Details TBD: Probably Labor Day Weekend somewhere in Northern California
WADACAM! Weekend Workshop is a mashup spiritual retreat and boot camp. The goal is to equip men to succeed in their most important and difficult challenges (i.e., relationships). We do this by tapping into the power of the cross via an innovative small group process known as Rings of Reconciling (pronounced “RoR!”).
I am afraid the Temple of Apollo will be like that of Aphrodite. However, my fears were unfounded. The beautiful women and men walking the hallways — and rendered in art — are all tastefully, even fashionably clothed.
The Biastes continue Season 3 of The Great Reset by attempting to articulate concrete commitments we can make together to help us become better husbands and fathers, yet at the same time advance Christ’s purposes on multiple levels.
“He must become greater; I must become less.” — John 3:30
Question: How can we as men, whatever our occupation and family situation, make every action count for the Kingdom of God?
I wake up, not quite able to remember how I got here, or how long I’d been asleep. I’m not even sure I’m awake now — it is pitch dark, and I have that drowsy, warm feeling I have right when I’m on the edge of dreams. I feel like I’m swathed in soft blankets. I stretch, luxuriating in the the safe, secure environment. I contemplate going back to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream…
Yet, something penetrates the muffled stillness of my blankets. Something like… the beating of drums! In a rush, the memories of the previous… day? week? decade?… come crashing upon me. I remember leaving my home, my mother… the men crowding around me, and ushering me into a car… then nothing. Blackness. LIke this. And silence.
As usual, I’m lying on the couch reading, with our dog Rajee by my side. Probably a Hardy Boys or Tom Swift Jr. novel; maybe an Isaac Asimov sci-fi story. I rarely play outside or have friends over. It must be before dinner, since afterwards I’m almost always watching TV, unless my brother Larry and I are having one of our periodic Monopoly marathons with his friends. At least, I did until high school when I got immersed in theater and broke my TV habit; so, I must be around twelve, in eighth grade (1979).
Dad’s not around, but that’s hardly unusual, as he always gets home late.
Just then I hear a pounding on the door; which is quite unusual, since most people just ring the doorbell. Mom jumps a little; she’s been a little edgy all day, almost as if she were expecting something like this. Rajee barks, gets up, and runs towards the door. Which is also unusual, at least the barking; she’s still young enough to run, but ordinarily she just ‘whuffles’ softly when we have a visitor.