Finding Jesus
“You made me feel like I mattered.”

Those words cut through me like a knife to my soul. After a chance encounter in Corydon with one of our former café’ regulars this young women said, “You and Preston made me feel like I mattered.” Now we know her story. It’s like many we see in this world gone mad. It is one of an absent father, one of drugs, of abuse and God knows what else? A father who spent her life in and out of jail and on more than one occasion of us having to call the police over her acting out, her drug abuse and violence.

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I Have Always Been the Fat Kid

I have always been the fat kid. The one that everyone makes fun of, the one that’s the butt of all the jokes. I am the guy when people see coming that they are embarrassed by. I have suffered through that humiliation for probably 50 of my 57 years here on this earth. I remember that somewhere around the 7th grade laying my head down on my desk as a half dozen tormentors beat me. They were careful to punch and kick only where my clothes were, so not to get into trouble. This was their “Initiation.”  Initiation to what, I’m not sure. I remember the bruises. And, I remember crying.

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