Final Communique?

With the internship drawing to a close (sort of) does that mean the end of this blag? You wish. No, I will continue to write here, like some mindless thrall. Working away long after serving its purpose.

Sinus Trifecta

First, a sore throat due to congestion.

Next, a stuffed nose and more congestion.

Now, ear infection, with a side order of congestion.

Reflections of Camp

All in all camp was fun. I had a great time with my co-counselors, and if the kids were focused than meaningful things happened. The nature hike (which I did every day) was good exercise, and it kept me humble. Each day I asked the group what they would rather be doing. The previous night the activity that they wanted to do the next day was already full, so they chose hiking instead.

The food was fried. All of it. I didn't know you could fry Macaroni, corn, and pickles, but apparently you can.

I also learned that screaming at little kids all day really helps you hit high notes when singing hymns!

Unfortunately, one of my campers (naturally the one who never stayed put) hurt his ankle when he collided with a girl holding a greased watermelon and it fell on top of his foot. But, with two heart conditions and a camper with epilepsy in my cabin, a hurt ankle is the least of my worries.

Counselor's log...

I have survived camp. Barely. Now I fight for my life against some unknown sickness. Or a cold. We'll see. Here is the notes I was able to jot down during all of the crazy. Word for word as they appear in my "journal."

Day 1
Saturday, June 28

We have started the journey toward Henderson. I must admit, I am agitated by the compulsion to write out my sermon. Preston and I will be giving a tag-team sermon, where one of us will speak, then the other, on the topic of mentors and community. It is not your standard sermon, so that is my excuse for not writing it out.

As I look out at the rolling hills, covered in dense vegetation, cut only by meandering rivers and the highway, cares seem to drift away. The sky, a never ending sea of blue, filled with herds of roaming cumulus clouds.

Its only the first day of this 6-day "excellent adventure," and I am already waxing poetic.


Day 2
Sunday, June 29

This morning Preston and I preached in Henderson. It was a good learning experience, even though the congregation wasn't very responsive. They assumed we knew what we were doing. They probably would have waited all day before telling me I needed to pray for the offering. I learned that I have to write my whole sermon before I feel comfortable with it.

The first day of camp got off to a rocky start. We arrived early, checked in late, and the camp was hit by a storm at check in, throwing everything into disarray. I was yelling myself hoarse trying to get my cabin to sleep, when the other counselor, Pastor John Warren, came in and led the group in prayer. Instantly the group calmed down.

I look forward to leading the group in a hike tomorrow.


Day 3
Monday, June 30

A restless night. Ironically, I was too cold. What is it about 6th and 7th graders and showers? The first person in the shower today was at 6:45 and he didn't get out until 7:05. The breakfast was good, but it seems I am perpetually late.

The nature hike was fun. I led the group around the lake, using a dirt road instead of the trail. One girl was amazed at how fast "an old man" like myself could walk faster than them. We also went in a prayer trail, where we prayed for some of their concerns. It was a solemn time of contemplation.

Now a pillow fight has broken out, and it will continue until I become collateral damage. The kids think I am 40. I am pathetic.


That was the last recording. The journal was found caked in dry blood and tears. No word on the status of the author, although many say if you listen at night, you can hear him calling in vain for silence from unseen 7th grade campers...

Firey Irony

Yesterday Creative Arts Camp was brought to a hault as the fire department was called. Something had caught fire, filling the air with acrid smoke. The culprit? The very device designed to show the way to safety: an exit sign. Apparently, this is not the first time it's happened either. In fact, this the third incident in 2 years. Thankfully, the sign only smoldered, not doing any damage to anything but itself.

Fire safety, or ticking time bomb?

And they say irony is dead.

This is probably going to be my last communique for a while. See you on the other side.

Camp, Preach, Camp

This week and the next are/are going to be crazy.

After this week, I will have survived Creative Arts Camp. My job is to serve as one of the devotional leaders. Basically, devotional leaders (or devo-leaders if you prefer) provide spiritual insight for the campers, beyond what they learn in the musical they are learning. Did I forget to mention that the campers learn an original musical written by the music minister of the church? Yeah, and its good too. Campers also go to special interest groups where they learn how to build things, dance, play instruments, etc. Devotions leaders are the privileged few that get to see all of the campers, from 2nd to 7th grade. Its crazy.

Sunday, I will be "tag-team" preaching at a 20-30 person church in Henderson. That should be interesting considering I haven't written anything for it yet.

Next week I will be at Camp. With a capital "c". The real deal, with A/C cabins and everything. I get to be a counselor for junior high kids. Knowing this, nobody get mad that I don't post for a while. I nearly drown in the amount of negative feedback I get when I don't update my blag (hint of sarcasm).

Unless something happens, I will keep a realog (as opposed to a weblog) and post that when I get back. Wish me luck.

By the way, if you noticed, I put some pictures in my older posts. If you had not noticed, they were there the whole time.

Shack

For those of you interested, read "The Shack" by William P. Young. Its pretty good, I consider it to be C.S. Lewis' "Mere Christianity" in fiction form. It has to do with the problem of evil, relationship with all parts of the Trinity, and relationship with others. Like I said, its pretty good.

Check it out here.

Deer, oh dear...

Deer blag readers,

It has been an endeering opportunity to right this blog for all of those close and deer to me. Okay, that's enough for now.

Seriously though, there are more deer here than I have ever seen. I have seen deer circle and surround a group of youth, kept back only with the use of a campfire and towels... It was terrible. Not to mention I saw a deer run down a hunting dog and stomp its back with its hooves. Worse, the mini-dachshund I live was attacked in its own backyard. Is nothing safe?

They are always watching.

OK Corral

After Round 2, it seems as though the buffet/salmonella breeding ground "Golden Corral" has won yet again. For those of you confused, check earlier posts. In fact, read all of them. Please. I am desperate for attention.

Last time I unwittingly walked into my own demise, thinking it was just another buffet. This time, we were invited to go to the retired pastor's lunch (there are quite a few of them), and we could not refuse. I will say that I had a bad feeling in my gut, as my stomach groaned in futile protest. Last time lunch was at Abuelos. This time, not so much.

In the face of such sheer adversity, I boldly (read: foolishly) ladled myself a cup of clam chowder to start the meal off. I was barely able to finish my red velvet cake for dessert before my stomach imploded.

Next time we have lunch is at CiCi's.

Moon Shine

Here is my requisite post, and a bit of Baseball history. I hope you enjoy it.

Wally Moon was a Major League Baseball player for the St. Louis Cardinals and the Los Angeles Dodgers from1954-1965. The game he made his debut, the crowd was chanting, "We want Slaughter!" Out of context one might think baseball back then was a lot more action packed. However, Enos Slaughter was the name of the player Wally replaced. Despite this icy welcome, Wally's first at-bat was a home run.

His impressive list of achievements includes:

• 2x All Star Selection
• 2X World Series champion
• Gold Glove winner
• 1954 NL rookie of the year

Wally is a member of the church I work at, and recently underwent hip-replacement surgery. I had the honor to meet and pray for Wally the other day, which explains why I went to Wikipedia to look all of this up.

Wally's baseball card.

Obligatory Post

Because I feel obligated to, here is a post.

Not much to report... I did kill a monster cockroach yesterday though.

There I was, innocently minding my own lazy business on the coach, when, out of nowhere, this prehistoric beast was upon me! It crawled along the floor near the walls, dazed and confused due to the light, its unholy eyes unused to it. The size of a small dog, this creature of the night looked as though it had recently scuttled from its nest deep within the bowels of the sewer system, in order to carry off some small child on its carapace.

I immediately sprung to action. Having on only leather top-siders, I knew that stepping on the monster would only provoke it. Instead, I lunged for the nearest magazine stack. As this "fell-roach" drew close, I let loose a volley of light reading in order to stun it. After a direct hit from Southern Living, I was able to end its foul reign. Antennae flailed uselessly in the air from beneath the glossy pages of the magazine. Never again would it see the oozing walls of its dark subterranean lair.

Cockroach: 0
Me: 1

Who?

Many of you (read: the few that read my blag) may have been wondering where I have been for the past eight days, because clearly I have not posted anything in that time. Well, I have been very busy (read: I have no other good excuse).

This past week I gave a "sermonette" at the Conference Headquarters chapel service, been to many a meeting, ate at the "Golden Corral" buffet (read: got sick at the "Golden Corral" buffet), and ate at a place that served chicken and waffles. I got a croissant sandwich and a bottomless cup of coffee. In case you were wondering.

This coming week should prove to be interesting. I should be learning about how to write liturgy, and there will be a fish fry on Saturday. So I am looking forward to it.

It is interesting how meaningless all of these things are on the Internet. After all, I could easily use Facebook or Myspace and act hip and with it. But then again when have I ever been hip or with it? What is it anyway (answer: it's it)?

So anyway, those of you I have not put to sleep with the trivialities of my week may be wondering, "what does the title of this post mean?"

I heard an owl outside before I started typing. That and I am uncreative.

Give a hoot! Read this blog!

Something Squirrelly...

The other day I went with the associate Pastor of the church as he went to give communion to the nursing homes of the areas. The second home we visited had a chapel with pews, a piano, and stained glass windows. As the elderly folks were coming in in preparation for the service, one of them, a new resident, told the associate pastor, "my, what a big person you are!" He is indeed a very large person, being well over 6 feet. He took it in stride and continued to introduce himself.

The service went well, we sang a few hymns, received communion, and watched as squirrels tried to find their way into the chapel through the stained glass windows. They would scamper along the ledge next to the window, stand up and try to find an opening, then move a few windows over. I joke now that they were just trying to find Jesus, but they were doing a poor job of it. After all, Jesus was in the window below them.

Fleas Please

Since arriving in Bryan, it seems that I have developed some sort of animal "magnetism." What I mean is that every house we visit invariably has an animal or two. Or three. One if not all of these animals will find me, and sit in my lap, preparing to be pet. In fact, I am constantly visited by an allergic cat before bed. That's right, a cat with allergies. So far two of these pets have been discovered to have fleas. By me. As I was petting them.

Possible gift idea: Flea Collar.

Calm before the Storm

Only a few days until I go to Houston for Annual Conference. Until then I am enjoying the time of relative peace. After next week, each Sunday will be spent teaching, preaching (at a different church, for one Sunday), and making appearances.

Cows and Grass

It sounds like the title of a bad country western song. Although that's assuming there is such a thing as a GOOD country western song.

It was late Friday afternoon. After a long drive from the intern retreat we stopped at a farm in west Texas. There we were greeted by a Sunday School class from the church. We were offered cookies, drinks, and a tour of the cows and grass.

So there we were, two interns and a group of fifteen or so elderly members of the church on trailers carried by a tractor and a four wheeler. We traveled along the dirt road out to the pastures where the cows were grazing on the aforementioned grass, until we "hopped" the fence and were face to face with future steaks. The imagery was thick with metaphors and mortality. The sun high overhead beating down on the country safari. The cows, dumbly staring and mooing at those who would one day eat them. A gun shot goes off in the distance (later to be discovered to be our host pastor killing a water moccasin). Across the road, a cemetery. Whitman couldn't make this stuff up.

Although if he did, it would be a lot better than I could ever say it.

Sweet Internet

Sweet Internet, oh how I longed for you.

After a few days without blagging, this may seem like cheating, but this post is short because I am savoring my connection.

Shanghaid!

This internship for the Methodist church is not starting well. Going on about 7 hours sleep, I desperately need to go to bed, but here I am blagging. It probably doesn't help that I just finished a cup of coffee a few minutes ago. I was in the lobby trying to get some change for the vending machine when Pastor Chappelle Temple (great friend and mentor) invited me to go get coffee with him and his family. Naturally I agreed (I wonder if the unhelpful front desk worker is wondering where I am?) and spent the next 45 minutes driving around Galveston looking for an open coffee shop at 10:00. Needless to say, epic fail. Defeated, we settled on Sonic "Premium Roast," and cut our losses. Now, I eagerly await the 8:00 AM IHOP breakfast, where I shall drink my fill of coffee.

By the way, if that's not the correct spelling in the post title, sorry.

Intro

Its 2008, and blogging or "web logging" is in vogue. So I have jumped on the blog wagon and am taking my first feeble steps into the dark, murky, cesspool that is The Internets. I will try to update this blag as much as possible as I have crazy thoughts, travels, and experiences. Yes, I will refer to this as a blag. Because I can. Join me as I continue my crazy trek through life with detours down Memory Lane and Forgetful Avenue.

Yes it is a weird title for a blog. But this is a blag, so its cool.

-Patrick