bierkergaard

Last winter for Christmas Vacation I sojourned to the snowy Canadian province of Quebec. I wanted winter and I got it. Cold, bitterly cold, and two big snowstorms--one of them a Blizzard. How massive was it? The Winterfest, an annual celebration of carnival rides and such, was completely deserted. I recall the Ferris Wheel spinning around empty. Snow is a lot more enjoyable without shovel duty and driving.  This Christmas Vacation, instead of Mr. Cold Miser, I am Mr. Heat Miser. Mr. 101. Jamaica, Mon. Not resort Jamaica, sitting in some cocooned enclave sipping a rum-infused concoction, but off-the-grid Jamaica. In the Blue Mountains. In search of that elusive perfect cup of coffee. Very much the opposite of the cold austere Quebec, vibrant, lush. I am hoping the rats ain't too massive. Traveling over Christmas has become a tradition. I don't have a family of my own and I don't want to spend the holiday vacation sulking. Don't get me wrong. I am happy to be sing

Luke 13:34 O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that killeth the prophets, and stoneth them that are sent unto her! How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her own brood under her wings, and ye would not! Luke 19:10 For the Son of Man came to make search for those who are wandering from the way, and to be their Saviour. We had our third rendition of Libations: Craft Beer Church on Thursday night at Columbia Kettleworks. I was the speaker and decided to go brief and keep it to 10-15 minutes. Believe me, that is terse for me.  The gist of my message was that Christ makes room for us under the shelter of His wings but we make no room for Him. Or, to find shelter under His branches.  Jesus, the gift of God, not under the tree but on it. Do you like my Craft Beer Bottle Christmas Tree?    For Christians at least, the cares of the world choke out His presence. I think we are far too busy for our own good however we seem to make enough

John 16:13 Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he shall guide you into all the truth: for he shall not speak from himself; but what things soever he shall hear, these shall he speak: and he shall declare unto you the things that are to come. Thanksgiving Weekend I was up at my Dad's cabin. Originally belonging to his parents as a weekend summer getaway, the place has been winterized to a degree. Central to the heating of the innards, is a very large and efficient iron stove, smack dab in the middle of the structure.   Thanksgiving night into Friday morning, the fire had gone low. Embers were still glowing but I was having a difficult time getting a large log and assorted kindling I had placed on the embers to catch the wood on fire. Earlier in the night, my Dad had stoked the fires with something sounding like a bellows which in my semi-conscious state sounded like a giant air pump. Which indeed it was.  Apparently, the macro-air pump is the device utilized

Hey all my loyal readers. I was out of town this weekend and really want to take a day off today because I had a lot of travel to do the last couple of days. I will be back next week here with some fresh thoughts emanating from my mind. Until then, let your thinks be thanks. Eric

My iPhone 7 Taken By Me With My iPhone 5 Mt 9:17 "Nor do they put new wine into old wineskins, or else the wineskins break, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But they put new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved." Mark 2:22 "And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine bursts the wineskins, the wine is spilled, and the wineskins are ruined. But new wine must be put into new wineskins." Luke 5:37, 38 "And no one puts new wine into old wineskins; or else the new wine will burst the wineskins and be spilled, and the wineskins will be ruined.  But new wine must be put into new wineskins, and both are preserved. This last Monday, I has to face the facts. My iPhone 5 was dying. I think the fatal blow was uploading the new iOS10 system a couple of weeks ago. For months, the battery's charge dropped like a stone once unplugged. I would be at work watching the charge percentage fall. I could usually ge

The hues of Bliss more brightly glow, Chastised by sabler tints of woe .... Thomas Gray Friday night I was hanging with a buddy at Columbia Kettleworks. There was a elderly No Hablo Ingles Latino gent hand-rolling cigars so I bought a halfie and stepped outside and gave it a smoke while drinking a brew. After about 30 minutes outside, the cold started to sink into the bones, so we went inside.  We hung out in a newly-renovated and opened part of the building where there were some couches. CKW: Take note that it would be a fine place for a wood-pellet stove. I might never leave.    My buddy and I had some deep conversation, including about both of us having post-concussion syndrome from playing rugby which have impaired us cognitively. His seems 100% attributable to rugby, mine is instead rugby, mountain-biking, and another incident where I got smashed by a couple of my high school boys in a tag football game where they got tired of me blasting them like some kind of tough guy in

And he went back, and took the oxen and put them to death, and cooking their flesh with the yokes of the oxen, he gave the people a feast. Then he got up and went after Elijah and became his servant. 1st Kings 19:21 My favorites disco song of all-time is "Disco Inferno" (not to be confused with Dante's Inferno)  by the Philly-band The Trammps .The key chorus is is "Burn Baby Burn." I have busted many a move in my day to this tune. Not well, mind you. I can't dance. I am not being humble. I can't dance. I was reminded of this " Burn Baby Burn" refrain when trying to think of a catchy title for this week's blog. A good title is like the aroma coming off the BBQ, tantalizing the readers with the smokey seductiveness. Is anyone hungry? (Special bonus if you can name the band in CCM who had this lyric in one of their songs). My present devotional has been excellent. It does what I want a devotional to do. It starts first with a bib

Two Saturdays ago, I went to the annual Bridge Bust where the Columbia-Wrightsville Bridge is closed to vehicular traffic and opened for human traffic. The bridge is over a mile long so it is a rare opportunity to walk the bridge without cars and trucks whizzing by. There is a narrow walk on one of the sides but I rarely walk it because of all of the exhaust. There were vendors lined along the span. It was to be a craft fair of sorts. Instead, it was a crap fair. Junk food, used CDs, knick-knacks, and the like. I did see a "Trump for President" tee-shirt for sale and I was going to take a pic of it and post a comment of " Soon to be worn by a poor kid in the developing world." Just like the gear that gets shipped out when the other team wins the Super Bowl or World Series. The folks strolling the bridge looked on the rough side, not upwardly mobile types.  After the walking of the bridge, I stopped by a Columbia Deli and was introduced to a local type of s

“The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. And surely, from this point of view, the promise of glory, in the sense described, becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory means good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last.” ―   C.S. Lewis ,  The Weight of Glory I am surely not alone to hold C.S. Lewis as the finest writer in modern Christianity, as far as the English language goes. It would be imperialism to assume that other cultures' Christian writers don't measure up since I have not read many of them even in translation.  My book by Soren Kierkegaard "Eighteen Upbuilding Discourses" was translated from Danish into English quite capably by Howard and

Ephesians 2:8 For by grace you are saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God Last October 15, 2015, I picked up this devotional comprised of Calvin's commentaries on the Bible. I had tried using it before as my morning reading and it didn't stick so I put it aside for a few years. The last year, it did stick. I am now moving onto another morning reading but Calvin's writings have been a faithful companion during a year of growth. Life is all about inputs. We can't necessarily control all outputs. There is a general sowing and reaping principle that exists but there are no guarantees. We can work hard and til the soil with skill and still get Nada. Others can stumble upon work not their own and appropriate for profit to their own ends. Alguno (maybe I should use French, the language of Calvin but I know a bit of Spanish). Life in a fallen world. If you are not doing a devotional in the morning, why not? Now I am not talking about c

I was talking with a buddy yesterday over coffee (he no longer drinks my high test but decaf) about the wish we both have about wanting to be "rock stars." For him. it is literal as he is a musician and it has morphed into being on stage Me, it is the more generic use of the word describing one who has legions of adoring fans. My stage was first athletics, and now it is writing. I think everyone wants to feel that their life matters. That we weren't just bubbles of existence carried away by the wind into the abyss of nothingness. So, we wish to make an impact and be appreciated and acknowledged by others. I call it "dust applauding dust" as that is where we shall return. But, the dust shall dance again. Some to everlasting life, some to eternal destruction. Many times our dreams are laudable. Very few people want to be good at being bad. Like being the best porn star or highest-grossing drug dealer in the area. No, typically our goals are above board and