Last night, after calling in sick and spending the whole day on my couch (cough cough), I went over to Musicman's house for dinner. Um, make your own spring rolls? This boy is amazing. Anyhow, one of his old friends is in town visiting. I met her back at his birthday party. I'm still nervous about his friends. I don't know what they think of me or what they think of us. Hell, I'm not even sure that I have answers to either of those questions. However, she was there and she cracks me up. Like spring roll falling back on the plate cracking up. She greets me with this huge hug and welcome. It was wonderful. I felt oddly affirmed... which I only really found amusing when I read this by my friend Father Stacy. See, this friend asked 153 questions when she found out that I was a pastor. Last night, I found out that she's been talking me up because church would be more interesting if people my age knew that there was leadership that (ya know) got it. Again, I'm amused.
Anyhow, this was when Musicman piped up and said he was coming to church on Sunday. I had just asked him if he would be willing -- even though he's gigging all weekend. Yes, gigging is a word for him. However, the next time I'm preaching my parents will be in town and (as I told him) that would just be too much for me. So I asked him to come to church. I swear to God. The boy lit up. He was elated that I had asked him to church. He didn't say anything but he's clearly pleased. And well, I think my sermon needs to be kick ass. It's done and I rather like it but I'm praying for the Holy Spirit to rock the Sanctuary on Sunday. It's selfish prayer, I know. I don't care.