Till I received this blog link from my dear friend Pam, and found teardrops accumulating in my eyelids.
Cancer is harsh, and even when defeated, the scars -- physical and emotional -- can be overwhelming. As a disease, breast cancer is only rivaled by the pain and despair it can leave in
its wake.
This month, take time to say I love you to ALL the women in your lives. It's perfect practice for the other eleven months.
It has been a busy Summer and Fall. Two teams to coach (and travel with), running the youth program at East, deciding to help run the YCI program at East Meck, finding the time to do FCA at the same school, and most importantly, a new baby at any time.
Oh Yeah. I. Am. On. Fire. God keeps the doors permanently open.
East has been a fountain of opportunity. Great people, and there is ALWAYS something to do. Our Youth Sunday was successful, and now we are looking to be used by God in other ways.
I also get to work with PJ on our web initiative. Very, very time consuming, but very, very rewarding. I take my hat off to all the REAL web architects out there. Creating a church website is no joke, and for all my assumed computer savvy, it has been a steep learning curve.
So, all in all, it has been one blessed time period.
Gotta run. I have a pregnant woman to attend to, and I want to live to tell y'all some more.
As a soccer coach, I have learned quite a lot about being charge. Mostly, that "being in charge" is not a call to dictatorship. I have also learned that to be successful with kids, you must be successful with the motivating factor behind those kids.
Yes, I am talking of the "P-word" here: PARENTS!
When I was younger, it was easy to view parents as a necessary evil. You almost always had one that was a a braggart, another who knew the governor, and one whose knowledge of soccer consisted of the drunken periodic scream "Big kick, d*****!" Yet, in everything, those folks are the same people who have the most influence on your players. You learn to value them. Some of my best friends are parents of current and past parents.
Last weekend, I was thrust into the hot seat. My baby girl was playing a game. And I was on the sideline, for the first time in my life, as a parent.
When I watch soccer games, I automatically go into analytical mode. I look at formations, balance, weak side threats and relative speed of attack. It is the goalkeeper in me, honed by years of coaching. Within seconds, I can generally figure out leaks and advantages.
On Saturday, I couldn't do that. My eyes were on #7. My pride knew no bounds, even when she stood rooted to the ground for 5 minutes without going for the ball. This same move would have elicited a growl from me with my older players... but at that moment, to me, it was almost adorable.
The toughest thing was letting go. I had always shied away from pushing Mimi towards soccer. I never wanted to become the crazy father, forcing her to practice juggling till 1 AM daily. So seeing her pick it up and play herself was humbling, and it was weird seeing Coach Thad bringing her along.
I take my hat off, again, to all the guys and gals who coach youth soccer at the grassroots level. You know... the folks who have not been jaded by advanced coaching courses, and who probably never heard of the game till they found out their kids would not have a season if they did not step up. Thanks for all you do, for creating the individual masterpieces that we get later on in the journey.
Thanks to all the rec coaches, like Coach Thad, who work hard, a lot of times for free, and help ensure that I can switch from Coach Tre to the one title in the world cooler than that:
I happened to catch some of Tyra Bank's show the other day, and was it heart-wrenching. Tyra had a bunch of teens, one as young as thirteen (13) who confessed to having numerous sexual partners. The discussions, which included most of the girls talking about sexual activities in public, their parents bed, without contraceptives and even multiple partners, included commentary from shocked mothers and pep talks from the host.
Interestingly, the mothers generally knew their daughters were sexually active. It was the sheer amount that seemed to scare the daylights out of them.
But one thing stood out to me. The script was not too far off the beaten path. Some of the girls seemed nonplussed, all the mothers were mortified and the studio audience feigned shock and indignation.
As always, load the ladies on stage, force them to confront their self-destructive behavior, and, if you are able to make them look stupid enough (and their parents overly naive), television ratings will follow.
One question: where are the boys?
Now, forgive me for donning the naive hat myself for a qucik second. Yes, I have heard all the arguments that state that society has conferred the duty of being the gatekeepers of sexual morality at the feet of the Softer sex. Still, until we begin to confront the issue in our boys and young men, it will always be a problem.
The high-five culture has to stop. Promiscuity in boys should not be celebrated or, even worse, ignored. When do we start reminding our boys to treat women like rubies? I propose you put the boys up on stage, and show them the insecurity and devastation their actions cause, and superimpose the images of the girls they treat shabbily with pictures of their mothers and sisters. Then, tell the studio audience to look at them with the same type of uncomprehending shame.
Till then, these shock shows will be blips on the radar, and the problem continues: we are raising boys who are not learning how to esteem women.
I want to give a quick shout-out to Rick Parker, fellow Tarheel and principal at East Mecklenburg High School in Charlotte, NC. Mr Parker was kind enough to take the time to meet with me, even with last minute schedule changes on my part.
I have a couple of his wards in my youth group, and is the first principal I have ever known to be loved by all the kids in the group. It's always nice to have your local principal pledge support.
I look forward to getting involved in the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. It is a blessing to share boundaries with a high school in this biz.
This is from my dear friend Pam. I admit she is loony, but she does have a heart made of gold, and because this cause is important to her, it is important to me.
Dear friends and family:
Most of you know that I don't normally send out solicitations, and I apologize if you've made it onto this list and would rather not be there.
Unfortunately, this is one that is near and dear to my heart. One of those that is closest to me is living with this disease and I have seen first-hand what it can do.
Fortunately, Carey is in remission - her ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY is TODAY!! - but for those with Myelogenous Leukemia, remission means a pill every day, not a cure. A chemo pill. With some pretty nasty side effects. Still, the side effects are better than the alternative, which is not surviving the diagnosis.
Last year, our team raised over $2000 for this cause. I am hoping that this year, we can shatter that record and help even more people fight this disease. I'm raising money for a very important cause: finding better treatments and cures for blood cancers so patients can live better, longer lives through The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Light The Night Walk. I'm asking you to help by making a contribution! Please use the link in this email to donate online quickly & securely. You will receive an email confirmation of your donation as soon as it is made. I thank you in advance for your support which will make a difference in the lives of thousands of patients battling blood cancers.
We've got some really exciting news and we want you to be the first to know! Soon, you’ll be able to use YouVersion in a whole new way...
Introducing YouVersion Live!
Beginning in October, you'll be able to interact with live events on your mobile device using YouVersion Live.
During church services, conferences, Bible studies, small groups, and more, you can:
Follow along with message outlines and take notes
Read related Bible verses and click through to the expanded passage
Vote on a poll and see the results live
Respond to questions anonymously
Request prayer
Take it all home with you on your phone
Anyone with a web-enabled mobile phone will be able to take part, along with iPhone, BlackBerry, and Android users. And if you’ve got a laptop or computer with an internet connection nearby, you’ll be able to join in too.
YouVersion Live gives you a simple, free way to participate, contribute, and get involved in the conversation.
In this article retrieved from Yahoo! Hotjobs, Maria Hanson details tricks that employers are using in an ever-tight job market. There was an interesting point about watching the candidates eat, and how one company passed on a candidate based on the way he cut his meat.
On the surface, nothing new here. Employers do go to extreme lengths to ensure they invest the right type of human capital. They go to FaceBook, Myspace and Twitter. Meat cutting was bound to be the next frontier.
Of course, a standardized chart of demerits is in order. Here's one that churches can use:
Different sock color: 3 demerits (color blindness won't fly in ministry).
Shirt unbuttoned to navel with unsightly chest hair: 5 demerits (denotes habitual errors in judgment)
Shirt unbuttoned to navel without unsightly chest hair: 7 demerits (no chest hair? Then why are you doing it?).
Lack of knowledge of John 3:16: PEIN***
Any use of the terms "outside-the-box," "donuts" or "urban": 10 demerits. (if "urban" is used 3 or more times, PEIN; candidate has been watching too much BET).
Plays with light switch when left alone: 5 demerits. (I refuse to budge on this, so don't ask).
Long, dangling Jesus faux bling hanging from neck: PEIN
Saying the word "bling" at any point during the interview: 30 demerits. (Hip-hop auditions are across town, doofus).
Sir Mix-a-Lot ringtone: 30 demerits and immediate prayer
Maranatha Singers ringtone: PEIN. (Same as bringing Jesus, in person, to the interview. Simply too good to be true).
Gang signs shown by reflex: 0 demerits (what? For all I know, you'll blame me for the non-offer, and then I get hunted. Figure it out).
Cutting meat in the wrong fashion: 10 demerits plus counseling by elder board on the off chance you are hired (look, I know this is supposed to be really bad, but I figure it could be much worse).
Lewd comments: PEIN (and call 911).
I am sure the meat cutting can be applied to a host of different situations. Now, instead of scouting games, I could simply trail an opposing coach secretly to watch him/her eat at his favorite steak house for insight into his/her game plan. Or, predict how my wife is feeling by how she wields a fork and knife... wait a second... scratch that. Why give her a knife?
Now, without getting into the meat of the article, it was clear to me that this is not something I am called to do. I am one of those weirdos that buy into conserving the planet, but living with an animal that can eat me -- in order to save it -- is just not something I can wrap my mind around.
I can do puppies... may even bunny rabbits. I can see myself going wild and living with teddy bears. But lions, cheetahs, tigers and the like... well...
Seriously, the headlines would be shameless: youth pastor/coach decides to live with lions to save them... and does so till the end.
Modern day lion-whisperer gets inside lion's head (and eventually, its stomach).
Youth worker gives his all to furry friendly felines he adored.
Humans show a unique aptitude for being able to sacrifice for the things we care about. We'll go to unique lengths to ensure we meet the ethical standards we place for ourselves. It defines are humanity.
This is why missions are extremely important. Old-school methods in a fast-moving world. Humans loving humans will never grow old, and even the Lord showed how important social responsibility is. Sometimes, the neediest people are not across the globe; they can be in the house down the street.
This is an interesting write-up on the proliferation of text abbreviation in everyday life. We've all seen the phone commercials that make light of the phenomenon, usually with an unhip parent, and laughed.
Truth is, every generation seems to develop a unique means of conveying thoughts. Mobile technology provides an easy platform in ours. All of a sudden, shorter seems to better... and I cannot say that it is a bad thing. Now, every major news network has a "text chat" feature for their top shows, presidential candidates tweet, you can choose your American Idol with a few keystrokes and even bully high school kids in under 160 characters.
Now, I'd love to claim that I have been down with this form of mobile communication, but I admit that I generally avoided it. After all, I reasoned, it is much easier to just call than start banging away on a minute keypad that probably doesn't have a QWERTY display anyway.
Ever since I started blogging on my BlackBerry, I have gravitated towards texting a bit more myself, and have discovered it is a very effective means of keeping in touch with my wards. Many have told me if they had to pick between a million minutes or an unlimited texting plan, they'd pick the latter without hesitation.
Texting used to be the exclusive plaything of teens, but that isn't the case anymore. Churches even run services based of text interactions, and it ain't only aimed at youth. Simply put, if it something your children or youth are into (and, if they have a cell phone, they most likely are), it is something parents and youth workers should understand, if not embrace. Do you know what "sexting" is? I bet my bottom dollar that your kids do.
In any case, ETATILT (enjoy the article that I linked to). Yeah, I made that up. And?
So many of my christian brothers and sisters own iPhones. Anyone who casually reads this blog knows that I feel real christians use BlackBerry devices... but I feel that I must soften my stance a bit. Now, I simply see iPhones users as misguided. It will still be a struggle to fellowship with them, but someone's got to do it. Especially since LifeChurch has created additional strife by streaming services to iPhones, as in iPhones only (for now, I hope).
Ron is one of these misguided people. Still, if anyone can use his iPhone as a ministry tool, it's Ron. And despite my misgivings, I caught myself enjoying an article about another iPhone bible. As if there not enough compelling reasons as to why the iPhone can be a powerful ministry companion.
It goes to show: the gospel can be propagated. Even on the iPhone. I still will throw rocks at Ron and BJ.
Twitter/FaceBook buddy Pastor Ben Cotten always finds these gems...
Wow. I guess High Point is a melting pot. At least, as far as furniture is concerned.
One somewhat unrelated thought was the fact that one thing that does surely help one overcome prejudice (or at least shields it for a season) is money. Don't read too much into my ramblings here... this really has nothing to do with the ad. However, I do believe that nothing strips away the facade of tolerance than some hard times.
Ah... let us bask in the musical stylings of the crew at the The Red House...
I am not big on waiting. I was a preemie at birth, and ever since then, patience has never been my strong suit.
That is why this simple, short blog post from Amanda Sims speaks to me. It's also a reason she has made my "People I dislike..." shortlist. Stay tuned for that...
It's the beautiful game... and I love to coach it.
Growing up, my dad couldn't wield the pigskin, or dribble a basketball, and he was probably more acquainted with cricket than baseball... but he knew how to play football -- real football. My earliest memories consist of him showing me the basics outside our home in Minnesota.
People don't understand the immense honor and privilege it is to have the opportunity to coach and teach young people. Coaching youth sports is the ultimate elixir; it makes you a better person.
You see both sides of the coin. When you do right, there is no losing. You might come up on the wrong side of a result, but there are a million potential victories in every loss. Sometimes, it's hard to find them... but that's why finding them is so much sweeter.
I thought playing the game was great. After I got hurt, I missed the action. To this day, I can't walk by a set of goals without a sense of hunger.
But nothing compares to the look of a 12 yr-old who looks up at you with complete trust. In that instant, you are humbled by the sheer weight of the situation. Hey Coach: you are it. In that space of time, practice or game, you are influencing a young person's life. You are teaching them. And, if you are blessed enough to recognize the opportunity, you also teach yourself.
You see, long after the whistle, long after the cupcakes and ice cream, it is so much more than the leather sphere, boots and gloves. It's about fellowship, family and sharing love for the beautiful game.
Against the background of speeding vehicles, it is downright heavenly.
Where am I? On I-485, the branching interstate that flanks the parent I-85 in Charlotte. I had just experienced a tire blowing out, and it wasn't fun.
I was (still am, hopefully) headed to watch a soccer game with my U-13 Girls team as the first leg of an evening of practice and team-building. So, naturally, I am disappointed sitting here waiting for AAA to get here and tow me to a tire shop.
In any case, now that my pulse has returned to normal, I feel somewhat let down. When I heard the pop, I had the weird sensation that someone had shot at me.
I figured I had to be making mighty moves for the kingdom, and someone was trying to take me out. Or, with the BET Awards at hand, someone had mistaken me for a musician driving a Honda and decided to take that diss record I made a decade ago personal. Or, a local youth pastor warning me about innocently poaching some of his youth.
Or, it could be a blown tire.
In any case, I am safe, and grateful for the prayer tweets coming in (along with the suggestions to look for stale fries and lemon-crusted squirrel from Pam and Karen).
Plus, I finally have tan lines, and that, my friends, is no small feat.
Two young men, friends upon a wayward path, decided to steal a sheep. Unfortunately for them, they were caught and sent before the elders of the clan.
Justice was swift and brutal.
That evening, before the entire village, the two men were tied up, set on their knees, and each had the initials "ST" branded on their respective foreheads, denoting Sheep Thief. For the rest of their lives, there would be a permanent reminder of their transgression for the whole world to see, and a deterrent to other would-be criminals.
The one youth became despondent. He moved to the edge of the town and morphed into a grumpy recluse noted for his mean disposition. He lived out the rest of his years in shame and self-imposed solitude.
The second boy was different. After a brief period of shame and regret, he slowly began to dedicate his life to serving others. There wasn't a person in need he didn't try to help; he became renown for his kind works and his Godly ways. Eventually, he was looked upon as an example of virtuous living, and people strove to be in his company.
One day, when the second was an old man, a visitor to the land asked his host what the ST on the man's forehead stood for.
"Don't really remember," said his host, scratching his head, " but I am fairly positive it means "'Saint'."
This story isn't mine, and I wish I knew the author to ask forgiveness for butchering it, but it has always resonated with me.
Redemption takes time, but it can and does happen. The concept of having the slate cleaned is priceless. And every believer knows we deal with a salvation that is freely given and unearned. I am not trying to discount the consequences attached to our actions, but there is something inherently fascinating about the Good News.
I have been blogging primarily on my BlackBerry of recent. Usually, I generally split time blogging 50-50 on my laptop and BB. Now, my laptop is crippled by the silliest problem.
I am missing a key on my laptop. Not the Q. Not an X. I am missing the alpha dog of vowels: A. It broke off.
Cue Joni Mitchell: Don't it always seem to go... that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone...
I never knew how valuable A really was till this incident. Now, I can't type love notes to my wife (that's my story and I'm sticking to it). My left pinky is numb from banging on the broken nub.
I tried gorilla glue. Without dwelling on specifics, let me just point out that this was not my best moment. I tried jamming the key into place, and reaffirmed the fact that brute strength is not a good substitute for delicate know-how.
All in all, it seems I need a new keyboard... and some basic research proved it was not as expensive as I would have thought.
Life is so full of stories like this. Job was a guy who had it all, and then lost everything. And then some.
The moral of the story is that we must value every second with the gifts we have.
In the mean time, I am looking for a list of words that denote anger and disappointment, but don't have the letter 'A' in them.
Apparently, four states will not be allowing newly minted teenage drivers an opportunity to express relief at passing driving test. No more smiling in driver license photos.
The culprit is facial recognition software. It seems that smiling, the most natural of human emotive processes, throws it off.
Now, if anything, this will make happier criminals. Wanna scam a casino? Smile. Trick the pesky computers.
I am in a grumpy mood. My daughter said my tummy is squishy, my kid brother called me old, my back hurts, some NC schools have decided that class rank promotes "unnatural" competition, and now, I may soon have to pose like a pre-fight Mike Tyson or a Detroit Lions fan at the local DMV.
What is this world coming too?
Off to read FaceBook status updates. Those always make me laugh.
When you think of Joseph, what springs to mind? Coat of Many Colors? The hateful brethren? Famine?
How about stubborn dude?
Joseph's story is one that highlights perseverance of spirit. You can touch upon any number of important character traits worth embodying in his life, but the stubbornness is something that may not be as evident to begin with.
We know about his dreams, about his betrayal, rise and second betrayal. What was it that made him tick? I think he was stubborn.
This guy was blessed with the gift of foreseeing the future. When he does display his gift, he barely misses getting killed and is sold off into slavery by his siblings.
Plenty of justification to be angry. What does Joseph do? He becomes the best slave in the household, eventually coming his master's caretaker. Now, at this point, we could probably imagine a Ben-hur-ish like ending with master adopting Joseph and everybody swaying to the cued music.
Except it went bad. Very bad. Joseph decided to be honorable and resisted the romantic overtures of his master's wife. When the scorned woman accused him of attempted rape, he got thrown in the slammer.
One thing I am certain of is that prison life, in those times, was not easy. I suspect concepts like prisoners rights and cruel punishments didn't get a lot of press in those days. So, I think most people would have given Joe a pass if he had decided to wallow in anger and self-pity. But he didn't.
He packed up all the lemons and made some award-winning juice. Soon, he was running the prison. And the rest of the story is well known; he eventually became governor of the entire land, and was used by God to save the country. And his brothers, who sold him away.
Joseph stubbornly waited on the promise. He kept getting stuff thrown in his face, but he excelled anyway. He was a rock head. He glorified God in spite of his circumstance.
In this life, and particularly this economy, we all have received (or are receiving) tough blows. I think we all feel the justification to cut corners and to avoid doing the right thing... albeit temporarily. We can all take refuge in the fact that it will all end up for His glory.
I really, really dislike Karen Byrne, and the reasons are almost too many to list. I will do my best. It is my duty.
- I know it is hard to believe, but Karen is the nicest person I know. She really is an angel. This bothers me. I have tried VERY hard to find a mean bone in her, and can't find one. Why? This annoys me.
- She takes delight in being a true witness. No hidden hanky-panky for her; she is sold out in her beliefs, and wears her faith without shame.
- When you ask Karen a question, she doesn't try to get overly philosophical; she doesn't force flowery language. She simply takes you back to the Bible. She forces and inspires me to do the same. Whatever.
- Even when we argue (often, and usually her fault) on Twitter and during life group, she gets biblical. Once, instead of telling me to shut up, she used a bible verse. Seriously? How do you counter that? I don't like people who are so clearly smarter than me.
- My wife likes her, making me a minority in my own home as well as the cyber-world. No explanation needed.
- When you ask her tough questions, you know what Byrnie does? You guessed right... she takes it to the scripture. She makes you think. What is your outlook on life, Byrnie?There is always someone who needs something. Open your eyes, see their need and meet it. In two sentences, she forces me to confront my own selfishness. I want to fight her.
What is your favorite verse, B?My favorite verse lately is Isaiah 43:1 (love the whole chapter). But now, this is what the Lord says-- he who created you, o Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel; "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine." I think deep down we all have a desire to belong - to know that we fit in somewhere. This verse reminds me that I belong to the Father. And, there's something beautiful when someone you love calls you by name.
Why do you believe in God, Karen?There is evidence of God all around us, if we just look for it. Creation screams of the existence of a Creator. The way the universe is laid out cannot be by chance. I can't watch a child sleep or a baby cry or birds build a nest or a lion prowling for dinner without thinking that the beauty in those things must come from God. I also know I am different since having started a relationship with him through his Son, who died because I broke God's heart.
Seriously... this is what she throws at you, forcing you to contemplate stuff. A-L-L the T-I-M-E.
- She lives in Michigan. And doesn't complain about the weather, further making me analyze my own whining.
- She writes one of the bestblogs I have ever had the privilege of reading.
I could go on and on, and use up bandwith explaining why she is on my dislike list. Suffice to say that I absolutely refuse to admit that she is blessing in our lives, a precious friend, and someone I have an immense amount of respect for.
No, I won't say any of that. I dislike her. A lot.
Not only does this blog post give numerous verses for self-evaluation and citizenship, it starts off with a gentle reminder that every believer must ensure that it is something we subscribe to within ourselves first.
If you don't subscribe to KB's blog, you should... more reasons for this on Monday...
Years ago, when the wife and I were still a-courtin' I decided to stop putting off the unthinkable and introduce her to my siblings.
Some background here: my brothers are insane. Not your run-of-the-mill crazy; I mean literally "gone." I had hoped that we could somehow get married and live without meeting them, but that, I was told, would be somewhat uncouth. Plus, I figured that we would be short three attendants at our future wedding.
So, I swallowed my pride, prayed and brought her home.
As we walked into the house, I was blindsided by a tackle from my right side. Two others phantoms jumped on us, and in and instant, there was a four-man free-for-all scrum on the floor of my parents house.
Babetta looked on in abject horror.
Afterwards, when my mother had dispersed the impromptu wrestling sessions with a trusty frying pan, I tried to explain to my future wife how wrestling was normal. She did not understand how we greeted each other with kidney shots. I explained that if I walked in and hugged my brothers, they would think I was dying.
She promised, right there and then, to never have kids with me.
Eight years and two (plus) kids later, it is clear that my charm won the day, but I look back at those days and laugh.
Babetta wearily looked at my brother's bride, Narissa, and sighed. "Shameless."
In the dressing room, while changing back into street clothes, Narissa's brother-in-law walked in to say bye. What he said had a lasting impact on all of us.
"It is great to see brothers who loved each other the way you guys do. Absolutely great. Never lose that."
We were humbled.
Outwardly, we vocalized about wanting to know what gave him that idea so that we could promptly stop doing whatever it was, but we were humbled.
My brothers are always there... just a phone call away. Since they will never read this blog, I freely admit that they are a significant part of my life. Anyone who messes with my lil brothers messes with me. That goes for all of us. In our culture, you learn to cherish your brothers.
After he left the room, we paused for a bit. And then, we wrestled some more.
Thank God for brothers. They help save a lot on punching bags.
I made a life changing discovery recently... one that I simply must share.
While rifling through some kitchen stuff, I came across a weird circular cutting tool. Fascinated, I resisted the urge to throw it like a frisbee and asked the missus what it was.
She was unimpressed. "It's an apple corer."
"Really? How do you use it?" I asked.
"To core apples. You hold it like this..." she monotoned as she showed me how to use the device.
People, I had found yet another reason for living. You're telling me that there is a device out there that can remove the core while slicing the good stuff into perfect sections? My life was now complete.
Unfortunately, we had a newly-bought bag of apples in the refrigerator. I snuck away to play with my new toy.
About twelve apples later, while suffering from apple poisoning brought on from inexplicable over-indulgence and nursing wrists sore from corer-exertion, I looked back on all that I had gained from the exercise with glee. I made a solemn vow to never eat an uncored apple ever again. I also toyed with the idea of sharing my discovery with the masses, and being considered a corer pioneer on Twitter.
I asked the wifey how we had lived without the life-saving device. She was nonplussed, and shockingly, did not share my elation.
"We have always had it. In fact we have more than one."
What?
At first, I painfully recalled each apple that I had consumed over the course of eight years. Uncored. I mourned the lost opportunities. But then, another angle began to show itself. How many talents and opportunities have been hidden to me? How many times have I missed an opportunity to serve (or ignored it) because I didn't think I had the tools to be a servant?
On the flip side, have I become stronger in some aspects because I was forced to be creative in the absence of a tool or gift that did not manifest till later in life?
All in all, I refuse to go through life any longer without coring knives, and I am grateful for the perpetual gifting idea for family and friends.
Apparently, a young man who planned to attend prom with his girlfriend at her school (they attended different schools) was told by his own school that he would face disciplinary action if he did indeed attend. The problem started when the boy went to get his principal's signature (which I assume is a pre-requisite of the girlfriend's school for visiting students).
The boy's school, which is described in the article as a "fundamental" school, frowns on rock music, and details its official misgivings in the school handbook.
Without being critical of the school or unsympathetic to the boy, my concern is that the body of Christ needs to be particularly careful of branding artistic concepts as ungodly or unsuitable. To be overly simplistic, what about Christian rock? Bad? I don't mean to imply that the prom is gonna invite Jars of Clay to perform, but still...
I think there is a fine line: does it glorify God or not?
I have seen christian schools that do have proms, and they seemed like decent affairs. They may have been considered more rigid than the average "secular" event, but were clearly enjoyed and looked forward to.
Legislating teen morality can be tough business. While I do believe that it is possible to raise kids with healthy social attitudes in a spiritual atmosphere, I will shy away from saying that prom should be a platform on which such battles should be fought.
Interesting blurb about online confessions. Apparently, it is causing some division in that particular denomination.
The concept of online church is catching on, but some figure that formal confessions should not be performed via email, as it alters the significant portion of confession: the physical presence of a priest.
It details the story of a unique homeless couple were shown no-strings-attached love by their congregation, Grace Church, who helped them plan a wedding and honeymoon.
In a day where the term "nice church" tends to evoke opulence of physical structure, it is great to hear of stories like this.
10:00
Unknown
I am a tough guy.
I made a life changing discovery recently... one that I simply must share.
