Sterling Griggs

Memories are an amazing thing. Those moments that you have experienced in your life - the laughter, adventures, times you have felt most alive and daring - are things that no one can take away from you. Memories are God's ways of allowing us to hold on to the best of times so that we never have to let them go. Of course memories can serve a different purpose than just allowing us to revel in the past. When I was a kid, I can remember times when I wish I had made different decisions. Throwing a rock and hitting the neighborhood bully was one of those memories I wish I could forget. Yeah, he may have deserved it and if it wasn't me then it probably would have been someone else throwing that rock, but what sticks with me more is the vivid recollection of the whooping I got with my dad's leather belt when he got home from work later that day. That memory still stings! But I can also tell you that I never threw rocks at that kid or any other kid again and somewhere along the ...

I just returned from South Brunswick High School where almost all of the high school students in my youth group attend as well as my oldest daughter. Normally, this wouldn't be an unusual event at all since I sub there a few times a month and I man the carpool duty there every afternoon. But today was different. I was there for the worst possible reason. This morning a high school senior, a vivacious and popular fireball of a girl named Lily Beatini, died tragically in an auto accident not far from the school. Word in the form of rumors spread fast - I got my share of text messages - with everyone wanting to know what was going on. When my phone rang and I was officially told the tragic news, my heart sank. I didn't know this young lady personally other than being her substitute teacher on a couple of occasions and watching her play lacrosse, but I knew that she was well-loved and respected by all of her classmates. Her death has left so many students staggered and at a loss...

My son played in a local recreation league soccer game this past weekend against a team from another part of our county and, as has been the result all season, they lost. Each week I go to watch my son play and support him from the sidelines, and this winless streak has been really challenging to digest. You see, this is the third season in a row where his soccer team - which have all been different teams with different players - has yet to win a game. They say that losing builds character. Honestly, I don't know how much more character my son needs. When you have a child who plays a sport, you of course want them to win, but at the same time you have to realize that your nine-year-old child is probably not drawing a lot of college scouts at this point, so it's okay to not stress over the outcomes too terribly much. When I am on the sidelines, I am there to watch my son play. What I mean is, I don't holler at him and try to coach him from the cheap seats. He has a coach ...

When it comes to politics, I typically keep my opinions close to the vest, and that is not really going to change now. As a registered Independent, I love the feeling of not being key holed into one particular party or ideology. I'm a maverick, a renegade who arrives at the voting booth on a Harley wearing a leather vest while the crowds part as I swagger my way to the voting booth. Or at least I like to see myself that way. In reality, I am just like everyone else when it comes to politics. I have to make an informed decision and so do you. This is where it starts to get tricky. This election cycle is unlike any I have witnessed in my 46 years on earth, at least from the years that I can remember. I purposefully don't get too involved in political discussions because I value healthy relationships and a stable blood pressure. Besides, I've never engaged in a political debate where either side has emerged saying, " You're exactly right! Silly me, I see it your ...

The artist known as Prince just died. It's all over the news and his music is basically on every station. While not necessarily a fan of Prince - I have never owned nor downloaded any of his music - I do have a deep appreciation for the artist that he was. I'm not ashamed to admit that last night in the car is was jamming to "Little Red Corvette" and "Let's Go Crazy" when it came on the radio. When you hear brilliance, you must stop to appreciate it. Another no-as-famous person died yesterday as well. Chyna, of WWE fame, passed away, leaving behind a legacy for female wrestlers that she pretty much started on her own. Back in the day, I used to watch wrestling when it wasn't the trashy show that it is now. Chyna was just coming on the scene then and, while I didn't always buy the theatrics, I did appreciate the fact that a woman could body slam a man and make him look silly. When someone busts boundaries wide open, you have to stop and admire,...

Compassion. This is a word that is not foreign to any of us. We know what it means, or at least we think we know what it means. The word compassion comes from the Latin word compati which means "to suffer with." This means that if you have compassion on someone, then you are there suffering with them. Not from a distance or by throwing money at a cause, but right there with them. This makes compassion personal, real, difficult at times. As I write this my oldest daughter is in the hospital in Winston-Salem getting treatment for a pretty nasty flare up of Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (JRA). As I've watched her struggle through pain this weekend, it's been necessary to muster all the compassion that I can for her. Not because I don't care, but rather because I personally don't have JRA and I often don't know how to suffer with her. Yes, I can show sympathy and tell her that I care, but compassion is more than that. It's intensely personal. Simply ...

Several years ago I became the new youth pastor at a church in Yadkinville, NC. In case you've never heard of Yadkinville or you have no idea how to pronounce it, the "d" is silent and the "i" is more like a hard "u", so it's pronounced "Ya-kun-vull" by those who really know who to speak Yadkin-ese, the local dialect there. Anyhow, the students there were all awesome and a little on the country side, which was cool because it challenged me to be a little less "city" and uptight about certain things. Early on in my time of service there, I realized that I had a group of guys that were gifted at talking junk. You know, the kind where you playfully goad other people verbally to engage in physical challenges, all the while strutting like a peacock and "bowing up" to them. If you don't understand, then you have to accept that it's a guy thing and it's just what we do at times. There was one kid in the group...