Last week marked ten years since the release of Andrew Peterson’s The Burning Edge of Dawn. It’s an album that has brought much encouragement to me over this last decade, the opening track in particular. Here’s a version of “The Dark Before the Dawn” that I’ve likely shared before; it’s so good that it’s worth sharing again, I think.
Lots of fun in the Sunday funnies, but a classic Calvin and Hobbes takes the title.
FoxTrot has some fun seasonal humor, with Jason trying to use tree-and-property knowledge to his advantage.
Canines end up basking in a better light than people in today’s full-sized Frazz comic.
But it’s today’s classic Calvin and Hobbes that stands outs. It’s the perfect blend of story and art, with a final panel that reminds you of how beautiful line drawings can be (especially when they are wonderfully covered).
And so fall break begins, not with a bang but with a . . . drizzle? (And a not unwelcome one at that.)
Today marks the first full day of fall break, which isn’t totally accurate because an odd overlap almost always exists between the old quarter ending, the break, and the new quarter beginning. So today and tomorrow are for closing out the grade book and later in the week will be for getting things in place for the second quarter of the school year. And next week? That’s for doctors and dermatologists and chiropractors.
The drizzle has been nice. The morning started with a trip to the gym followed by breakfast and time at the state library. Lunch was the messiest and best chicken salad sandwich around. And I may have snuck in a quick nap after some time in the classroom.
One of my main goals, as always, is to get some reading done. I’ve been taking way too long getting through the latest Rivers of London novel. Waiting in the wings? The second entry in the Impossible Creatures series. And then there’s a new Wendell Berry novel that I’m going to try (which will be a miracle because I’ve not been able to read any of his other novels). I’ve also got some theology books to work my way through. I’m almost done with Fred Sanders’s Union with Christ and the Life of Faith. And John Owen’s Communion with God (which I only know about because of Sanders’s book). There’s one other book, a last-minute addition to the list, that I’ll get to later this week. A week ago I didn’t know it existed, but it’s a perfect fit for this particular moment in time.
The quarter, by the way, was good, full (with some days being a bit too full). Much like this space, my personal journal has quite a few large gaps, but that doesn’t mean reflection wasn’t happening. I do think that some questions of meaning linger, are always just beneath the surface of things. I’m definitely carrying that with me into break.
But for now the drizzle continues and there’s hope for a quiet night and a peaceful end to the day. That’s a great way to start a break.
Quite the fun day in the Sunday comics today:
But it’s the annual Lucy-with-a-football day in Peanuts that sees Charlie Brown going for it yet again . . . and the banana isn’t even something for him to slip on.
Today’s Sunday-sized WuMo is a great reminder about planning ahead, but it’s today’s FoxTrot that reminds us of something vital in the conversation about AI in academics.
Lots of school and seasonal humor today. FoxTrot points towards the fantasy in fantasy football. Peppermint Patty tries to beat the clock with a math problem. And Calvin? Well it turns out that he’s the neighborhood alarm clock.
But it’s today’s Frazz by Jef Mallett with the imagery and the sentiment to be this Sunday’s Best.
This past week, Andrew Peterson celebrated the 20th anniversary of the release of The Far Country. It was the first of his albums after Carried Along that I learned to feel deeply, that tapped into something I was still just starting to understand about faith and myself. When it comes to Peterson, one thing that always amazes me is his ability to synthesize so many powerful parts of the life of faith. The title song to this 20-year-old album is no exception.
I suppose that writing and reading advice can be found just about anywhere these days (assuming that you can’t get something else to read or write for you, which is more likely the case). So it’s a rare pleasure to see Alan Jacobs (of How to Think fame) sharing a nice statement about reading that tracks well with his Pleasure of Reading in an Age of Distraction. Lots of great advice in the piece. And Jacobs is the first person to name the concept of “reading upstream” for me (it’s kind of a version of my “following the holy footnote”).
The Ringer has become a great place for thoughtful, very comprehensive lists. Case in point: in honor of the release of The Paper (the thematic sequel to The Office), the folks at The Ringer ranked all 173 cold opens of The Office. And the best part: they often include embedded videos. I’ll be the first to admit that my love of the show waned after Steve Carrell left (though I did come back for most of the final season). I think a cold open is the kind of thing that you learn to appreciate over time and that mostly fades into memory until you see it again. But the Ringer’s top choice? It’s one I totally agree with and think of, chuckle at, often.
Speaking of The Paper: I do plan on giving it a try. The premise sounds a little different, which is nice. Good sitcoms are hard to find and often feel at least a tiny bit derivative. The only new comedy for me recently has been St. Denis Medical on NBC. If The Paper can land jokes as well as that show, then there’s some hope it can have legs.
Here’s a great excerpt from this week’s Desert Fathers episode by Erik Varden about Christian joy lived out over time:
So my fidelity must be rooted at greater depth, beyond sentiment. St Benedict stresses this when, in the midst of prescribing minutiae of regular life, he puts in lapidary phrases like these: ‘The love of Christ must come before all else’; ‘Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ’. The abba in our saying uses the image of a dog pursuing a scent. To live and thrive over time as a monk, it is not enough just to feel drawn to the community, wanting to belong, to do what the others are doing. The community plays a providential part in the realisation of a vocation, but I do not make vows for the community’s sake.
I make vows in order to know Christ, ‘and him crucified’; to be his and for him to be mine. Only if I keep my eyes fixed on him constantly, ever striving to be near him, will I be preserved from distraction into mediocrity or retrogression or recalcitrance.
A good word, and definitely a strong word, especially for someone who often sees community as a pearl of great price.
Space Enough, and Time 