Costco in a panic

 

The Costco in King of Prussia was terrorized today by two toddlers.

Ellery Faith comes home

Ellery came home yesterday and is doing really well.

Peyton's Crime

From Peyton's crime

Facing the Giant

Our team was winning, 9-5 going into the bottom of the 5th. I brought in a kid who has struggled but looked good in practice two nights earlier. They never throw like they do in practice, though. They scored the max, five runs. We came back in the 6th and scored the tying run, but couldn't get anymore than that. The top of the order was due up and Jordan did not pitch well in his last game, plus he said his finger was sore was chewing his nail too short (ouch). But I had no choice, so I asked Jordan to pitch. Losing this game would have been a heart breaker. He struck out the first batter, but the second kid was a twelve year old 5'-10'' er, (seriously). He fouled off a few and with every swing I cringed. Jordan shook his hand after every pitch and I couldn't tell if it really hurt or this was for the dramatic effect. The ump asked if he was ok and he said yeah. Then Jordan threw him one right down the middle and my heart stopped, swing and a miss. The last kid grounded out to first and we salvaged a tie.

It's one of those moments in a kid's little league career that should be remembered, and used for encouragement to help him through the tough times to follow.

Muggeridge on Utopianism

Another defence against God has been utopianism, and the revolutionary fervour that goes therewith. A passion to change the world and make it nearer to the heart's desire automatically excludes God, who represents the principle of changelessness, and confronts each heart's desire with its own nullity. It was confidently believed that a kingdom of heaven on earth could be established, with 'God, Keep Out' notices prominently displayed at the off-limits. In practice, the various versions of this kingdom have one and all proved a failure; utopian hopes washed away in the blood of Stalin's purges, reduced to the dimensions of Mr Wilson's one book, liberated out of existence.

Muggeridge on prayer

Malcom Muggeridge writes: He (Dietrich Boenhoffer) is then taken to Flossenburg where he is given the death sentence. After it has been delivered the prison doctor catches a glimpse of him through the half opened door of one of the huts, still in his prison clothes, and kneeling in fervent prayer to the Lord his God. 'The devotion and evident conviction of being heard that I saw in the prayer of this intensely captivating man', the doctor was subsequently to recall, 'moved me to the depths.' The next morning, naked under the scaffold in the sweet spring woods, Bonhoeffer kneels for the last time to pray. Five minutes later his life is ended.

As this happens, five years of the monstrous buffooneries of war are drawing to a close. Hitler's Reich that was to last for a thousand years will soon reach its ignominious and ruinous end; the liberators are moving in from the east and the west with bombs and tanks and guns and cigarettes and Spam; the air is thick with rhetoric and cant. Looking back now after twentyfour years, I ask myself where in that murky darkness any light shines. Not among the Nazis, certainly, nor among the liberators, who, as we know, were to liberate no one and nothing. The rhetoric and the cant have mercifully been forgotten; what lives on is the memory of a man who died, not on behalf of freedom or democracy or a steadily rising Gross National Product, not for any of the twentieth century's counterfeit hopes and desires, but on behalf of a cross on which another man died two thousand years before. As on that previous occasion, on Golgotha, so amidst the rubble and desolation of 'liberated' Europe, the only victor is the man who died, as the only hope for the future lies in his triumph over death. There never can be any other victory or any other hope. This is what I am trying, so inadequately, to say.

Daniel boy