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!!!!!!!!!!

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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.

The First Annual Welty Family Reunion

This past weekend was the first time my immediate family had been together in one place at one time for a couple of years. I went into the weekend with some fear. As is the case with most families, we have our issues. But I came away from the weekend feeling relaxed and refreshed and generally felling pretty good about where are family is at this point. Here are some general impressions of the weekend.

For a family to remain close there has to be a spirit of mercy and forgiveness. If there had been an attempt to enumerate all of the things we had done to each other over the years, it would have taken a week. We all have things that we are not proud of. Especially me. The desire to let things go has overcome the instinct to hold a grudge for community to exist. The weekend was pretty much drama free, it was nice.

There were four ministers there. I am proud to be a part of a family that has that many ministers per capita.

My son Brendan and his cousin Tucker became fast friends. There were adventures and epic light-saber battles that are the stuff of legends. At one point in the weekend my sister found them standing on top of the Explorer. Not on the hood, on the top. When she told them to get down Brendan replied, “It’s my car.” It reminds me of the fun I had with my cousins over the years. I hope they remain friends and both grow up to be youth ministers.

We learned that Krystal is not a good idea when seventeen members of a family have to share a couple of bathrooms.

We also learned that laughter and prayer are the glue that holds families together. And churches for that matter.

Under Bridges

'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' - Jesus Christ

I've heard a lot of people try to explain this statement by Jesus. But, the best presentation of this concept comes from the song Under Bridges. This guy in Mexico reminded me of why this really matters (you can click on the picture for a larger view).

Brave St. Saturn – Under Bridges

Yesterday while walking,
Beneath an overpass,
I saw the figure of Jesus,
Standing barefoot on broken glass.
His beard was graying,
The smell of urine filled the air,
Asking if I had some change,
Anything that I could spare.

Emaciated,
His shaking fists balled up,
Influenza and pneumonia,
Begging God to take his cup.
So different from his pictures,
Breathing air through yellowed tubes,
Jesus Christ, dying of AIDS,
Can look right through you.

And all have hated,
Crucified and walked away,
The Savior of the prostitutes,
Drunkards, rapists,
and the gays.

Under bridges,
With hands raised,
From the ghettos they praise his name.
Broke and crippled in the dark of night,
Raise your voices to Jesus Christ,
Hallelujah.

In a world where we have more and more difficulty loving those whom God would have us love these words cry out…it’s time to treat our Savior the way he deserves to be treated.

A Mental Vacation

Click on image for larger view.

The Last "Top Five" List (at least for a while)

Ok, I don’t want to go overboard on the whole “top five” list thing, but I was recently compelled to enumerate my favorite “Reality” television shows. So, I thought I would share them with the world. Not so much the world. Let me try again…so I thought I would share them with the half-a-dozen or so that actually read this drivel.

Anyway, The Top Five Reality Shows

#5 Super Nanny – This stuff doesn’t get old. Poor parenting is the curse of my generation. We should all have her on speed-dial.

#4 Trading Spaces – There is nothing better than someone coming home and hating their room. I don’t know what’s more compelling, when the couple tries to play it off like they don’t hate it or when there’s that awkward friendship ending stare-down at the end of the show.

#3 Real World v. Road Rules – I hate the drama. I hate the typical post-teen hedonism. But, the games are cool.

#2 Rock Star – It was like American Idol with attitude. I’ve never been a fan of INXS but it was fun watching the contestants play some songs I really love. Of course they chose the wrong guy. I think the second place guy could make an album with the house band and exceed a rapidly aging second-rate 80’s band.

#1 Breaking Bonaduce – No doubt about this one. There is nothing like seeing an alcoholic, steroid using, psychopath destroy his career and his family all in the name of entertainment. It’s like baseball season without the trouble of playing 162 games. I loved the Partridge Family. Who didn’t? I’m not saying I don’t feel for the guy, and most of the time it’s not easy to watch. I guess in the end I’m rooting for him to pull it together, but I’m not very confident.

Go Bucs

Meanderings of an ADD Mind

Well, the Gators got slapped around the field this weekend by Alabama. After such a depressing loss there’s only one thing I can say. Go Tampa Bay Bucs. At least one of my teams is still undefeated.

It makes a fellow think. I haven’t heard one thing about the Black Action Network or the Rainbow Coalition giving aid to New Orleans. All of the claims of racism by their leaders, but where are they – it’s all just talk. And who is left to pick up the pieces – the churches.

If the next presidential nomination to the Supreme Court is going to be filibustered no matter what, why not throw someone up there just right of Attila the Hun. That way the next guy or gal doesn’t look quite as bad.

I don’t know why youth ministers get the rap for being disorganized. We typically organize more events and trips that anyone else in the…er… has anyone seen my cell phone?

I have this reoccurring dream that I get to heaven and ask God what my purpose in life was. He quickly responds, “There was this boy at the carnival who was about to run over by the guy driving the kiddy train. If you wouldn’t have yelled ‘watch out’ he would have never gone on to be this great man of God.” In the dream I reply, “that was it?’ “Yup, everything else was just icing.”

I don’t believe most polls.

I wonder how much you should worry about your reputation. Last week I heard that I guy I really respected didn’t care much for me. It bothered me at first, then I realized I can’t think of one thing I’ve done to the guy. I don’t know, but I’m glad God shows more grace than many of his followers are willing to show.

There are times that I am reminded of why I chose ministry. I love being a youth minister. It’s working for a church that gets on my nerves.

Brendan told me this weekend that he wanted to go to New Orleans to help with the storm victims. Last week he gave up part of his allowance (unsolicited) to send it down there. Every parent thinks their kid is great, at least until they hit sixth grade. But, I am very proud of my kid.

Speaking of children – Matt McDowell is a father. The kid weighs four pounds and already knows three chords.

A Little Tuesday Poetry

Christ is the pledge that I shall one day see;
That one day, still with him, I shall awake,
And know my God, at one with him and free.
O lordly essence, come to life in me;
The will-throb let me feel that doth me make;
Now have I many a mighty hope in thee,
Then shall I rest although the universe should quake.

- George MacDonald "Diary of an Old Soul" May 10

If I were in New Orleans

If I were there in the middle of that mess I would have a couple requests of the media.

"Put down the camera and the microphone and hand me a glass of water. While your at it, take the camera equipment out of that helocopter for a sec and give me a lift to somewhere that doesn't stink like dead people."

"No? Oh well, sorry for bothering you. I guess you can go back to blaming it all on the President."

Top Five List on Steroids

Ok, so me and several of my closest friends have been playing the “top five list” game for a couple of years now. It started out as a way to discuss music. Then it became a way to argue about music. It spread out to many other categories. The longer we did it, the more specialized or obscure the topics became (example: top five bands you would want to play at the memorial concert in honor of your death, or top five eighties movies that played on your Cold War fears [by the way, I hate to do a parenthetical reference inside of a parenthetical reference, but anyone who doesn’t pick Red Dawn as number one in that last category either wasn’t alive during the eighties or was snorting cocaine the entire decade]). Back in the Live Journal days the top five list spread to the blogsphere. Now that Toney Stowers has started posting them to his site I can foresee the top five list spreading even further. I think is should be a show on VH1. Oh, wait a minute, it used to be a show on VH1. I guess it got cancelled because Nick Taylor, Cory Jackson, RobWill, Toney Stowers and I were never invited to appear on the show.

Tonight I feel the need to elevate the top five list to a entirely new therapeutic level. Doing the lists always make me feel a little better, but never quite so much as this one. It is time for me use this honored institution as a vehicle to vent some frustrations.

So without further unnecessary explanation – The Top Five Things that are currently Getting on My Nerves.

#5 Hurricane Coverage – specifically these guys that go out and get right in the middle of the wind and rain so you can see just how bad a hurricane really is. I’m sure the first person who did this won some kind of journalistic award. Now they just come across as morons. Am I the only person that secretly hopes one of these guys gets hit in the head with a street sign? There are people who have no choice whether or not to ride out the storm, occasionally with tragic consequences. We don’t need these guys going out there pretending to be heroic.

#4 Overzealous Sport Fans – I have to careful here, because everyone knows I’m a huge Florida Gator fan. The difference between me and those of whom I speak is simply, I will occasionally acknowledge that are teams that are better than the Gators. I will admit that they occasionally deserve to lose a game or two. I know a guy who believes the Tennessee Volunteers have never lost a game that they didn’t deserve to win. After losing three games last year he was trying to figure out a scenario in which the Vols could still get a piece of the National Championship. I know another guy, who at the slightest mention that a team might have been better than the Steelers, writes a dissertation on why that can’t be true (see “comments” on the last post). As it turns out he’s probably correct, but geez. If he had worked that hard on anything in college he would now be a Nuclear Physicist. And don’t even get me started on fantasy teams. Sports are meant to be fun. If you’ve ever been kicked out of a little league game for yelling at your kid’s coach you might be a little too serious.

#3 Territorial Drivers – The other day I was trying to change lanes on Rt. 60 and three cars sped up so as to NOT let me over. One of them was a member of my church (I don’t know if it is worse if they did or didn’t recognize me). Huntington has more churches than any place I have ever lived. I guess that whole WWJD thing doesn’t apply when you’re behind the wheel.

#2 So called Religious Leaders that call for the assignation of heads of state. Have you heard about this? Every time I see ‘ole Pat on television I want to take out an advertisement with his picture on it saying on behalf of all Christendom, “THIS MAN DOES’T REPRESENT US, he has lost it. Please don’t judge the local church in your neighborhood by what this lunatic says.” Then the next day he said he didn’t mean what it was clear that he had said. I’m not a pacifist. As a matter of fact the modern peace movement in this country drives me almost as batty. I know that war is occasionally necessary but advocating assignation seems to go against one of the Ten Commandments, mainly, Do Not Murder.

And the #1 thing that is currently getting on my nerves – Cats.

It's Almost Football Season

Master in the Mountains

(I asked Cory Jackson, one of our graduates, to write about Master in the Mountains - an "end of summer" hiking trip we take every year to honor our graduates. Here are his thoughts)

I stood, rather infirmly, teetering between life and death on a rock that has most likely watched more than one person plunge to their death and hadn’t seemed to take a particular interest or liking to me. I cautiously leaned out over the valley separating Charlie’s Bunion (our particular death wish) and the next potential Fear Factor stunt. I stared at the ground and the distance between us and realized why “The Wizzled One” needed a new transmission and perhaps a tire rotation.

However, I knew that I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, especially back on the old reliable, sweltering bus with Joe Crash recounting his exploits in his appealing, singsong voice. I’ll even go so far as to say, I’d have picked that particular foot abnormality over Galaga or Mrs. Pac-man back at the cabin. There’s something about being surrounded by God’s creation that is very conducive to the thought process.

First, I thought about Luke because hearing him announce his bunion was probably the funniest series of events this side of the Mason Dixon Line. Then I wondered why I like to pepper my writing with Civil War era references. I thought about how much I bawled when I had to do Luke’s put-ups and then, remembered that I was to be put through that same ceremony in a few hours.

Even when I opened my eyes to observe the amazing worship experience going on around me that night in the cabin, I couldn’t see Cousin John for all the raised hands and sobs could be heard in the pauses between songs. Praise echoed off the walls loud and sincere, as close to the supreme and absolute surrender God deserves, as I have ever been involved in. There is no doubt the Holy Spirit was among us.

There was an energy left in the room as our worship time ended and put-ups were about to begin. Put-ups were a mix of remembering laughs we’d had together, life-impacting moments and wishes for the future. I could tell you exactly what everyone said about each other, I could tell you how many people cried, how much I didn’t want it to end, but it was truly something you had to be there for.

The next morning we packed up and loaded onto the bus like any other trip, but we knew it wasn’t just another return trip home. This was the last one, in a lot of ways, for a lot of people and one that all of us will remember.

CoJack