Buttercups in Bloom

In May I stood in awe as Emma spent her first day of summer break at Mountain TOP putting together binders for the incoming staff.  As the phone rang that afternoon asking if she stay a bit longer to complete a few more task I was thankful for the ways that the full-time staff members were loving on Emma.  Little did I know just a few short months ago what a difference that afternoon would make and where it would truly lead in her life. As she has made her way over to Mountain TOP on Tuesdays and Thursdays something about her has changed.  She walks a bit taller than she did at the beginning of the summer (yes, she's hit a growth spirt but this is deeper than just her physical height), she's been laughing more than ever (and she laughs a lot to begin with).  There has been a sense of ownership and pride in what she is doing. She's walking taller because these young adults have become her older brothers and sisters.  They have trusted her....they have picked on her..

                                                                                          It was 1985 and I was a shy 7th grader.  I was excited to finally be able to attend Mountain TOP with the rest of our youth group.  We arrived at Camp Ozone where the staff members had their soft blue (I think) staff polo's on. I don't remember much about the things said in worship. I don't remember any of the people with whom my YRG worked alongside.  I don't remember the names of those within my YRG. I do remember our youth group performing a skit.  I remember the platform tents that dotted the woods.  I remember that there was a kid in the kitchen who was washing dishes.  I remember having a conversation with the person about how they got involved in the kitchen.  I remember distinctly saying I want to be in the kitchen next summer. I'm not sure how it happened but the next summer my parents drove to me Camp Woodlee to serve as the 'jr-staffer' for the week.

Rocks are interesting.   We spend time and energy moving them out of our yard, to create a smooth path for mowing.  We see the smallest rocks hitting our windshields and within a blink of our eye our glass is shattering in every direction.   Rocks become the metaphor for the areas in our lives that cause us to trip and fall.  For most of us the thought of rocks is something that causes sorrow and pain to rise within us. This morning as I was out hiking a trail I have hiked several times before I began to notice all the rocks that were along the path.  There were the rocks that were just small enough, sticking up just enough to cause you to trip if you weren't paying attention.  I began thinking about all the moments in my life that even when I am paying attention I seem to loose my balance.  I lose my balance in just being present. I become so preoccupied with the business of leading that I forget that relationships always trump paperwork.  I become so tired that it's al

The 2nd Saturday of every month challenges me and has changed me. I find myself sitting in the quiet of the afternoon sort of empty and yet full. My mind wanders yet sits very still wanting to take it all in. 3.5 hours that seem to leave me breathless. Every four weeks I get to spend time with persons that I don't other wise get to see.  Truth be told the sentence should read that I don't other wise take the time to see. The 2nd Saturdays aren't just about giving out food; it's not about counting the numbers (which believe me as a UMC pastor we know how to count numbers and track participants); it's not about how fast we can get them through the process of letting them shop for their groceries.  It's just so much more than that. I am breathless because a man who receives doesn't just do his own shopping and walk to his car, he is ready to jump in and carry other persons food down the steps.  More than just wanting to help others, my mind is wande

Almost 30 years ago I got on a church van with some of my closet friends ready to experience the special weekend.  We were headed to one of the coolest youth events around.  It was an event that was a  true right of passage for any United Methodist youth in middle Tennessee.  I had watched my oldest sister leave and return from this event numerous times and had awaited my turn.  That Friday night as I boarded the van there was a sense of wanting to fit in.... A longing to make an impression.... A desire to be known.... I wanted to be a part of this event called Warmth n Winter. I remember the theme to this day:  What's Love Got To Do With It?  I remember sitting in the old lodge at Camp Cedar Crest.  We were all crammed into the common space upstairs; jammed between the small hallway, open kitchen, stairwell and almost floor to ceiling windows that filled the entire side of the lodge.  On the wall behind the speaker and musician (back in the day when worship consisted of a

I sit here in a local coffee shop with my headphones plugged into my computer to help drown out the noise that surrounds me. A more mature couple is sitting a table over from me enjoying lunch and the presence of one another. Another young lady sits by herself playing on her IPad and waiting on her meal. The table beside me is filled with a men, a young adult, a priest and two older gentlemen.  The conversation is hard not to hear; not to be a part of to some degree. I want my music to quiet them, I want my words to flow upon the page that I am trying to capture as I write my sermon but something is happening that is pulling me into their conversation. A wandering is rising within me.  A questioning is forming and my head can barely concentrate on the words that are meant to be for my congregation on Sunday morning.  What is this wandering; why can I not stay focused on what is before me and the reality that I have a task before me? I cannot stay focused because these men bes