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The Way Station Blog

faith explorers in virtual community

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faith

Some advice I took

I was raised Catholic in America by English parents. I grew up, went to college, wandered off on my own. Years later, I was practicing walking meditation at a Buddhist monastery that turned out to be thronged by lapsed Catholics.... Continue Reading →

Virtual Community: One year that feels like a lifetime… in a good way!

The quote above was Phil's on 26/5/16. I liked it, so I memed it that same day... 🙂 Stories are worth remembering, I wanted to mark a point we've reached on this day in the journey of the Way Station. Today, it's exactly... Continue Reading →

Boxed In

This is intimidating. An intro piece about who I am. We live in suffocating boxes, and we put others into the preconceived boxes in our minds. Yet, we all agree that these edgy, sharp cornered boxes keep us detached from... Continue Reading →

We can’t ALL be right? Can we? Subjective and Objective perspectives on faith

“This all men speak of as God” is the conclusion to the third of Thomas Aquinas’ “Quinque Viae”, commonly thought of as the quintessential proofs of the existence of God. The other four end with permutations on the same theme.... Continue Reading →

TWS Conversations (3) – Gordon, who we met on the Omega Course: rethinking what Jesus meant about loving yourself

To-Do Lists

How I became part of The Way Station can be connected to my lists. My To-Do lists are slightly ridiculous.  There are things on these lists such as "Start a Yoga Practice," “Learn Latin” and “Plan Entire Summer,” as well... Continue Reading →

Discords and violent faith journeying

Suspended, Unresolved The nicest ladies taught me how to pray In Sunday Best, contained and passionless As if some cross-stitched Christ, all wafer thin And prim could only bear for me to humour him. I threw my new guitar across... Continue Reading →

Waves

Like this. Unplugged, to float we reach towards each other's melting. Walls unhiding raw from broken heart and breath. Unforced. Like tears, politely clear at first, then sad, or gastric acid red, we crash in tidal waves of gush that... Continue Reading →

Methodists, Baptists, Guitars, Books, and Love

When I was training for ministry, as part of a course called ‘Transformative Pastoral Practice,’ we were asked to map our stories of care. The idea was to identify key moments that, or people who, had helped shape our working... Continue Reading →

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