If we hope to finish the race
We must be willing to face
The limits of our competence
Even before we commence
Tag Archives: training
Limerick: Come, Passion
StandardIn a world where sufferings out of fashion
Christ calls us to live with compassion
As we train our brain
To not flee from pain
His Kingdom, to our world, will crash in
Poem: Toll Taken
StandardThe world takes it toll
On the road of our soul
It oft hurts like hell
When we hear that toll bell
Poem: Train vs Wreck
StandardPick one.
The reason Christ told us to
Pick up our daily cross
Is we must stay in training
Or else suffer great loss
Diarogue 4/7: Adept, Wisdom
StandardEpisode #4 of The Rogue Dialogues: Inner Healing for Leadership
Continued from Acolyte, Wisdom
A teenage boy enters, red-haired with freckles.
Adept: ‘Thena, where are you?
Thena: [entering] Right here. And who are you now, my dear Rogue?
A. Ah think ahm what they call an “Adept.” Which either means skillful or magic user, yeh?
Continue readingA Call for Sonship in the Body of Christ
StandardHistorically, the Body of Christ has relied on three interdependent roles:
• Infants, who receive what they are taught
• Mystics, who seek their own truth
• Paternalists, who create the context for Infants
Matthew 23:9 And do not call anyone on earth your father, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.
Continue readingRedeeming Ares, Part 4: Chiron Feeding
StandardContinued from Part 3.
Prologue
“Go away, leave me alone!”
I am stunned.
Not just by the rude un-greeting.
But by the ramshackle hut Charon left me at
After departing the homely heaven of Hestia’s kitchen
“Fine!”
My twelve-year-old self snaps back.
“I didn’t want to get schooled by you anyway, you mangy old horse-man.
I’ll just sit here and eat the lunch Hestia gave me, until the bus comes to take me back.”
Suddenly there’s a loud but brief galloping.
The door opens.
Revealing an old
Disheveled
Yet still mighty
Centaur
Chiron
Continue readingIn His Shape
StandardToday I will allow God
To mold me into His image
TGR-S4E4: Cross Training
StandardThis week on The Great Reset our Biasta Janet leads the Biastes through an exercise in Christlike Relational Roleplay.
Question: How do we shift the focus of the Body of Christ from “getting fed” to “getting fit” (to represent Jesus)?
https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1PBxpiZ5AAiKbaT48gB4lOoPDRjPVpBhWpBsZ_ihF8k8/edit?usp=sharing
Continue readingTGR-S4E3: Relational Practice
StandardThis week on The Great Reset our Biasta Janet re-uses the “Critical Community Protocol” to help the Biastes* evaluate a proposal for training us in healthier relational practices.
Question: How can we all get better at actually loving each other the way Jesus does?
Perspective:
- Use public roleplaying to
- deliberately practice specific techniques
- that simultaneously build autonomy, authenticity, and empathy
TGR-S2E1: Re-Purposing Education
StandardFor this cycle of The Great Reset with the Biastes, I hope to explore Ted’s call to scale entrepreneurial/spiritual training to meet the immense need, especially among the unemployed and marginalized. Starting on Friday, May 22nd by resetting our understanding of education…
The Quest, Part II: Dragon and Princess
StandardStart with Part I.
8:00 AM, Saturday, April 15th, 2006
The Castle
I am a young man, now, perhaps 13 or so. The old man has long since passed away — or perhaps just disappeared. It does not matter. I was not emotionally attached to him. I am not emotionally attached to anyone. I am attached to my studies.
I had been gradually taking on more and more of the simple chores needed to keep up the castle, so his departure was not a radical shift. We never really talked or socialized, though he would teach and quiz me as needed. Which was not very much, since I soon learned to read and taught myself from his library. My horse — the only other living thing in the castle — had soon grown bored and wandered off. I felt a brief pang at the time, but since I was already too busy for him it didn’t really seem to matter. Did it? As usual, I just returned to my studies and moved on.
Alone in my castle, with few distractions and no visitors, life was placid, but never boring. I took joy in the simple tasks of self-sufficiency, conjuring food, mastering new ideas, maintaining order in the castle so it wouldn’t get it my way. There are no wild plants or dust to disturb my tranquillity, just a few herbs in a box for my research. The armor of my childhood still lay in my room, and I would polish it and magically stretch it to keep it in my size and in good condition — for I was well brought up — but I never needed it, since I never went out, and nobody ever came.
Which is why the knock on my chamber door is so startling. I am not scared, exactly — what need I fear? — but sufficiently surprised that I spill ink over the parchment I’m annotating. Actually, so surprised I don’t even mind my clumsiness, but — without thinking — get up and answer the door. For I was brought up well.
I open it, and there stands a well-built, bearded man in his early thirties. I’ve never seen him before, but he looks at me with a smile of recognition.