It was just a simple map of the ranch, although the names of every thing on the ranch were a bit odd. There was the Blue Creek Fortress instead of Pop’s house, the cottage was called the guard shack, the road out front didn’t head to Brenham or Navasota, but to Rivendale or the Shire. The barn was Baby Sister’s Keep, the ponds were Lake Pleasant for the front one, and Poison Lake for the back one. Mount Doom rested on the back part of the property just about the same location as my father’s burn pile. And every grouping of trees had some mystical, elven sounding name. There was Myrkwood Forrest, Elven Woods, Samwise Garden and one area of trees with the warning: Trolls Hideout.
That is what I noticed first as I drove by a man who was standing next to his SUV. I was heading for the high school and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man raise his hand trying to flag me down. When I looked, I realized that his truck was on the other side of the fence, laying on its side, and he was struggling to stand next to it.
I made a quick U-turn and parked in the grass. I looked at him as I got out of the car and realized he couldn’t be older than 16, and… there was blood running down his face and out of his mouth. I grabbed the towel off my golf clubs in the back of my car, knowing it was the only thing I had that could help stop the blood.
Yes, you could say that I’ve been burned by the spirit of the Christmas party spirit. Please note the non-capitalization of the word “spirit.” That is intentional because as I review my recent Christmas party adventures, and ones even farther back than this, I’ve come to the conclusion that Christmas parties, and more broadly the celebration of Christmas itself, is not good for my spiritual well being and rarely involves the Holy Spirit.
I’m not saying it is bad for your spiritual well being. Just that I don’t think it’s good for mine. So given that stipulation and the fact that this is my blog, I’m completely and totally right on this subject… for the moment. I could change my mind with new evidence, but given the case before us, this is my position right now. (Nothing like taking a strong stand in the shifting sands of such a deep and important subject).
Who Am I?
I was raised in a Christian Science home and became one when I turned 21. However I confess that I never could reconcile life to the claims that those in CS were making. There were always these miracles taking place, but never real honest miracles. Lots of miraculous cures for the common cold and such. Most of the testimonies given by those in CS were of the nature that the giver was on “death’s door” and then they prayed, and were healed. Given that death’s door can be so subjective, I take it that most of these women giving these testimonies were getting over their menstrual cramps.
When I was 9, my family had a major car accident that left my mother paralyzed for life. I remember praying over her body as she laid on the side of the road, just as we were taught to pray as Christian Scientist, but she didn’t get up. She never would walk again even though she refused medical treatment as was the common practice, and would go to a special hospital for Christian Scientist where the nurses prayed for healings. My take from it: if the god of Christian Science wouldn’t answer the prayers of a 9-year-old boy, then he was no god at all. Read The Accident here.
I just came back from feeding the horse, Birthday Girl. Since moving back to my Dad’s ranchette, Blue Creek Ranch, it’s become sort of a ritual with us. We both go out, get on the golf cart, hunt down Birthday girl, bring her back, and feed her. It’s a simple and easy routine that keeps us going across the place almost every night.
Lord willing, this time tomorrow I will be loading up the U-Haul truck with all my worldly goods and possessions in order to head back to Texas. Given that, this is my last post for a while unless I can figure out that app on my iPhone and use it to post while in the hotel tomorrow night.
The over all point is that the number of posts that I make for the next few weeks will probably diminish. Here a few photos of my destination. This little cottage is where I will be living for the next few months.
Counting today, I have seven Sundays left as a pastor. June 30th will be my last day in the pulpit here at Redeemer Christian Fellowship. Given the financial situation of the church, and things that are going on in my life, I’ve decided to step down from the pastorate and move back to Texas.
I’m hoping to find a job in the business world doing something that I am suitable for, but I’m not sure what that is right now. I know the LORD has something for me and I know that it will be a difficult transition. I’m not shying away from it and thank the LORD that I have been a pastor for the past 12 years in the Presbyterian Church in America.