The Green Mile

One of the most moving movies I've ever watched was the "Green Mile," staring Tom Hanks (as Paul Edgecomb) and Michael Clarke Duncan (as John Coffey Like the drink just not spelled the same"). Paul Edgecomb is a slightly cynical veteran prison guard on Death row (called the green mile because the floor is green) in the 1930's. His faith, and sanity, deteriorated by watching men live and die, Edgecomb is about to have a complete turn around in attitude. Enters John Coffey, He's eight feet tall. He has hands the size of shovels. He's been accused of the murder and rap of two little white girls... and he's afraid to sleep in a cell without a night-light. And Edgecomb, as well as the other prison guards - Brutus, a sympathetic guard, and Percy, a stuck up, perverse, and violent person, are in for a strange experience that involves intelligent mice, brutal executions, and the revelation about Coffey's innocence and the true God-give gift he is.

Well today is thanksgiving day and the last few weeks I've felt a little like Mr. John Coffey. Having this special gift that God has given to "take back" others pain but struggle greatly with my own. Able to be compassionate and sympathy with others but not know how to manage my own. While being on my own "Green Mile," you see no matter the awesome gift John possessed it had become an burden "taken back" others pain but having no one to "take back" his. Being a pastor one of your responsibilities is to be there for the members of your flock as the under shepherd and help carry their burdens but what has always been a joy has become an overwhelming burden because of my own stuff.

The battle with grief is real but it grows during the holidays. Grief become magnified. My "Green Mile" has been my incarceration has been one of emotional and psychological struggles. In my 45years of life today will be the the first Thanksgiving my daddy won't be cooking and serving dinner. Will be the first in recent years that we won't attend the city-wide thanksgiving service together. The first time that his house won't be full of laughter and stories of the "good old days." The smell food and we won't taste his rice dressing.

But today I will say I am and will always be thankful for the memories.