My friend Winston at the Teahouse had this on his site. It is wonderful!!!
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
Go to Dancing Matt's site or here for more info on Dancing Matt.
Another one
Another death by ruptured aorta. Slobodan "Slobo" Ilijevski died Monday. My birthday, oddly. He was 58.
I remember watching this guy play soccer in the '80s. He was a goalie for the indoor soccer team in St. Louis. I remember wanting to buy his jersey. I've always been more attracted to defenders. The glory always goes to those who score goals, runs, or points of any kind. Defense is usually under appreciated. He was so fun to watch. He, and the rest of the Steamers were a part of the reason I love soccer so much.
It is such a strange feeling to read about deaths like this. I mean, there is the obvious grief of reading about the death of someone you remember from your youth. But with a death like this, there is so much more. He died of something I have survived multiple times. Saying "Man, I was lucky" gets really old after a while. The fact that I am still alive is unfathomable. All i can do is shake my head, go get more coffee, and get ready for physical therapy.
Well, that and say a prayer for his family and a prayer of thanksgiving for mine. I am really lucky and chances are, if you are reading this, you are part of my family and I love you very much.
Maybe I'll try to work through more of this later. But for now, Suzanne is coming. Time for PT.
I remember watching this guy play soccer in the '80s. He was a goalie for the indoor soccer team in St. Louis. I remember wanting to buy his jersey. I've always been more attracted to defenders. The glory always goes to those who score goals, runs, or points of any kind. Defense is usually under appreciated. He was so fun to watch. He, and the rest of the Steamers were a part of the reason I love soccer so much.
It is such a strange feeling to read about deaths like this. I mean, there is the obvious grief of reading about the death of someone you remember from your youth. But with a death like this, there is so much more. He died of something I have survived multiple times. Saying "Man, I was lucky" gets really old after a while. The fact that I am still alive is unfathomable. All i can do is shake my head, go get more coffee, and get ready for physical therapy.
Well, that and say a prayer for his family and a prayer of thanksgiving for mine. I am really lucky and chances are, if you are reading this, you are part of my family and I love you very much.
Maybe I'll try to work through more of this later. But for now, Suzanne is coming. Time for PT.
Return to work.
Well, I went back to work/church today. It was a nice time. I started the day off with Eucharist. Junior Female Pastor prayed over me. I then wandered around the city and ran some errands. When I got back to work/church, I sat in with Junior Male Pastor (JMP) and talked. Now, JMP and I have become pretty close. It is weird to discover that someone that you look up to as a mentor looks up to you too. JMP and I had a long conversation about my recent adventures. Turns out, he was pretty shook up about the whole thing. Of course, the entire staff was, but JMP and I worked together the closest and spent the most time together. He has spent quite a bit of time pastoring sick folk. So, when lovely wife Mo told him how sick I'd gotten, he began to fear the worst. Turns out, that every time my name was mentioned in the staff meetings, everyone sort of held their breath, anticipating the worst. JMP talked to me about how simply surviving such an ordeal was a ministry to him. He told me I was his hero. He talked to me about how he saw such great faith in me; it took great faith to fight the illness. So often, he'd see people who would ask "Pastor, why doesn't God just take me to him? Why does he keep me here?" He told me how it took great faith on my part to fight to come back. Maybe someday I'll understand that comment. I kinda do, but I think I need to sit with it for a while.
So, after lunch, it was time for the noon service. Senior Pastor talked about his vacation; he and his wife went on a cruise to Alaska! Now, to be fair, this was his first vacation in over three years and it also was their 40th anniversary. So, don't start with the "Never trust a pastor with more than two suits" rhetoric. Anyway, after that we went into his office and talked about the ordination process. I won't bore you with the details, but I have a TON of work to do! But the conversation drifted a bit and I told him the story about the healing service in my hospital room. We started discussing it. We also talked about prayer. He asked" what exactly is it that happens?" "How does it work?" Part of me wishes I knew. Another part is glad it remains a holy mystery. Perhaps that's a cop out. If it is, too bad. I'm tired. I had a busy day at church/work today!
So, after lunch, it was time for the noon service. Senior Pastor talked about his vacation; he and his wife went on a cruise to Alaska! Now, to be fair, this was his first vacation in over three years and it also was their 40th anniversary. So, don't start with the "Never trust a pastor with more than two suits" rhetoric. Anyway, after that we went into his office and talked about the ordination process. I won't bore you with the details, but I have a TON of work to do! But the conversation drifted a bit and I told him the story about the healing service in my hospital room. We started discussing it. We also talked about prayer. He asked" what exactly is it that happens?" "How does it work?" Part of me wishes I knew. Another part is glad it remains a holy mystery. Perhaps that's a cop out. If it is, too bad. I'm tired. I had a busy day at church/work today!
Hospital thoughts
This is part of a larger piece that I am working on. It is a "spiritual biography." Whatever that is... Anyway, when I think part of it might be of interest to a larger audience, I'll put it up here. Feel free to comment. I'd like to know what you think!
My memory tells me the pastor wore a white robe. My wife tells me she wore a pink shirt and slacks. I remember that she was at the head of the bed with my whole family, including in-laws arrayed about my hospital bed, laying their hands on me. My memory is correct about that. They tell me that despite the tube down my throat, I mouthed the words to the service. That doesn’t surprise me; I had done this service before, so I knew it well. What I remember most clearly is the anointing. She had her hands on me, and then she took a balm of some sort and made the sign of the cross on my forehead. I remember feeling a wonderful warmth come over my body and a sensation of light going through me, piercing my chest and going skyward. I could actually feel the light! As it flowed through me and out my chest, it didn’t cause pain, it made me feel better. It was a feeling I had not felt before but somehow, I knew exactly what it was. I hesitate to name it for fear of minimizing it, somehow limiting it. It is indescribable, impossible to understand, but I think most call it the Holy Spirit.
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