The Ankle Sprain of Doom

It was bad.  Real Bad.

I’ve added “teaching” P.E. to my repertoire of talents and figured I would try to regain the athleticism of yester-year (basically pre-back surgeries).  There was a time I would take part in the pick up basketball games after Sunday evening church during the summer.  Old skewlers might remember my Loy Vaught 15-foot jumper that was just money in the bank (well, banks back then).  I’m no Michael Jordan.  I’m more of a poor man’s Lebron James.  Very poor man.  Okay, okay, I’m a lot closer to Smush Parker, but that’s beside the point. 

Basketball in P.E. was my chance to get back into shape and relive some of my youthful glory.  It took some time to get my touch back.  My ball handling skills are embarrassing, my post game can use some refining (except for when I’m backing down a 4′11″ seventh grader–I can school them all day!), but my jump shot … ever heard of Reggie Miller?  Just wondering.  Anyway, when I first got going, it was nothing but net.  It wasn’t going through the hoop, just grazing the net.  Then I progressed to hitting the backboard.  But I’ve improved.  I’m probably hitting 15% of my shots now!  Hey, that would get me into the WNBA.  Only, I’m too pretty.

In the midst of my basketball comeback, tragedy struck!  Wednesday, February 18th, I suffered the Ankle Sprain of Doom.  I was fighting for position down low when an errant shot clanked off the rim.  I went up for the rebound only to come down on a Jr. High maggot’s foot.  But this was no ordinary Jr. Higher.  Tyler is Sasquatch Maggot.  He has size 13 “feet”!  I put the word feet in quotes, because they are more like tug boats.  Well, I didn’t land square, slid off and rolled my ankle.  I let out a blood-curdling scream.  It was so loud, pitiful and ridiculous, the guys thought I was joking around.  They continued playing basketball around me as I writhed on the ground in agony.  Finally, someone figured out I wasn’t joking and they helped me get to a bench to sulk in disbelief.

“This is so stupid!”  I said over and over again.  “Stupid, stupid, dumb, retarded, stupid…”

I was a picture of peace and serenity as my ankle swelled to the size of Barry Bonds’ head.  I knew it was bad.  Even wondered if it was broken.  By day’s end, the swelling had reached around to the inside of my foot, and down to my toes.  The next few days brought bruising that could most accurately be described as gross.  The other day I showed off my badly injured foot to some of my teens.  An encouraging chorus rang sweetly in my ears:

“Ewww … that’s gross … aw, sick … is that gangrene?”

Most of my foot–down to my toes and even a good 3-4 inches up my leg–was a deep, dark purple.  If you squint your eyes and tilt your head, you would think you were looking at Barney.  Well, more than a week later, it is still a bit swollen and quite bruised.  I’m still hobbling around on crutches.  I could put a little bit of weight on it, but I don’t think Barney is ready for the full force of two hundred pounds of sheer muscle.  But it’s getting there.

It’ll be no time before I’m back on the court breaking ankles.  Hopefully, not mine!

Political Super-Star!

Whoa, I think I just saw the unveiling of some serious star power!  And, sorry, I’m not talking about President Obama.  Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal came out and delivered!  I must admit, I just about freaked out when he first walked out with his bugged-out eyes and cheesey perma-smile.  Regular readers of BarBeQuethMinistry know that I’m not one for political correctness, so here’s my honest initial assessment:  I thought someone with the Republican National Committee stopped at 7-11 for an energy drink and figured he’d pick up someone to give the Republican Party’s response.  How convenient!  Use the clerk!  Just put a suit on him and we’ll save the Republican party!

But then he started to speak.  He oozed knowledge and resolve with just the right amount of humor to show he wasn’t a robot.  In the short amount of time he had, he exposed the waste and irresponsibility of the President’s stimulus plan.  His life story was compelling and belief in the American people seemed genuine.  He also had the guts to criticize the shortcomings of his own party, and vowed to win back our trust.  Gov. Jindal was strong tonight.  Very stong.  I’ll be following him closely.

How does a Jindal/Palin ticket sound for 2012?

Fave Fives VII: Intro Lines

Okay, so who in the world are these chicks?  Don’t know their names, you’ll have to ask James Burrow or Clinton Minnick.  They had the hots for the one on the left at Spring Retreat.  I don’t even remember what church they were from.  But I have eight pictures of this girl!  I gave James my camera loaded with a 24 exposure roll of film (remember those?), and had him go around and take pics.  He took some decent pics, but he wasted a third of the roll on this girl!  What a loser.  Man, how did we survive before digital cameras?

Anyway, I figured that little tid-bit of useless information would be a fitting segue into my next Faves list: INTRO LINES (Becka, thanks for the original idea; Jen, thanks for the terminology; Zaza, thanks for the concussion I suffered after falling out of my chair laughing after reading the one you posted on Becka’s blog).  So, was James’ intro line at Spring Retreat, “Say Cheese!”?

1.  My friend wants to know if you think I’M cute.

2.  My name is Will.  God’s Will.

3.  You must be a terrorist ’cause, baby, you’re the bomb!

4.  I didn’t know angels could fly so low.

5.  Do you have a boyfriend? (depending on her answer…)

      -{No} Are you taking applications?

      -{Yes} Well, call me when you want a MAN-friend!

Youth Ministry “Trick” #4

How time flies!  It really seems like just yesterday our girls were getting ripped by the Pastor’s wife in Dulce for flirting with her sons.  I can still hear Jenny and Brittany bickering about something.  I can see Melinda spazzing out, jumping up and down and flapping her hands wildly.  James and Clinton tormenting Philip, trying to get him to explode.  Josh calling all the girls “mom”.  *Siiiigh*  Such good times, so long ago.  You know what that means, right?

No, it doesn’t mean I’m old!

It means I really have been doing this a long time!  It’s crazy, I’ve got kids in my youth group who weren’t even born when I got started in this business.  Twelve years filled with ups and downs.  I want to encourage youth leaders to stick around for awhile.  The average stay of a full time youth leader in fundamental baptist churches is less than a year.  You’re hardly getting to know your kids in that short amount of time.  Here’s a trick for longevity:

Categorize criticism.

Huh?  I don’t blame you for the confused look.  But there are a couple types of criticism that will come your way.  First is constructive.  Whenever a godly man criticizes you, learn!  I’m talking about the person in your church who has been saved 40+ years, built a bus route, taught a Sunday School class and has been married to the same woman for a quarter of a century.  That person is trying to build you up.  They’re trying to bring out the best in you and edify the body of Christ.

Then there’s destructive.  I’ve had a few of these come my way over the years.  Sometimes directly, sometimes second hand.  Destructive criticism usually comes from carnal/nominal Christians.  “Watch out, Jay’s gonna hate you ’cause you swim in public without a shirt.”  “Jay’s too preachy, Sunday School should be Sunday School.”  “Jay’s way too good looking for his own good!”  Wait a minute, that would be constructive, wouldn’t it?  I’ve had complete lies told about me as a handy excuse to never set foot in any church again.  Then there’s the parents whose kids just aren’t getting it.  It certainly can’t be their fault, so who’s the easy target?  You guessed it, the youth director who plays favorites!  Some time ago, word got to me about some rumblings about “Jay’s people.” 

I didn’t know exactly where to categorize that one.  I think in the back of my mind, I thought it might be evil to have favorites.  I took an honest look at the young people I had been pouring my life into.  Is it possible I was spending a disproportionate amount of time with a certain group? 

Yep!  Guilty.

The more I thought about it, I was able to figure out who “Jay’s people” were.  A few summers back, our church had a big campaign to get out 100,000 copies of the gospel of John.  Courtney, Sheree, Buddy, Andrew and Raphael went out with me 2-3 times a week that summer.  We’d knock doors and go get something to eat.  I still remember trying to get someone to try the chicken feet at the Chinese Buffet place on Garey.  I was with those kids a lot.  But here’s the thing.  I didn’t seek any of them out.  They came to me.  “So, Jay, are you knocking doors Monday?”  “Yeah, why?”  “Can we come?”  “Sure, but, just a warning, people are gonna call you ‘Jay’s People’.”

Then when we were at 7-11, AM PM, or McDonald’s afterwards, they’d ask if I was going out later on in the week.  Good night, “Jay’s People” can be sooo demanding!  So where does this type of criticism come from?  I’m not exactly sure as I haven’t had the chance to confront it directly.  But here’s my guess: scapegoat.  I suppose they think that being in my inner circle will reverse years of wicked television and carnal music.  By the way, though I strive to be Christ-like, I’m not Jesus picking three out of the group to join me for prayer in the garden or to experience the presence of God on the mountain top.  “Jay’s People” have pretty much always just followed me there.  And so we prayed together.  Sweetly.  And we did experience God on the mountain top.

You’ll be able to accurately categorize the criticism if you are diligently about your Father’s business and confident that you are doing better than your best!  Constructive criticism can still be a bitter pill to swallow, but if you put it in perspective, you’ll be a better preacher and leader.  Destructive criticism will still be very hurtful, but once you’ve categorized it, you can revert to your childhood:

“I’m rubber you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!”

You say that enough times, you’ll freak out when you realize some of the kids in your youth group weren’t even born when you got started!

Is this the rant of a bitter old man?  A jab at those criticizing me?  No, it really isn’t.  This is a reality I’m so blessed to not have had to deal with for some time.  It is a nice place to be, good kids, strong families.  But if the Lord allows me to do this for much longer, it’ll come back around.  I know it will.

Fave Fives VI: Candy Bars

Just another completely self-centered ramble, but who doesn’t like candy bars?  The BBQthDirector really likes high end European chocolates, but the budget doesn’t always agree with my tastes.  I need an economic bail-out!  Hey, think about it, a pound of Leonidas truffles and a large Mocha can stimulate the economy!  Maybe.  Anyway, my favorite candy bars:

1.  Kit Kat [For as far back as I can remember, this has been my favorite.  Uber-cool (Becka, thanks for yet another new term!) theme song, too!  "Gimme a break!  Gimme a break!  Break me off a piece of that Kit Kat Bar!"]

2.  ReeseSticks [I guess the wafer similarity with Kit Kat just gets me.]

3.  Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups [Salmonella free, preferrably.]

4.  Crunch [Being filipino, you know I can't resist the crisp rice.  But if Nestle comes out with a candy bar featuring fish heads, I'll pass.  I'm not that filipino!]

5.  Hershey’s Cookies & Cream [Hey, it's got Oreos in it!  What more needs to be said?]

And your faves?