One Pastor's Perspective

Today is Drew’s 14th birthday!! That means, in a month, I will have been at Ebenezer for 14 years. WOW!!! It seems much longer. (Just kidding)

Anyway, in honor of Drew and his love for the other red meat, here is today’s funny from www.mikeysfunnies.com

“This baked ham is really delicious,” the priest teased the rabbi. “You really ought to try it. I know it’s against your religion, but I can’t understand why such a wonderful food should be forbidden! You don’t know what you’re missing. You just haven’t lived until you’ve tried Mrs. Hall’s prized Virginia Baked Ham. Tell me, Rabbi, when are you going to break down and try it?”

The rabbi looked at the priest with a big grin, and said, “At your wedding.”

today’sTHOT============================
Give a man a fish and feed him for a day. Give a man a stick of dynamite and soon the whole village will be strewn with mud, seaweed, and unidentifiable chunks of fish.

As a pastor, I see the best and worst of people. I get the privilege of being with folks in some of the best times of life, and I have the responsibility of being there in some of the worst. A by-product of serving people is I get caught in the middle of disputes and sometimes feel the brunt of personal agenda.

In other words, sometimes my job is GREAT and sometimes it stinks. And one of the times it really stinks is when folks feel the need to tell me things that are not true. Okay, times when people lie. I have this thing about honesty . . . I believe trust is like a bank account you build up with others. And when people choose to lie, my trust in them quickly disappears.

Not only as a pastor, but as a person I appreciate honesty. People also make this mistake of believing that I am judging everything that everyone does. Trust me, I have seen it all!!! And I am not your judge.

So, be honest . . . I promise I probably won’t throw holy water at you.

Oh, be careful little mouth what you say . . .

Whenever you get a group of people together, politics exist. Plain and simple. Someone will have an agenda. Someone will not get along with another. Someone will feel slighted or left out.

That is a fact. Tommy Dowling used to remind us that some personalities will naturally shun others, as two magnet faces with the same polarity will push away from each other. That WILL happen.

Paul wrote much about how we handle it. He told us to love each other. Peter wrote love covers a multitude of sins. Jesus said the greatest things we can do are to love God with all of our hearts and love each other more than we love ourselves.

So why do politics exist in the church?? Pride and self-righteousness (which is a child of pride). That inner need to be proud, to do something that makes us feel important or special. That inner drive to be better than others. IT TEARS A CHURCH APART.

And I am finding that I have not only grown tired of all of that, it is starting to make me sick. Physically sick. And I have enough stress in my personal life right now, so I could do without it.

Know what I mean, Vern??

Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place.

Looking up to heaven he said, “Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place, I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!”

Miraculously, a parking place appeared. Paddy looked up again and said, “Never mind, I found one.”

Thought for the day============================
Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate.

(www.mikeysfunnies.com)

When Krissy was in fifth grade, her rec softball coach yelled at the end of practice, “We need more pitchers. Anybody want to try??” Krissy looked at me and said “I do.” I okayed it, but thought “Oh, goodness.”

She went out to the mound and threw a few pitches, and low and behold, she was not half bad. Okay, so her coaches worked with her but told her the only way she would be better is to practice off the field.

Hence, the bucket. We would go out into the yard, I would sit on a bucket, and she would throw the ball ANYWHERE BUT to me. I dreaded it. I made Drew go stand behind us, knowing he would catch far more balls than I.

As she continued to work, a friend started working with her. Helping her develop form. He did that for a while. She eventually hit seventh grade and made the JV team at West Florence. As a pitcher. She was tiny compared to all of the other girls. And our friend told us he had helped her as much as he could.

We asked the coach for a recommendation and she brought us to our current pitching coach. She told us Krissy had potential. Over the years she worked hard with Krissy and inspired Krissy to work hard. And I spent more time on the bucket.

Yeah, I tried to get her to throw to a bounce-back net. I bought a sports net with a target. No good. She needed a live catcher.

So the bucket became our time to talk. There has been pain on the bucket. There has been anger on the bucket. There were a handful of times that I thought we would never pitch again. NOT that I pushed Krissy, because I never really had to do that. But she wears her emotions on her sleeves, and there were times when we packed up and I never thought we would go back. But we always did.

The bucket is a symbol of her work ethic. And she is a worker. When she is determined to do something, watch out, because she WILL do it.

The bucket also became a great time for a dad and daughter to talk. And talk we did. We have been through some tough times over the years. And our pitching practice was always a time to talk about that stuff. The ups and downs of life. The times where advice was sought. Over this winter, I started realizing that I would miss sitting on that bucket. In spite of all of the times I got hit, I didn’t feel like being there, or other things in life were pulling me away, I will miss the bucket.

Because the bucket is no more . . . Last night ended all of that. NO, I won’t get rid of the bucket. I might have a grandson or granddaughter (MANY, MANY YEARS FROM NOW) who wants me to sit on that bucket again. And if I am able, I will. But for now, it will have a place of honor in my garage and in my heart.

I will never forget the bucket.

It has been a good ride. She started playing softball in third grade. Couldn’t even catch the ball. In fact, Krissy has broken her nose three times so far in her life, and TWO of them were softball related (the first was when she was learning to catch).

She started pitching in the fifth grade. That is when I started catching her in practice. Those times have been some of the best we’ve had, and I plan to blog about that later.

Needless to say, this will be a tough night. Walking off that field one more time. But she has nothing to be ashamed of, and no regrets . . . I can assure you that Krissy Wike has given it her best EVERY TIME SHE TOOK THE FIELD. That is what really matters in all of this.

So, we are grateful for one last night.

Yes, as soon as prayer meeting was over I was the one that left a vapor trail between Ebenezer and Darlington High. By the time I got there it was too late . . . In the first inning, they scored three runs. Game was technically over at that point, as we did not score a run. In the second, they scored four. The ONLY positive in this, for me, is that Krissy was not on the mound. Yet another rough night.

I keep telling Krissy to enjoy these last few games . . . We have one Friday, one Saturday, and one Monday. And then it is all over. Not looking forward to Monday. Brings back memories of my last high school basketball game and how I felt afterwards. Nope, I am not looking forward to Monday at all.

I often remind people at funerals that you preach your own funeral . . . WITH YOUR LIFE. What a pastor says at your funeral will seldom be remembered . . . What people remember is HOW YOU LIVED.

What kind of funeral are YOU preaching??

Think about it . . . What would you like for people to say??

Three good friends were driving along on the highway one Saturday: a doctor, a teacher, and a lawyer. All of a sudden, a brand-new SUV cut them off. In an attempt to miss the shiny big vehicle, the driver swerved to the left and hit the median. The car flipped several times and all three friends died instantly.

They all found themselves in line waiting to get into Heaven. The doctor asked the others, “Hey, what do you want people to say at your funeral? I want them to say, ‘She was a great doctor, and she never let down any of her patients.'”

The teacher said, “I want people to remember me as a great educator, so I would want to hear people say, ‘He was a wonderful teacher, a great role model for children, and he changed countless lives throughout his career.'”

Then the lawyer said, “I’d like people to say, ‘Look! He’s moving!'”

(Okay, I got the last part from mikeysfunnies.com)