bierkergaard

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 o...

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...

Matthew 6:9 And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. It is rainy and cool early October day here in Central Pa. I was thinking of going to another Oktoberfest today but I am partied out a bit.  A good day to stay home and reflect. Weather can create emotional states. So, cool and rainy makes me more introspective than I already am. I have a public persona that helps with my position. I can put on the extrovert character. Yet, I cherish coming home, closing and locking the door (the turning of the lock is the sweetest sound in the world), and being alone with my thoughts. I heal by silence and letting the concussive nature of my work wear off. Sleep is my primary coping mechanism. An hour nap after school dissipates the trauma. We school counselors deal with a lot of sad news yet there is much happiness, too. And these two realities exist side-by-side and can switch back and forth with almost jarring and blurring speed.  To change...