When I graduated high school I had no idea that I would be a minister. Honestly, the two pressing possibilities were singer/songwriter and baseball coach. I loved weaving words and feelings together to tell a story, make a point, and move the listener. And I likewise loved strategically thinking my way around the diamond, reading the situation, making decisions, and setting folks up to succeed. Turns out that as a senior pastor I get to do a lot of those things almost daily. The same passions and pursuits come in more than handy in the daily office that I treasure and take very seriously. But no frontman or skipper can do it alone. And if he could, what would it matter? Loving what you do and the people you do it with is the secret to good music and good baseball.

As I jot down these lines, there is an Allied moving truck unloading boxes and furniture for the newest addition to our ministry team, Rev. John Rice and his wife Sara, dog Presley, and a three-legged cat whose name escapes me. (What are the odds that your senior and associate pastor would both have a three-legged Maine Coon? A sign?)

I cannot begin to tell you how blessed I feel to have John and Sara ready to call St. Pete and its First Baptist Church home. As you may have heard, Rev. Rice is a graduate of Southern Seminary, which has a special place in my heart and history back in the day. He has served churches well from Florida to D.C. to Kentucky and back to Florida again. He is deeply respected in ministry circles and has a proven track record empowering churches and their staffs to maximize their ministry potential. That’s a good thing because that is what we are asking him to help do here.

Some Bible stories ring so true that the protagonist, the object or the lesson becomes part of our everyday language. Most states have a Good Samaritan law to protect people who are trying to offer aid to someone in immediate need. Small but sacrificial gifts are still known as a widow’s mite. And everyone knows – or has been – the prodigal son. That’s the son who had it all, wanted more and wasted what he had. It’s the child that breaks the parent’s heart and sees life sink to a place they never could have imagined, but their family did. That’s the son who, in time, will want to come home, but is unsure if he can. We all have seen that sort of son. Some of us have lived it.

I have to confess that every time I pass a Chick-fil-A I have this urge to pull into what is usually a crowded parking lot or backed up drive through. Oddly, the lemonade is my favorite staple there, closely followed by the breakfast burrito. I used to crave the sandwiches and waffle fries, but as John Denver sang, “The Lord and wife wouldn’t think it’s very good.” Neither do my doctors … So what draws me in? It’s the unfailing personal experience that emerges from a culture which assumes personal responsibility for the experience of another over and above their own.