Just another Andalusada update:
Today it's all saints and sinners.
4/30/2012
4/27/2012
Haiku of the Creatures: Epic Fail
Be praised, O my Lord,
Through our Uncle Epic Fail,
Who defines the age.
Through our Uncle Epic Fail,
Who defines the age.
Haiku of the Creatures: Sand
Be praised, O my Lord
Through our Brother Sand; he makes
For such nice castles.
Through our Brother Sand; he makes
For such nice castles.
Fathers of the Reformation
In a single go, I have posted character sketches of Andalusada's foremost *Protestant reformers:
Johan Georg Günther, and Oliver Farrell.
Cross-bloggage has never been more fun.
Johan Georg Günther, and Oliver Farrell.
Cross-bloggage has never been more fun.
4/26/2012
Saint Sakura
A classic trope of yuri manga is that (Japan being blissfully ignorant of the ways of Christendom) our lesbian couple usually meets at a Catholic girls' school. This school is traditionally named after Saint Engrish, something feminine-sounding that's not actually from any Indo-European language.
Never is it a Japanese name.
Saint Sakura is chosen to stand that on its head. And you can read about her here.
Never is it a Japanese name.
Saint Sakura is chosen to stand that on its head. And you can read about her here.
Introducing Andalusada
Why haven't I posted on this blog in the last, oh, year?
Because I've been busy with other stuff instead. Like Andalusada.
Because I've been busy with other stuff instead. Like Andalusada.
4/24/2012
Haiku of the Creatures: Rain
Bless our Sister Rain
Who moistens the dry cracked lips
Of the world below.
Who moistens the dry cracked lips
Of the world below.
4/23/2012
On a song
Dearest:
You're gone from me.
You're far away.
No sunshine today. Not warm either.
Now, are these statements related
By cause
Or correlation?
Truthfully, I can't say myself.
I just know that you've been gone
Too long.
I miss you.
You're gone from me.
You're far away.
No sunshine today. Not warm either.
Now, are these statements related
By cause
Or correlation?
Truthfully, I can't say myself.
I just know that you've been gone
Too long.
I miss you.
4/22/2012
Visit to a bookstore
Knowing in advance
Prepares for, but cannot change
Experiencing.
It was exactly where I expected it to be: out of the way.
It had exactly what I expected it to have: the same things it had the first and last time I'd been there before. Shelves of Bibles that hadn't turned over, bought to exploit economies of scale. (And in their defense it had worked. If I'd been in a mind to buy another, it would've been at least $5 cheaper than anywhere else.)
It served exactly the purpose I expected it to: a consolation for its customers, a comfort, a reassurance.
Prepares for, but cannot change
Experiencing.
It was exactly where I expected it to be: out of the way.
It had exactly what I expected it to have: the same things it had the first and last time I'd been there before. Shelves of Bibles that hadn't turned over, bought to exploit economies of scale. (And in their defense it had worked. If I'd been in a mind to buy another, it would've been at least $5 cheaper than anywhere else.)
It served exactly the purpose I expected it to: a consolation for its customers, a comfort, a reassurance.
4/03/2012
Testifying.
Rachel Held Evans started this. Slacktivist made it known to me. The commenters inspired me to join them.
No two members of my family churched the same. Dad didn’t at all, despite those missionaries teaching him to speak English. Mom left Catholicism for various other things over the last thirty years. My sister spent her formative years dragging Mom to the local evangelical church, where the projector screen in the sanctuary was bigger than the parking lot outside. I was the only one raised as a purely mainline Protestant.
No two members of my family churched the same. Dad didn’t at all, despite those missionaries teaching him to speak English. Mom left Catholicism for various other things over the last thirty years. My sister spent her formative years dragging Mom to the local evangelical church, where the projector screen in the sanctuary was bigger than the parking lot outside. I was the only one raised as a purely mainline Protestant.
In some kinds of testimonies, you’re supposed to get to the part where you invited Jesus into your heart, and then you cry until your makeup runs, and then everybody prays over you. This ain’t one of those testimonies. This is mine. This is why I left.
- I left because my confirmation was a tribal signifier.
Labels:
confessions,
responsive writing,
soulblogging,
What Was Then
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