Another Hero

I just read "Between a Rock and a Hard Place" by Aron Ralston. This guy is an American hero. Everyone should read this story.

BOYCOTTS, and other things that make Christians look stupid

Today my wife received two e-mails calling for boycotts. The first one is a letter written to Wal-Mart in reference to the “Big Box” retailer becoming part of the Gay/Lesbian Chamber of Commerce. The text of the letter reads as follows:

Thank you for your response to my comments. However, your message was very disturbing.

My family spends thousands of dollars at Wal-Mart every year. For years, we have purchased nearly everything we needed (food, clothes, house supplies, school supplies, entertainment items, etc.) at Wal-Mart. As of this moment, that type of reliance on Wal-Mart products will decrease significantly until Wal-Mart changes its current "commitment" to "advancing" the ungodly lifestyle of homosexuality.

You've never stopped homosexuals from coming into your stores and purchasing your products, but now you've crossed the line. It is one thing to sell products to homosexuals and give them adequate service, but it is entirely different to financially support their ungodly agenda. You have now thrust yourself into the Culture War...and are on the WRONG side.

As a concerned Christian and American, I will make it a point to let others know of your ungodly antics, beginning by copying this e-mail to more than 50 individuals. Who knows how many people they will forward it on to?

I beg you to change your ways, or risk losing your longtime support base--middle-class Americans (many who still care about conservative Christian values). There are a lot of Americans who'll never buy a Ford again (at least not until their support of the homosexual agenda ceases). I wonder how many will now cut back on Wal-Mart, too?

Sincerely,

The second e-mail was protesting a Muslim Christmas Stamp. After giving several reasons that the USPS official stamp is a bad idea, it ends with this admonition:

REMEMBER to adamantly and vocally BOYCOTT this stamp when purchasing your stamps at the post office. To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.

I’ve ALWAYS hated the idea of boycotts, but was never able to clearly articulate my reasoning until I read Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. In this amazing little book Bell calls the followers of Christ to a new direction. So, let me suggest that in the face of sin and sinful times the Church must become a blessing machine

We reclaim the church as a blessing machine not only because that is what Jesus intended from the beginning but also because serving people is the only way their perceptions of church are ever going to change. This is why it is so toxic for the gospel when Christians picket and boycott and complain about how bad the world is. This behavior doesn't help. It makes it worse. It isn't the kind of voice Jesus wants his followers to have in the world. Why blame the dark for being dark? It is far more helpful to ask why the light isn't as bright as it could be.
- Rob Bell

More Heros

Class of '07

Sunday night I met with the STAND Ministries Senior class (Taylor, Maddie, and Whitney) and let me just say, "wow".

I am so excited. All three of them are smart, devoted, articulate, and strong leaders. We could have talked for hours. We covered the topics on my list and then many, many other topics. They have a understanding of people and relationships that rival many of the adults I know (including the youth minister). Meeting with them this year is going to be my pleasure. I look forward to hearing their advice, traveling with them and watching God work through them.

Thanks to all three of you for last night. I, for one, needed it.

ps. Thumb to the nose.......twice.

My Heros:

Gone on a Mission Trip. You can keep up with it here:

Mission AICM 2006

C is for Cookie

You would think that after several months away from the blogsphere that I would come back from the dead with something insightful and profound. Have you met me?

Instead, I’m going to do everyone reading this a huge favor. If you are ever in Huntington, WV – or you are lucky enough to live here then you will thank me later. Anyhew – I love chocolate chip cookies. It’s really my favorite food. There is nothing like cookies and milk. I would eat them every day if I could. I, in no way, claim that this is an exhaustive list, but in my experience the best chocolate chip cookies here in H-town are the following.

Carol Durst’s homemade cookies. I hate to start the list with cookies that are not pubic ally available, but hey, ya gotta do…. So if you know Carol, you probably know that her chocolate chip cookies are the BEST. If you don’t know her and don’t have an inside track to these delectable treats, I suggest the following.

Subway cookies. Specifically the one on Rt. 60. Man, you can’t go wrong with Subway chocolate chip cookies. If they are out of them I would suggest you sweet talk Judy (the manager) into selling you some of the cookie dough. You can go home and cook them yourself.

Max and stinkin’ Erma’s. Unbelievable. They serve them to you hot and ready and for an extra six bucks, with a glass of milk (so Max’s is a little expensive). If you don’t want to wait, I suggest you order them about 15 minutes before you finish your meal.

Welcome to Moe’s. I was not expecting the Mexican version of Subway to have a quality chocolate chip cookie, but I was impressed.

Finally, in possibly the most unexpected place of all, Target. In their little “café” you can buy cookies baked that day. My friend Rob bought me one the other day and it was quality.

If you know of another place of equal or great chocolate chip quality, do tell. I’m always open to try something new.

YYYEEESSS!!!!!!!!!!

Paul's Blog

Try Paul's blog. You won't be sorry.

Paul Huyghebaert

This Road (part 3)

On Thursday I will be leaving for Nicaragua to take part in a medical mission. You can keep up with the trip by clicking the following post. Please be praying for us.

Mission Nicaragua 2006

This Road (part 2)

I hate hospitals.

As I descended down A-tower the elevator stopped about half way to the bottom floor. I was joined by a lady whom I can only assume was a young mother. She was crying. This was not a subtle melancholy. What I heard were the gut-wrenching sobs of loss. I’ve been in enough hospitals enough times to recognize this particular brand of agony.

I wanted to help. I wanted so badly to comfort her. I wanted to say something to let her know I understood her pain. But I couldn’t give comfort and I don’t understand her pain. As bad as I hate hospitals, as much as we’ve been through, and as much pain as I feel when we are confronted with Brendan’s heart illness, tomorrow I get to take him home. As bad as it gets, we are indeed richly blessed.

So, I said nothing. I had nothing to offer other than a silent prayer to the one who could help.

The second turn on this month long road-trip brings me to Columbus, Ohio. Another heart procedure behind us I sit and take stock of what is real. In times like these there are some truths that have brought me strength beyond measure.

I don’t know how anyone does this without family. Dana and I are both blessed by a devoted family and an extended spiritual family. The strength we draw from the love that comes from our church is difficult to quantify. To those who covered us in prayer and support, we are in your debt.

Brendan is the strongest person I know. The past two days had to be scary for him. He faced them with the courage of a warrior. With all the pride that only a Dad can truly feel, he is my hero.

Hospital food sucks. The stuff they brought Brendan to eat tonight was not fit for human consumption. I wouldn’t even feed it to the Imlay’s dogs (I’m not sure how this truth has brought me strength, but it feels good complaining about it).

I love my youth group and my youth volunteers. When we walked around the corner tonight to see RonJon, Emma Jo, Rob and Cory waiting in Brendan’s room it was difficult for me to hold back my emotion (at least until they started making fun of me, er, which really wasn’t that long after they arrived). The card we got from Amber was amazing. The calls, letters, and love that have been sent our way keep us going. I have the best job in the world.

People always ask how we do this. The answer I always give is, “God gives us the strength we need.” That strength shows up in many ways, but mainly through relationships, our friends, our family. We are blessed. There is a strength, a power in God’s family. I hope the lady in the elevator knows that strength.

This Road (part 1)

With a backpack, an i-pod, and a couple of hats in tow, I strike out on a familiar trip to be with my family for my Dad’s surgery. I’ve been so busy. The car provides an oasis of sorts, a resting place, a spot to cool down from the desert heat that has been my life. The singer songwriters fill the listening space in my car delivering thoughts both contemplative and ironic, like the town criers of old, like the ancient prophets spinning their own private brand of truth.

It is in these moments I realize I have spent my entire life traveling to Tennessee, but never really staying. Wherever I have lived I’ve always known the path back. I’m going today for my Dad’s surgery, but I’ll be back in a month for another reason. I used to think it was because I was meant to live there, like I had somehow I had missed my destiny, my one true love. Now I think it’s more about the trip back, or should I say the trip home if home can be a place I’ve never truly lived.

The reason for my trek this time is not an exciting proposition. Although this surgery is a long time coming, the idea of spending any more of my life in a hospital waiting for news is almost unbearable. If it will ease my Dad’s pain at all it will be worth it. It’s amazing how much a few seconds can change your life. Since the accident Dad as not been the same and in a way none of us have.

The surgery was planned to last several hours, but it has only lasted an hour and a half. The doctors told Dad he would be in the hospital for five days, but he is out in less than twenty-four hours. He should not be walking for days, so I guess it’s no surprise that he is walking me to my car to tell me goodbye.

The music on the way home is much more upbeat. Even though Dad is still in pain, there is now hope where there was none before, hope that he can move on from the tragedy that has affected us so. As I reach the place half way between home and home my thoughts turn to my family, to the love Dana and I have for Brendan, and to the uncertainty of the next part of this journey.

I love my life.

I rejoice in what is behind us, and praise God for the trials that are ahead. The strength of the embrace from my son as I walk in the door brings emotions for which I am not yet ready. He’s going to need that strength.