tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62690967938168322442024-03-13T20:08:09.232-07:00The Man Who Would Be KnightRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.comBlogger303125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-20196119196932746162015-03-21T19:34:00.001-07:002015-03-21T19:34:59.856-07:00Why Breastmilk is Like Manna
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Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-28827120006493627992015-03-02T12:24:00.000-08:002015-03-02T12:24:00.048-08:00Budo 101: Conclusion.*Warning: This story describes an offensive event, and so language and
situations may be offensive to some and are not intended for young
children.
Part I is here. Part II is here.
Budo 101, Continued:
Jack was left sitting in his chair, staring at the principle’s desk, trying not to make eye contact. So that was her dad? No wonder she went berserk. Shit! That’s a dude who Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-51292327001782268262015-03-01T12:20:00.000-08:002015-03-01T12:20:00.216-08:00Budo 101: Part II*
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mso-font-signature:-536870145 Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-11113971519970662942015-02-28T11:10:00.002-08:002015-02-28T11:10:43.970-08:00Budo 101: Part I**Warning: This story describes an offensive event, and so language and situations may be offensive to some and are not intended for young children.
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{font-family:"Cambria Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-59360250094441389062015-02-04T10:17:00.000-08:002015-02-04T10:17:35.494-08:00True Blue
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mso-font-format:Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-23288570140302412072014-12-15T05:30:00.000-08:002014-12-15T05:30:00.783-08:00The Diary of a Country Priest"Dear God, I give you all, willingly. But I don't know how to give, I just let them take. The best is to remain quiet. Because though I may not know how to give, You know how to take... Yet I would have wished to be, just once, magnificently generous to you."
"The Diary of a Country Priest" by Georges Bernanos.
I do not know how to give. The humility of this prayer is heartbreakingly Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-9205918444756101912014-12-13T14:01:00.002-08:002014-12-13T14:01:58.331-08:00Tempted to Hatred
"Pray for me to be made more charitable: we're in the middle of a Faculty crisis wh. tempts me to hatred many times a day."
C. S. Lewis, in a Letter to Sheldom Vanauken,
Quoted in "A Severe Mercy," by Sheldon Vanauken
They provoked him at the waters of Meribah.
Through their fault it went ill with Moses;
for they made his heart grow bitter
and he uttered words that were rash.
Psalm 106:Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-89132105274525760922014-12-11T21:05:00.000-08:002014-12-11T21:05:00.361-08:00In the Beginning
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Ebola has been much in the news, lately, so much so that even someone as relatively uncurrent as I choose to be cannot help but hear about it. Currently two nurses in Dallas, Texas who were treating a Liberian Ebola victim are diagnosed with the disease, and some nervousness ensued in Ohio after it was found that one of the nurses flew to Ohio while on quarantine and with a mild fever. She was Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-57197066257623165982014-10-13T13:24:00.000-07:002014-10-13T13:24:15.192-07:00Deadlift
Crushed my soul today
With three-fifteen times forty.
Useless without love.
Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-68972073820456961572014-10-12T20:02:00.001-07:002014-10-12T20:02:08.559-07:00ObstaclesLast week I wrote about the need to have a morning prayer time, and the obstacles that always coincidentally show up just when you want to set aside some prayer time. Ironically, the very next morning I had an unusually stubborn obstacle to overcome.
I got up at 4:30 and was driving to church for a holy hour. My truck was almost out of gas, so I stopped at the gas station to fill it up. I swipedRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-6820416984123180572014-10-09T06:30:00.000-07:002014-10-09T06:32:50.856-07:00Mary, Martha, and the Primacy of ContemplationAs much as I hate to admit it, there is a certain hierarchy in the spiritual life, as in the physical world. It is, perhaps, the most uncomfortable thing about the faith, that some things are true, others are not, and there is no getting around them when they are. The second most uncomfortable thing is the knowledge that I am fallible, and therefore I never truly know when I am right, and when I Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-12590614044496607432014-10-08T06:30:00.000-07:002014-10-08T06:30:01.334-07:00Martha and Mary: Failure and the Five Love Languages
Jesus entered a village where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.She had a sister named Marywho sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak. Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,“Lord, do you not carethat my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” The Lord said to her in reply,“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried aboutRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-60740590569538991992014-10-07T06:30:00.000-07:002014-10-07T06:30:00.567-07:00Longinus
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Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-68506694630988885772014-10-04T14:47:00.000-07:002014-10-04T14:47:24.480-07:00Failing at Life
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Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-40266438857314030902014-09-23T21:51:00.000-07:002014-09-23T21:51:10.233-07:00The Greatest Compliment Ever Given
Yesterday our Bible study covered the readings for September 23, 2014. The gospel was Luke 8:19-21, a very short but very dense gospel.
The mother of Jesus and his brothers came to himbut were unable to join him because of the crowd.He was told, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outsideand they wish to see you.”He said to them in reply, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-4365374894518005792014-09-21T13:42:00.002-07:002014-09-21T13:42:26.186-07:00Babies R Us, Or, How I Realized that my Life is a Miracle!!!
Creating a baby registry at Babies R Us, can be something of a spiritual epiphany. As my wife and I approached the priestesses at the altar of customer service, we were greeted with joy, warmth, fellowship and unlimited knowledge-of-all-of-the-baby-things, which they promised to impart to us for absolutely free (for six months with financing!)
The first thing they offered to do was to take allRyanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-86744452720457336292014-09-19T18:11:00.000-07:002014-09-19T18:11:00.021-07:00Art as Prophecy
"Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still..."
T. S. Eliot, "Burnt Norton."
If art is communication of vision, then true art
is prophesy. Each human person sees, or at least is called to see, some
aspect of God that no other creature in existence Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-59270348772210347442014-09-18T18:09:00.000-07:002014-09-18T18:09:00.137-07:00Prophecy: Your Own Kind of Crazy
A Leader
is a fellow
who refuses to be crazy
the way everybody else is crazy
and tries to be crazy
in his own crazy way.
Peter Maurin, "Easy Essays."
The idea of prophecy has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I am not sure why. I remember in my early days of Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-69719209850776458972014-09-17T16:33:00.004-07:002014-09-17T16:33:56.887-07:00Set Apart Humanity
I have watched a number of movies lately that seemed to have a theme in common. The two that come to mind had a definite "teen sci-fi" flare to them: "Divergent," and "The Giver." While I hesitate to lump the two into the same category (and will no doubt be mentally excoriated for doing so by any who have seen both) they have a lot of similarities. Both are based on novels marketed Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-16385876765997034802014-09-16T15:04:00.001-07:002014-09-16T15:04:40.858-07:00Slow Detachment
There are three conditions which often look alike
Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow:
Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment
From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference
Which resembles the others as death resembles life,
T. S. Eliot, "Little Gidding."
A picture of a messy garage which is not ours, added Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-82493764658263711292014-08-30T08:37:00.002-07:002014-08-30T08:37:49.096-07:00The Price of Mastery
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The other day I got to help my younger brother move furniture. He and his fiancee' are preparing to merge apartments as their wedding approaches, and moving several pickup truck loads of furniture was the next step. It was great to help out with that, because, both of us being busy adults, we had not gotten time to hang out in a few weeks. I was in Georgia, studying for my National Registry Ryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10149992370708449951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6269096793816832244.post-43486722778698623502014-08-19T20:15:00.000-07:002014-08-19T20:15:09.521-07:00Conversation
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