A Sign of the Acpocalypse

My life has changed in a lot of ways over the past few years, but this is one change I never saw coming.  Certainly there was nothing in my history to suggest it was a possibility.  This was something I have loved since I was young, something that has always been a major part of my life.  There was a time when I seldom went a day without it.  But I have to face the facts.  I have to accept the truth.  After almost 52 years of life it has finally happened.  I am tired of pizza.

Long gone are my teenage years when I could sit down to a large, thin crust Pizza Hut pizza and eat the entire thing.  Gone are my days living in High Point, working at Springfield Friends Meeting and eating at Pizza Inn several times a week.  Gone are my days serving FUMC-Kissimmee, when parents bringing snack supper to youth group seemed to alternate between Domino's and Papa John's for our meal each week.  I remember the beach trips and ordering 15 pies from Little Ceasar's, meaning we actually got 30 pizzas.  I can barely remember my 18 months in Chicago- CHICAGO! - and falling in love with deep dish pizza from places like Giordano's and Home Run Pizza.  As Will grew older and pizza became his favorite food, I was right there with him, visiting buffets at Cici's and "The Hut" and giving a new meaning to "all-you-can-eat." Over the past few years we have eaten a lot of carryout pizza, and recently discovered the wonders of The Mellow Mushroom.  Life was good.  Pizza was good.

But over the past few months there has been a change.  When someone suggests pizza for dinner, I suggest something else.  Instead of me eating an entire large pizza, my family now orders just one.  Just last night, with Will gone to the Blink 182/My Chemical Romance concert, Marilyn suggested wings or pizza.  My immediate response was, "Not pizza."  I have to face the facts- my life-long love affair with pizza has come to an end.

Let me explain why this is more serious than you might think, why this is indeed a sign of the apocalypse in my life.  Even with everything I have been through these past years, even though I will never be a youth pastor again, I have always felt like one.  It's just ingrained in me, a real part of who I am.  And in my slightly demented mind, this is what I know to be true- you can't be a youth pastor and not like pizza.  It's just not possible.  I mean I am sure there are plenty of excellent youth workers who don't eat pizza, but in my mind it just seems so wrong- like living in Hawaii and not liking the ocean.  And maybe that's the point.  Maybe my change in appetite is God's way of finally moving me towards a more adult oriented ministry.  They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach; I'm sure God is fully aware of that truth! :)  Whatever the case, it makes me a little sad.  So many of my best memories are wrapped in cheese and tomato sauce.  And now it is time to let go.

I will still eat pizza with my family and friends- I just won't love it anymore.  I will always be a youth pastor- I just can't cling to it anymore.  I've got to keep seeking the will of God in my life, and I've got to keep moving forward.  Speaking of which- have I told you about my addiction to Chinese food?  Have a blessed day, my friends!

Because of Jesus,