By the time Marilyn and I made the long drive from Tampa to Atlanta in January 2006 for my interview with Peachtree City UMC, an offer from Trinity UMC- Waycross was already on the table. Our plan was to do the interview, then drive back through Waycross and attend worship so Marilyn could get a feel for the place. I was excited about meeting the folks at PCUMC, because it was a large church and because I had already developed a good relationship with a couple of staff members through e-mails and instant messages. In the interview itself it became quite obvious that the parents on the search committee were obsessed with my age rather than my experience. I left feeling very good about the interview and very bad about my chances of being offered the position. I was right.
We pulled into Trinity UMC just a short time before the start of worship, and we were greeted warmly. One couple told us that they had moved to Waycross from Miami and that while it was quite a change, they loved it. We would discover later that there was more to their story than we were hearing at the time. We enjoyed worshiping with the TUMC family, but we also understood how different this church was from what were accustomed to at this point in our lives. The service was beyond traditional. It was quite liturgical; the order of worship was printed in the bulletin and followed to the letter each week, complete with creed and doxology. The music was very much old school hymns with organ. There was no contemporary service. And the preaching was quite dry. But the people were wonderful, and the youth surrounded us after the service and made us feel quite loved. In fact, one of the 6th grade girls told us that we had to accept the position, because the other guy they had considered was "just awful!" Plus she wanted to meet Will... :)
After much prayer and debate, I took the position as Director of Student Ministries at Trinity UMC- Waycross, with plans to start on February 15th. This was not going to be easy. I would move up and live in a tiny house (The Skittles House- more on that later) that the church owned until Marilyn and Will moved up in July, after school was out and the lease on our apartment was up. I would be myself until then. I would have to learn the ins and outs of a new church, a new city and lots of new families. I was breaking one of my own personal rules right from the beginning. I have always asked myself this question: If I didn't work for this church, would I attend it? I knew going in that in this case the answer was probably no. But still...there was something about the place that had captured part of my heart, and I was really looking forward to doing youth ministry in a town with one high school and two middle schools. I would be great to be in a place where the entire community gathered every Friday night for the high school football game at a stadium located not on campus, but in the center of town (Go Gators!). I was very excited about working with Associate Pastor David White, who was clearly the heart of the church's ministry. I felt like God was ready to do big things at TUMC, and that He had called me to come join Him there. Of course, as is always true with God's plans, He knew what the next year had is store for me- but I was clueless. It was going to be a wild ride that would start with a gigantic hurdle and end with a thud. But in between there were some amazing stories of ministry. All of that is still to come...
Because of Jesus,
Marilyn and I flew in to Tampa from Chicago late one night in August of 2001 with very mixed feelings about the next day's interviews with Wesley Memorial UMC. On one hand, we were excited about the possibilities of a new ministry, a new church home and being back in Florida. On the other hand, we had very little idea what to expect from the church. A phone interview had revealed some issues and some promise, but other than that we knew very little. The trip got off to a slow start when no one was at the airport to pick us up, but after a quick phone call that was taken care of. Senior Pastor Jerry Sweat drove us to our hotel, a Doubletree overlooking beautiful Tampa Bay. He would pick us up the next morning and take us to the church for a day of interviews and meeting people. It was on.
Jerry was tied up the next morning, but he sent Robyn Smith to pick us up. Robyn was a young woman who volunteered with the youth program (along with her husband Ed), and they would become very special to us over the coming years. I didn't really know much about Tampa. I knew it had a bay, had the Bucs and the Devil Rays, and was a fairly large city. The area our hotel was in was beautiful and very modern- even a little touristy. As we drove the very strange route to the church (Tampa roads, we would learn, were designed by a maze builder. They did not want you to ever find your way!) we started down a road lined with run-down strip shopping centers, old buildings and apartment complexes. Many of the names were Hispanic. Robyn informed us we were arriving at the church, and as we pulled into the left turn lane my heart sank. There sat WMUMC across a grass field- probably 100 yards from the road. It was very unimpressive. It looked old and a bit beat up. It was much smaller than any church I had ever served. I found myself looking at Marilyn and immediately judging this book by it's cover. Expectations were quickly lowered.
We were warmly greeted as arrived inside the building. While my initial judgement of the facility as a whole had been fair, the worship space was gorgeous. And as we began the interview process and meeting people, I began to feel much more at ease. Once the interview process began, I felt like they were testing my endurance as much as they were curious about my faith and my philosophies. Group after group just kept arriving at the church to meet with me, in addition to the lunch "grilling" at Red Lobster. I kept reminding myself how badly they had just been burned by a couple of past staff members and tried to cut them some slack. But still- this was intense!
Right after school let out I met with a group of the students involved in the ministry. They seemed hesitant to ask questions until one of the older youth, Kyle Bell, asked me a very unusual question: "How do you feel about dating?" I was a bit confused, but managed a witty reply: "I'm not sure. After all, we just met!" It turned out that the previous regime had spent a great deal of time discouraging the kids from hanging out with the opposite sex. They even made them sit on opposite sides of the bus on trips. I assured them that would not be my policy. After that, the questions started flying. I really liked the students I met and felt like we connected.
All in all I thought the day went well. George Woods, the head of the personnel committee, was also the marketing director for the Bucs, and he gave us Bucs hats to wear home. Marilyn and I had a lot to think and pray about. There were issues, just as there are at every church. Due to a snafu with keys, we had still not seen the inside of the house we would live in. There were questions. We returned to Chicago to see what God had to say to us, and discovered we that we felt called to Tampa. We were moving back to Florida. But not just yet...
Because of Jesus,
As I continued my search for a new church home in the summer of 2001 I was invited to interview at a very large United Methodist Church in Baton Rouge, LA. I had participated in a very spirited and lengthy telephone interview with their search committee, and my interest had been piqued. I had learned it was a nearly 6000 member church, with a thriving youth ministry. The youth had their own building with a gym and multiple classrooms. A Youth Ministry Team was already in place. The Senior Pastor seemed to be a solid leader and preacher. I chatted a bit with the man I would be following in the position, and he had glowing things to say about the church. And they had a house for us. After much prayer and discussion with Marilyn about the location, we agreed I should fly down and take a look.
At that stage of my youth ministry career, I was pretty much done with "candidating" at churches. I had enough confidence and experience to feel like I was interviewing the church, not the other way around. I had my eyes wide open for traps or situations that seemed destined to be trouble. My last two memories at this point were The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named in Kissimmee and a church where I didn't fit at all in Hinsdale. I was excited to be in Baton Rouge, but I was cautious.
The Spring and Summer of 2001 found me exploring many different possibilities for life after the Union Church of Hinsdale. Marilyn and I were seeking a new ministry, and our preference was to head back to Florida. My resume had been online for quite a while by then, but I had deflected most of the offers for interviews up until that point. Over those next few months I would spend lots of time on the computer and the phone, sorting through the churches who had an interest in me. After prayerful consideration (and Marilyn telling me, once again, that we were not going to Las Vegas or Texas!) I began to set up a few interviews. When it comes to employment, trying to deal with churches can be frustrating. Witness the following accounts...
One of the first places that flew me in for a weekend was a United Methodist Church on Florida's Space Coast. It was a fairly large church with a very active student ministry in need of a leader. I had a great interview with their search committee, and then a dinner with the Senior Pastor. I was very excited about the possibilities. I then spent an evening with some of the student leaders of the group. We had a great dinner together, and afterwards a number of those youth came to me and told me that of all of the candidates they had met so far, the felt I was the best fit. The whole weekend seemed like a huge success. I returned home to find my in-box full of encouraging e-mails from staff and students telling how much they hoped I would be coming back to Titusville to join them. And then I never heard from anyone at that church ever again. It was like the interview never happened. I called the pastor later on and was only told the position had been filled. I found out later they had decided to go with a specific model of ministry and hired someone who had been trained in that method. Ouch.
The weirdness was only beginning. Another UMC in Florida called and did an extensive phone interview. They were very positive and liked what they heard from me. We planned for me to fly down and spend a weekend. In the meantime, I heard from some old friends from FUMC-K who had moved and attended the church. They too were very excited. On the evening before I was to fly to Orlando on a Friday, they called to tell me not to come. The position had been filled by their current Assistant Youth Pastor. I have never quite figured out why they didn't know that before they bought me a plane ticket. I flew down anyway to visit my parents.
Yet another UMC, this one in southwest Florida (We wanted to come back to FL, but clearly God was trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening!) flew me in for an interview with the church staff, the search committee and some of the youth & parents- all in one evening. I knew immediately this place was different. The Associate Pastor was clearly the one in charge. The Senior Pastor didn't seem to have much going on. The student ministry was fairy active, but it had one very serious drawback. Someone had decided to run a youth-friendly nightclub out of their youth building on weekends. They had been doing it for about 6 months at the time I interviewed. They were drawing in almost no one from outside of the church, and the entire student ministry budget was tied up in the enterprise. There was also almost no money to pay a youth pastor. I was not looking for anything near what I was making in Hinsdale, but this would have taken me back to a 1993 pay level. It was another no-go, but at least this time I got to be the one saying no!
God still was opening doors for me, and I continued to walk through them. The final two churches I would interview with before accepting a new position in August of 2001 were both quite interesting in their own ways. Wednesday I will tell you about my weekend in Baton Rouge, LA, where nothing- and I do mean nothing- was as it seems. Tomorrow the Jesus Revolution continues!
Because of Jesus,
As I mentioned on Wednesday, in March of 2000 Marilyn and Will were still at my parent's house in Leesburg for about a week after I left for Hinsdale, IL. While I was getting moved in, they were swimming, playing and spending lots of time at Walt Disney World. It was difficult for me to work up much sympathy for them. I really should have known better...
Since Will's birth in July of 1995, there had seldom been a week when my his Gigi and Pawpaw didn't make the drive to Kissimmee to spend a day with him. More often than not, those days included time at WDW (pictures are of my Dad and Will at WDW and blowing out the candles on the birthday cake for Jesus we used to do every Christmas Day). Well before he could walk, they would take him to the parks and just hang out. They met the characters, found the best places for him to take naps and exposed him to the wonders of WDW. As he got older and began to have a better understanding of the place, he had specific things he loved to see and do (not always your normal stuff by the way) and they would make certain he got to do it all. He was there so often that the costumed characters would recognize him and pay him special attention. Over the last year or so when Will was in the pre-school at FUMC-K, they would generally come on Tuesday. It became a pattern, and one that Will loved.
In March of 2000 we loaded up the moving truck and headed for Chicagoland and the Union Church of Hinsdale. The early indications from UC had been all we could have hoped for and more. They had secured us a house (above) in the neighboring village of Clarendon Hills that we liked very much. The basement of the house was as big as our entire house in High Point, and it was in a great community within walking distance of the elementary school. Will would enter kindergarten in August, so the school was very important to us. It was rated one of the top school districts in the country. In addition to the house, they had paid for the movers and had also given us money with which to purchase new furniture. Our new master bedroom and living room were loaded on the truck without ever being unpacked. This was definitely a new beginning.
The people of UC had also given me reason to expect great things. David Knecht (head of the Search Committee) had remained in close contact with us throughout the months preceding the move. Others from the committee and church staff had called to offer their help and support. The Senior Pastor at UC, Dick Nye, had called me at the office one day identifying himself to our secretary as Martin Luther. She buzzed me and told me Martin Luther was on the phone. Dick and I had a good laugh about that one. It was clear to Marilyn and I that we were taking a major step up from The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named, and there was great joy in our hearts because of that. To top it all off, I would be arriving just a few weeks before the previously scheduled Work Tour 2000, a senior high mission trip to Dungannon, VA. I would be able to jump right in and spend some serious time with my new students over Spring Break. I was so psyched...
After the moving truck hit the road we spent the night at my parent's home in Leesburg, FL. I would leave and drive our car up the over the next few days, meeting the movers in Clarendon Hills three days after they left. Marilyn and Will would stay with Gigi and Pawpaw (as Will called them) a few days and then fly up after I had the furniture moved in. I took a leisurely drive up, spending nights in Nashville and in northern Indiana before reaching my destination.
It was so odd to be in a place and not know where anything was. Even getting from the house to the church required asking for directions, and it was only 5 miles. Imagine my surprise when I discovered there were no 7-11 stores. I spent most of the time setting up the house, but I did go in and visit with the staff and check out my new office. I had serious "buyers remorse" while sitting in my tiny office, with no closet, no computer and none of my own stuff. The youth ministry books on the shelves had been cutting edge in 1980. The walls were barren. But all of that could be easily remedied. I was ready to go. I was ready to start "fixing" the student ministry. I was going to go to work and invite God to come along for the ride. Which is a really backwards way to do ministry...
The little bit of sadness I was experiencing in encountering all of the newness of Hinsdale would turn out to be NOTHING compared to what my family was going through back in Florida. That story will be told on Friday, and forget the tissues for this one. You'll need a roll of Bounty- the quicker picker upper! See you then.
Because of Jesus,
As it turned out, Marilyn and I didn't have long to talk or pray about moving to Kissimmee. We had only been back in High Point for a day when John Willis called and offered me the job as Director of Youth Ministries at the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee. I had known I was a finalist, but I was still surprised to get the job offer. I told John we would need a few days to pray and make our decision, and so we decided I would get back to him on Monday. It was a Wednesday night. A decision had to be made.
There were so many factors to weigh as we talked about what to do. I did feel God pulling me towards FUMC-K. I felt like they had a need and that the gifts God had given me would fit that need well. They would pay me more, and the house we would live in was much nicer that the one at Springfield. Actually, the people from Kissimmee kept apologizing about how small the house was- if they could have only seen what we had lived in the previous 8 years! (In keeping with tradition, the front door and the bathroom lined up perfectly!) We loved everyone we had met from FUMC-K, and were especially fond of John and Pat Willis. The church had wonderful resources for youth ministry, including a huge youth room and a $10,000 youth budget (the largest I ever had at SFM was $800). There were many reasons to go. There were reasons to stay as well. Our extended families were all in NC at the time, although my parents were planning a move to Florida in a couple of years. We loved the people of Springfield Friends Meeting, and they loved us. There was no real reason to leave. My grandfather's words just kept coming to us: "Don't mess with happy!" Sunday came, and we worshipped and led youth group and were still not settled on an answer. We laid in bed most of the night just talking and praying and asking God to lead us. And somehow, without any burning bushes or lightning bolts, by morning we knew. We were going to Kissimmee. We called John and gave him the news, asking for 60 days to say good-bye and get our affairs in order, and it was done. We had messed with happy.
Over those 60 days, as we were crazy busy with youth stuff at Springfield (see EVERYTHING!), we also became more and more clear that Jesus was leading us to Kissimmee. John kept sending us pictures of people (like the one at the top, featuring Kay Hill, an unknown, Brad Watson and Teresa Reep in the back, and Jill Souther, Erin Bay and Cyndi Reep in front; this is one of the actual pics John sent me) so we could learn names and faces; he sent me a list of the volunteer youth workers so I could begin contact with them, and I sent them a survey to complete. He called me looking for the name of a Billy Joel song (it was River of Dreams) that he wanted to use with the youth on a Sunday evening. We drove to Kissimmee once with Marilyn's Miata and left it, using that time to see what we needed for our new home. Then on April 14 (after our final week in NC including TWO Billy Joel concerts, one in Charlotte and one in Chapel Hill!) we drove our rented truck and my car down, surviving a torrential thunderstorm in Jacksonville along the way. We arrived to find 20 or more of our new friends ready to help us unload the truck. It was an amazing start to a new chapter in our lives. We were nervous and excited and ready to get started. A dinner and pool party were planned for us the following evening at the home of Dr. Jill Painter, one of the youth ministry volunteers. Everything seemed perfect. Who knew we were about to be told to "Get outta' town..."
Because of Jesus,
