Faithful Friday: Junipero Serra

If you’ve ever heard the Ink Spots’ 1940 hit “When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano”, you have St. Junipero Serra to thank. Junipero was born Miquel Serra on Majorca, an island off the coast of Spain. He joined the Franciscan monks…

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Time is But the Livestream I Go a-Programming In

Someone near and dear to my pancreas gave (“gifted” is not a verb) me one of those clever aluminum MeWatches that claim to make one’s life more interesting in many ways and which come without any instructions because not sending instructions with a product is such a cool thing now.

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The Stillness of the Summer Solstice

Short strings of words that breathe and sigh as songs
Sunflowers fainting in the afternoon
A treefrog pulsing on the windowpane
Ladybugs drowsing on a tomato leaf

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Mentum Caduca

eyes like fire
and heart like frost
mind of mire
soul exhaust

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Faithful Friday: Theodore Beza

Theodore Beza was one of the lesser known Reformed theologians of the first hundred years of the Reformation, however, his influence on the Reformed movement cannot be denied.

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All Literature Is World Literature

All literature is world literature / A culture that hugs itself to itself / And refuses to share and share alike / Consumes itself in a closed loop, and dies

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Adil’s Tuxedo

Adil paces the floor
Impatiently waiting for a very important package to arrive.
His suit, the suit, the perfect tuxedo for his wedding
A vintage tuxedo like that worn by Cary Grant

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Faithful Friday: Dr. J. Vernon McGee

John Vernon McGee was born in 1904 in Hillsboro, Texas. His family moved to Tennessee when his father died in 1918. Vernon, as he was known, graduated college then seminary, then became the pastor of a church first in Decatur, Georgia, and afterward in Cleburne, Texas. It was there that Vernon met his future wife, Ruth Inez Jordan.

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The Riddle of Amaryllion: Part 5. Matthew’s Epilogue

“So, um, was the emergency taken care of satisfactorily?” asked Kathleen. 
Matthew nodded, “Very satisfactorily, thank you. And I certainly hope that another one will not rise which will prevent you from seeing the rabbit’s name.”

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A Dog, a Pocketknife, a Twenty-Two

A dog, a pocketknife, a twenty-two
The rightful possessions of every Texas lad
For working out the values he must live up to
The virtues that he learned from his solid ol’ Dad

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A Rising Seedling Roars

Crumple clenched fist leaf flings up
From damp earth’s deep urn and dark
On furied stipple stems fluorescent green
Vitality gleaned from seed pod potential

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Faithful Friday: Ephrem the Syrian

Ephrem the Syrian was born in Nisibis, in the province of Mesopotamia (now Nusaybin, Turkey, lying 166 miles from Mosul, Iraq) in approximately 306 AD… Ephrem was baptized as a youth and began right away in building up the Body of Christ in Nisibis as a deacon. It is also highly likely that he was a “son of the Covenant,” an early type of friar or lay brother.  As a deacon, he used his gift as a poet and composer to write instructional hymns, teaching the people to confront heresy through song. 

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The Riddle of Amaryllion: Part 3. The Second Clue

“You know how in all those fairy tales when someone’s under a curse and asks someone to do something or not to do something, there’s a reason behind it. I’ll trust Elliot and the rabbit on this one and not speak a word about what color it is.”

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Each Altar is Minas Tirith

Each Altar is Minas Tirith these days
A city of kings and of the true King
Behind whose twice-barred gates and golden doors
The faithful may find refuge for a time

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Be A Lifeline

We are pleased to present everything on our website to you free of charge, but we would greatly appreciate your financial support to help with our expenses. A reoccurring donation of just $2 is a lifeline…

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Faithful Friday: Justin Martyr

Justin Martyr was an early Christian apologist, born about the year 100 AD. He was a student of philosophy and was converted circa 130 AD in part by the witness of martyrs going joyfully to their deaths.

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I’m Afraid of Parole

Tomorrow his mother and his little girl 
Will meet him at the gate and take him home 
No more white suits and big boondocker boots 
No wire, no bells, no lining up for counts

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