Posts by John Blase

Solstice 2020

That all the world should be vaxxed. The decree rides the winds of this our discontented winter and I find myself thinking of her—Mary—the woman love ruptured that holy horrible night. Dare I pray to you? I was taught there’s no need for an intermediary, but then again what about a friend? The older, worldly…

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Junkyard Advent (Sunday #1)

Today’s Advent reading: …now it is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.—Romans 13:11-12 Word of the…

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Daily Reminder

Yesterday the Daily Reminder reminded me that turtles are not inside their shells, they are their shells. The turtle’s shell is not her home, but her skeleton. Her. This truth led me lumbering down the sands of mind reminding me of the line erroneously attributed to Lewis: “You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” Upon first hearing it,…

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Vox Clamantis in Suburbia 11/16/2020

The runt Aspen tree in our backyard is almost bare now. The wind and cold have thieved the green and gold away. I say thieved, but that’s my perspective. The runt Aspen would say her leaves were not taken, but given. Nature knows better. My daughter’s Aussiepoo has been our guest this weekend. His name…

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On The Off Chance

The sun hits the frost on my neighbor’s roof revealing a field of jewels instead of shingles. Of course, one must take the time to see such rich scenes, scenes that won’t stay. The same revealing sun is the stealing sun, melting them away once again before I finish my cup of coffee. Bread sings…

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Saving Me and God

I hear much these days about the God who is present, the God who is there. This is always presented as an advanced spirituality, one that has transcended the God who rescues, the God who saves. Basically, if my car careens off into the snowbank, God may not send a tow truck to rescue me…

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Vox Clamantis in Suburbia

“There was a part of her she hadn’t yet allowed to be born because it was too beautiful for this place, that was true.” —Denis Johnson, Jesus’ Son Our favorite local weather personality’s first name is Merry, like Merry Christmas! Kudos to her parents for that. Merry told us this wind would blow in this…

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Enough’s Enough

The yard man cometh today to blow-out the sprinklers, his compressor loud enough to wake the dead. His violent hymn means enough—enough of the watering, enough of the rising twice-a-day-three-days-a-week to keep the grass green, enough of the mowing, enough of the paying the godawful water bill. Yet for everything there is a time, a…

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His Cousin’s Keeper

“You’re a piece of work, Bryan.” That’s what Tom said after Bryan announced plans for his new podcast: For Such a Time as This. Bryan had been born again again about two years ago and ever since had increased in zealousy for Jesus to the point where he was losing friends and winning enemies—not Jesus…

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