Anaverse for this February Twenty-ninth

Anaverse for this February Twenty-ninth

Four years have passed
since the day that never was and
I find myself here again,
in this unwanted moment,
this day that never belonged,
this February Twenty-ninth

I was running that year
full strength, head strong
hurtling right off the edge

where I remain, still.

Sick now, pained now,
wearied soul, and forlorn

over empty space where I remain, still.

No sign from above has appeared
to save me though many below bludgeon and harass.
I am lost
but I still hold my ground.

Here is where I hold my ground
and here is where I make my stand
for her my beloved,
for the hand of my beloved.

Here has been, and is, my leap of faith,
caught in between, caught in the middle,
on this day so-called,
this February Twenty-ninth.

It is Well with My Soul

It Is Well With My Soul

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life,
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
A song in the night, oh my soul!

It is Well with My Soul

Nim’s Vintersaga

Join Nim, this Christmas Eve, in his snowy, wintry tale, as he sweeps you away to a world of gremlin hooligans, giants slumbering, wolves slavering, and one little girl whose faith in good remains. Enjoy as Ola Schubert takes you to another place, a magical place, whimsically crafted and beautifully orchestrated, in Nim’s Vintersaga.

The Jian Ghomeshi Saga and Root Causes of Violence Against Women

The following is a letter I submitted to the CBC program The Current, hosted by talented radio personality Anna Maria Tremonti. In the letter, I have put to pen my increasing frustrations about the nature of the discussion surrounding violence against women and why it is that our public conversations never seem to get around to the root causes of the problem, and to exactly why we’re seeing the behaviour that we’re seeing. For the record…

The Jian Ghomeshi Saga and Root Causes of Violence Against Women

I’ve listened with great interest over the past few months to your podcasts and especially those about violence against women. From the #YesAllWomen campaign to the Jian Ghomeshi saga I’ve listened to a number of podcasts and even blogged and tweeted about some of the issues, myself.

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After Atheism: New Perspectives on God and Religion

When I work from home I often listen to podcasts and I’ve been listening to CBC Radio Ideas’ After Atheism this week. This is what I’d call a post-post-modern look at religion and materialism over the past few thousand years. This is a compliment as they recognize things like the resurgence of spiritual interest, the myth of religious violence, the actual (not supposed) factors at play in the separation of church and state. They even recognize Christianity specifically has been behind many social change movements and demonstrably not just an ‘internal, private spirituality’ thing.

The episodes are long and in-depth but, for the first time in a long time, CBC is giving as fair a shake as can be expected to faith in general and, in places, to Christianity in particular.

It’s by no means pro-Christian but it’s decent place for open discussion.

We have to go back

I just got done watching the entire series of Lost on Netflix for the second time. What a trip. What story telling. This time around things came a little bit easier. I more often had “aha!” moments and more than a few head-nods to the writer’s foreshadowing. For having gone as long as it did, for having kept almost all of its cast members the entire time, for having a grand story arch they stuck to and finished, and for the sheer magnitude of the undertaking, I can’t think of a better television series. Believe me, I’m a Browncoat, so you can take that to the bank. ;) So, if we have to go back, here are my main take-aways from the show’s six-year run…*spoiler warning*

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Faith Shaking Scientific Discoveries (Or Not)

Take-away: You know all those big big scientific discoveries that seem to shake your faith just a little bit more each time, if you’re being honest? Actually, they usually end up on the cutting room floor. Just wait a bit, and watch some Christian sources like AIG, CMI, or ICR, and you’ll see these claims often be completely retracted or significantly eviscerated. But you won’t usually find the mainstream media covering this because after all we-were-wrongs aren’t all that exciting. Rest assured all science inevitably, eventually, ends up agreeing with the Bible. Here are just a few of the big discoveries that later turned out to be largely hype…

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Sanctus Valentinus

Oh, Saint, can you hear my voice from ages past?
I hope against hope because your voice seems to be the last.

Oh, Saint, may I ask a question?
Will you proffer a suggestion?

Oh, Saint, to your name, thereof,
My question is this, what is love?

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The Idealist

Aaron Swartz wanted to save the world. Why couldn’t he save himself? -Slate

On Jan. 4, 2013, Aaron Swartz woke up in an excellent mood. “He turned to me,” recalls his girlfriend Taren Stinebrickner-Kauffman, “and said, apropos of nothing, ‘This is going to be a great year.’ ”

On the morning of Jan. 11, one week after he’d insisted it would be a great year, Swartz woke up despondent—lower than Stinebrickner-Kauffman had ever seen him. “I tried everything to get him up,” she says.

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Verse for this February twenty-ninth

Fourteen days have passed since the day that never was, and I find myself here, in this unwanted moment, this day that never belonged, this February twenty-ninth.

I was running that day, full strength and head strong, hurtling towards the precipice, adrenaline fueled, fight or flight blinded, heart pumping, right off the edge

where I remain, here, in the painless agony of the nothingness, waiting for the drop,

waiting to hit ground.

But I remain. Still standing, over empty space. And no sign appears, either falling down above to save me, or rising up  below to skewer me. I am lost, though not without compass, or a promise, and these I clench fast where naught else remain within reach and naught else remain to bear me up.

Here is where I make my stand, by will or not, in this void stillness. Here is where I make my leap of faith, this day so-called, this February twenty-ninth.