I'm 6 Years Old Today!

On August 26th of 2009, just weeks after being inspired by the movie Julie & Julia, I began writing a blog. Writing had always been a passion of mine, and blogging seemed like a good way for me to get some discipline back in my very scattered life. My goal was to post something every day for a year- 365 posts - and then re-evaluate. Initially the purpose was to tell stories about my days in youth ministry, which had ended in 2007. And that is what I did- told stories, remembered people and places and celebrated the love of Jesus in my life. Today we arrive at the 6th birthday of this adventure with some 1900 posts having been shared here. I'm still telling stories and still reminding myself and my readers that life is all about Jesus. And along the way we've shared some remarkable things...

• We have relived the great adventure of my life, the 28 years I spent in student ministry. We traveled back to Centre Friends Meeting (1978-79), New Garden Friends Meeting (1979-1983), New England Yearly Meeting of Friends (1985-1986), Springfield Friends Meeting (1986-1994), First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee (1994-2000), Union Church of Hinsdale (200-2001), Wesley Memorial UMC of Tampa (2001-2005) and Trinity UMC of Waycross (2005-2007). Telling the old stories has been a blast; hearing from readers at every one of those stops along my journey has been simply the best! I've also been able to share a a little of the wisdom I accumulated over the years with a new generation of youth pastors, making new friends along the way. It's all been a blessing!
• You've been here to watch my family change and experience life. You've been a part of our birthdays, anniversaries, accomplishments and struggles. You encouraged and loved me when I could "Cross the Bridge" after my probation was terminated in 2014, and wept with us when Disney banned me a few months later. You were there when Will graduated high school, when I was diagnosed with diabetes and became 7 Toe Jones and when Marilyn's dad passed away. Most recently you shared with us as our beloved Conner Dog passed away and Will moved into his new college apartment. The pages of this blog have been filled with emotion. Thank you for being here for us.
• This has been a place to celebrate friendship, from my very oldest friends right up through the wonderful people I have met via Twitter. I have said here before that one of the reasons I have survived the pitfalls of life is that I have the best friends in the world. That has not changed.
• Many of you offered love and support when I shared the stories of my own fall from grace and the aftermath of that sin. There were people who advised against sharing those tales, saying some readers would be disappointed and others would run away. And that did happen. But the love, grace and mercy shown by those who stayed let me know that telling those stories was the right thing to do. Thanks to so many of you for showing me what it looks like to encounter Jesus with skin.
• You have grown with me. In the earliest days of this blog I was ecstatic to have 1200 page views in a month. In July of 2015 there were 21,000. Each of the 6 posts in my Beach Boys countdown got more than 1200 hits eventually. The excepts from my novel, Even Better Than Before, were widely read as was my series on the justice system. While still on the small end of big-time blogging, knowing more people are reading is exciting for me. And the number of folks tuning in every Tuesday to read my thoughts about the #NarrowRoad continues to astonish me- and to remind me that my ministry is a long way from being finished. Truth be known, I would love to preach again somewhere along the road...
• We have prayed together. You have prayed for me and I have prayed for you. We have lifted up those who are hurting, those who are sick and those who have suffered loss. We have celebrated great achievements and prayed for new parents and their children. The Saturday Shouts Outs have long been a place to share prayer requests, and that will continue as we move forward. Being bound together in Christ's love means being bound together in prayer. This blog has always attempted to celebrate that.
• You have allowed me to approach this blog the same way I have always tried to approach life and ministry- wholistically. That's not really a word, but it is a mindset. It means recognizing that all of life ties together. We tend to make boxes for God, boxes for family, boxes for culture and so forth, when in fact life is one giant box. And God made the box! Remember, "all good things come from God," not just the things we talk about in church! I've shared about music and movies, about politics and religion, about faith and doubt and about silly, ridiculous things- and you guys have accepted it all. Even my rants didn't cause too many of you to run away screaming! Most bloggers are niche writers, focusing on one major topic. My topic has been life, and my belief that all of life is about Jesus. Thank you for giving me that freedom for these 6 years.

We head into year #7 with my life in a bit of an uproar. Will is at college, Conner is gone and dear friends are battling insidious diseases. I am at a bit of a loss of what to with myself, and that includes what direction this blog will go next. But it will go forward simply because I need it to. I need the outlet, the discipline and to keep my creative juices flowing. So thank you for sticking with me. It's been a wild ride- and I have no reason to believe it won't keep getting wilder! Let's meet back here again tomorrow and start a new year together. And as a bit of a tease, how about this news- on Friday there will be a new inductee into my Hall of Fame for the first time in over a year. Curious? That's the idea. Always leave 'em wanting more, right?  Much love to you all!

Because of Jesus,

iPod Time Machine

Many people have written and talked about the power of music to transport us through time to particular eras, locations and emotions. Music is often fuel for the imagination and a balm for a wounded soul. It has great power. Recently there have been three specific instances where songs have popped up on my iPod and taken me back in time to wonderful moments and places in ways not even photographs could do. While a Hot Tub Time Machine sounds like more fun, until that day arrives you'll have to settle for these stories from my iPod Time Machine. Enjoy!

Although it is hard to believe now, once upon a time in days of yore (on a side note, when exactly was Yore?) I was in junior high school. The big social events of the early 1970s in Greensboro, NC were these school dances we called Sock Hops. The name was a leftover from the 1950s but was still valid for us. The dances were held in the gym, which had a beautiful hardwood floor, so no hard sole shoes were allowed. To make it simpler, NO shoes were allowed- thus the socks. Anyway, in those days we 7th and 8th graders seldom were involved in any sort of "dating," so probably 75% of the crowd at any given Hop was there alone and looking for dance partners. It was not unusual for an extrovert (and glutton for punishment!) like me to dance with a dozen different girls in one evening- and ask several more. Upbeat songs- what we referred to as "Fast Dances" - were easy. Everyone just got out on the floor and moved in ridiculous and embarrassing ways. Slow dances were where the rubber hit the road. When you were 13 years old, freshly pubescent and totally hormonal, being able to hug a dance partner and turn in slow circles for 3 minutes at a time was a gift from God. There were many great slow dance songs- I especially remember I'll Be There by the Jackson 5, Precious and Few by Climax and pretty much every song Bread ever recorded- but there was only one 45rpm that required advanced planning, great strategy and possibly even bribing whoever was running the record player that night so you would KNOW when they were going to play it. Only one song required an absolutely perfect dance partner. Only one song gave you 8 wonderful minutes of pure heaven, dancing with the girl of your (for that night) dreams. You had to ask in advance, and you had to ask first. On REALLY good nights they would play it twice. And to this day every time I hear The Beatles sing Hey Jude my mind rushes back to dancing in my socks some 40+ years ago. I remember the girls who shared a dance with me- and the ones who turned me down. The highs and the lows of those years come rushing back. And I remember how I wouldn't trade them for anything!

My iPod Time Machine has a playlist called Really? It's made up of songs that even I have a hard time believing are on the device. One of those songs is a real rarity in this day and age, a song seldom played on oldies stations and not used in any commercials. As teenagers, my best friend Steve and I used to spend a lot of nights walking the sandy shores of North Myrtle Beach, SC. Often we would lament our love lives and talk of hopes and dreams. But pretty much always we would sing. The songs varied and were often destined for obscurity- like Hurricane Smith's Oh Babe What Would You Say? - but we loved singing them. One of the classics from that era was a song about a wife and mother named Mary Jo who ran away from home to become a stripper. Steve and I knew every word, every pause and every vocal intonation to Tony Orlando & Dawn's minor hit Say Has Anybody Seen My Sweet Gypsy Rose? We would stroll along the deserted beach belting it out with great gusto. And on the rare occasions it pops up on my time machine I am transported to the sand, the waves, and the full moon over the ocean, taunting us because we were walking with each other and not the girls of our dreams. Such great memories- it's a trip I am always glad to take. And sorry Steve, but you can't deny it any longer- and you still know the words too, don't you?

Eventually (1977-78) Steve and I headed off to our freshman year of college at Lenoir Rhyne in Hickory, NC. We didn't room together but we were both in Morgan Dorm (The Teddy Bear Motel!) with lots of other guys. My tenure at LR only lasted the one year, but it seems much longer because of the great people and wonderful stories (I really should share a few of them soon) of that year. The group of guys who became my best buddies that year were quite a group of characters. We played intramurals together (our first team name was Jedi Knights, even though at the time Star Wars was so new we weren't sure if it was Jedi or Jet-Eye!), dined in the cafeteria together and just generally hung out whenever we could. Cafeteria food in those days was not all that good/ bad/hard to eat terrible, and quite often late at night we would be hungry again. For the most part (unless Charlie's grandma sent cash- but that's another story!) none of us ever had any money, so we were limited in our choices. Then one day, as if in a vision, we discovered that the local Pizza Hut had a deal for a 99 cent all-you-could-eat salad bar. It became a frequent stop for us even when no one could afford any pizza to go with it. We shared many adventures there during the following few months, and developed some traditions along the way. We would always attempt to talk the manager into giving us free pizza. I remember that working once, when the manager was on his last night and had been drinking. We feasted that night! We would always fill out a comment card asking the people who prepared the salad bar to "slice the cucumbers thinner." They never did. And each visit our buddy Danny Hines would stroll over the jukebox, drop in a quarter and play The Tams beach music classic Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy, often followed by the Jay Ferguson hit Thunder Island. Anytime my iPod Time Machine calls up either of those two songs I'm back in Hickory eating salad with The Stallions (our next intramural name) and complaining about the thickness of sliced cukes. Amazing.

So which songs send you soaring back in time? I'd love to hear from you today. Be blessed, have a great week and remember to "enjoy every sandwich." Make today count!

The Parable of the Grape

Jesus told some amazing stories. This is clearly not one of his...

Once there was a head. It was just a Head- it had no body, no arms, no legs, no feet. It was simply a Head. This Head felt left out in a world full of bodies. It was often sad and quite lonely. Day after day the Head would roll to work, roll to lunch and roll home. Each day the Head would look longingly at the woman who worked at the desk next to his, but he could never work up the courage to speak to her- because who would want to talk to a Head? Finally, late one night in the darkness of his bedroom, the Head could no longer contain his agony. He cried out, "God, please help me. I want to be different than the way you made me. I want to be ANYTHING but a Head!" God heard his cry, and when he looked in the mirror the next morning he was amazed to discover he was no longer just a Head. He had transformed into a Grape.

He was thrilled. "Now I can really do something with my life," he thought as he rolled out his front door, "because everyone loves grapes." He decided to roll to the house of the woman from work and ask her out. He bumped against her door until she answered. She opened the door, but seeing as how she had legs and he did not, she looked out over the top of the Grape and did not see him. She retreated into her home. The Grape, however, refused to be denied. He again rolled up against the door until she responded. This time she opened the door, and again seeing nothing, stepped out the door to look around. As she did, she stepped directly on our hero- and squashed him into a tiny grape flavored puddle. The End

So many times we spend our lives wishing God had made us differently. We want to be better looking. We wish our personalities were different. We want different gifts. Pro athletes long to be musicians; musicians want to actors; all of us desire to be significant. It is an endless cycle. We forget the words of Psalm 8 which tell us that "God made us a little lower than the angels and placed a crown of glory and honor on our heads." In the words of the old southern evangelists, "God don't make no junk." I try each day to pray for God to use me just as I am- flawed in so many ways- so I may serve God and do the things He created me to do. Perhaps we should quit praying for God to "make us special" and simply be the people we were created to be. Want to feel special? You were made by God. It doesn't get more special than that...

By the way, this parable (as most parables do) has a moral. And here it is. Ready? Quit while you're a head.   :)  

Because of Jesus,

Throwback Thursday: Springfield's 1991 Myrtle Beach Trip

Stacy finds yet another camera to pose for!

Today's Throwback Thursday trip takes us back to my glorious years (1986-1994) at Springfield Friends Meeting. In the summer of 1991 we took a group of students to North Myrtle Beach, SC. We stayed at a house called The Spinnaker (the Betsy B was booked) for a week. As always I brought along my trusty video camera- a Magnavox about the size of your average 50 pound TV camera. And as usual, I was having too much fun to worry about actually taping anything! Finally, on our last full day, I broke out the camera in the morning and shot for most of the morning. What you are about to read is a blog I wrote while watching that video in 2010. It was a hoot! It should be mentioned that the following is rated PG!  Here we go...

* We open on Jon Moran's temporary dragon tattoo purchased at the Pavilion the night before. Jon addresses the camera and says "I will now attempt to eat a whole box of Fruity Pebbles." It was our own little cliffhanger- stay tuned to see if he was successful!
* Stacy Gilbreth, Natalie Whitaker, Holly Harward, Charles Freedle and Ben Moran are on the oceanfront porch, watching the action on the beach as Led Zeppelin plays in the background. Stacy wants me to film some guy named Marcus, who is not with our group but who is "really cute." I refuse and harass her. Good times...
* Jennifer Simmons discusses forgetting her swim suit on a beach trip, and also how"gross" she looks. Marilyn suggests that she wear Stacy's "flowery bra" and that no one would notice. Jennifer responds by telling the camera her sister Amy looks gross too...Amy, now pictured, is not amused. 

Kelly, Kelly, Kelly...K-E-L-L-Y!!!

* A group of us wake up Kelly Allen by invading her bedroom and singing her the "Kelly, Kelly, Kelly" song from the TV show Cheers. She is also not amused.
* Avis (a friend of Jennifer Woods whose last name I have forgotten) threatens to expose herself again (A note of explanation: Avis had lost her bikini top in a wave on our first day, exposing what the kids came to call "her flippers."  Yes, this stuff really happens...) but does not.
* Shon Hildreth, Ion Hildreth, Noel Cecil and Donald Fleischman are on the porch now, listening to Guns and Roses and bothering Holly and Nat in what can only be considered an awful attempt at flirting. A moment later Journey is playing. The soundtrack to this video rocks!
* Holly, Nat, Jennifer and Stacy are walking on the beach in front of the house and screaming my name, wanting me to film them. I do briefly, but then we hear the voice of Charles in the background saying "don't get that." He then tells me to focus on two other girls walking the beach, and he yells at them "Hey ladies!  WAVE!" And they do...
* Ryan Simmons and Steven McGrath make a brief appearance, but say nothing.
* Wendy Mattocks and Kelly, sitting in a chair on the first floor, tell the following joke: "What's green and goes slam, slam, slam, slam?  A 4-door pickle!!!" I taught them that joke...it's my own fault! 

The legendary Charles Freedle

* Charles and Mike Mercadante (who has just gotten up) have tattoos, too. Jon has indeed finished the entire box of Fruity Pebbles. Tom Petty is now playing in the background. I love this trip!
* Kelly begins to tell us the story of being awakened earlier, then realizes if anyone is actually ever watching the tape, they have already seen that happen. She also tells of how we forgot to awaken her stuffed animal Yolanda, who apparently had fallen into a crack.
* Stacy takes this opportunity to once again tell us that her raft has a hole in one of the seams. And just as she has the entire week, she does this by reporting "there's a hole in my crack." Ah yes- these are my people!
* Josie (again, the last name escapes me- all I can think of is & the Pussycats and I know that is not it!), Natalie and Holly give us a tour of their room. Clothes and hair spray are everywhere! I threaten to condemn the place...
* Wendy and Kelly have changed floors but are still sitting in a chair just like the one before. Jennifer Wood has now joined them. They begin telling jokes, and then Stacy (who seems to be everywhere the camera is) tells a classic: "What do you get when you play a country song backwards?  You get your wife back, your dog back and your truck fixed!" 

Woodhead & Wendy!

* Wendy remarks that Jennifer Wood, dressed all in green, looks like a pickle. This prompts Natalie to tell the exact same pickle joke as before. We all try to act surprised. 
* Kelly brings out Yolanda, and a lengthy discussion ensues over whether this creature is a dog or a bunny. Someone even suggest a bear. Kelly swears it is a bunny. I suggest it is a "Dunny," to which Kelly replies "Yes... I mean NOOOOOO!" 
* Marie Allen is finally awake...
* Jon, Charles, Mike and Bryan Dowling emerge from their room, looking suspicious. Mike and Charles are wearing Speedos, and they proceed to run around the building. Mike has dollar bills tucked in his. As they run back into their room, Charles shouts "Well I never!" I respond "Well maybe you should!" Jimmy Buffet plays as the camera fades to static...
* One final scene- the next morning, everyone is banging pots and pans trying to wake everyone else up.  Jon, Mike, Charles and BD sleep through it all.

That's it. I missed filming the devotions, the singing on the porch, Black Thursday and all kinds of other excitement. I seem to remember sitting up one night and trying to count all of the "Na-na-na-na-na's" in the Journey song Loving, Touching and Squeezing. Every trip offers so many memorable moments. The video did capture the feeling of community and the love that we all had for each other, even if only for one day. I hope you enjoyed this flashback- I sure did! 

Because of Jesus,

A Bump with Greatness

In May of 1979 I joined my good friends Carl Semmler and Alan Brown on a month long cross-country trip that took us from North Carolina to California. Part of our "excuse" for planning this epic journey was to see my Uncle Dick and his family in Las Vegas. Even thought I was only 19 (they were both 21) at the time and therefore in the casinos illegally, we did a little gambling. We had no money we could afford to lose, so our gambling consisted of playing penny slot machines- primarily so we could get rid our our pennies! The night we went to see Don Rickles perform, we wandered a couple of the big casinos and watched other people play the big games. We understood Black Jack, but watching Craps was like listening to someone speak Klingon- we just didn't catch on. At some point late that evening we came across a Craps table where there was quite a commotion. The best we could make out, some young celebrity was in the midst of losing a LOT of money, and the crowd had gathered to gawk. After one (what I can only assume) particularly bad roll of the dice there was yelling, laughter and then a parting of the crowd as the celebrity and his entourage plowed through the masses. The 3 of us were petty much run over by them as they came out. We were surprised to see that we had just been run over by Robin Williams.

Robin was, at that time, flush with new fame from his work as Mork. He was also, we would learn as the years passed, addicted to cocaine. As his group bumped into us, there was no remorse, no apology and no recognition of the rudeness. We were more than a little disgusted with their behavior. If you had asked us that night if we had seen the funniest man in the world, we would have assumed you meant Don Rickles. I was certain Robin Williams would be a one-hit wonder. The next year he released his first movie, Popeye- a truly awful film. For sure he was funny, but he would be forever remembered as Mork. Of that I was certain.

His death last week has spawned so many stories of what a kind, wonderful and passionate man Robin Williams turned into, despite the demons in his head. He became not only a great comic, but a brilliant actor. He left behind a legacy of film and TV appearances that will never be forgotten, and over these 35 years I became a huge fan. That ugly episode in a Vegas casino has transformed in my mind into a bump with greatness. I will leave it to others to list movies and talk about amazing performances, but I do want to share one of my favorite Robin Williams moments. A number of years ago he appeared on the old Whose Line Is It Anyway? hosted by Drew Carry. It was 22 minutes of total, manic, insane and hilariously unfiltered Robin. He cracked up not only the audience but the cast as well. One of my first thoughts upon hearing of his death last week was great gratitude that I have that episode saved on our DVR. Which is exactly where it will remain, never to be deleted. Hearing Robin and Wayne Brady sing a gospel song about landing an airplane was total. absolute brilliance.

I rarely get sentimental about celebrities. But we are all going to miss that strange little hairy man who tried to run me over all those years ago. I was so wrong. He will be remembered for so much more than Mork. 

Na-noo, Na-noo.

The Facing Bench

Today's Throwback Thursday post comes from my early years as a youth leader. It was first published on this blog in 2009 during my very first month of blogging. I'm too busy having fun with my friends Steve and Carl Semmler to write anything new today!

New Garden Friends Meeting was (and still is) a very distinctive place, even amongst the somewhat peculiar people known as Quakers. It sits across the street from a Quaker college (Guilford) and next door to a large Quaker retirement community (Friends Homes). It is very difficult to say that anything in the "norm" among Friends, but for the most part Quaker meetings and churches are divided into two categories- programmed (pastors, choirs, sermons and other elements of protestant worship) and unprogrammed (no pastor, no music, silent worship broken by people speaking from leading of the Spirit). New Garden was both, choosing to call itself "semi-programed." Among the elements of tradition Quaker worship that New Garden had preserved was the facing bench. In early Quaker worship, there was no pastor to sit "up front" and preside over the Meeting for Worship, so elders would sit there, facing the gathered worship community. They would, among other things, end worship when they sensed it was time by simply standing and shaking hands. New Garden ended worship in that same manner.

One Sunday during my time as youth leader at New Garden I found myself sitting on the facing bench. It was a very special Sunday, because we were introducing the new President of Guilford College, Bill Rogers, and his wife Beverly. Bill Rogers had come to Guilford from Harvard and was a distinguished educator. Beverly was an elegant and dignified woman who looked the part of a college president's wife- a bit stuffy! As people gathered for worship I introduced myself to them and we all took our seats on the facing bench. I sat next to Beverly, who asked me how often I had to sit up front like this, and I replied "not very often." Another moment passed before she leaned over and said to me "You know what I hate about sitting up front like this? You can't pick your nose!" She immediately returned to sitting up straight and looking quite dignified, leaving me to stifle a loud laugh and try to pretend I was having a coughing fit. I thought I was going to fall off the facing bench! She never even smiled. After worship she thanked me for helping make her first Sunday at New Garden a memorable one, and that was all that was said.

I was reminded that day that God can use anyone or anything to inspire us. Some inspire us to greater faith, some to to greater accomplishments, and still others to greater learning. Bev Rogers reminded me that Sunday morning that God also inspires us to great laughter and greater joy, even in the midst of dignity and seriousness. Thank you Bev. And may God grant us all a good laugh everyday as a blessing and a Holy moment!

Because of Jesus,

Jesus, the Storyteller

Who was Jesus?

He was a storyteller.  He told stories.  He was the world's greatest storyteller.  Ask him a question; he'd answer with a story.  Give him a crowd of people listening intently; he told them stories.  Give him an argument; he'd give you a story.  Give him a real tricky, catchy question; he'd give you a real tricky, catchy story.

Have you ever watched a 7-year-old listening- inhaling- a story?  Eyes wide, mouth slung open, mind churning, he lives, accepts and believes.  He is totally absorbed.

This man-God Jesus.  He was a good storyteller.  He knew what he was doing...

Lois Cheney, from her 1969 book God Is No Fool   Abingdon Press

Be the Change

I first read this story a very long time ago and used it in a sermon in 1992 at Springfield Friends Meeting.  I wanted to share it with you today as an encouragement to us all. Too often in today's world we like to complain about the way things are, but we seldom seem to do anything to make things better. This is often especially true in the church.  Jesus doesn't want us to sit around and complain.  He wants us to get out into the world and do something GREAT in His name.  I have no idea if this is true, But it is a great story...

A young boy complained to his father that most of the church hymns were boring to him. They were too far behind the times, with boring tunes and meaningless words.  His father put an end to the discussion when he said, "If you think you can write better hymns, then why don't you?"  The boy went to his room and wrote his first hymn.  The year was 1690; the boy's name was Issac Watts.  Among the almost 750 hymns he penned in his lifetime are When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, O God Our Help In Ages Past and Joy To the World.  Feeling bored?  Do something great to serve God.  Wouldn't it be amazing if we were still remembered for our faithfulness 320 years from now?

Do you love the church of Jesus Christ too much to leave it the way it is?

Because of Jesus,

Those Wacky Quakers

New Garden Friends Meeting, located in Greensboro, NC, is a very distinctive place- even among the very distinctive people called Quakers. It sits across the street from a Quaker college (Guilford) and next door to a large Quaker retirement community (Friends Homes). It is very difficult to say that anything is "normal" among Friends, but for the most part Quaker meetings and churches are divided into two categories- programed (pastors, choirs, sermons and other elements of protestant worship) and unprogramed (no pastor, no music, silent worship broken by people speaking from leading of the Spirit). New Garden was both, choosing to call itself "semi-programed." Among the elements of traditional Quaker worship that New Garden had preserved was the facing bench. In early Quaker worship, there was no pastor to sit "up front" and preside over the Meeting for Worship, so elders would sit there, facing the gathered worship community. They would, among other things, end worship when they sensed it was time by simply standing and shaking hands. New Garden ended worship in that same manner.

One particular Sunday during my time (1979-1983) as a youth minister at New Garden I found myself sitting on the facing bench. It was a very special Sunday, because we were introducing the new President of Guilford College, Bill Rogers, and his wife Beverly. Bill Rogers had come to Guilford from Harvard and was a distinguished educator. Beverly was an elegant and dignified woman who looked the part of a college president's wife- a bit stuffy! As people gathered for worship I introduced myself to them and we all took our seats on the facing bench. I sat next to Beverly, who asked me how often I had to sit up front like this, and I replied "not very often." Another moment passed before she leaned over and said to me "You know what I hate about sitting up front like this? You can't pick your nose!" She immediately returned to sitting up straight and looking quite dignified, leaving me to stifle a loud laugh and try to pretend I was having a coughing fit. I thought I was going to fall off the facing bench! She never even smiled. After worship she thanked me for helping make her first Sunday at New Garden a memorable one, and that was all that was said.

I was reminded that day that God can use anyone or anything to inspire us. Some inspire us to greater faith, some to to greater accomplishments, and still others to greater learning. Bev Rogers reminded me that Sunday morning that God also inspires us to great laughter and greater joy, even in the midst of dignity and seriousness. Thank you Beverly.  And may God grant us all a good laugh everyday as a blessing and a holy moment!

Because of Jesus,

Pranks! (Quaker Lake Style)

We loved to taunt the cooks!  Recognize me?

I have heard from a few former youth from my days at Springfield Friends Meeting over the past couple of days that they have children of their own who are attending Quaker Lake Camp this week.   Such conversations got me thinking about all of the useful things my 7 summers working there taught me that served me well as a youth pastor.  Among the things I learned was how to pull off a great prank. Like most camps, the staff at QLC has to find ways to amuse themselves during a long, hot summer, and we did- OFTEN! We not only had previous staffs to show us the way to a good prank, we had the movie Meatballs, which was popular at the time. And we all wanted to be Bill Murray.  Here are a few memories of a few great pranks from those days.  There are so many more...


The first prank I will mention was a revenge prank. I travelled across the country with Carl Semmler and Alan Brown in 1979, and Carl had, on a very hot, muggy night in New Orleans, gotten up in the middle of the night and pushed buttons until he turned on the heat, because he was chilly. Alan and I both woke up in puddles of sweat, and when we tried to make him aware of his error, he threw a glass ash tray at us. Fast forward a few weeks when all 3 of us were working at QLC. Carl always slept in a sleeping bag like a mummy. So one evening I unzipped the bag and emptied and entire bottle of baby powder in the bag. When Carl climbed in that night in the dark, the powder flew and he, his bed and most of the room was buried in powder. It was awesome. Even more awesome were all the pranks he pulled on the female staff before finding out it was me- 5 year later!


Prank number 2 involved grand theft, clothing! During a junior high camp my first summer a cabin of girls had pranked my cabin in some small way, so we decided to strike back. One afternoon, while the girls were all busy, we sneaked into their cabin and stole all of their luggage, placing it in a corn field behind the main lodge.  We also found that one of the girls had some "day of the week" panties, so we took "Friday" and froze them!  They came back to their cabin, panicked, looked everywhere, and we finally had to give up the location of the luggage after the camp director got really angry with us. We did not, however, give up the frozen panties until breakfast on Saturday (with a formal presentation in front of the whole camp, of course!), which has always made us wonder what panties did she wear on Friday? As with most great pranks, this resulted in a rule change which forbid guys from entering girls' cabins for any reason...

Our fearless leader, Neal Thomas!

At some point during my QLC career our boss, Neal Thomas, issued a ban on wasting things while doing pranks.  It meant we had to get more creative.  One week we discovered that there was entire 25 pound bag of dried potato flakes that has been attacked by mice and was about to be thrown out.  We saved it, assuming there had to be something evil we could do with such a gift.  We were right.  There was a cabin next to the main lodge that housed the female staff who were not cabin counselors- life guards, cooks, etc. There was no air conditioning anywhere at camp back then, and so at night the ladies would have many floor and window fans running in an attempt to stay cool.  Late one night after they were all asleep, we blockaded their door with cement cinder blocks and started shoveling in the potato flakes through an open window. With the help of their own fans, we created quite a blizzard.  And quite a mess...


One of the traditional pranks in those days involved the guys sneaking around the lake in the middle of the night, locking the girls in their cabins, and singing to them- thus waking them up. In addition to just being irritating, it often had the effect of causing the girls to need to use the restroom.  The restroom was in an outhouse a short walk from the cabins, and since they were locked in, that was an issue.  One particular night one of the girl's counselors, Beth Grantham, began to yell at my guys, telling them they were in big trouble.  She finally threatened them by saying, "You just wait until I tell Carl Jones you are out of the cabin!!!"  At that moment, I simply said, "Good morning, Beth!"  She forgave me within weeks...  :)


QLC allowed counselors to tell ghost stories in those days, and one of the favorites was about The Quaker Lake Hand. The story has something to do with a camper loosing his hand and the dismembered hand haunting the camp for many years. One night, with 30 or so 9 and 10 year old campers gathered in one cabin, a couple of the guys were telling the story. I had the bright idea to, at the crucial moment in the story, put my hand behind a glow-in-the-dark frisbee and slap it against the screen of the cabin. It worked- screams were heard all over camp, and the next morning a number of campers showed up for breakfast packed and ready to go home. Oops! Once again rules were changed, and ghost stories were banned.  Sorry, future generations...


As you can see, we were creative and daring in those days, and these stories just scratch the surface!  But I learned a great deal from all of this silliness. I learned that you have to be careful with how you treat people, even in the name of fun. I learned that creativity is a gift that must be used with some degree of caution (although it took me a LONG time to learn that lesson well!). And I learned yet again that life, lived together in the name of Jesus, is never, ever boring! 


Because of Jesus,

I Shot the Bishop

John, Todd, Pat & Keith Willis

Several months had passed after the big visit from our Bishop and the burning of the mortgage on the Administration Building at FUMC-K.  The story of Pastor John Willis mistakenly referring to me as a Mormon to our DS and our Bishop had spread throughout the congregation and had become a huge inside joke for us all.  The youth were sponsoring one of our famous Coffeehouses, which always drew big crowds of church members.  Quietly, behind the scenes and unknown to the rest of the staff, I had been working on a Video the Bishop song- just as Ginny Johns had suggested (see yesterday's post).  While the lyrics had almost nothing in common with the truth, the song is one of my favorites.  And just think how much more memorable that day would have been if it had really happened this way! Here is Video the Bishop;  words and music (which you can't hear) by me.

I headed for the church on a clear winter's day

Hoping to hear what my Bishop had to say

As I cruised through Kissimmee in my old pick-up truck

I was praying that the Bishop might just bring me some luck

You see I'm out of a job and my dog has the flu

And my children belong in the Gatorland Zoo

So I'm hoping for help from the good LORD up above

I want to be famous and showered with love

We arrived at the church, just my pick-up truck and me

The place was so crowded that no one could see

I climbed up on my truck to secure a good view

When a man tossed me a camera and said "Boy, here's what to do..."

Video the Bishop from your pick-up truck

It's your ticket to wealth and fame

You'll probably be remembered in story and song...

As the man who shot the Bishop from the rear of a pick-up truck

The Bish began to speaking and I zoomed in to see

He was making his last statement, he was issuing a plea

I just kept on taping, he never saw me standing there

As he grabbed a piece of paper and waved it in the air

"This is the church mortgage," he said waving it to and fro

"We're now going to burn it 'cause you finally raised the dough!"

He set fire to the paper and put it in the urn

The crowd began to cheer and the flame began to burn

The flame kept getting higher and fear spread all around

It seemed that the Bishop might just burn our building down

And I just kept on shooting as the crowd began to run

Focusing on the Bishop and all that he had done

Video the Bishop from your pick-up truck
 It's your ticket to wealth and fame
You'll probably be remembered in story and song...
As the man who shot the Bishop from the rear of a pick-up truck

So now I'm rich and famous, and it just goes to show

That anyone can win on America's Favorite Videos

Yes, even MORMONS can win, on America's Favorite Videos!

When I finished, the crowd was in hysterics.  John and Pat Willis were laughing so hard I was afraid they would pass out.  I only performed the song twice, and the Bishop heard of it but never got to hear it.  Maybe someday when my album comes out...  I just know that for many, the song was more memorable than the actual day.  It's always nice to re-write history.

Because of Jesus,

My Night With Barney Fife

This vintage post from my days at Springfield Friends Meeting (1986-1994) first appeared on this blog January 29, 2010- back when I still had very few readers! It is one of my favorite stories.  Enjoy!


One of the more interesting things about living across the street from Springfield Friends Meeting for 8 years had to do with the church's alarm system.  Each evening either Max Rees (the senior pastor) or myself would set the alarm using a key pad.  This system would sound a very loud siren if anyone opened a door, or if motion was detected in certain areas inside the facility.  More nights than I can recount, usually around 2 AM, the alarm would go off.  Over the years we determined it was often set off by mice in the building.  Regardless of the reason, anytime the siren sounded Max and/or I would get up and walk across the street.  We would turn off the alarm and wait for the police to respond.  They would check the building, find nothing, and we would reset the system and go home.  

One particular night I responded to an alarm by myself and awaited the High Point Police Department.  Two very young deputies arrived and were determined to search the building from top to bottom.  I went with them to show the way, since they seemed determined NOT to turn on any lights.  As we headed down the first hall towards the worship room, one of them thought he heard something- and pulled his gun.  I could almost hear him saying "this is bigger than big Andy- big ain't the word for it!"  I could almost sense him taking his one bullet out of his shirt pocket an loading it in his revolver.  They told me to stay in the hall and they proceeded to check out the noise- and"Deputy Fife" had his gun out the entire time.  They found nothing, and as they came out and continued to search I asked if the gun was really necessary. I explained it would be much easier to tell the congregation about a stolen VCR or a broken window than to explain a blood stain in a Quaker meetinghouse.  Despite my protest,the gun remained out.

We headed downstairs and into the Youth Room.  Shining a flashlight and holding a gun, "Deputy Fife" led us through the old kitchen and pushed open the swinging doors that led to our basement space.  Suddenly he screamed "FREEZE!" and was down on one knee, his pistol pointed towards the far wall.  He told me to hit the lights, so I did.  As the lights came up, we discovered our overzealous deputy had gotten the drop on a life-size cardboard stand-up of Christian musician Michael W. Smith.  Fortunately he didn't fire, and since MWS was unarmed, the episode ended peacefully.  The search was discontinued and the HPPD officers left without much conversation. "Deputy Fife" never responded to one of our alarms again, at least not while I was at Springfield.  Perhaps, like the character on The Andy Griffith Show, they had to take away his bullet...


Still wondering what a youth pastor does all day...and all night?  Once again I repeat the true annswer- EVERYTHING!  Have a blessed day!


Because of Jesus,

The Parable of the Grape

Jesus told some amazing parables.  This is clearly not one of his...


Once there was a head.  It was just a Head- it had no body, no arms, no legs, no feet.  It was simply a Head.  This Head felt left out in a world full of bodies.  It was often sad and quite lonely.  Day after day the Head would roll to work, roll to lunch and roll home.  Each day the Head would look longingly at the woman who worked at the desk next to his, but he could never work up the courage to speak to her- because who would want to talk to a Head?  Finally, late one night in the darkness of his bedroom, the Head could no longer contain his agony.  He cried out, "God, please help me.  I want to be different than the way you made me.  I want to be ANYTHING but a Head!"  God heard his cry, and when he looked in the mirror the next morning he was amazed to discover he was no longer just a Head.  He had transformed into a Grape.


He was thrilled.  "Now I can really do something with my life," he thought as he rolled out his front door, "because everyone loves grapes."  He decided to roll to the house of the woman from work and ask her out.  He bumped against her door until she answered.  She opened the door, but seeing as how she had legs and he did not, she looked out over the top of the Grape and did not see him.  She retreated into her home.  The Grape, however, refused to be denied.  He again rolled up against the door until she responded.  This time she opened the door, and again seeing nothing, stepped out the door to look around.  As she did, she stepped directly on our hero- and squashed him into a tiny grape flavored puddle.  The End


So many times we spend our lives wishing God had made us differently.  We want to be better looking.  We wish our personalities were different.  We want different gifts.  Pro athletes long to be musicians; musicians want to actors; all of us desire to be significant.  It is an endless cycle.  We forget the words of Psalm 8, which tell us that "God made us a little lower than the angels and placed a crown of glory and honor on our heads."  In the words of the old southern evangelists, "God don't make no junk."  I try each day to pray for God to use me just as I am- flawed in so many ways- so I may serve Him and do the things He created me to do.  Perhaps we should quit praying for God to "make us special" and simply be the people we were created to be.  Want to feel special?  You were made by God.  It doesn't get more special than that...


By the way, this parable (as most parables do) has a moral. And here it is.  Ready?  Quit while you're a head.   :)  Don't worry so much about becoming something you are not, but instead feel God's glory in your soul by being who you were created to be.  Have a blessed Sabbath and I'll see you tomorrow!


Because of Jesus,

April Fools Day, 2000

We began our trip back to the Union Church of Hinsdale from Dungannon on April 1, 2000.  I had spent the week hearing from Chris Kinsella and a few of the other guys about how the adults (especially David Knecht) had pulled a massive April Fools joke on the previous year's trip, and how badly they wanted to get even.  Being male teenagers, their thoughts of a response included lots of violence and perhaps a few nuclear weapons.  I decided to use all of my years of deviousness and pranking (thank you Quaker Lake!) to help them out.  This is the story of what happened...

We were travelling back to Illinois over a two day span, spending the first night at the same church we had stayed in on the trip out.  We decided this would be where our retaliation prank would take place.  All we needed was a time when most everyone was hanging out so there was a possibility for conflict.  We arrived at the church while it was still daylight and after settling in decided to play some wiffle ball in the church yard.  Things could not have worked out better.  Most all of the youth were playing, but I was the only adult in the game.  There were 4 guys- Chris, Mike, Nick and Jim- who were in on the gag.  After we had played for a while, Mike & Chris (who are brothers) began jawing at each other in the outfield, talking trash and starting to yell.  Then they started pushing each other, and the fight turned ugly.  I ran to them and pulled them apart just as they started swinging.  As everyone on the field turned to watch, Mike took a swing at Chris, missed, and hit me.  I went down like I had been shot.  Jim and Nick did their part to raise the panic level and sent someone to get the other adults.  They were screaming "Carl's down!" as they ran to the church.  Mike and Chris continued to tussle.  David and the other adults came sprinting out to where I was still laying on the ground, holding my jaw and writhing in (fake) pain.  They pulled the brothers apart and tended to me.  They were asking the other youth what had happened, and Nick and Jim once again jumped in and painted a grizzly portrait of violence gone wrong.  The other leaders were distraught.  What a terrible way to end a trip.  And then- just as the crowd was dispersing in a very somber mood, I looked up at David.  And as my fellow pranksters gathered around I said, "David- don't be too hard on them.  They were only getting even..."  And at that moment we all yelled "APRIL FOOLS!"  We had completely taken them in.  They were clueless, stunned and speechless.  It was a great moment.

Up until that moment I had felt like I was being seen by my new group as a sort of guest pastor.  They liked what I said, and some of them appreciated my willingness to step up and be a leader.  But I wasn't sure if they had really accepted me until after the fake fight.  Suddenly I was "cool."  I had earned my stripes.  When they designed the t-shirt from the trip the back of the shirt became a listing of things and sayings that had been important to the youth.  It is pictured at the top.  Line 3 says, "A right hook, a left jab, Carl's down- April Fools!"  I was included.  And more importantly, they chose to make the shirt a tribute to serving God.  Perhaps I could make a difference...

I arrived back to Marilyn and 4 year old Will with stories of horror and hope.  This ministry was going to be a challenge unlike anything we had encountered before.  In more ways than I knew.  We will leave stories of UC for a while now and remember some of my favorite moments at the NYWC and New York trips.  Thanksgiving season always makes me think of those two events.  I look forward to sharing those memories with you!

Because of Jesus,

"I got it...I don't got it...bzzzzzz"

The last Monday of March 2000 dawned clear and cold in Dungannon, VA.  We were ready to head out to our work sites and begin the work part of Work Tour 2000.  My youth group from Union Church in Hinsdale, IL, was divided into two groups that would be sent to different sites.  The students were excited and ready to go. 

The two primary leaders of our work effort were David Knecht, a veteran of many Work Tours, and Lindley Pittman.  Lindley was one of those Bob Villa/MacGyver combinations who could build, fix or invent most anything.  He was definitely the top dog when it came to our construction efforts.  I was clearly not only the new guy, but the guy who knew the least!  About every 30 seconds on the work site you would hear someone cry for help:  "David!  Lindley!"  Often it was me.  We arrived at our site and I was simply amazed at what we found.  It was a house trailer on a nice sized piece of land.  It had 2 bedrooms and a family of 5 living in it.  The plumbing was a mess.  There was an old utility building out back that was full of junk and seemed to be about to collapse.  There were several others structural issues that we would also be working on.  And finally, they wanted us to build a new wall in one of the bedrooms that was being shared by a brother and sister.  The bedroom was already small; we were to cut it in half. 

I was assigned with Chris and Mike Kinsella and their friend Nick to build the wall.  I had a little experience with dry wall from time spent volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, but that had been a number of years earlier.  David seemed to think that preparing the room would take a day and building the wall would take another- or 2 days at most.  He had no idea who he was dealing with...

I cannot remember exactly what we had to do to prepare the room for the wall, because it all went pretty well.  Then the construction started.  I would like to take this opportunity to defend the 4 of us against later allegations.  We were not stupid.  We knew to measure twice and cut once.  We knew to make sure everything was level.  We knew how to mark and cut dry wall and plywood.  We were not stupid.  We were inept.  Time after time we would measure, check each others work, and cut.  Each time the material would not fit the space it was cut for.  Each time we were so confident.  Mike would take the cut piece and go to place it, and every time we would hear the same thing:  "I got it...I don't got it..."  And it was back to the saw for more "bzzzzzz."  Frustrated does not even begin to describe how we felt.

We worked on that wall for 5 days, finally splitting that bedroom with a solid, painted divider.  By the end we had discovered that our biggest problem had been an assumption.  As we measured and cut and checked to make sure we were keeping the wall level, we assumed that the floor and the ceiling were level.  They weren't close.  We had been building a wall in a room where the ceiling was slanted, and the floor was too- at a different angle than the ceiling!  We rookies never had a chance.  By the end of the week the 4 of us had grown close (shared misery will do that sometimes) and had hatched a master plan for the trip home.  But that story will come a bit later.  Before that we have a few other stories to tell from the work site.  Come back Friday (tomorrow is another Moment With Mullins) to learn all about The Sawshack Redemption.  Indoor skeet shooting, anyone?

Because of Jesus,