God and Wine

i hear words that pierce me. staring at the lips of the person who utters them whilst trying to make sense of such a profoundly overwhelming statement. how shall i respond to such praise? what words could i bother to muster up? what fake expression of gratitude could i attempt to plaster on my face? "you have such a gift," they say. i struggle to make sense of such a... compliment? if only they knew this gift was a burden. i like to believe that i'm learning to smile and say "thank you." there are moments when i'm successful; but mostly, i shrug my shoulders in a way i've perfected. i tilt my weary-full head to the side, as to suggest deep gratitude for the acknowledgement-- for the affirmation-- for the chance to share these coveted gifts that are burdens. i often try my best to escape the room post service-- to hastily leave my gifts at the altar... or the pulpit. oh, how i wish to disappear into thin air after s

I learned a lot about ministry while I was bartending. People have NEEDS, okay! Ha! They NEED their cheeseburger medium-rare with no cheese, side Bleu cheese crumbles, no sauces, side mayo, extra pickles, okay! They NEED their martini filthy dirty, with extra olives on the side. Just drink the olive juice out the carton, why don't you?! They NEED their fries extra crispy or their salad finely chopped or their world will come tumbling down, shattering into a million pieces. Oh yes! I learned a lot about ministry while bartending. I learned how to plaster a smile on my weary face so that I'd get a good tip from Rick Ross (he left me $100 one time). I learned how to put up with vindictive managers who hated their jobs and, thus, took it out on us. I learned how to eat one meal a day in between a 14 hour shift. I learned how to carry 3 hot plates with 16oz bone-in prime ribs on them without dropping them, AND to dodge rowdy, undisciplined kids who were sprinting arou