Quick Change of Subject...

We will get back to the Workings of the Holy Ghost in a little bit... but just for a second I need to talk to you about something...

Over the last week a young man in my church, Curtis McLaughlin had an accident, in which he fell. I am not clear on all the details (I will add comments as I find out more), but ultimately after being sent home an infection developed in is spine and has now spread to his brain. He just got out of surgery, where they removed a portion of him skull to relieve some of the pressure from the swelling.

Curtis is only 16-17 years old.

As I write this, Curtis is in an induced coma for the next 47.5 hours. Curtis is in desperate need of your prayers. Being so young and having so much ahead of him, only worsens the blow of such a tragedy.

I must say Curtis is a great guy. Although I don’t know Curtis all that well, he always has been involved. Now typically he was the funny, lazy sidekick, but was always there. Recently during our Easter Program he played an angel that removed the stone from the tomb of Jesus. Curtis is ALWAYS involved.

To be honest with you, I am stricken. For one of the first times in my life, I don’t have much to say. All my words seem to be lacking. Every time I open my mouth what comes out doesn’t console, doesn’t fix, doesn’t heal, and doesn’t help. I am at a complete loss.

In August I lost my father. He was 51 and died of Lung Disease. My dad had been sick for a long time. Since I was a child he had either been hurt or sick. But the real agony for him and my family started in 94 when he got to the point he couldn’t work. In 96 he had a liver transplant.

With my father always being sick, to be honest, I became calloused to it. Dad was in the hospital... it really didn’t faze me. Dad went in for a double bypass... Call me when he’s done. Dad goes in for back surgery... Let me know if he’s ok. He being in the hospital was second nature to me. It was the norm. Even today the process of death for my father is almost surreal. It has hit me every now and then. When I need some advice about my car, I can’t call the best mechanic in the US. Some times I think, "You know I haven’t called my Dad in a while... I wonder what he's up to." Just to come to the disappointing realization, that I can’t call him.

I would be lying if I said; I had mourned the loss of my father. I would be telling you a lie if I said that I am fine with how calloused I turned to my fathers health. I would rather die 1000 deaths a day than to have had the calloused emotions, of a son with a forever sick, ill, dying father. Everyday I realize a little more what I lost by not being involved in the death of my father.

But with Curtis it is different. This young man wasn’t sick. This kid had only tasted life. He had only experienced a small amount of what even I have experienced. There’s a chance he won’t even marry. There’s a chance he won’t ever graduate college. There’s a chance he won’t ever have children. There’s a chance he won’t ever have hi son crawl into his lap and wrap his arms around his neck and tell him how much he loves him.

And somehow all these thoughts help me mourn my father. They rip away the calluses in my heart. The remove the distance I placed between me and my father’s death. Today I feel as if my Dad has died all over again. It is today that I begin my mourning. It is today that my dad died. It is today my heart fills empty.

Thank you Curtis for helping my dad die.

And although I fear Curtis's death I am reminded of the story of the Ruler whose daughter was dead at home. He came to Jesus and asked him to come and lay hands on her that she may rise from the dead. Immediately Jesus rose along with the disciples and followed him.

But during his exit, the woman with the issue of blood came behind him and touched the hem of his garment. Jesus turned, answered her prayer and once again followed the Ruler to his daughter’s bedside. You realize that if the ruler had not come, Jesus might not ever have risen, the crowd might never have parted to let him through, and the sick old women might not have gotten close enough to touch Jesus.

For me, a similar thing has happened. Jesus is on his way to heal a young man whose chances of living are small. But along the way, he turned and answered my prayer. Christ has healed my calluses. He has reunited me with my father, and I was able to let him go.

Now as you left that woman and continued on to heal the Rulers daughter, go and heal Curtis. He could use your help about now.

Thanks Bro, for getting Jesus’ attention to turn your way, and heal me.