Category Archives: Personal Reflection

April 20, 2010 · 5:20 pm

The Pastor on the prayer list

Every week we have a list of people on our prayer list.  Because of privacy laws, we don’t get real specific.  There is a category called “Those in need of healing, comfort, or guidance”  It is usually about 15 people.  It fluctuates a little as people are asked to be put on, and are taken off.  On Sunday there will be a person on the list that has never appeared there before: me.

I’m not sure why this is such a big deal to me.  It really shouldn’t be.  Yet I thought about putting myself on the list last week and didn’t.  I’ve been having headaches for the last three weeks.  I’ve got medicine for them now, and it seems to work.  When the medicine wears off though, it can be miserable.  Last week I had an MRI just to rule out the worst-case scenario.  Today I found out that my brain image is normal (which, I assume, is a relative term).

In between the scan and the results was a Sunday in which I was not on the prayer list, and I cannot help but wonder if I failed my congregation in not including myself on the list.  I talk a good game about being a community of faith.  Whenever we share prayer concerns and joys, I talk about how great it is that we can come together and lift up each other in prayer.  Yet when it was my turn to be lifted up, I resisted.

I think I resisted because I was mixing concepts of spiritual and secular leadership.  As the primary leader of our congregation, I lost sight of an important aspect of spiritual leadership – the ability to be vulnerable.  Culture tells us that leaders need to be strong and resilient.  Leaders are supposed to be Superman, invulnerable to the frailties of the rest of us.  I spend so much of my energy rejecting that cultural myth of masculinity, leadership, strength and power; and yet when it came to me being in a time of need, I fell right back into it.

I remember though, that being a leader is not about being invulnerable.  Acts 6 tells us that being a spiritual leader is about being “of good standing, full of the spirit and of wisdom.”  In this case, it was wise to ask for prayers.  My head is killing me sometimes, and I desperately want to know why.  I am in need of prayer.  Besides that, I am risking my body two times a week on a football field like an idiot.  I am in need of prayer.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I need to be a fixture on the prayer list.  I put myself on the list today, and I’m having trouble imagining a time that I will think to myself, “Well, I’m good – I don’t need prayer anymore.”

So the pastor is on the prayer list.  I am in need of your prayers too, and that doesn’t make me any less of a leader.  In fact it makes me a better one.

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April 2, 2010 · 1:28 pm

Pastor Dawg: putting on the pads

Since January, I have embarked on an amazing and terrifying journey. I am 32 years old, last played football as a freshman in college, and am trying to make the Twin City Dawgs, a semi-professional football team that plays their home games in Chenoa.  To read more about his journey, you can read about my Glory Days, and about my first experience as Pastor Dawg.

I stand on the line. One man is next to me. He is my ally. There is another man behind us. He carries a ball, and wants to carry it for as long as possible. We are offense. Two men stand across from us. Another man stands behind them. Their job is to stop the man with the ball.

As I take my stance, there is little time to think. Little time to process what is about to happen. It is so incredibly simple. I am to launch myself at the man across from me. We are going to collide. Hard. There is about two seconds between when I put my hand down and when the whistle blows. I’m not even sure who stands across from me. He is big. I need to fire off, be quick. Explode. I haven’t done this in eleven years. I visualize quickly what I want to happen: We collide, I punch with both arms upward into his pads, using them as a lever. I am lower, and use that as an advantage to push him backwards. The man with the ball behind me goes by us untouched.

That’s not what happens. The whistle blows, I launch myself at him, but he steps a little to the side. I graze him as he skirts around me and tackles the man with the ball. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

It is someone else’s turn. I’m a little dismayed, but not defeated. It is my turn again, and quickly. I step into the line again. “Don’t make the same mistake,” I think. Fire off, but under control. Don’t lunge. He has to come to me too. The whistle blows. We collide. This time the collision is square. I stand him up. I try to drive him back, but he’s not going anywhere, so I try to wall him off to the outside. The man with the ball sees the direction I am turning my man, and he adjusts accordingly. He runs by untouched.

I win this one. I want to let out a whoop. I am too winded. It’s going to be my turn again in about 45 seconds.

My experience as a Twin City Dawg went to a new level yesterday. Tuesday was the first day with pads, but I had a stomach virus since Sunday night, and spent the previous 48 hours before practice in close proximity to a bathroom. Thursday night was my first practice withpads. It felt good. Really good. I got beat up, bruised, and scraped, but as I drove home I felt amazing. I filled in as a right tackle a lot, and got a lot of reps. My problem was I was a little too cautious. Cautious is a bad thing to be on a football field. Standing still is dangerous. Once when I wasn’t sure where to go I stood a little bit, and a running back ran into me pretty hard.

The other aspect of me playing football – the evangelical part – is also going well. It has opened doors to new relationships in places I would not have expected it. Like I said at the outset, I am not going around preaching to anyone. All I want to do while on the football team is build relationships. The guys know that I am a pastor. Most of them are starting to call me “Preacher.” In time, if someone asks me to pray – I’ll be happy to do so. If someone asks me about my church, I am happy to tell them. If someone asks me a question about faith, I’d be willing to listen. I hope all of my teammates would agree that I have not pushed myself as a “pastor” on anyone.

At a recent Christian youth retreat though, where the fact that I was a pastor was a given, the fact that I am playing football helped. I don’t want to get into the specifics of how it happened, but me playing football created common ground with some of the guys. We talked about football for awhile, which then lead to more serious questions. It lead to very helpful spiritual and practical discussion

When I started this, I had a few goals in mind, and all of them are looking good.
1. Don’t get hurt. So far, so good. I’ve been using our ice packs a lot more, but I’m still good.
2. Have some fun playing football. There is nothing better.
3. Get in better shape. I have lost some weight, and gained some strength.
4. Build relationships that may or may not lead to spiritual exchanges. Already started in surprising places.
5. Inspire others. Not sure, but I haven’t really told a lot of people yet either.

Twin City Dawgs Roster (Notice that I have the number of my favorite TE of all-time, prize for the one that guesses who it is)

Twin City Dawgs Schedule

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October 24, 2009 · 11:15 pm

Retired pastor

I used to joke that there is no such thing as a retired Pastor.  There is always a small church somewhere in need of a preacher, or a pastor that is going on vacation, or Bible study to teach, or a wedding to officiate.  I used to think that there is no such thing as a retired pastor.  I thought that, until I met one.

Every month I lead chapel at an independent living facility.  A few months ago I met a retired UM pastor.  He is in his late eighties.  After chapel this week I went to his room to talk. 

His wife lives in the community also, but she requires a higher level of care because of dimensia.  The two have been married 60 years, and they live under the same roof.  Yet he has his own sparsely decorated room and she has a seperate room that she shares with a stranger.

They have two kids, neither of whom live within 150 miles.  He was a United Methodist pastor in Illinois for many decades.  He served churches all over the state, from the Indiana border to the Mississippi River.  He told me about a book in which he has kept records.  In it are the names of those that he has baptized, buried, and married.  He also has some simple notes on every sermon he has preached. 

I have an identical book.  Mine has about five pages partially filled in.  His is full of names.  The names in the book represent people that he has lead to Christ.  There are names of babies that are surely middle-aged by now.  There are couples that have stayed together to celebrate silver anniversaries.  It would be almost impossible to determine how many lives he has transformed over the years.

He has friends all over the state.  People call from time to time.  One couple sent him a portable DVD player.  His son bought him a pretty nice flatscreen TV.  The walls in his room are bare save for an undecorated brass cross.  On the table next to his chair is an old worn out Bible and an Upper Room.

As we sat and talked he told me about some of the churches he has served.  I mostly listened as the words came pouring out.  I looked him in the eye and heard a small part of his story.  A couple of times I could see sadness in his eyes, especially when he talked about his wife or about family that lived so far away.  A couple of times I could see joy spread across his face as he talked of his grandchildren, or about some of his old churches.

Eventually, I had to leave.  He was gracious when I stood.  He had told me that he didn’t know how to connect his portable DVD player to the TV.  I could tell it would only take a cable and a minute to do.  I promised him I would come back and set it up for him.  I left him my address and phone number.  As I was leaving he asked for a hug.

“I really miss that.  It’s hard to hug my wife.  Sometimes I try, but…” he stopped.  I gave him a hug.  A real hug, and said goodbye.

On my way home I cried. 

Here is a man that has given his life to the church.  He had a book full of names of people that he has impacted.  He has friends all over the state.  Yet here he is, alone.  Here he is, in desperate need of a friend.  Dying for a hug.

I’m glad I could give it to him.  I’m glad I can be his friend.  I plan on going back.  I need to go back.  Maybe as much for me as for him.  When I look at him I see my possible future.  I see the loneliness of children scattered across the country, and the confusion of a gift I do not know how to use.  I see a book full of names, and the fear of having friends scattered all around the state, but no place to call home. 

So I will be his friend.  I will be his friend because he needs me, and I will be his friend because I need him.

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October 13, 2009 · 12:41 am

Personal Revival

I spent last week taking batting practice with Mike Schmidt and George Brett.  One taught about power, the other about hitting for average.  I listened as they taught me about so much more than the mechanics of a great swing.   After hearing them teach I was compelled to be better, to strive for excellence.  They convicted me in my failures – my feeble attempts to do it all by myself.  They called upon their coaches, teachers, and teammates that helped them be great.

They helped me realize that the moment the ball leaves the pitchers hand is preceded by hours spent at the tee, in the cage, in the weight room, studying from others, watching tape, and breaking down opponents.  The moment of the swing carries with it hours of preparation.  They reminded me of the old adage that “a failure to plan is a plan to fail.”

Actually, I didn’t go to a baseball fantasy camp.  I spent two days with Adam Hamilton and Mike Slaughter.

These two men have achieved great things.  I could go into details, but let me sum it up by saying that they are the embodiment of the greatest hope I see for the United Methodist Church.  They represent the extreme center at its greatest, most fruitful, and most faithful.  I know neither of them personally, and I am careful to not idol-ize them in a sinful way, but they are models to emulate, respect, and learn from.

I went to the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection’s Leadership Institute, and it renewed me.  The time spent in learning, worship,  and personal reflection gave me a new passion for who I am as a pastor.  They challenged me and encouraged me to be a better Christian, pastor, father, and husband (not necessarily in that order).

While there I made a list of things I wanted to do, changes I wanted to make.  It became a pretty long list.  There is much work to be done.  So I ask you now to stop reading and please, say a prayer for me.  It is easy to be fired up on Monday morning.

It will be more difficult later in the week when my old habits start to creep back up on me.   It will be more difficult when my cold lingers a little longer than I was hoping.  It will be more difficult when I feel too tired to cook and a quick trip to MacDonald’s would solve everything.  It will be more difficult when I sit down to do some hard work on my sermon and facebook is just waiting for me to “check” for a few hours.  It will be more difficult when I am tired in the morning and the gym feels so far away.  It will be more difficult if I keep trying to do this alone.

I need your prayers.

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October 7, 2009 · 12:30 am

Pastor Appreciation

clergy appreciationI found out on Sunday that October is Pastor Appreciation Month, so I thought I would tell you all how much to appreciate me.  Just kidding of course.

Actually, I want to write about some of the pastors in my life that I appreciate.  Doing what I do, I have come to know a few pastors. So here is a list of pastors that have shaped me in some way over the years.

Steve Arters and Heather Hasto. Steve was my first youth pastor and was a major factor in introducing me to Jesus Christ. While I wonder if we may now be on different sides of some theological issues, I know that we still share more in common than our love of the Phillies.  He shaped me in an important way, and he loved me for me. He will forever keep me grounded in the importance of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Heather was an associate pastor of the church I grew up in, and the first woman I recall being a preacher. I was completely oblivious at the time that anyone would have a problem with a woman as a pastor, and am still largely baffled by the obstacles that women clergy face. She was someone that just made people feel loved.

Keith Zimmerman. My current district superintendent. In many ways, he is my pastor. He has helped me through some difficult times, and has been a strong leader. He’s the best DS I’ve ever known, but I’ve only known two, and the other was pretty great too.

Josh Williams, Will Deuel, Nicole Cox, Jeremiah Thompson, Eric Swanson, Jay Reginetter, Megan Thompson, and Grant Armstrong. This is a group of new pastors that I have gotten to know through the Residence in Ministry and other conference relationships. RIM had very little practical value, except for the relationships that have formed with other clergy in the conference. Every time I get depressed after watching the Daily Show or see a best seller list with Bill O’Reilly or Glen Beck on the top, I think of these people, and I have hope. They are smart, energetic, young, and talented. Our conference, and more importantly the Kingdom of God, is better for having these people as pastors.

Phil Icenogle and Jason Woolever. These two pastors were my mentors during the candidacy process. Jason was a great person to sit down and share some ideas. Sometimes we would even get to the Wesley sermon we had read for our meeting. Phil is retired now, but helped me tremendously when I was overwhelmed with conference paper work.

Dave Estep, Charlie MacDonald, Shelly Forrest, Jon Hauck, Ron Marsh, Ken Sloan-Couch. A group that meets for breakfast every Tuesday morning. They have supported and encouraged me since my earliest days as a pastor. It is great to be able to get together with a group of pastors that are free of pretension and BS, and just care for one another.

Brady Abel, Sue Artt, Rick Oberle and Stacy Tate. This group started as few first-year seminarians that were terrified of oral exams, so we gathered in the library every week to study. We helped each articulate our faith. We challenged each other. We encouraged each other. After we all passed our orals, we kept meeting at a local restaurant. When we graduated we knew that the group had become an essential part of our life. So now we gather at least once a year and we help each other articulate our faith. We challenge each other. We encourage each other. We love each other.

Deana White, Eric Fistler, Diane Windler, Jack Michael, Josh Longbottom, Craig Jan-McMahon, Clint McCann, Michael Kinnamon, Peggy Way, Christopher Grundy, Deb Krause, John Bracke, Karen Tye, Jesse Williams, Nelson Pierce, Joe and Jessica Rowley, Sharon Kichline, Pam Ekey, Dee Pennington. I was reluctant to start this list because it could keep going and going, and there is no way I could include them all. These were the people that shaped my seminary experience. They are professors and students that changed my life and shaped my faith.  Eric became my best friend.  Deanna became my co-coach and friend.  I couldn’t possibly list them all, or the reasons I included them on this list.

Dr. Williams baffled me when he said, “seminary is not about finding the answers.  It is about learning to ask the right questions.”   Dr. Kinnamon reminded me that “every theological statement you make, you need to be able to make to a burning child in Auschwitz, or a dying AIDS orhpan in Africa, or a mourning mother after a drunk driver killed her child.”  Dr. McCann reminded me that, “If I have to make a choice between God’s grace and God’s wrath, I’m going to err on the side of grace.”

Michael Smith, Dan Powers, Jeff Long, Duane Larson. Michael Smith was the pastor at the first church I ever attended without my parents. He helped me through the earliest stages of my call to ministry. Dan was the pastor that helped hire me as a youth director. Although I had no experience or qualifications other than a willing heart, he nurtured me and let me grow. He allowed me to preach and teach and guided me to seminary. Jeff and Duane were the pastors of the church I served in seminary. Jeff is a leader full of charisma and a preacher not afraid to take some chances. He cast a vision for that church that is still developing. Duane took the vision that Jeff had helped create and his turned it into a reality. He is a khakis and flannel kind of guy that allows others to shine. I learned so much from them about leadership, preaching, and the pastoral office. Both were confident enough in their own position to allow me to grow.

Christian Ricker, Ed Hudelson, Dan Patterson, Steve Estes and Jerry Koch. These are the other pastors in Chenoa. We have a great working relationship. When we gather at a table we represent a wide spectrum of theological and political diversity, yet we can work together for the best interest of Chenoa. I think it helps that we honestly like each other.

Mark Harris and Mollie Ward. Mark went through CPE with me and Mollie was our director. While the other three gentlemen in our group helped me a lot, it is with Mollie and Mark whom I have continued to be in relationship. Mark inspired me as a United Methodist and as a dynamic personality. He and I are very different, and I learned so much from him. Mollie was a quiet, intelligent, pushing and yet encouraging voice through a difficult and rewarding experience. She held a group of five men together and allowed herself to be vulnerable with us. She helped me push myself to be a better pastor, father, brother, son and husband.

When I look back at this list, and what has turned into one of the longest blogs I have ever written, I feel so blessed. I have been shaped, nurtured, loved, pushed, and cared for by so many that are called Pastor. This list continues to grow. If I bought a gift card to Target for all of these people that have been there for me, I would be broke, but I also know that is not why they were there.

If you have read this list and have gotten to this point, I hope you take a few more minutes and reflect on pastors in your life. I know that bad pastors can inflict terrible harm, and I have experienced the damage they can do. If you have been harmed by pastors, try to find a place for forgiveness, because we are, after all, sinful humans.

If you have a pastor that has shaped your life, that has loved you unconditionally, that has challenged you to be a better person, that has introduced you to the love and grace of Jesus Christ, take another moment and thank them. Give them a call, write them a note, send them an email, or post something on their facebook wall.

I’m not going to lie, if I get a gift card to Chili’s in the mail, I am going to like it. But if I get a note from someone that says, “you changed my life,” I will cherish that forever.

To all the pastors that have been there for me, I say thank you. You have changed my life.

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September 24, 2009 · 10:50 pm

I love you one

Today I after breakfast I rose from the table to go to church, and I looked at my wife and two year old daughter and said, “I love you two.”  My daughter said, “What about Basil? [our dog]”

So I replied, “You’re right, I love you three.”

My daughter smiled and said, “I love you one.”

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June 26, 2009 · 10:22 pm

But I can still hit

We are down three runs in the last inning.  There is one out and a man on second.  I step into the box.  I’ve already hit two solid line drives for base hits, but have not been able to get past first base.  In comes the pitch, a little on the inside, not too much arc.  A perfect pitch.  As it comes in, I dip down a little lower, crank my bat back and turn on it. 

Perfection. 

I barely even feel the ball hit the sweet spot of the bat.  I see the left fielder turn around, which is a very good sign.  Problem: I have to run.  A lot.  As I approach second, I can see the left fielder still hasn’t reached the ball. I head to third, looking for the coach to stop me or wave me around.  He’s still watching, so I say to myself, “what the hell,” and head for home.  I figure at this point, stopping is going to take more effort than just allowing my momentum to run its course. 

As I head to the plate, I see the catcher is getting ready to catch a ball.  I remember days when I would head home after hits like this, and the catcher would still be watching his fielders try to collect the ball, and I would pull up twenty feet from the plate and coast in.  The last time I did that was three years and forty pounds ago.  As I head home, I make a tactical mistake. 

It has been a few years since I’ve made the 240 foot trek around the bases, so I forget that in slowpitch softball there are safety rules to avoid dangerous plays at the plate.  I don’t have to touch home, just run past it.  If they have the ball on the plate before I pass it, I’m out.  It’s like a force play at first, but I don’t even have to touch home – just pass it.  Unfortunately, I forget this. 

I’m chugging toward the plate, where a catcher is prepared to catch a ball being thrown in from the outfield.  My head and the ball get there at the same time.  The rightfielder tells me later that he could hear it loud and clear as the ball ricocheted off my noggin.  It’s not dodgeball.  Home Run. 

People surround me, half are patting me on the back and giving me high-fives, half are afraid I’m going to keel over.  My head doesn’t hurt.  My lungs, on the other hand…  I get back to the bench, my daughter gives me a big hug, and I start to feel better instantly.

We end up losing by one.  After the game, people ask me if my head is okay.  I honestly answer that I barely felt it.  The 19 year olds on the team laugh a little, tell me it was because I was moving so fast, it softened the blow.  Then one of them looks at me and says with a little bit of awe, “You crushed that thing.”  I smile. I may be a 31-year-old, 310 pound Fat Pastor, but I can still hit.

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June 15, 2009 · 12:29 pm

I know what I like

There are a lot of different kinds of snobs.  There are clothes snobs that scoff at anything bought at TJ Max.  There are wine snobs that look down on anyone that drinks White Zinfandel.  There are jazz snobs, coffee snobs, classical music snobs, movie snobs, and beer snobs.  There are also people that just know what they like.

I don’t know much about coffee, but if I have a cup I can tell you if I like it or not.  I couldn’t tell you how it was brewed, whether or not it was freshly ground, or what country it came from.  I feel the same way about theater.  I’m no theater expert, but I know what I like.

Tonight I went to see “Singing in the Rain.”  It was produced by the Vermillion Players.  It was a cast of mostly high school students from in and around Pontiac.  I don’t know what a theater critic would have to say, but I thought that it was excellent.  It was the best $16 my family has spent on entertainment in a long time.   I don’t know what directors do, and I don’t know how to differentiate between good and bad directing.  I know that I enjoyed this show, so as far as I’m concerned, Director Tom Ramseyer did a great job.

I laughed out loud several times, and even let out a couple of “whoops,” during the great dance numbers.  My two year old daughter was captivated.  Every time the lead female, Carrie Chandler, left the stage, she wondered “Where’d Kathy go?”  Afterwards, we were able to see her off stage, and my daughter started to cry when we had to leave.

The two male leads, John Ramseyer (Don Lockwood) and Donnie Sartoris (Cosmo Brown) were great.  They were both excellent singers, but what set them apart from any other comparable production was their acting and dancing.  They had several dance numbers that were full of energy and some acrobatic moves.  When I found out that neither of them had any tap dancing experience before they started the show, I was shocked.

Their acting scenes were great too.  The two played best friends, and their chemistry was great.  Most actors in musical theater that I have seen were not cast because of their acting abilities.  Most acting in musicals is over-the-top and a little schmaltzy.  John and Donnie interacted with authenticity and sincerity, and Donnie is a natural in physical comedy.

Some of the other actors with lesser parts were also impressive.  Dylan Webster sang only, “Beautiful Girls,” but was probably the best singer in the cast.  Sam Alsdorf was a great comic foil to “Don,” and “Cosmo,” in the “Moses Supposes” number.  Jason Williams was a featured dancer, and I wish they had featured him more because he is very talented.    Kallie Setterlund, who played Lena Lamont, had a great performance.  Her falsetto voice and facial expressions were spot on.  She had the most outrageous character, and she nailed it.

The pit did a great job too.  The music was first-rate.  And this is why community theater is so cool – I bumped into a friend, Lon Alderman, who was playing lead trumpet.  He is a fellow United Methodist pastor, and has a very nice blog that I read called “The Daily Build Up.”

Overall, it was a wonderfully entertaining evening.  On an evening that Iwas worn out, and could have easily decided to stay home, I am glad we chose to go and see the Vermillion Players.  It was well worth it.

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June 3, 2009 · 3:04 am

300 pound metrosexual

I had my face waxed today.  Does that make me a metrosexual?  I know it sounds weird, but I hate shaving the long dark hairs high up on my cheek.  I don’t want to have a beard below my eyes.  Plucking them should be on the UN’s list of outlawed torture techniques.  Today when I got my haircut I asked Anne to wax my face (actually my wife did, because I was too chicken).  Waxing hurts, but not that bad.  More importantly, it worked.  

The only problem is that my hairs were particularly stubborn (I don’t know if I should be proud of that or not), so she had to do it like 11 times on the same spot.  I have some skin left on my cheek, but not much.  

I’m not sure why I’m sharing this, I just thought the image of the Fat Pastor getting his face waxed might strike someone as funny.  I might be the first 300 pound man to wax something other than his thicket of chest hair on some kind of dare.

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October 17, 2008 · 12:20 am

Vacation

You know how sometimes you take a vacation, and when you get back you think, “Man, I need a vacation.”  My family and I just took a vacation and finally had the exact opposite reaction.  After coming home, we felt good – really good.  We actually feel refreshed.  It was such an amazing trip, and I think the only reason was that we didn’t feel like we were “going on vacation.”  Instead, we were just visiting friends.  The difference is that we didn’t feel like we had a list of things to do and see before we went home. 

Most of the time vacations seem like extended scavenger hunts.  You have a list of things you need to accomplish, and a limited time to do them.  To some, that is the fun part of traveling – to go and see as much of a place as possible.  We went to Massachusetts, so it would have been easy to have our big checklist of things to do, Basketball Hall of Fame, Freedom walk in Boston, Drive to see the foliage, day-trip to New York City, Applepicking.  Then we would have spent the week making sure to get everything in, stressing over when to go to bed and when to wake up, packing bags for the baby, and checking the weather and traffic patterns.

Instead, our list looked something like this: Go to Basketball Hall of Fame (it was really cool, but I think I enjoyed it more than my wife and daughter), hang out with our best friends, drink some Sam Addams, play some Wii Mario Kart, go to worship at my best friend’s church, have a lobster roll and clam chowder.  You see, we didn’t go to Massachusetts to see Massachusetts.  We went to spend time with our friends, whom we love more than we could ever tell them, and whom we miss everyday.

So now we’re back.  My quest to get under three-bills took a hit.  I have a ton of stuff to do.  I had 15 messages on the machine, 50 emails and a stack of mail two feet high.  I have a half week to get ready for church on Sunday, charge conference looming, a stewardship campaign getting started and Sunday school sputtering.  But I feel good.  And that’s what vacation is really all about.

 

<<Totally off-topic question for all you grammar nuts out there.  In the first sentence of this post, where should I put the question mark?  (I think that is the first time I have ever finished a sentence with two question marks).  Because the quote is not a question, but the entire sentence is.  If the ? goes inside the quotes it looks like I am asking “Man, I need a vacation?”  But if I put it outside the quotes, then that just looks weird.>>

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