In Summary: * Got my weekly laundry all done today: 2 loads, washed, dried, folded and put away. So, productive. Now I'm fully into radio basketball mode. Go Spurs Go!

Prayers, etc.: * I have a daily prayer regimen I try to follow throughout the day from early morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, until head hits pillow at night. Details of that regimen are linked to my link tree, which is linked to my profile page here.

Starting Ash Wednesday, 2026, I'll add this daily prayer as part of the Prayer Crusade Preceding SSPX Episcopal Consecrations.

Health Metrics: * bw= 226.64 lbs. * bp= 130/80 (70)

Exercise: * morning stretches, balance exercises, kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 05:55 – 1 banana * 07:05 – 1 peanut butter sandwich * 09:25 – whole kernel corn * 10:30 – breaded pork chop * 14:00 – noodles, green vegetables and egg rolls, rice, cooked pork

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 04:00 – listen to local news talk radio * 05:00 – bank accounts activity monitored * 05:20 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, and nap * 09:20 – start my weekly laundry * 10:20 – watching old episodes of Classic Doctor Who * 14:00 to 15:00 – watch old game shows and eat lunch at home with Sylvia * 15:00 – listen to The Jack Riccardi Show * 17:00 – tuned to 1200 WOAI for the call of tonight's Spurs game, and the pregame and postgame shows.

Chess: * 16:00 – moved in all pending CC games

There are chapters in Scripture that feel like standing with your back against eternity while the winds of history rush past your face, and Luke 21 is one of them. It reaches toward you with a weight that refuses to be ignored, a gravity that draws you in even if you think you already understand it. This chapter does not simply record what Jesus said; it reveals the steady pulse of a Savior who refuses to let His people drift blindfolded into the storms that are coming. It reveals the quiet authority of the One who sees the beginning and the end with equal clarity, who can stand inside a single moment while still speaking with the language of ages. And if you read it slowly enough, long enough, honestly enough, you begin to realize the chapter is not merely about future events or ancient warnings, but about the condition of the human spirit when confronted with a world unraveling. It is about you. It is about me. It is about what endures when civilizations tremble and kingdoms collapse. It is about what matters when nothing else does. In this way, Luke 21 is less a prophecy lecture and more a mirror, revealing what Jesus sees when He looks at the world, at His disciples, and at the generations that will follow long after their footsteps fade from the dust of Jerusalem’s streets.

Many readers rush past the opening scene as if it were only a prelude, but that quiet moment with the widow’s offering is the doorway through which the rest of the chapter must be understood. In a way only Jesus could design, the entire architecture of the chapter hangs on that single act of surrender. While others give from comfort, the widow gives from collapse. While others donate without denting their future, she gives in a way that costs her the very life she is trying to sustain. And Jesus watches this with an attentiveness that tells you something about the Kingdom that human systems never quite grasp. Strength is not measured by what you have, but by what you willingly release. Security is not built by accumulation, but by trust. In a world obsessed with the visible, God is drawn to what cannot be seen: the motive of the heart, the posture of dependence, the quiet courage of a soul that refuses to hoard what little it has because it believes God is still enough. That is why her story is the key that unlocks the chapter. Luke 21 will speak of collapse, signs, upheaval, and events that shake nations, yet the first image offered is a woman who trusts God in a world that offers her nothing back. Jesus seems to be saying that no matter what happens next, those who stand firm in that spirit will never be swept away.

This becomes essential as the chapter pivots toward the disciples’ admiration of the Temple. They see stonework; Jesus sees history’s expiration date. They see permanence; Jesus sees impermanence disguised in stone. They see strength; Jesus sees fragility beneath the surface. And He does not rebuke their admiration; He simply replaces it with reality. The things you assume will stand forever may fall in your lifetime. The structures you believe are too large to fail may crumble within a generation. The systems you anchor yourself to may not survive the pressure of the future. Jesus is not trying to frighten them; He is trying to free them. He is teaching them that the Kingdom of God is never secured by architecture, institutions, or the visible pillars of culture. It is secured by the human heart fully yielded to the will of the Father, the way the widow was. The Temple itself, magnificent and seemingly eternal, would fall. But the faith forged in surrender, humility, and trust would outlast it. This is the heartbeat of Luke 21: the collapse of the temporary is not the collapse of the eternal.

When Jesus begins to speak of wars, earthquakes, famines, and fearful signs, He is not offering sensational predictions; He is offering perspective. Humanity tends to interpret turmoil as evidence that God has abandoned the world, yet Jesus reframes the coming chaos not as abandonment but as transition. The old world trembles when the new world begins to break through its cracks. The Kingdom of God does not rise without friction against the kingdoms of earth. And the more tightly the world clings to its illusions of control, the harder it shakes when confronted by the One who actually holds time in His hands. Jesus speaks of these events not as random disasters, but as birth pains. The imagery is intentional. Pain with purpose. Turmoil with trajectory. Suffering that leads somewhere. It is a difficult truth, but a liberating one: God does not lose control when the world loses stability. The shaking is not a sign of His absence, but a sign that the earth cannot remain as it is when the Kingdom draws near.

Then Jesus turns the lens inward, shifting from geopolitical events to the personal cost His followers will endure. Before any world-ending calamity arrives, the disciples themselves will face betrayal, accusation, persecution, and hostility from those closest to them. Jesus does not romanticize faithfulness; He describes it with precision. Following Him will not insulate them from the world’s anger; it will provoke it. Their allegiance will expose the insecurity of those who cling to worldly power. Their peace will confront the chaos in others’ hearts. Their loyalty to the Kingdom will create conflict with the kingdoms around them. Yet Jesus gives them a promise unlike anything found in any other worldview: when you stand before rulers, accusers, or adversaries, do not worry about your defense, for the Spirit of God will speak through you in that moment. In a world where every voice tries to secure its own platform, Jesus offers something radically different: the assurance that when your moment comes, the words will not be born from your own strength but from His presence within you. For the disciples and for every generation after them, this promise becomes the foundation of courage.

As Jesus continues describing events that would eventually unfold in the destruction of Jerusalem, His words carry both compassion and solemnity. He warns of days when fleeing will be wiser than fighting, when discernment will be more crucial than bravado, and when survival will require humility rather than stubborn allegiance to what God is removing. There is a tenderness in His warnings, because He is not trying to frighten; He is trying to shepherd. He is preparing His followers to recognize when judgment is unfolding and when the window of escape is open. The fall of Jerusalem was not just a historical event; it was a collision between human rebellion and divine patience reaching its limit. And Jesus, knowing what was coming, chose not to leave His disciples unprepared. His warnings were acts of love, not fear.

Yet Luke 21 never allows itself to become merely historical. Jesus expands the horizon again, lifting the conversation from the fall of one city to the trembling of the entire world. Signs in the sun, moon, and stars. Nations in distress. The roaring of the seas. People fainting from fear as the powers of heaven themselves appear unstable. All of these images are meant to communicate something deeper than meteorological events. They speak of a world losing its ability to hold itself together, of creation groaning under the weight of human rebellion, of cosmic systems responding to the spiritual reality unfolding within history. Jesus is not describing hysteria; He is describing the moment when the fabric between the seen and unseen becomes thin enough for humanity to realize that it is not the master of the universe. And then, in the midst of global fear, Jesus offers a sentence that has comforted believers for centuries: when you see these things begin to take place, stand up and lift your heads, for your redemption is drawing near. In other words, when the world sees an ending, the believer sees a beginning.

This contrast is essential. Jesus does not call His followers to panic but to posture. He does not call them to dread but to expectation. He does not call them to collapse inward but to rise in confidence. In a world defined by reaction, Jesus calls His people to response—a response rooted in the certainty that God does not lose His children in the chaos of collapsing systems. Redemption does not arrive when everything is calm; redemption arrives when everything else fails. That is why Jesus invites us to lift our heads. Our salvation is not behind us; it is approaching. Our hope is not fading; it is advancing. And our future is not determined by the instability of the world, but by the steadfastness of the One who promised to return.

Part of what makes Luke 21 so profoundly relevant is the way Jesus ties spiritual vigilance to ordinary life. He warns that the hearts of people will become heavy with dissipation, drunkenness, and the anxieties of life. It is striking that He pairs reckless indulgence and destructive distractions with the same seriousness as fear and worry. Jesus seems to be saying that the greatest danger in the last days is not merely catastrophic events; it is the slow, quiet erosion of the human spirit through a life numbed by consumption, entertainment, or the relentless pressure to survive. People may not fall away because of persecution; they may fall away because of preoccupation. They may not reject God out of rebellion; they may simply drift because their souls became too tired to look up. This is the quiet tragedy Jesus warns against: not dramatic defiance, but spiritual sleep.

Yet the chapter does not leave the reader in dread or resignation. Jesus offers a final instruction that becomes the anchor of every generation that reads Luke 21: be always on the watch, and pray that you may have the strength to escape what is coming and to stand before the Son of Man. Watchfulness is not paranoia; it is attentiveness. It is living awake in a world that is spiritually sedated. It is refusing to let your heart become dulled by the noise around you. It is learning to recognize God’s movement even when it happens beneath the surface. And prayer, in this context, is not merely asking for help but aligning your soul with the reality of the Kingdom so deeply that you remain steady when the world becomes unsteady. Jesus is not telling His followers to survive the future by their own strength; He is telling them that the strength they need comes from the connection they maintain with Him in the present.

Luke 21 ends with a rhythm of Jesus teaching in the Temple by day and withdrawing to the Mount of Olives at night, a rhythm that embodies the very message He delivered. Public engagement anchored by private communion. Ministry rooted in stillness. Clarity sustained by prayer. The One who tells the world to stay awake models what a life of spiritual attentiveness looks like. And the people rise early each morning to hear Him because something in them knows they are listening to a voice unlike any other. A voice that does not merely predict the future, but defines it. A voice that does not tremble at history, but directs it. A voice that does not fear the collapse of earthly kingdoms, because it comes from the One whose Kingdom will never collapse.

The significance of Luke 21 is not merely in the events Jesus describes, but in the kind of people He is shaping through His words. When you listen to Him speak in this chapter, you realize He is not trying to produce fearful followers but focused ones, not panicked believers but prepared ones, not people who cling to the world with white-knuckled desperation but people who live with the kind of spiritual clarity that sees through the illusions of the age. The entire chapter operates like a spiritual lens being adjusted with gentle, precise movements until what is blurry becomes sharp and what is overwhelming becomes understandable. Jesus knows the human mind becomes anxious when confronted with uncertainty, so He replaces uncertainty with awareness. He knows the human heart becomes unstable when pressured by chaos, so He replaces chaos with calling. And He knows the human soul becomes weary when burdened by the world’s weight, so He replaces burden with a promise: you are not forgotten, and the story is not spiraling out of control. Rather, it is moving exactly as He has said it would, and He will not lose you in the middle of it.

The quiet brilliance of Luke 21 is that Jesus does not separate the spiritual life from the external world. He never speaks as if faith is something sealed off behind the walls of private devotion. Instead, He shows that faith is lived at the intersection of history and eternity, where empires rise and fall, where nations tremble, and where ordinary disciples continue carrying the flame of the Kingdom in a world that has lost its bearings. Jesus does not promise them ease; He promises them endurance. He does not guarantee that the storms will bypass them; He guarantees that the storms will not break them. Every instruction He gives is shaped by the truth that faith is not an escape route but a lifeline, not a shelter from hardship but a strength within hardship, not a fantasy that denies reality but a clarity that interprets reality through the eyes of God. This is why He speaks with both tenderness and authority. He is not simply informing them of the future, but forming them for it.

Many people assume Jesus gives these warnings only to frighten or to condemn, but the opposite is happening. These words are mercy. They are preparation. They are the loving instructions of a Savior who refuses to let His people wander blindly into a season of upheaval. If you listen carefully, His voice in Luke 21 carries the same tone a loving father uses when he kneels beside his child before a difficult journey, ensuring they understand what lies ahead, not to scare them but to steady them. Jesus refuses to let the disciples mistake temporary structures for eternal foundations. He refuses to let them anchor their hope in buildings, positions, institutions, or cultural stability. He wants their security to be unshakeable because it is rooted in something unshakeable. And so He tells them plainly what will fall, not to traumatize them, but to liberate them from trusting what was never meant to carry the weight of their souls.

The destruction of the Temple becomes a symbol for every generation, because every age has its own temples: the things it believes will outlast time, the things it expects to remain unmovable, the things it assumes are too powerful to fall. But history has shown, again and again, that every human kingdom has an expiration date. Every empire eventually becomes a relic. Every monument eventually becomes a ruin. Yet the Kingdom Jesus announced continues to advance, continues to transform lives, continues to rewrite the human story from within. Luke 21 is not about despair; it is about discernment. It is about learning to see what God sees. It is about recognizing that even when the visible world trembles, the invisible Kingdom stands. And it is about understanding that the true stability of a believer does not come from the world’s predictability, but from God’s faithfulness.

When Jesus transitions to the imagery of cosmic signs and global upheaval, He is not describing fantasy but revelation. The world as we know it is not built to last forever. Creation itself is waiting, groaning, longing for the redemption God promised. Humanity often believes it can sustain the world through innovation, governance, or progress, yet Jesus tells the truth without apology: there is coming a moment when the world will reach the limits of its strength. The systems we trust will fail. The wisdom we rely on will falter. The stability we take for granted will evaporate. And in that moment, humanity will finally confront the truth it has ignored for centuries—that the world is not self-sustaining, and that the true King is not any earthly ruler, but the Son of Man returning in glory.

And yet, for the believer, this moment is not terror but triumph. Jesus says, when these things begin—begin, not conclude—stand up and lift your head, for your redemption is near. That single instruction overturns every instinct of human fear. When the world collapses inward, the believer rises upward. When the nations tremble, the believer looks toward the horizon where the King is approaching. Jesus does not tell His followers to cower, hide, or despair; He tells them to stand. This standing is not physical arrogance but spiritual clarity. It is the recognition that the moment the world fears most is the moment the believer has longed for. It is the moment when faith becomes sight, when promises become reality, when the hopes of every generation reach their culmination. Jesus is not warning His followers of disaster; He is preparing them for deliverance.

The parable of the fig tree deepens this message. Jesus, as He often does, frames eternal reality within the rhythm of creation. Just as leaves on the tree signal the change of seasons, so the signs He describes signal the approaching fulfillment of God’s plan. This is not meant to produce date-setting or speculation, but awareness. Jesus wants His followers to live with the same attentiveness a farmer has when studying the land. Disciples are not called to panic at every tremor, but to discern the difference between random disturbance and prophetic fulfillment. They are not called to interpret every global event through fear, but through faith. And they are not called to be experts in speculation, but experts in spiritual readiness. The fig tree does not try to predict the exact moment summer arrives; it recognizes the indicators and responds naturally. So must the follower of Jesus.

Jesus then speaks a phrase that has puzzled many: this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. Some assume this refers to the immediate disciples, but Jesus is speaking of the generation that sees the signs unfold. Every time Scripture refers to a generation in prophetic context, it refers to the collective group living during the unfolding of the events described. Jesus is not limiting the prophecy to the first century; He is anchoring its fulfillment to the season when the signs converge. And so, the chapter retains its relevance not because it predicts the exact timing, but because it shapes the posture required for every generation leading up to that moment.

Then Jesus offers a statement that feels like both thunder and reassurance: heaven and earth will pass away, but His words will never pass away. This is one of the most astonishing declarations in Scripture, because Jesus is placing His own words above the durability of creation itself. Everything visible will fade. Everything tangible will vanish. Everything temporal will dissolve. But what He has spoken will remain. This is the foundation that believers are meant to stand on when the world shakes. If His words outlast the world, then the one who stands on His words stands on something more secure than the world itself. And this is what Luke 21 is ultimately calling us toward: the kind of life anchored so deeply in His words that no amount of pressure, confusion, or turmoil can uproot it.

It is no surprise, then, that Jesus warns His followers not to let their hearts become weighed down. A weary heart is more dangerous than a hostile world. A distracted mind is more destructive than external persecution. Jesus describes dissipation and drunkenness not merely as immoral behaviors but as symptoms of a soul trying to numb itself. When life becomes overwhelming, many people try to escape through distraction, indulgence, or avoidance. Others collapse under the anxieties of survival. But Jesus warns that these inward conditions make the heart too heavy to respond when the moment of divine awakening arrives. The danger is not only missing the signs, but missing the ability to stand with clarity when they appear. A heart weighed down is a heart unable to lift its head. And so Jesus urges a life of attentiveness, not fear-driven but faith-driven, where the mind stays awake, the spirit stays connected, and the soul stays receptive.

Luke 21 concludes with an image of Jesus that is both simple and profound: He teaches in the Temple during the day and withdraws to the Mount of Olives at night. This rhythm is the secret to understanding the entire chapter. Jesus does not ask His followers to live in unbroken adrenaline, nor to survive by constant vigilance. He models a life of outward ministry grounded in inward communion. He teaches publicly from a place of private strength. He confronts the chaos of the world from a place of deep intimacy with the Father. He navigates conflict with clarity because His spirit is aligned with heaven. And the people, sensing something in Him that cannot be manufactured, rise early each morning to listen. Their hearts recognize the voice that carries eternity in it.

When you allow Luke 21 to settle into your spirit, you realize it is not primarily a chapter about the end of the world; it is a chapter about the end of superficial faith. It is the moment Jesus draws a line between those who follow Him casually and those who follow Him with conviction. It is the moment He invites His disciples to move from admiration to allegiance, from emotional reaction to spiritual readiness, from living in the comfort of the present to anchoring their identity in the unshakeable reality of His return. The chapter forces us to ask what we are really trusting. Are we trusting systems, comforts, routines, or assumptions? Or are we trusting the One who will remain when everything else fades?

If Jesus were standing in front of us today, speaking Luke 21 with the same tone He used that day, He would not be calling us to fear the future; He would be calling us to prepare for it with the same quiet courage He instilled in His disciples. He would be calling us to cultivate a heart like the widow’s: surrendered, trusting, unafraid to release what keeps us comfortable. He would be calling us to stop anchoring our identity to things that cannot survive the shaking. He would be calling us to discern the signs not so we can speculate, but so we can stay steady. He would be calling us to lift our heads when the world bows low in fear. He would be calling us to stay awake when others fall asleep spiritually. And He would be calling us to pray for the strength to stand before Him with a life lived in faith, hope, and steadfast endurance.

Luke 21 is ultimately an invitation to live with clarity in a world addicted to confusion. It is an invitation to live with courage in a world trained by fear. It is an invitation to live with hope in a world shaped by despair. It is an invitation to live with spiritual attention in a world lulled into distraction. And it is an invitation to anchor your soul in a Kingdom that cannot be shaken, a Word that cannot fade, and a Savior who will return exactly as He promised. The chapter is not a threat; it is a roadmap. It is not a warning of doom; it is a promise of redemption. It is not the collapse of hope; it is the revelation of hope. And it calls every reader, in every generation, to be a person who lives awake, lives ready, and lives confident in the God who holds all of history in His hands.

Luke 21 is not meant to frighten the believer but to fortify them. Not to leave them anxious but to make them anchored. Not to create dread but to produce discernment. And when you finally reach the end of the chapter, what remains is not fear but a strange, steady courage. The kind of courage that comes from knowing Jesus sees the future with absolute clarity and still tells you not to be afraid. The kind of courage that comes from knowing He has already accounted for every hardship, every pressure, every event, and every moment you will face. The kind of courage that comes from living with your heart tuned to the voice of the One who said heaven and earth will pass away, but His words will never pass away. And when His words become the foundation beneath your feet, no amount of shaking can unsettle you.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

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Adventurers

Character	Race	Class	Description
Syd Grundy	Human	Ranger level 1	Tall, middle aged and scruffy looking man of the wilderness.
Jacob Vin	Human	Assassin level 1	Slick black hair, inconspicuous dress, youthful for his age, and of keen instincts.
Thorinda Bung	Human	Monk level 1	She has blonde hair done up in a tight pony tail and wears light, loose suit.
Ambros	Human	Cleric level 6	Follower of Aniu, Lord of Time.
Ignaeus	Elf	Fighter level 4 / magic-user level 5	A slightly weathered looking elf with dull blonde hair and chiseled features. Seeks wealth and knowledge.
Minako Konishi	Human	Monk level 3	Pretty Karakan with grace of a panther and shrewdness of a fox. Silk sash holds here loose trousers in place, while loose jacket rounds up her exotic look.

Goodgroove 6th, Airday

Ignaeus and Ambros assembled a party of six, intent on plundering the depths of Castle Yukanthur. Syd had recovered and was ready to adventure once more. Jacob, Thorinda, and Minako were all new recruits; adventurers whom had recently arrived to the backwater Ironburg.

Heinrik shared all he knew about the castle. Adventurers copied his map to the location, and then they set off in the early morning. Although Goodgroove is the first month of fall, it still felt quite like summer. Not a cloud in sight, and scalding hot.

Ruined fortress lies just four leagues northeast from Ironburg, so adventurers reached it in little bit over one watch. Then they spent half an hour to scout the surroundings before finally mustering enough courage to descend into the dungeon.

Ambros and Ignaeus, two most senior and best armoured adventurers in the party, took the lead. Spiral staircase eventually came to a landing leading straight down. A chipped and weathered stone statue faced the bottom of stairs. Upon approach large mouth formed above the statue, booming:

“WHO DARE ENTER THE CASTLE OF YUKANTHUR?!”

Party ignored it and followed the corridor leading left. Dried rivulets of blood gave credence to previous delve, albeit by other adventurers, as did the broken arrows at the far end. Moving on, they reached an illusory dead end. Ignaeus walked straight through the wall.

Adjoining chamber reeked of death. Dried gore was close to the archway leading out. Beyond it was a T-shaped junction splitting west and south. Barging through the west door led the party to giant rats feasting on kobold remains. Heroic Ignaeus darted forth and hacked all four giant rats to death. Others tried to help, but were rather ineffective.

The chamber had three exits in total. One doors to the east, through which the party came from. Two doors on the west side, one in each corner. Adventurers choose the left doors. Then spent half an hour forcing them open. Their reward was a corridor leading them to a T-shaped junction splitting towards doors and another corridor.

Another half an hour later and they forced yet another doors open. A small circular chamber, perhaps some ten feet in radius, was before them. A robed, scythe-wielding statue stood on a four inch tall plinth in the center of the chamber. Next to it was a headless skeleton dressed in rotted leather armour. On the other side of the chamber was skull. A tattered sack with silver coins was right by it.

Following another thirty minutes of discussion Ambros suggested it is not worth risking life for such a pittance. Party backed off and followed the corridor west. They turned right, then right again at new junction. This led them to yet another junction, which they theorised would go to the other side of scythe chamber. Corridor continued to another doors, which were the northwest doors of the chamber with kobold and giant rat corpses.

There were another doors further north, as of yet unexplored. Beyond them was a large chamber, easily fifty by fifty feet. Doomed ceiling rose way above the torchlight. Straight across the chamber were doors that were slightly ajar. The room itself was bereft sans for one little detail—a dead elf in the center. He was dressed in chainmail. Broadsword was next to it, as well as longbow. He didn't have any other noticeable possessions.

Adventurers carefully approached the corpse.

“Watch out!”

Syd yelled at Jacob. The assassin instinctively jump to the side, barely avoiding wombat-sized giant tick dropping from above. Initial attacks all bounced off of its thick carapace. Then Syd roared and cracked it open with few mighty swings of his battle axe. Ignaeus used the opportunity to bash through the hole, driving his broadsword straight through the insect's body. It let out a sound and collapsed.

“Agh!”

Before they even had time to wipe their weapons, another giant tick dropped down. This one hit Thorinda, nearly breaking her back. It bit her hard and begun sucking her dry. Everyone but Jacob missed, for they tried hard not to accidentally hit the monk.

Thorinda went pale and limp as tick sucked the life out of her. With her out of the way, adventurers went wild and beat down on the insect with savage glee. Ambros delivered the killing blow, smashing its peanut-sized brain with his heavy mace. They rolled the carcass off the Thorinda. She was alive but in a rather poor state.

Inspecting elven corpse confirmed two things. First, he was most definitely the victim of giant ticks—or something else that sucks blood. Second, he was liberated of his possessions. His belt was cut, and his coin purse and backpack were nowhere to be found.

Adventurers moved north, past the open doors. They followed a long corridor until they reach a junction splitting east and south. East led forward fifty feet before turning right. South led hundred feet before reaching doors and turning right. The latter looped back to the small entry chamber behind the illusory wall.

“Listen!”

Minako heard rapidly incoming squishy sounds—like wet flesh slapping against cold flagstones. Adventurers braced themselves and faced north.

A disgusting monstrosity with glistening, elongated tubular body with three dozen tentacle-like appendages charged them. It slapped Syd and Jacob many times. The two hadn't felt any pain. Soon they couldn't feel anything at all. Their muscles contracted and they were completely unable to move.

Ignaeus slashed wildly at the monster. He made a deep gash along its right flank. The monster oozed foul smelling ichor. Minako cartwheeled toward the monster. She formed her palm like holding a single drop of water. Moment before striking the monster between its frontal eyes, she tensed the side of her palm.

Hit landed with a thud. She back flipped as the monster burst open, covering Ignaeus, Syd, and Jacob with foul smelling ichor. Cleric and elf picked up the paralysed duo. Party fled the dungeon, barely avoiding several stirges that were attracted to foul excrement.

They found a safe nook some twenty minutes south of Castle Yukanthur and made a cold camp there until ranger and assassin were able to move again. Given it was night already, the party decided to wait for sunlight before traveling to Ironburg.

On his night watch, Ignaeus spotted a band of five dwarves singing and working by the entrance of Castle Yukanthur. From afar it seemed like they were clearing up the rubble and taking some of it with them.

Adventurers returned to Ironburg on noon of Goodgroove 7th.

Empty handed.

For how long can Ambros keep this gang fed, watered and dressed before being sucked dry himself?

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

For some weeks now I’m having a Teams notification on the computer. I’ve got a new chat message somewhere, but when I click on it, on the icon, there’s nothing new.

Nothing is there

And yet the notification,

Were I an electron app (God forbid), then it’ll be this teams installation with this confused message which is not to be found, probably an important message hidden in some obscure channel

Or maybe just nothing

But I’ll never know and thank God I’m human although I’d like to be an elf or something but that’s off topic

We just get this hand of cards we’ll have to play as best we can

No one asks for this

It looks diry, but it’s merely heavy snowfall lit by these streetlights on the dark gray sky creating this monochromic brownish look to the world, but it’s not that cold.

There was another dog out there, my black one already scared from anticipation, and then, when the nightmares come true; right around the corner there was this mongrel attached to a young man!

He just lay there in the snow (the dog, not the boy), patiently waiting , obscured by the falling snow, and then they finally left and the

Panic in my little black dog subsided and he too was able to pee on the fresh new canvas of deep newfallen snow

And by comparison, other dog owners get to feel real smug about themselves because their dogs don’t freak out about the darkness and the

Mongrels

And

The

Luggage with wheels

I, however I have a deep understanding of how scary it might seem outside

Not only does it seem scary, it is.

It is.

Although it’s not these known horrors which are the worst: it’s the silence of those you thought were your friends or even those you counted as your family.

The sharp edge of cowardice

That’s why I’ll advice kindness always

And bravery.

I realized the “Letters to E #4” was just a draft on my laptop so there it is now. Out of order but oh well.

I talked with my therapist, and I was able to speak about how I was really struggling with this feeling of conflict from her words and her actions. and I was able to speak about how I was really struggling with this feeling of conflict from her words and her actions. What happened with her roommates was really traumatic for me, right before an important meeting having those people enter my house and physically block me, antagonize me, say incredibly shitty things, and even record me without my knowledge while I’m crying.

I struggle a lot with crying. There was a period of four years during high school where I couldn’t cry once, and at one point I had even written a suicide note and planned to hang myself and still couldn’t cry. I only ended up crying in college once I was out of that house, and still it was really fucking hard for me to do that. Growing up as a kid, whenever I would cry I would be hit by my dad who would yell at me to stop crying, and continued to hit me until I stopped. I learned that it is not safe to cry in front of others, and that became locked into me. I started to feel a little bit safer with E, and I was even able to cry in front of her a few times. That made it feel so much more like a betrayal when she came to my house and broke up with me so aggressively, and then after I had started sobbing she told me how her roommates were downstairs. She then pushed on it even more and they started going around the house with bags and taking her stuff, all while her roommates laughed and made shitty comments. Me crying was met with shitty comments, laughing at me, mocking me, and holy fuck. Writing it down makes me want to cry so badly and I want to just curl up into a ball and hide. I wish it didn’t happen. I wish it didn’t happen so fucking badly. I want to throw up so fucking bad right now. I was supposed to be safe, and I was supposed to be healing and getting more comfortable, and it feels like I was hit so far back into that cage I was trapped in as a kid.

The part that hurts me and causes so much conflict now is how she listened to me, and acknowledged a lot of stuff and validated how I felt. She apologized a lot, and wanted to show that she meant it and it wasn’t just words. But she hasn’t talked to them about how what happened was not ok. Or how it was fucked up the stuff they did, and how that was regardless a shitty thing to do to someone. Instead she made more plans with them, and is hanging out with them.

If someone you knew had a nazi friend, and you were someone directly hurt by that, how would you feel if they continue to interact with them? They don’t say anything or push back on nazi comments, and had even done that stuff with them earlier against you. If they apologize and say they’ve changed, but then continue to hang out with that person while not talking to them about how what happened was wrong, what would you think?

I think this may be a dealbreaker for me in some ways, if she cannot recognize how what happened was not ok, and show that she isn’t that person anymore. That has to come from accountability, and that includes talking to her fucking attack dogs that did those stuff to me. I just don’t feel safe until that if I’m being honest. How am I supposed to believe that I am safe if she’s telling me that she realizes how what happened was fucked up and not ok, but keeps making plans to hang out with them without even talking to them about it.

I know that I need to just wait, and right now my emotions are really high, and it would be healthy if I can take a bit of space and wait a bit. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong. I am strong.

Situation: E broke up with me in such a nuclear way, and it came out of nowhere.

Thoughts: This feels so unfair to me, and this feels like a lack of emotional regulation and super high volatility. I don’t know how I can move past this and not feel like I’m walking on eggshells.

Feelings: I feel like I don’t deserve this, and that it’s unfairly being pinned on me, for her lack of communication. I feel very upset and hurt, and betrayed in a way. I told her that this was what I was afraid of, and she did it.

Behaviors: We either immediately break up, or I suck it up and feel uncomfortable and unsafe emotionally for a while.

Thoughts: She was emotionally volatile, and she doesn’t have the best luck with her childhood either. Emotional regulation is hard for her, and this was a point where there was just too much volatility. She’s just faced with a lot of pain and discomfort, and she didn’t know how to communicate well enough to release that tension, and this happened. She doesn’t want to hurt me, she just doesn’t want to keep hurting.

Feelings: I mean I do love her. And it hurts because I feel wrongly hurt, but also she’s been hurting and we are a team. No need to justify why she is hurting or who’s “fault” that is. I don’t feel like she wants to break up, she wants to just stop feeling this much.

Behaviors: Yes I am within my rights to leave. So is she. But I care about her, and I can empathize with where she is coming from. I also believe that this volatility will go down, and I know that the good times are good with her.

1. I really like how we get to trade roles, and you let me be softer and the little spoon.

2. Massages from you make me feel warm and safe. Same with when you scratch my back, I feel like a cat that just melts.

3. I really love your family, especially your mom. But also I think H is such a good kid and I want to be in his life if I can be.

4. You sometimes make really fucking stupid faces, and I think it’s really cute.

5. You let me vent when I need to, and I know it’s hard and a bit foreign but you let me just rant and say stuff without having to filter it.

6. You make me feel very attractive, and there’s a lot of different ways where I struggle with that so that means a lot to me.

7. I love being able to do this with you.

8. I love how I get to show off to you at the gym, and how you do that little voice and talk about your strong boyfriend.

9. Our double high fives at the gym are something that I think is very iconic and makes me blush thinking about it for some reason.

10. I love how much time you make for me. I know that you have plenty of other things but you still manage to carve out a lot of time to spend with me and I appreciate that a lot.

11. I think you’re a really good designer in the sims, your houses and apartments are really well structured and it’s something I always marvel at.

12. I really appreciate how you apologize and go out of your way to take accountability with things, when you do that I feel very secure with you and emotionally safe.

13. I think you have an incredibly open mind, and that’s really nice because that means that I get to explore and try things with you.

14. I take a lot of pride in your bench press. Not only the weight, but how much you like it. You aren’t like the other girls.

15. I think your humor is a lot like mine, and I love how I can make all different kinds of jokes with you.

16. The fact that we have fights and conflict, but we make up makes me feel secure. I believe that even when things get bad and rough, you still fight to work it out with me.

17. Your glasses were at first a bit jarring to me, but now I wouldn’t want it any other way. You have such beautiful eyes, and I get to see two different types of them because of your massive lenses. I love it so much, and I almost take pride in that (if that’s ok with you)

18. I think you’re incredibly resilient for the shit that you’ve been dealt, and how you keep your chin up and fight for what you have and where you’ve gotten. I know that a lot of things are biologically harder for you, and you don’t even complain but you just grind and make it work. I admire that so much about you.

The $100,000 Heartbreak: Rethinking the College Dream in the Age of AI

A friend recently shared some startling news: she and her husband sold their family home to fund their daughter’s education at a prestigious private university. My initial reaction—a skeptical “Really?“—was perhaps a bit too transparent.

“It was her dream school,” she explained. “It’s where we both went. She’s our only child; it felt wrong to deny her that, especially since she wants to work in the arts.” Today, their daughter is happy and successful. On the surface, it’s a win. But as I walked away, I couldn't shake a nagging thought: In an unpredictable world, a paid-off home is a safety net. A degree is a gamble.

The “Education Premium” is Evaporating

My parents mortgaged their house to send me to school in the late 80s. Back then, a degree was the “end-all-be-all.” But the math has changed. We are entering an era where the “college premium”—the extra earning power a degree provides—is shrinking in real-time. With the arrival of AI, the entry-level “knowledge work” jobs that graduates traditionally occupied are being vaporized. I recently spoke with a professor at a national university who told me, “For the first time, I have Computer Science grads calling me because they’re driving Ubers to make ends meet.”

The statistics back up this anxiety:

Confidence is cratering: 63% of Americans now feel college isn't worth the cost, up from 40% in 2013.

The Job Gap: Only 12% of current seniors secure a full-time job by graduation.

The Degree Paradox: 52% of recent grads are working jobs that don’t even require a degree.

The Barbell Effect: Elite vs. The Rest

If you are weighing the cost of a degree today, think of the higher education landscape as a barbell. On one end, you have the Elite/Top-Tier schools. They will likely be fine. In fact, as the market tightens, employers are “going narrow.” Firms like McKinsey and GE Appliances have slashed their recruiting lists from dozens of schools to just 15 or 20 core campuses. If you’re at an Ivy, Vanderbilt, or Notre Dame, the network alone might still justify the price tag.

On the other end, you have Low-Cost/Vocational options. Trade schools, community colleges, and affordable state schools offer a path to resilient careers—like nursing, HVAC, or electrical work—that AI can't easily replicate.

The “Danger Zone” is the middle: Expensive, mid-tier private colleges with low endowments. These “marginal” schools are the most vulnerable. We’ve already seen institutions like King’s College in NYC close their doors, and the Federal Reserve predicts dozens more will follow by 2029.

What Actually Matters in the AI Age?

If an academic record is no longer a golden ticket, what is? I suspect we are returning to a world where “human” traits outweigh SAT scores:

Demonstrated Grit: Being a high-performing athlete or a student leader may signal more to an employer than a high GPA.

Physical Proximity: Employers are recruiting closer to home to save costs and ensure retention. If your child wants to work in a specific industry, they should go to school in that city.

The “Literacy Hedge”: In a world of AI-generated noise, the ability to read for pleasure and write coherently will be a rare competitive advantage. Clear writing is clear thinking. The Non-Economic Reality Of course, the math misses the human element. College is a “maturation environment.” When I look back, my strongest memory isn't a lecture; it was falling in love and then navigating a soul-crushing breakup. I learned how to get out of bed when I didn't want to. I learned how to survive. That’s a life skill you can't get from a trade school or a YouTube tutorial.

My Advice for Families

We are at a crossroads. Sacrificing everything for a “dream school” was a solid bet a generation ago. Today, it’s a shaky proposition.

Before you sign those loan papers, consider this:

Check the school’s vitals: Ensure the college is financially stable enough to exist in 10 years.

The “Two-Year” Strategy: Consider community college for credits, then transferring to a “name brand” school for the diploma.

Value the Trades: There is no shame—and much profit—in being the person who knows how to fix the world AI can't touch.

The promise of education remains, but the path has become a tightrope. Move carefully.

Would you like me to help you draft a checklist of questions to ask a college admissions office regarding their financial stability and career placement rates?

Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

The Sting of Heaven

April to make notice A prairie dawn to hold And noticing days of pain Fortitude in trust and prayer A difference of peace within- And go in, Victory’s pounce on bits of grass Waking the heights to fiber Sympathies in trust to better men And Don seeks a deal Where there isn’t one to carry Each cast remissions by night This target is a season fair to view And in summary- An asteroid Screaming at you in sickness Four times per hour The duty cam proposed Chariots and missions and the missed A war or two to right But nothing great the poison touch There is simple real- and friends of the enemy To carry her first- To apprehensions, maybe The police won at six and merriness applies- The Victory of Winfrey standing near Without the wrecking study Across to the open end of Weir A colossal day at war- in trust to Gore and the perpetua Sinking ships signing Crosses to be labeled With one echo in this stream And a world without words For time to see And give us men And take this war, compatriot And seize the Holy Blessing As we breathe- Even fiction shall know Because of her- We walk in respect And carry our tally To this field.

The Victory of Ukraine

For days beseen in Heav’ Litany if Ghosts in fear Justice in Water And small pens The rhythm of daily wonder Effects to the late in May Fallen years and days.. And the months we sceptre Iranian blues by the lift Salmon in wonder of the Navy Pressing by the dew And skips of the Ron for water’s end In peers we knew the end Small wonder for wars that would Like this one, and the news we thought Blasting to corridors And courage to connect the one Not freely, but in temper And just in spirit- To go alone For Victory this alias And a sky of wonder to know Same time as the Deity- Our Father in Heaven Who put us first In fearless wonder And the day gave way Making Bread as hand in hand The four shots we heard that day And we knew of Absolom- and the meek and wonder To be old and powder’s due This symphony of a hangman’s dirge Calling collective to the Royal A page in view, And offering to collect A fortune’s path- but we were there, in toe The ecstasy of charting In due course change our plan And noticed charge Victory is ours And Home For the better day As we wait.

The Victory of Ukraine (part II)

Sun to wake us in ruin But this was our zeal The Navy accepts a thing or two in a handshake Mystery to us all Ruses down for the count And in these three years of reaction Misery is at liberty’s door Offering the observable in a basket Proverbs to the Times and other three A politician’s wonder And people as they speak of Rome And our column, the heir Mystery of the Lord And we are in pain, and see an arc The fires of the Sun, with Britain’s Cross Inking our page in as small as it gets Lighting fortune for better years- such as this And in the iris an image Of days on the waiting deck Nearly the steady, prodigal unite Offering and barely soon But to the savings of men- and their chariot and their street- and their poem The place was hers, Sweet Ukraine And thirty-somethings back at seventeen Adorned with mystery and prayer For even our buildings got shot But we have glad news and time to carry Our lost and gone are together And together approved of a plan To collect our belongings as apostles And know their weary home is blue Days for three and here The Inkerman of June- and at night For rote and skill No pauper be afraid Victory is here Even artifacts rejoice- Ecstasy all at once And across Europe they may The steady ship and lay Union in public- with all our stars And what us May- and June A high and steady deal Putin is gone- and left this year To the West our clout Fairing new The victory car In Heaven’s rain Without fail.

You move into your new house. You buy some new things that better suit your space. This means some of your old stuff must go. Houses in Florida do not seem to have storage areas or enough closets, so it’s time for a garage sale. But wait! You cannot do that.

Per the Community Standards in my lovely neighborhood:

Community Yard Sale Events

No personal events are permitted. The Community may at its discretion hold two (2) or more events each year. Property Management will coordinate these events with volunteers. Signage will be placed on common areas. No signage will be placed on individual property.

This one was a big shocker for me. I grew up in a place where garage/yards sales abound. People come browsing for goods once the days breaks. And, in order to compete, you must go early because all the good stuff is gone by 11 am—and the stuff is good. If your neighbors coordinated, it turned into a big event with smiling faces, chatter, some lemonade, and your neighbors’ trash turning into your treasures.

My HOA neighborhood holds its community yard sale twice a year. In the earlier days, we did not get many visitors because we did not have any signs indicating as such. And according to the standards, homeowners cannot put out any signs. But they did. And they do. It is a Saturday and Sunday affair starting at 8 am—which is weird to me because that start time is late and I didn’t know people did this on Sundays. Also it seems that in Tampa Bay Area garage sales, people sell things that properly belong in last years’ trash bin—or last decades’ trash bin.

Regardless, homeowners apparently have to hold on to their junk until the HOA says so. And yard sale shoppers have to fight the trash collection trucks, the recycling trucks, and deal with no places to park on these narrow ass streets. This is the freedom that you get when you buy in an HOA-governed community. Bah humbug!

I’m trying to take a slower path through Lent, which means I’ve adjusted my prayer resources to prize spaciousness and reflection over verbiage and repetition. I still have my various prayer beads and breath prayers if I want to spend time in a meditative rhythm, but the extended silence, journaling, and wonder have felt just right thus far.

In place of my usual daily office resources, I’m using the book pictured above (Wondrous Encounters: Scipture for Lent by Richard Rohr) for a daily reading that anchors me in a theme and question from the day’s lectionary and the book pictured below ( The Methodist Book of Daily Prayer edited by Matt Miofsky) to provide pillars of morning and evening prayer. I especially like the focus each day of thinking about intercessions and petitions as the day begins, and closing out the day’s work with prayers of gratitude. This pattern encourages me to pick up the necessary, the possible, and perhaps even the impossible each day and see what unfolds in addressing these needs. At the end of the day, I feel a corresponding encouragement to give thanks for what God has done in me, through me, around me, and beyond me!

Alongside these readings, I continue to benefit from the Ignatian audio meditations found at Pray as You Go, and my practice of centering prayer. The great paradox of Lent is that we make room for bearing witness to suffering, rejection, pain, and loss, things we frequently try to avoid or tamp down. It is in and through this space holding that we find the passion and compassion of God making space for life, promise, resurrection, and transformation. Unless we are prepared to hold these opposing energies together and bear witness to what emerges, the season can pass us by without really cracking us open.

I hope that if you’re embracing this penitential season or another like it, that you are finding ways to go more slowly and really be present to what is unfolding.

Practice

• How fast am I going right now?
• What would it look like to go 3% slower?
• What might emerge in that space?
• Where do I notice myself becoming more aware of the moment and setting down my preoccupation with the past and the future?
• What does it feel like to hold two (or more) things at once in my body?
• How can pray alongside paradox and mystery?

Spurs vs Pistons

My Monday night radio game comes from the NBA. Our San Antonio Spurs travel up north to play against the Detroit Pistons. The game's scheduled start time of 6:00 PM CST fits nicely into my personal routine. I'll be listening to the call of the game, as well as pregame and postgame coverage, on 1200 WOAI, the flagship station for the San Antonio Spurs.

And the adventure continues.

Written by Charles Wesley and first published in 1740, “Depth of Mercy! Can There Be?” captures the anguish of sin, the mercy of God in Christ, the undeserved grace of God in justification, and the necessity of cooperation with the Spirit in our sanctification.

We aren't inclined to sing hymns of this length today, which—as we've seen in previous hymns—is to our detriment. This hymn is worthy of our close reading and meditation during the penitential season of Lent.

1. Depth of mercy! Can there be Mercy still reserved for me? Can my God His wrath forbear, Me, the chief of sinners, spare?

2. I have long withstood His grace, Long provoked Him to His face, Would not hearken to His calls, Grieved Him by a thousand falls.

3. I my master have denied, I afresh have crucified, And profaned His hallowed name, Put Him to an open shame.

4. I have spilt His precious blood, Trampled on the Son of God, Filled with pangs unspeakable, I, who yet am not in hell!

5. Lo! I still walk on the ground: Lo! an advocate is found: Hasten not to cut him down, Let this barren soul alone.

6. Jesus speaks, and pleads His blood! He disarms the wrath of God; Now my Father’s mercies move, Justice lingers into love.

7. Kindled His relentings are, Me He now delights to spare, Cries, How shall I give thee up? Lets the lifted thunder drop.

8. Whence to me this waste of love? Ask my advocate above! See the cause in Jesus’ face, Now before the throne of grace.

9. There for me the Savior stands, Shows His wounds and spreads His hands. God is love! I know, I feel; Jesus weeps and loves me still.

10. Jesus, answer from above, Is not all Thy nature love? Wilt Thou not the wrong forget, Permit me to kiss Thy feet?

11. If I rightly read Thy heart, If Thou all compassion art, Bow Thine ear, in mercy bow, Pardon and accept me now.

12. Pity from Thine eye let fall, By a look my soul recall; Now the stone to flesh convert, Cast a look, and break my heart.

13. Now incline me to repent, Let me now my sins lament, Now my foul revolt deplore, Weep, believe, and sin no more.

#hymnody #Lent