Counting calories is a bunch of crap. Some might say it’s for the birds. But birds can’t count. That I know of.

Not Just At Starbucks
I found that once I turned 25, my weight was something I had to manage. Up until that point, I could pretty much eat whatever I wanted in whatever quantity I desired and I’d always weigh about 175. It’s different now. I still eat whatever I want, but I have to work to keep my weight in the “normal” range. I’m a Taco Bell fiend and my Taco Bell obsession is costly – in time and sweat. Every week, I have to run miles and miles to ensure my stomach doesn’t take the shape of a Mexican Pizza. If you ever see me running through Nashville, it’s not because I like it. It’s because the Nachos Bell Grande has 1,300 calories in it. Grande calories = grande miles.

Nice Try, Buddy!
I decided to start tweeting about every trip I make to Taco Bell in an effort to shame myself into quitting. So far it hasn’t worked. In fact, other people, after reading my tweets, have been seduced into a 4th Meal and making a run for the border. They then post tweets blaming me for derailing their healthy eating habits.

I should protest Taco Bell. They have some of the worst commercials known to man. They use grade-D meat in their “food” (that’s made-up – don’t quote me on that). I think Fancy Feast cat food has higher quality meat (that’s also a lie). Point is, my poor eating decisions are starting to eat away at ME. I have this nagging feeling inside me that I need to stop. Although, that feeling could be the jalepeno sauce on the chicken quesadilla. I can’t be sure.

A number of times in the past month, I’ve said, “Ok, this is my last trip to Taco Bell. I’m starting my new workout program tomorrow.” How many diets never see “tomorrow?” The cycle must be broken. I’m breaking it. I’m done with Taco Bell.

I’m writing this tonight to my friends that I’ve unduly influenced with my Taco Bell habits. My ways are changing. I’ll be eating cauliflower, broccoli, and red peppers from now on. Follow my example!

But just real quick, I need to make a run to Taco Bell. My diet starts tomorrow.

On Saturday, I found out about a situation that unfolded a while back where a well-known 60-something pastor was put on blast by a guy in his 30s. The 30-something sarcastically dressed down this pastor (and several other pastors) with biting language bordering on viciousness. You may know the situation I speak of, but there’s no need to name names in the comments. It’s not important who the parties were.

What I’m concerned with is my OWN heart – and YOUR heart. Believe it or not, my heart has never really felt at home in church. Since I heard about Him, I’ve always connected with Jesus, but often not church. Many of us had or currently have issues with the church.

As I wrote the 30-something guy a letter (which I never sent), it occurred to me the letter could easily be addressed to me. I’m not often angry, but am disillusioned frequently. Instead of post the letter, I re-purposed it from the point-of-view of the 60-something pastor and how HE might respond to 20- and 30-somethings frustrated with church. These are the words and thoughts I attempted to teach myself tonight.

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I’m a 65-year old pastor. I’ve been serving Jesus Christ for 40 years – longer than most of you reading this have been alive. I’ve long been perplexed with how frustrated you are with me and my generation for “messing up the Church.” My sons and daughters, are you so sure you know how things ought to be run? Do you know why your soul is so thirsty? I will freely admit to you that I’ve been largely clueless about how to run my church. I’ve listened for God’s voice to the best of my ability with other people in this congregation. But imperfection has been my constant companion since the day I first arrived here. I haven’t done everything right. But I’ve done everything the best way I knew.

Like Joshua, I too will soon go the way of all the earth. My lungs will breathe no more and you will inherit the church which was, for a season, entrusted to me. My children, you will see that flock work is work indeed. The babies you today kiss on the forehead will tomorrow call you a hippie, send you angry emails, and leave your church in frustration. It will happen many times and break your heart at every occurrence.

In all your current anger, you imagine yourselves the clearinghouse of truth. It is not so. Just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you’re right. When you imagine you’re “exposing” the hypocrisy of the church, you expose more about the bitterness in your own heart. When you imagine you’re creating a movement of other like-minded people, you’re really just rallying more and more to divisiveness and discord. Your life is not characterized by peace, but war.

Perhaps I have messed up, my children, and led this church poorly. Perhaps I really am the cause of these problems. And, if so, perhaps it is for this reason: that you might know the truth. Your hearts are not clean. My messed up life may have existed to make you this way – that you might see your heart and be so dismayed with its helplessness that you’re forced to talk with God Himself, to inquire why such a depth of negative emotion exists in you for mistaken infractions that were not intended for your harm.

If the measure of your emotion is so great that you can’t explain it, perhaps there are other flammables that are blazing hot in the hidden corners of your heart – problems for which I am not responsible but problems that increase your anger toward me. Pursue the reasons for your discontent because that will lead you to the reason church exists. The firefighter of your heart is Jesus Himself – not cooler leaders, not new worship music, not different preaching, not better programs. You will never assuage the anger in your heart with written or verbal abuse.

Sons and daughters, I assure you it is not an enjoyable life to suck on lemons every day. Your protesting heart is not against me. It is against anything that keeps you from God. I do not believe you could name a punishment for me to endure that would atone for your frustrations. The problem is bigger than me. But in whatever ways I’ve kept you from Him, I sincerely apologize. It has been unintentional. Remember, I am only a man. God will cover my mistakes. Do not allow your previous energy spent in anger toward me to prolong your absence from Him. Ask God to make clear the path forward and restore your heart that you may be bitter no longer. “Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, ‘I find no pleasure in them.’” (Ecclesiastes 12:1). Someday, perhaps you will be the 65-year old writing letters to young adults. Have something powerful to tell them about our God. I entrust you to Him.

My buddy recently asked a girl out on a date and this is what happened. I write it from his perspective. If you’re inclined to be offended by this, please don’t be. Just take this for what it is…a guy who wanted to spend some time with a girl. Better luck next time, brohammer!

the un-bargain: a poem
by andy merrick

i went to tj maxx
and wanted to buy stuff
but everything in the store
cost a hundred bucks

i went to the burrito shop
and wanted tasty treats
but all they had to serve there
were filipino eats

i visited an airport
banking on a flight
but nary any aircraft
drifted into sight

took a trip to disneyworld
expecting mickey mouse
but was told upon arrival
he wasn’t in the house

when i was turning 16
my dad had a surprise
what all teenagers dream of
a fat, fantastic ride

today, i asked you on a date
established where and when
and you somehow decided
to invite your friend

but let me tell you now
how tricked teens and i feel
nobody wants to drive
a car that has three wheels.

I have just a few more things I want to say about what I learned in Chicago at Chase’s funeral.

Music is Powerful
For the funeral, a friend of Alex and mine played a song he wrote about losing a loved one. At noon on Saturday, we arrived early at the church so he could soundcheck. Amidst row after row of empty pews, I sat in the sanctuary alone. The sound man wasn’t ready, so our friend began to play his guitar and sing his song acoustically.

It seemed the music triggered something. I immediately started crying. Tears of mourning feel contradictory. They’re the result of great pain but seem to bring calm and healing. I could feel the place beneath my heart calm – like someone put their hands inside me and said, “Shhhhhh,” in a gentle way, “it’s ok to cry.” I kept saying to myself, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” not wanting to really believe Chase was gone.

In 1 Samuel 15, Saul, the king of Israel, is rejected by God because of his wickedness. The Spirit of the Lord departs Saul and an evil spirit torments him. His servants suggest finding someone who can play the harp so that when the evil spirit comes, someone can play music that makes Saul feel better. One of the servants remembers a young boy he knows named David. So they call David to enter Saul’s service. And whenever the evil spirit “came upon Saul, David would take his harp and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him” (1 Samuel 16:23).

Music is outrageously powerful. It has the ability to help us heal. If one of your friends has a loved one die, think of a couple songs or albums you feel would help them – slow, somber songs that will match the tone of their soul. For most people, I learned music that’s too loud or too busy is too much. The grieving heart isn’t ready for Soundgarden. It needs garden sounds. Think of some music and then buy it for them (using the Gift this Song feature in iTunes is helpful).

Connections Are Quick
For the friends and family who gather for any period of time beyond the funeral, the connections and friendships are instant. I finally met a number of Alex’s friends and family he’d talked about for years. I’ll be friends with them for life. When people are mourning, the masks come off. We see each other as a bunch of vulnerable humans who are lost and need each other. If you’re concerned that you don’t know very many of your friend’s friends and family, don’t worry. You’ll be hugging them in very short order. There’s a bond you’ll form that is unexplainable – a bond that only shared suffering can produce. It’s like the bond Ruth formed with Naomi after both their husbands died.

Activities Are Therapeutic
If you’re comforting a friend, suggest going out to do things they like. Don’t push them too hard, but keep suggesting things. On various days in Chicago, we went to favorite restaurants, the beach, and to a Cubs game. Even swinging golf clubs in the front lawn was an event.

Table for Two, Game for Five
On the night we went to the Cubs game, we bought six tickets. Prior to leaving to go downtown, one of the guys canceled. We called about 10 people in Chicago to see if they wanted to join us. No one was available. We ended up with one unused ticket. The empty seat became symbolic – as if Chase really was with us. As they often say: gone, but not forgotten.

The End
After someone you love dies, you’ll never be the same. Their bodily disappearance seems to take part of you with them. But the gifts of the grave are the innumerable ways you change. If you have photos from the days after you lost someone, look at them carefully. The somber expression on your face hides the reality. Those are some of the most violent photos of upheaval you own. Those were the days God was very tangibly making you a different person.

I honor Chase’s memory by saying, in truth, that my life is changed. I am a different person today than I was when I woke up on September 8, 2009. And I continue to be changed because of Chase – in what I’ve written in this series, in private ways I don’t want to share, and in unknown ways I cannot yet express. His death is bringing me life. I thank Jesus for the work He’s doing in me because of Chase and his family.

I love Alex. I still don’t know what to do. These have been days I wish had never come but days I will never forget. There must be better ones ahead – days of pictures with happy hearts and smiles and laughing on the golf course and dreams coming true. I’ve always believed in Alex – most especially now.

My final encouragement to you, dear reader: if your friend loses a loved one, do not hesitate to plant yourself close to them. These are sacred days. You will not regret one second you spend by their side. However imperfect or ill-equipped you may feel, imperfectly be their help. Just be there.