A Birthday Blessing

It's my son's birthday.

He's 36 which throws me for a bit of a loop because there's no way I'm old enough to have a son that old but ... I do.

He's had quite a year ... full of transitions, tragedy, accomplishments, frustrations and surprises but seems to have landed in a pretty sweet spot.

He was the recipient of a divorce, lost his best friend in a tragic accident, moved from his dream apartment to student housing, won scholarships, is perilously close to graduating with his Ph.D. and was surprised to find love.

That's a lot in a year.

Jeremy handled them with a grace and determination that leaves me proud though most likely view him as unconventional.

Three things left a big impression on me.

For a man who hasn't made his mind up on God he maintained a devote grace Priests and Preachers would kill for ... never turning to anger or hate but instead accepting and relying on those who love him ... which is one of the hardest things to do in life.

When his best friend Matthew Wilkerson was tragically killed driving home from work ... Jeremy exploded in grief and then pulled it all together to do the things Matt would have needed and wanted ... focusing on Jen and the kids ... helping with all of the details death brings ... and then delivering a eulogy Priests and Preachers would kill for ... and I know drew love and laughter from Matt.

And when Terenca showed up from the past in the wake of Matt's death, Jeremy embracing love, two little girls and making plans for a whole new life.

This year Jeremy will graduate from the University of Georgia, already his alma mater, and I'm looking forward to watching whatever that means.

Sarah's much bigger on birthday celebrations than I am ... to me it's just another day ... but I try to listen to her and understand what a blessing my son is to the world ... just like her little blessings ... so I'm  mustering up all of my clerical best to wish you Happy Birthday Son.

You are loved beyond description.

Terenca and the rest of us will let you know that.

I love you.

Lots of people do.

Hanging Out

Back when I was a "Professional Christian" at the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel, I mostly tried to figure out how to keep drunken homeless people from falling asleep during my Sunday morning sermon.

We did lots of crazy stuff and we must have been blessed because it worked more often than not.

Once on Easter morning we covered the stained glass windows with thick brown rolling paper so the Sanctuary was pitch black. Everyone had to reach out in darkness to find a pew to sit on and of course everyone fought to sit on the back row so there were lots of giggles and curses as people plopped down on one another.

A guitar was plucked as a lone voice sang, "Anybody here seen my good friend Martin?"

A lone candle was lit in the front of the Chapel and the entire earth was silent for a second.

"HE LIVES!" Cindy Weber screamed at the top of her lungs as the paper was ripped from the windows. Light exploded in the room as though Jesus himself were sashaying down the aisle.

"Hallelujah!"

"Shit!"

"Glory!"

"Stop hitting me!"

Those are the reactions I remember being said all at the same time.

We were a crazy Church doing crazy stuff.

But the most popular service of the year was my son's Jeremy's birthday.

Everyone loved Jeremy. He was the six year old who turned the Baptismal Pool into a bathtub! Homeless guys would lounge in it with him, candles lit, a Boom Box playing Jimmy Buffett as they all achieved a peace that passeth all understanding.

On the Sunday closest to his birthday, instead of preaching a sermon ... cause enough for a major celebration ... I read a letter I'd written to Jeremy.

Homeless men would cry in joy because (a) I wasn't preaching and (b) they all loved Jeremy and his sister Kristen. She blatantly took advantage of this by getting them to panhandle enough change so they would buy her a Happy Meal from McDonalds. Once, I found her with 5 at the same time surrounded by happy men.

Jeremy was never that way. He liked to just hang out with the guys.

Now, decades later, he still likes to simply hang out. We do it pretty naturally together. He's here now, grading papers for his students at the University of Georgia as we listen to Bob Dylan wonder "what's a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?"

Sarah wanders in and out. Her girls wanted to skip school today so they could hang out with him too. They're excited he's here and stayed up late to talk with him. He rode with me to take them to school and now we're just hanging out.

He flipped through my new book Sandy Bottoms & Duct Taped Hearts and said, "It's nice to read a book I've already read."

We have no real plans. There's a birthday party to attend tomorrow, some football to watch over the weekend, see his Mom and a few friends and drink some beers. We're just hanging out and I can't think of a better way to spend a weekend.
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