Are All Welcome?

A 6 ft, 225 pound "child" with autism has made a habit of spitting and urinating during church AND often requires cloth restraints to keep him from hurting others.

As a leader of the church, what is the appropriate response? Asking the parents to step in and then filing a restraining order?

After reading the story, is there something the priest should have done instead? What would your move have been?

My philosophy of ministry

I really think that I only have one responsibility as a youth pastor, and that is to hand out this shirt to every teenager I meet.

http://www.choiceshirts.com/item/A11340B/

Hope I'm Worth It....

Maybe you've heard this story before:

The father's name was John Griffith. He had lost all he had in the stock market crash. He moved to Mississippi where he took a job as bridge operator for a railroad trestle. In 1937 he was involved in a horrible accident. One day his 8 year-old son, Greg, spent the day with his Dad at work. The boy poked around the office and asked dozens of questions - just like little boys do. The bridge was over a river and when-ever a ship came John had to open the bridge to allow the ships to pass. The day the boy was there with his father a ship was coming so John opened up the draw bridge. After a moment or two he realized his son wasn't in the office and as he looked around, to his horror, John saw his son climbing around on the gears of the draw bridge. He hurried outside to rescue his son but just then he heard a fast approaching passenger train, the Memphis Express, filled with 400 people. He yelled to his son, but the noise of the now clearing ship and the oncoming train made it impossible for the boy to hear him. All of a sudden John Griffith realized his horrible dilemma. If he took the time to rescue his son the train would crash killing all aboard, but if he closed the bridge, the boy would be crushed in the gears. John would sacrifice his son. He made the horrible decision, pulled the lever and closed the bridge. It is said, as the train went by John could see the faces of the passengers, some reading, some even waving, all of them oblivious to the sacrifice that had just been made for them

The father had to be absolutely heartbroken about the sacrifice of his son. If I found out that my life had been spared because of this father's sacrifice, I would do everything in my power to make sure that my life was worth it. I would be a great person, try to cure cancer, anything to show the father that he might have made the right decision.


In this Easter season, my mind often goes to the sacrifice that the Father made- watching as His Son was ridiculed, spit on, beaten, and murdered. And more than anything else, this realization makes me want to live my life so that the Father doesn't think he made a mistake by paying such a high price so that I may one day live.

Easter should be a celebration, but I can't help but think that it should also serve to keep us accountable for our actions.

I'm a boring and slightly bottled man

Right now I am reading the autobiography of Eric Clapton. It's not exactly heavy reading, but I do enjoy a good biography from time to time. What strikes me the most about him (and other artists) is the way music became a soothing medication for the sicknesses in his life. When he was brokenhearted by tragedy, he churned out "Tears in Heaven." When he was hopelessly in love with the wife of one of his best friends (George Harrison of the Beatles), he created many tracks, including "Layla."

I want that. Well, not that exactly. I want to have some sort of outlet where I can take what is swimming around on the inside and make it something constructive on the outside. When I get upset, I'm just upset until it passes. I think I need a hobby.

Im outta here

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'll be back in my home state for about a week- so expect to hear from me later!



While I'm out- spend your hours looking at icanhascheezburger.com. If you can't enjoy yourself here, then you're just not alive.

It's On Like Donkey Kong...

I'm not entirely sure that I'm finished with my Christmas lights yet, but here's how it started...

Here is a slanty shot of the front of the house...
Here's a another shot of the front...

And here's a shot of the side of the house where our garage is...

It's beginning to look a lot like....

Here's something almost everyone knows about me. I REALLY get into the Christmas spirit. I love the trees, the lights, the drunken uncles- all of it. Especially the lit up houses though. Nothing jingles my bells like seeing a house covered in tiny lights.

Here's my problem- until this year I have lived in apartments, so I haven't had the chance to decorate anything. This year- we are in a house, and I have been stockpiling Christmas lights for 3 years. By the time I'm done, I expect airplanes to try to land on my roof. It's gonna get crazy.

I was going to wait until after Thanksgiving to put my lights up- but I don't think that's gonna happen. My brother in law is coming to town this weekend and I think he's going to help me rig up everything.

I know what you're thinking- "Hold your horses! It's too early to decorate for Christmas." Well, too bad. I'm going for it. People who hold their horses look like this guy: