Everyone's Waiting

i watched the last episode of Six Feet Under tonight--left me feeling sad and complete and empty. Death was always a "character" in the show, and here we weren't left any pretensions that our characters escape the fate that awaits us all. It was beautiful to see everyone's final moments. What an idea for a finale. If you're a fan, and you want more---go to the HBO website, they have some neat stuff, including some "inside the script" things that are pretty cool, and the obits for the characters.

Lewis Center

I just took a survey here, it looks like a good site so I'm going to save it here for later. You can look at it too.

The Ego has Landed

There aren't so many things as humbling as busting your ass in front of a bunch of teenagers.
This happened to me today: I was shooting hoops out behind the church and one of the balls flew over the chained link fence. When playing with Wesley the week before, I had simply lept the fence instead of walking all the way around. So, of course I think nothing about going for it again. Except this time, I didn't raise my feet high enough, and one of my shoes caught the top of the fence--which caused my upper torso to go flying toward the ground where my feet were supposed to be. I hit with a thud and a "uuugh" (which was the wind going out from my lungs) It didn't hurt, but still, it looked really stupid. I noticed one of the girls looking at another teenager like they really wanted to laugh, but didn't know if it was okay. So I started laughing, and then we all had a good laugh. I made a joke about "my ups" the next time I went up for a shot, and that got a few laughs too. Now the only thing is, my wrist really hurts.
The whole scenario got me thinking of embarassment. It has been a while since I've been embarassed. On the other hand, I don't really feel that embarassed. I more feel sorry for them because now they're probably going to think of me flopping over the fence when they see me, and that must be a hard thing to square with someone you should respect and admire. (I am their pastor, after all). In other words, I'll get over it and probably not remember it in a month or two, but can they ever again relate to me as a pastor without cringing in that embarassed for me, "wanting to laugh but not sure I should" memory?
Perhaps the ego hasn't landed quite yet in my case--They probably don't occupy much of their time or mental energy thinking about me anyway, I suppose. Of course, I do kind of get up and speak for 15 minutes in front of them every week. Of course, they are usually more concerned wiht their text messages than me anyway. Hmmmmm....Does this make sense? I took a pain pill because of my wrist!
Happy trails!