• Bluebelle,  Church Life,  Daily Life,  Holy Days,  Jinx,  Lectio Divina,  Photographs,  Prayers,  Reflections

    First Friday In Lent

    These last few months, I have felt like the tip of a bullwhip, yanked back and forth, snapping and popping with violence that almost tore my spiritual head off, then easing back to a casual, flyfishing rhythm for a few weeks, then back to the crack and snap. Being able to leave my former job and start a new one has helped immensely. It is a truly good thing to be able to work from the home that I love so much. Mrs. Orr enjoys having me here, and the dogs all seem to like it, too.  The new job is not without its own set of stressors, but most…

  • Books,  Church Life,  Daily Life,  I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation,  Lectio Divina,  Prayers,  Reflections

    Suffering’s Work

    I have for the last several days been in a sustained mood of contemplation and prayer, feeling and responding to an almost urgent sense of needing to pray, to seek companionship with God the Father, with Christ the Lord, with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and with my patron saint, the Maid — St. Joan of Arc. Today before entering my place of work, I offered a very focused supplication that I might not be drawn into nor affected by the dozens of little soap operas whirling about me on any given day. Regular readers of this blog know that I have been battered by the foolishness that is the norm…

  • Church Life,  Daily Life,  Reflections

    Prisstianity

    I’m trying very diligently these days to tune out people around me when I am at work, not listening to any conversation which is not directly work-related, not watching their faces or gauging their reactions to others’ words. This is essential for my own tranquility, because I work with a group that is probably a microcosm of what most people think of when encountering the term “office politics.” One young woman (the term “gal” seems completely apt when I think of her) requires me to exert considerable mental effort in order to block out her constant chatter and noise. She is very typical of many people I encounter these days,…

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  • Daily Life,  Memoirs,  Reflections

    Under A Pink Moon

    Have you ever noticed it? The way an approaching change in weather can be detected by all creatures beneath the gaze of heaven? Birds will skim the sweet grass, seeking insects before a drenching rain, and cows will lie down in the fields, resting the joints that the coming showers foretell in them, just as the stooped farmer feels the same ground-glass ache in his knotted knuckles. The very trees seem to face the wind and cross their arms, wondering if this will be the toppling day, or if tomorrow will see them still stretching above the quilt of still things, the soil and dirt that listen, that are aware,…

  • Daily Life,  Prayers,  Reflections

    Glimpse Impression

    The car moved towards me in the parking lot this morning when I arrived. It was still dark, and the lights on their tall poles threw their long cone-beams down onto the damp asphalt. I heard it before I saw it, a rough, laboring engine in an older vehicle. I stopped to let it pass before crossing the lot. The light fell on the car and showed me the driver. Single mom, I thought. She was young, with still-wet hair plastered down on her head, her face full of the kind of worried concentration that comes from paying bills with credit cards, accepting donations from food pantries and smug relatives,…

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  • Lectio Divina,  Memoirs,  Prayers,  Reflections

    The Map Of Scars

    I dreamed of my daddy last night, which was unusual. I rarely dream of him, probably because I didn’t really know him at all, having only seen him less than forty times in my life. In the dream, I couldn’t see Daddy’s face clearly. This has been a lifelong pattern for me. So often, I will look someone full in the face in one of my dreams but the face will be blurred or occluded in some way. I can see the person from the periphery of my vision, but a direct gaze will immediately blur the center of my dream-vision. It is like mercury, forever running and shifting away…

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  • Reflections,  Reviews

    H.M.S Cistercian

    My recent pilgrimage to the monastery of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky has deepened my appreciation for the writings of the abbey’s most famous monk, Thomas Merton. I have been reading with much enjoyment Merton’s lively history of the Order of the Cisterians of the Strict Observance, also known as the Trappists. The book, The Waters of Siloe, describes the origin of the order and how persecuted French monks came to the shores of the United States to establish the monastery where Merton spent his hidden contemplative life. Having been inspired by Bruce Charlton and the writers at the Junior Ganymede blog to read a bit of Mormon history, I have…

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  • Lectio Divina,  Memoirs,  Prayers,  Reflections

    In A Trying Time

    A hot, bleak, disappointing day, and sitting here in the quiet of a cool room, I am grateful that it is at an end. Two sizable disappointments bled the day of much of its appeal. One was a considerable setback at my job, which does not bode well for me in the coming weeks. The other was a bit of dismal financial news, arriving when I reached home this evening. And yet I do not feel crushed or despondent, and my spirits are cheery and calm. I believe the credit for my calmness in the face of disappointment goes to two mp3’s to which I listened today. This morning on…

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  • I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation,  Reflections

    Let’s Test That Theory

    Yesterday, I spent considerable time thinking on the subject of suffering and how we face trials. If suffering comes today, I thought with the glib certainty of theoretical emotion, I would be able to endure it better than in the past. In the evening, our nearest neighbor, a dear woman whom we love and appreciate, came to the door bearing gifts. She had almost two dozen large brown eggs from her son’s hens, and a sack full of tomatoes and cucumbers. We stood chatting in the fading light while the hummingbirds flew resupply missions in the muggy air above our heads. Nodding at the eggs, she said, “We’ve got to…

  • Memoirs,  Reflections

    In The Press

    As I mentioned at the end of my last brief post, I made a pilgrimage that I’ve been pondering for a while. I returned last week and took some time before attempting to set down a few thoughts here. In recent months I’ve undergone considerable emotional and spiritual stress, some of it from factors beyond my control. The cracks in my foundations have begun to show, and my wife suggested with loving firmness that it was time I made the trip I had been talking about for some time. Back during my very brief time in a college classroom, I had the good fortune to sit under the teaching of…