Thursday, June 10, 2010


Journal for Christa—

The tongue in cheek conversation began something like this:

The youth pastor (aka-the son): Yeah, your journals—kind of have a lot of—fluff.

The parishioner who doesn’t do anything (aka-the mother): They’re not “fluff”—besides you’ve never read them.

TYP: I’ve read almost every one.

TPWDDA: Really,—well, they aren’t full of “fluff.”

TYP: (coyly spoken) They’re—very relational—

TPWDDA: Women like that.

TYP: They’re rather light—

TPWDDA: Women like that too.

TYP: And—another word for “light” is—?

TPWDDA: They’re not “fluff.” I write for women who already know the Bible. They just need a little encouragement—to know that there’s light at the end of the tunnel—in about 20 years.

TYP: Twenty years? That’s encouraging.

As I listened to the youth pastor’s sermon on Sunday morning, I was reminded of how like-minded we actually are. We should minister where we are; we should minister according to what we think God’s will is. So, I’ll keep writing journals for now—“fluff” and all. What can a youth pastor expect from a parishioner who doesn’t do anything?

1 comment:

  1. What he calls fluff I call the little nuances of life that shape our days and determine how much we cry out for God. Who hasn't broken down in frustration over something small that was the straw that broke our backs on a particularly rough day? "Fluff" is in the eye of the beholder.