Trinitas Blog

In this post-postmodern age in which we live, truth has become so relative that actual truth, real truth, true truth is hardly recognizable. Relative truth is a truth that is true for me but may not be true for you, or one that is true for me relative to the situation I am in—it may not even be true for me in a different situation. Relative truth is so dependent upon individual feelings, place, and time that we have to differentiate it from the actual objective truth somehow, as I did above by using the term true truth. This is bonkers, and it screams for a lecture on the importance of language, but that can be saved for another day. Just remember that whoever defines the terms controls the conversation.

One of the great purposes of this life is our sanctification, that process whereby we—with the help of the Holy Spirit—become more like Christ throughout our lifetime. We are eternal beings, bound for glory, and this life offers us lots of opportunities to prepare. Becoming like Christ consists in part, as the Apostle Paul says, of putting off the old man (Col 3:9) and putting off our sins (Col 3:8). I don’t know about you, but I seem to have a lot of sin to put off, and I couldn’t even start the project of putting it off until I knew what sin was and what God thought about my sin. I should have started a lot earlier in life than I did! Talk about wasted youth, sheesh.

I grew up in the woods. As a boy, if I walked east from my house, I could travel about ten miles crossing one lonely old railroad track, several creeks, the Escambia River, and several thousand acres of forest before coming to another significant sign of civilization, and that was a 500-acre peanut field. I grew up in the woods.

The term “helicopter parents” has been used to describe parents who for the past three decades, give or take a few years, have been over-protective, micro-managing, and sometimes just plain suffocating to their children. It seems helicopter parents don’t want their children to experience hardship or danger or difficulty or failure, and that motivates them to intervene in all aspects of their children’s lives, rushing in at every opportunity to preserve a perfect day.

 We parents are often tempted to idolize our children’s happiness. From the time they are born, we tolerate nothing that makes them cry—not hunger, not boredom, not loneliness. We react immediately to their cries with whatever remedy is necessary. Of course, it is our job to provide for their needs, and babies express those needs by crying; however, babies will eventually grow up. A baby who has never been allowed to experience a moment or two of unhappiness—probably more like an inconvenience—can become an older child, then a teenager, then an adult who has no tolerance for anything that makes him unhappy or inconveniences him. Such a person is impossible to live with, for he acts as if he is sovereign of the world and tramples everyone around him to get what he wants.

Summer break provides an opportunity for parents to rest from the routines of the school year and give fresh consideration to the joys of parenting. In this summer series, Mr. Gilley draws upon his experience as a father of two grown sons and grandfather of four to share with us Five Perfect Gifts for Children. Whether this is your first time to enjoy the series or you have enjoyed it before, be encouraged and drink deeply of the wisdom contained within and share it freely with anyone blessed with a "heritage from the Lord." 

We'll begin with a preview of all five gifts and then unpack each individually over the next five weeks. 

Kurt Vonnegut gave a commencement speech towards the later end of his career, and he advised that all such speeches should begin with a joke. I toyed around with possibilities for this venue, including the much beloved green ping pong ball joke, the always-appreciated purple kingdom joke, and the new-to-many-of-you story about lil’ Johnny and the Noodle Man. However, none of them seemed quite right for the occasion, so I thought I’d do something completely different: let’s start tonight by defining our terms. I promise if you’ll bear with me, that this will be over quickly.

This week we celebrated the retirement of one of Trinitas’s most beloved teachers of all time. After twenty years of teaching in the Grammar School, Mrs. Wendy Phillips is retiring from that role. Many alumni, parents of alumni, students, and faculty members gathered for a time of remembering, gift-giving, and neck-hugging to send Mrs. Phillips out in style.