down, then up without a single hint of what was goin’ through her mind. Was she mad? Was she glad? Was she proud of her lil’ half pint’s shot?
Two words and a pointed finger at the carcass of that poor animal was all it took. “Yo’ supper”, she said, turned, and walked away.
That little girl had to defur, skin, slice, and fry that squirrel (can’t e’en mention what she was saying while doin’ that!!). She ate every bit, pretendin’ it was as lovely as mama’s steak pie. The boys laughed, but she never cried. She also never shot another squirrel…….well, that might be a fib, she just made sure here mama wasn’t nowhere near.
[Stories from my childhood...]
If you’ve ever known a girl who grew up with a lot of boys, you might know that she often ends up a little more heartless and tough than the boys (a mix of necessity and overcompensation). This particular girl was of such a stripe.
The tent was pitched, and mom was a’cookin’ that day when the little girl wandered off with a gun tucked comfortably in her armpit (you know, that way you always see in the old westerns when the bad guy struts with gun crooked through his arm in that particular way).
Now, I’m absolutely sure this lil’ girl had nuthin’ in her head but good intentions. It was that damned squirrel that had the nerve to look so perrty and tasty, jumpin’ from branch to branch like IT owned the forest (which was certainly NOT true, cause these woods was that little girl’s). Driven by a twinge of tree-jumpin’-envy, she took that gun and butted it, aimed, and fired. VICTORY!!! Such a gleam ran through those eyes, a smile on those lips……
But in the cloud of smoke and flame of conquest, a placid mother’s face appeared right ’bout where that squirrel had dropped to the ground. If only it’d been a ghost, or a vision, or somesuch - but no. That was the real mother alright. She looked down, then up without a single hint of what was goin’ through her mind. Was she mad? Was she glad? Was she proud of her lil’ half pint’s shot?
Two words and a pointed finger at the carcass of that poor animal was all it took. “Yo’ supper”, she said, turned, and walked away.
That little girl had to defur, skin, slice, and fry that squirrel (can’t e’en mention what she was saying while doin’ that!!). She ate every bit, pretendin’ it was as lovely as mama’s steak pie. The boys laughed, but she never cried. She also never shot another squirrel…….well, that might be a fib, she just made sure here mama wasn’t nowhere near.
[Stories from my childhood...]
Friday, May 16, 2008
Laboro, Amo, et Confundo
Laborolaborare, laboravi, laboratum: Latin 1st Conjugation Present Active Indicative 1st Person Singular = "I work"
Amo, amare, amavi, amatum: "I love"
Confundo, confundare, confundavi, confundatum: "I blend, mix, confuse/confound"
This post will probably not make a lick of sense to many of you, but to the few who understand.... I will also warn you that there is no conclusion, though perhaps you can comment and make one.
I had a revelation recently. A very mundane revelation. I realized the other day that I am still in school and pursuing medical training so that I can work with the people I love to work with and do something that I love to do - and get paid for it. And that has seemed the most noble and perfectly correct path for me to walk on. Not being independently wealthy, or familialy wealthy, or any other kind of wealthy, I can't afford to do humanitarian aid and voluntary work every day for the rest of my life. So without intentionally cognating, I pursued medical (which I enjoy) so that I could support myself (which I need) so that I could pursue needy people (whom I love). Make sense?
Revelation (not of St. John, but of Nicole's slightly slow cranium):
With all my assortment of past jobs (waitress, secretary, baker, hardware-girl, construction, teacher, and *coming soon*: spotted owl researcher [more on that later]) it never occurred to me that I may have to choose a career that I didn't love, that didn't inspire and touch me - a career that wasn't my discerned calling. And in a moment I realized that most adults probably don't have the luxury of combining those two. "Do what you love, love what you do" is that realistic? "If you can't do what you love, love what you do" are much harder words for an idealistic optimist like myself, but perhaps more accurate. After two years of teaching (something I never had the desire to do), I have found that in God's good providence and sovereignty I was stretched and grown through working at something that didn't thrill me. He has allowed inspiration along the way, but the hard kind, the kind you have to look for. He has bestowed joy and contentment (not saying I always accepted those....). And as I near the end of my foreseen teaching career, He is granting fulfillment and peace that this was His plan for me, not a deviation from my path, but a continuation on that path which He laid for me before I was born, that path which will be just a tad more illumined because I first had to work and then find how to love that work.
I warned you there wasn't a conclusion. Just thoughts on a life that never stops being enlightened.
Amo, amare, amavi, amatum: "I love"
Confundo, confundare, confundavi, confundatum: "I blend, mix, confuse/confound"
This post will probably not make a lick of sense to many of you, but to the few who understand.... I will also warn you that there is no conclusion, though perhaps you can comment and make one.
I had a revelation recently. A very mundane revelation. I realized the other day that I am still in school and pursuing medical training so that I can work with the people I love to work with and do something that I love to do - and get paid for it. And that has seemed the most noble and perfectly correct path for me to walk on. Not being independently wealthy, or familialy wealthy, or any other kind of wealthy, I can't afford to do humanitarian aid and voluntary work every day for the rest of my life. So without intentionally cognating, I pursued medical (which I enjoy) so that I could support myself (which I need) so that I could pursue needy people (whom I love). Make sense?
Revelation (not of St. John, but of Nicole's slightly slow cranium):
With all my assortment of past jobs (waitress, secretary, baker, hardware-girl, construction, teacher, and *coming soon*: spotted owl researcher [more on that later]) it never occurred to me that I may have to choose a career that I didn't love, that didn't inspire and touch me - a career that wasn't my discerned calling. And in a moment I realized that most adults probably don't have the luxury of combining those two. "Do what you love, love what you do" is that realistic? "If you can't do what you love, love what you do" are much harder words for an idealistic optimist like myself, but perhaps more accurate. After two years of teaching (something I never had the desire to do), I have found that in God's good providence and sovereignty I was stretched and grown through working at something that didn't thrill me. He has allowed inspiration along the way, but the hard kind, the kind you have to look for. He has bestowed joy and contentment (not saying I always accepted those....). And as I near the end of my foreseen teaching career, He is granting fulfillment and peace that this was His plan for me, not a deviation from my path, but a continuation on that path which He laid for me before I was born, that path which will be just a tad more illumined because I first had to work and then find how to love that work.
I warned you there wasn't a conclusion. Just thoughts on a life that never stops being enlightened.
Monday, May 05, 2008
"My Life Dreams"
By my dearest loveliest 1st-3rd Grade Students writing about their life dreams:
"I want to go to Egypt. I want to see pyramids. I want to be a zookeeper. I want to be a Christian. I want to go around the world in a year. I want to be a famous writer. I want to be an artist. I want to be a teacher and write books."
"I would like to be magical. I would be a famous car designer in Philadelphia. I would like a hover-board whith rokets. I would also like a dragon egg."
"I want to find Giza and the tomb of faro [Pharoah...} Khufu."
"I want to biuld towrs and houses and statuse of sand.I want to biuld a hole city with thowsends of peaple."
"I want to have super powers and fly in the sky. I want to have a pet dragon."
And my favorite:
"I would like expecially a lambrginy with rockets."
I love dreams.
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