Friday, December 18, 2009
Thank you Jesus for lunch breaks...
Otherwise when else would I discover that I have a huge hole in the BUTT of my pants and have the opportunity to change them.
Lessons in Student Ministry: Part Five
I don't know if anyone actually reads this blog anymore besides my mom and Sarah...but I'll keep going for you two. :-P
What I Can Learn From the Amish
Rumspringa. Most literally translated from German to mean "running around." By the sheer nature of me being ornery this morning, I happened to mention Rumspringa in conversation. (No, this isn't normal) But, seeing as how I've had student ministry stuff so extremely heavy on my heart for the past 24 hours, what began as an ornery comment, turned into extensive consideration and thought.
Rumspringa is a tradition of the Amish. While it seems to me that it has been exaggerated a bit in the media as to the extremes in which it's taken, it basically refers to a time in adolescence when students of the Amish culture are given permission to head out into the world, try out anything and everything should they choose, and then decide whether or not to come back to the Amish community and be baptized in the Amish church. Again, I think the media has done a tremendous job of portraying this as extremely common when in fact many adolescents choose not to participate or participate to the level that we assume they would. But nonetheless, there are a number of students who venture away from the simplicity of their homes, head out into society and find themselves tangled in drugs, alcohol and promiscuity.
Theology that I may not agree with aside, there's something to be learned from this and here's how I know...
Between 85 and 90% of those students will, on their own, make the decision to return to their homes, family, way of living, and most importantly, to their faith.
Almost 90%.
Nine out of 10 teenagers who live with no electricity, no vehicles, no video games, no movies will knowingly and intentionally return to that lifestyle while they are still in their teenage years.
They're on to a lot of things that we're missing. But I think this is the biggest one...
They've grown up with simplicity. Family, faith and hard work. That's it. And when they venture out, they can see our world for what it is. Distraction. Frightening distraction. And the more I begin to realize this, the more it frightens me. Because my girls will never know a world free of distraction. They will never have lived in a simple, quiet time and place and while they could in essence make a choice to live that way in the future, how do you really do that when this world is all you know.
Which is, I think, exactly what happens with the Amish. Their world is what they know and anything else feels excessive, loud, oppressive and scary. For us to enter theirs would feel stark, uncomfortable, boring and probably scary because for the first time in our lives we might actually have to be still and listen.
But their world is more in line with the life God called us to and prepares our hearts for. Of course those kids return to their faith because their lives and their worlds match up with what their faith is telling them is real. It's not a wonder that it's so easy for them to believe...
What I Can Learn From the Amish
Rumspringa. Most literally translated from German to mean "running around." By the sheer nature of me being ornery this morning, I happened to mention Rumspringa in conversation. (No, this isn't normal) But, seeing as how I've had student ministry stuff so extremely heavy on my heart for the past 24 hours, what began as an ornery comment, turned into extensive consideration and thought.
Rumspringa is a tradition of the Amish. While it seems to me that it has been exaggerated a bit in the media as to the extremes in which it's taken, it basically refers to a time in adolescence when students of the Amish culture are given permission to head out into the world, try out anything and everything should they choose, and then decide whether or not to come back to the Amish community and be baptized in the Amish church. Again, I think the media has done a tremendous job of portraying this as extremely common when in fact many adolescents choose not to participate or participate to the level that we assume they would. But nonetheless, there are a number of students who venture away from the simplicity of their homes, head out into society and find themselves tangled in drugs, alcohol and promiscuity.
Theology that I may not agree with aside, there's something to be learned from this and here's how I know...
Between 85 and 90% of those students will, on their own, make the decision to return to their homes, family, way of living, and most importantly, to their faith.
Almost 90%.
Nine out of 10 teenagers who live with no electricity, no vehicles, no video games, no movies will knowingly and intentionally return to that lifestyle while they are still in their teenage years.
They're on to a lot of things that we're missing. But I think this is the biggest one...
They've grown up with simplicity. Family, faith and hard work. That's it. And when they venture out, they can see our world for what it is. Distraction. Frightening distraction. And the more I begin to realize this, the more it frightens me. Because my girls will never know a world free of distraction. They will never have lived in a simple, quiet time and place and while they could in essence make a choice to live that way in the future, how do you really do that when this world is all you know.
Which is, I think, exactly what happens with the Amish. Their world is what they know and anything else feels excessive, loud, oppressive and scary. For us to enter theirs would feel stark, uncomfortable, boring and probably scary because for the first time in our lives we might actually have to be still and listen.
But their world is more in line with the life God called us to and prepares our hearts for. Of course those kids return to their faith because their lives and their worlds match up with what their faith is telling them is real. It's not a wonder that it's so easy for them to believe...
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Lessons in Student Ministry: Part Four
Being at a loss...
because that's where I am. Not with my Bible study girls. Or even with the other students I've randomly met in the cafeteria. But now I also spend another day a week at the middle school mentoring, one girl formally and another one who just tags along. And this is where I find myself at a loss...
I know this about them: They are two complete and total sweethearts who by way of the world are quickly headed down a path that could be really dangerous before too long. A path that makes me legitimately concerned for them, for their hearts that are right now trains on a track they don't belong on, and going WAY too fast.
And I'm far too slow to catch up with them. And not strong enough to stop it even if I could.
Today after a little prodding and asking a few "right" questions, came to the realization that there is no one else in their life who is going to stop it either.
And it hit me hard...There is literally nothing but Jesus that's going to be able to save this situation. In many kids' lives, a few right teachers, a decent mom and dad, maybe an older brother or sister can give the illusion of "saving" them. But probably not with these two. It is going to take nothing smaller than an act of God. It is going to take the redeeming love of Jesus not just to protect and rescue them but to turn their hearts toward a desire to live differently.
I was thinking about that for the bulk of the time that I spent with them today. With every cuss word, every New Year's Eve plan, every text message from every boy they shared with me. But there was hope. Hope in their smiles. Hope when they both shared with me how much they respected their grandmothers. Hope when they sweetly asked, "Miss, what are you going to do for Christmas?"
When lunch was over, I walked one of them to her class. She gave me a big hug and I noticed a woman lingering near us, but my student didn't seem to recognize her and I had never seen her either so I didn't pay much attention. I grabbed my student's face and said, "Sweetheart promise me that you won't do anything stupid over the break. That you'll make good decisions. You are way too smart to be doing what you've been talking about doing."
"I promise Miss."
"I'm not kidding. I want you to be careful."
"I will, Miss. Promise."
I hugged her again and she walked away. The woman looked at me and said, "Are you mentoring her?" I said, "Yes. Well, I'm trying to." She said, "Are you taking good care of her?" I chuckled and said, "Well, I'm trying to do that too." She smiled and said, "Good," and walked away.
I don't know who she was. And I don't know that my student does either. But I'm pretty sure she knows my student. So on the days when I'm at a loss, I'll remember that there's someone else out there who wants this kid taken care of. And that it's not by my strength, but by that of Jesus that it's going to happen.
because that's where I am. Not with my Bible study girls. Or even with the other students I've randomly met in the cafeteria. But now I also spend another day a week at the middle school mentoring, one girl formally and another one who just tags along. And this is where I find myself at a loss...
I know this about them: They are two complete and total sweethearts who by way of the world are quickly headed down a path that could be really dangerous before too long. A path that makes me legitimately concerned for them, for their hearts that are right now trains on a track they don't belong on, and going WAY too fast.
And I'm far too slow to catch up with them. And not strong enough to stop it even if I could.
Today after a little prodding and asking a few "right" questions, came to the realization that there is no one else in their life who is going to stop it either.
And it hit me hard...There is literally nothing but Jesus that's going to be able to save this situation. In many kids' lives, a few right teachers, a decent mom and dad, maybe an older brother or sister can give the illusion of "saving" them. But probably not with these two. It is going to take nothing smaller than an act of God. It is going to take the redeeming love of Jesus not just to protect and rescue them but to turn their hearts toward a desire to live differently.
I was thinking about that for the bulk of the time that I spent with them today. With every cuss word, every New Year's Eve plan, every text message from every boy they shared with me. But there was hope. Hope in their smiles. Hope when they both shared with me how much they respected their grandmothers. Hope when they sweetly asked, "Miss, what are you going to do for Christmas?"
When lunch was over, I walked one of them to her class. She gave me a big hug and I noticed a woman lingering near us, but my student didn't seem to recognize her and I had never seen her either so I didn't pay much attention. I grabbed my student's face and said, "Sweetheart promise me that you won't do anything stupid over the break. That you'll make good decisions. You are way too smart to be doing what you've been talking about doing."
"I promise Miss."
"I'm not kidding. I want you to be careful."
"I will, Miss. Promise."
I hugged her again and she walked away. The woman looked at me and said, "Are you mentoring her?" I said, "Yes. Well, I'm trying to." She said, "Are you taking good care of her?" I chuckled and said, "Well, I'm trying to do that too." She smiled and said, "Good," and walked away.
I don't know who she was. And I don't know that my student does either. But I'm pretty sure she knows my student. So on the days when I'm at a loss, I'll remember that there's someone else out there who wants this kid taken care of. And that it's not by my strength, but by that of Jesus that it's going to happen.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
In Weakness...
An excerpt from "Adam's Story", Henri J. M. Nouwen.
Keep your eyes on the prince of peace, the one who doesn't cling to his divine power; the one who refuses to turn stones into bread, jump from great heights and rule with great power; the one who says, "Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness" (see Matt. 5:3-11); the one who touches the lame, the crippled, and the blind; the one who speaks words of forgiveness and encouragement; the one who dies alone, rejected and despised. Keep your eyes on him who becomes poor with the poor, weak with the weak, and who is rejected with the rejected. He is the source of all peace.
Where is this peace to be found? The answer is clear. In weakness. First of all, in our own weakness, in those places of our hearts where we feel most broken, most insecure, most in agony, most afraid. Why there? Because there our familiar ways of controlling our world are being stripped away; there we are called to let go from doing much, thinking much, and relying on our self-sufficiency. Right there where we are weakest the peace which is not of this world is hidden.
In Adam's name I say to you, "Claim that peace that remains unknown to so many and make it your own. Because with that peace in your heart you will have new eyes to see and new ears to hear and gradually recognize that same peace in places you would have least expected."
Keep your eyes on the prince of peace, the one who doesn't cling to his divine power; the one who refuses to turn stones into bread, jump from great heights and rule with great power; the one who says, "Blessed are the poor, the gentle, those who mourn, and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers and those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness" (see Matt. 5:3-11); the one who touches the lame, the crippled, and the blind; the one who speaks words of forgiveness and encouragement; the one who dies alone, rejected and despised. Keep your eyes on him who becomes poor with the poor, weak with the weak, and who is rejected with the rejected. He is the source of all peace.
Where is this peace to be found? The answer is clear. In weakness. First of all, in our own weakness, in those places of our hearts where we feel most broken, most insecure, most in agony, most afraid. Why there? Because there our familiar ways of controlling our world are being stripped away; there we are called to let go from doing much, thinking much, and relying on our self-sufficiency. Right there where we are weakest the peace which is not of this world is hidden.
In Adam's name I say to you, "Claim that peace that remains unknown to so many and make it your own. Because with that peace in your heart you will have new eyes to see and new ears to hear and gradually recognize that same peace in places you would have least expected."
Friday, December 11, 2009
Hometown Glory: Part Five
No...I didn't forget this series of posts...just got a little distracted. :)
"Home is not where you live but where they understand you." ~Christian Morgenstern
After I moved up to the high school I continued to seek her help with projects and costumes and spent a lot of time at the middle school helping her with things in our classroom. She was also a consistent influence in my faith. As our friendship grew and we hung out more, I got to know Mr. T. who was also a teacher.
Those two are the kind of teachers every kid should get to have at some point in their lives. They didn't have any children, aside from the many beautiful felines that have come and gone over the years, but because of that poured their lives into their students and their work. They had heart for us that was different, hearts that made us know we were the most important people in their lives. Hearts that I would and did tell everything to. Hearts that made me feel important. When I started performing, I remember getting more excited knowing that they were going to be there than pretty much anyone else in the world and I can't think of anything that they missed.
After graduating from high school, my mom, Mrs. Taylor and I took a trip to NYC and it continues to be one of my most cherished trips. It was a sweet time for all of us.
To this day I have a beautiful butterfly mobile hanging in my apartment that Mrs. Taylor made me. It's one of the sweetest, most thoughtful, genuine gifts I've ever received. I've had a years long love of butterflies, founded in the idea that in Christ we are a new creation, we are reborn. And it seems so fitting that when I see that mobile, the reminder of the path I walked to get to Him, the Taylors are two of the most important people on that journey.
"Home is not where you live but where they understand you." ~Christian Morgenstern
Mr. and Mrs. Taylor
I think these two may have been the first on what became a long list of "surrogate parents." :) And there are more stories than I could even begin to tell...how she taught me to play "cheeseball baseball," how I helped him install a ceiling fan in their attic, how they came to St. Louis to surprise my mom and me...the list goes on and on.
I first met Mrs. Taylor when I was in 6th grade. She was my art teacher all through middle school and our friendship started in 8th grade when I was working on the yearbook and pretty much the entire rest of the yearbook staff peaced out about a month before the final product was supposed to be turned over to the printer. My advisor at that time wasn't particularly helpful and by the grace of God, Mrs. T. was always in her room long after all other teachers had left the building. I wandered over there seeking help one afternoon, knowing that she had been the yearbook advisor in years prior.
From that point on and in a few week's time, we spent countless hours getting the final product put together and formed a friendship that has lasted nearly 12 years. Mrs. Taylor had a heart and appreciation for middle schoolers unlike any that I have ever seen, but that I know I learned from and continue to aspire to. But the most amazing thing about her was that she listened and she made herself available. That year was close to the time I started going to and exploring the church, and I just happened to find myself at the church she had been a part of her entire life. Her presence there was one of the reasons I kept going and her willingness to talk to me about it at school was incredibly influential...although I didn't realize it at the time. It was also during that time that my love for theatre was growing and we spent many hours discussing that as well. I remember one day when during class she said, "I have a present for you. Come back after school." When I showed up later that day, she pulled out a cassette tape of the Miss Saigon soundtrack. At that time, I didn't have any show soundtracks and had never heard any of that show. But I listened to it over and over and over again, partly because I loved it but I think more because it was a reminder that this person had thought of me, outside the walls of the school. When you're in middle school, there is little that means more than that.
After I moved up to the high school I continued to seek her help with projects and costumes and spent a lot of time at the middle school helping her with things in our classroom. She was also a consistent influence in my faith. As our friendship grew and we hung out more, I got to know Mr. T. who was also a teacher.
Those two are the kind of teachers every kid should get to have at some point in their lives. They didn't have any children, aside from the many beautiful felines that have come and gone over the years, but because of that poured their lives into their students and their work. They had heart for us that was different, hearts that made us know we were the most important people in their lives. Hearts that I would and did tell everything to. Hearts that made me feel important. When I started performing, I remember getting more excited knowing that they were going to be there than pretty much anyone else in the world and I can't think of anything that they missed.
After graduating from high school, my mom, Mrs. Taylor and I took a trip to NYC and it continues to be one of my most cherished trips. It was a sweet time for all of us.
To this day I have a beautiful butterfly mobile hanging in my apartment that Mrs. Taylor made me. It's one of the sweetest, most thoughtful, genuine gifts I've ever received. I've had a years long love of butterflies, founded in the idea that in Christ we are a new creation, we are reborn. And it seems so fitting that when I see that mobile, the reminder of the path I walked to get to Him, the Taylors are two of the most important people on that journey.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Heaven Song
Last night I got to see Phil Wickham in concert and that brother can write music. There's something special about his lyrics. But this song kind of messed me up. Listening to this song put a spark back in my heart that had been dim for a little while...
You wrote a letter and You signed Your name
I read every word, read it page by page
You said that You'd be coming
Coming for me soon
Oh my God I'll be ready for You
Cause I want to run on greener pastures
I want to dance on higher hills
I want to drink from sweeter waters
In the misty morning chill
And my soul is getting restless
For the place where I belong
I can't wait to join the angels and sing my heaven song
I hear Your voice and I catch my breath
Well done my child enter in, in rest
As tears roll down my cheek
Oh it's beautiful beyond my wildest dreams
You wrote a letter and You signed Your name
I read every word, read it page by page
You said that You'd be coming
Coming for me soon
Oh my God I'll be ready for You
Cause I want to run on greener pastures
I want to dance on higher hills
I want to drink from sweeter waters
In the misty morning chill
And my soul is getting restless
For the place where I belong
I can't wait to join the angels and sing my heaven song
I hear Your voice and I catch my breath
Well done my child enter in, in rest
As tears roll down my cheek
Oh it's beautiful beyond my wildest dreams
Monday, November 30, 2009
John 15:13
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends...
~Jesus
This one has been getting to me lately. It's something that popped into my head about two weeks ago and it won't go away. In the most simple explanation, here's why...
God brought this to my mind. When I think of this verse, I think "I am called to lay down my LIFE for my friends." I emphasize life. The physical living and breathing that I do. And I having a sinking feeling I'm not the only one.
Problem is...that part is easy. It is easy to think that on the rare occasion that I would have the opportunity to stand in front of a bullet or jump in front of a speeding car for a friend of mine that I would absolutely do it, no questions asked. This is especially true in student ministry with my kids, with my closest friends, and with my family. I feel very confident saying that I would quit living if it came down to me or one of them.
But what if I moved the emphasis. What if I said, "I am called to lay down MY life for my friends." What if I started focusing not on literally giving up my ability to breathe for someone, but instead giving up the things in my life that I've begun to think of as mine. That somewhere I started believing belonged to me and that I deserve.
My time. My money. My comforts. My time with my friends. My church that I love. My time at coffee shops. My time to read and journal. My lunch hour. My happiness. My pride. My sleep. My perceptions of what people think of me. My desire to do what people expect of me. My desire to be noticed and affirmed.
The list could go on...and it would go downhill from there. So I'll spare myself that humbling and ongoing blow to my ego and move on.
When I think about my friends and my family, I'm called to give up my time. My comfort of living a life with emotional walls around me. I'm called to sacrifice my fears to trust and truth. I'm called to give up expectations and live a life consumed by a servant's heart.
When I think about my students, I know that I would physically give up my heartbeat for them. But, what I've been asked to give up is my time, my comforts and my human desire to satisfy myself first. I'm called to give up time with my friends. I'm called to give up sleep. I'm called to give up down time for them. If I'm being honest, it's even harder with them because I can't expect to receive anything from them for it. I can't expect any kind of reward or recognition. They're kids.
And why are those things ultimately harder than giving up the breath that I breathe? I think because it's a daily sacrifice. One that has to happen over and over and over again. Because it's a battle with a deceitful and sick heart (Jeremiah 17:9)
But I know this. Every time I've done it, with every Godly sacrifice I've made, I've been met with joy. The kind that doesn't make any sense. The joy that doesn't come from me or pride in myself, but from a peace of heart and mind that goes far beyond my understanding. Joy that is a gift, not a product of what I've done. And so it goes with God, that now that I've had this thought, I'm consistenly asking myself, am I willing to give up MY life, what I think is mine, what I think I deserve. Am I willing to give up me for my friends.
~Jesus
This one has been getting to me lately. It's something that popped into my head about two weeks ago and it won't go away. In the most simple explanation, here's why...
God brought this to my mind. When I think of this verse, I think "I am called to lay down my LIFE for my friends." I emphasize life. The physical living and breathing that I do. And I having a sinking feeling I'm not the only one.
Problem is...that part is easy. It is easy to think that on the rare occasion that I would have the opportunity to stand in front of a bullet or jump in front of a speeding car for a friend of mine that I would absolutely do it, no questions asked. This is especially true in student ministry with my kids, with my closest friends, and with my family. I feel very confident saying that I would quit living if it came down to me or one of them.
But what if I moved the emphasis. What if I said, "I am called to lay down MY life for my friends." What if I started focusing not on literally giving up my ability to breathe for someone, but instead giving up the things in my life that I've begun to think of as mine. That somewhere I started believing belonged to me and that I deserve.
My time. My money. My comforts. My time with my friends. My church that I love. My time at coffee shops. My time to read and journal. My lunch hour. My happiness. My pride. My sleep. My perceptions of what people think of me. My desire to do what people expect of me. My desire to be noticed and affirmed.
The list could go on...and it would go downhill from there. So I'll spare myself that humbling and ongoing blow to my ego and move on.
When I think about my friends and my family, I'm called to give up my time. My comfort of living a life with emotional walls around me. I'm called to sacrifice my fears to trust and truth. I'm called to give up expectations and live a life consumed by a servant's heart.
When I think about my students, I know that I would physically give up my heartbeat for them. But, what I've been asked to give up is my time, my comforts and my human desire to satisfy myself first. I'm called to give up time with my friends. I'm called to give up sleep. I'm called to give up down time for them. If I'm being honest, it's even harder with them because I can't expect to receive anything from them for it. I can't expect any kind of reward or recognition. They're kids.
And why are those things ultimately harder than giving up the breath that I breathe? I think because it's a daily sacrifice. One that has to happen over and over and over again. Because it's a battle with a deceitful and sick heart (Jeremiah 17:9)
But I know this. Every time I've done it, with every Godly sacrifice I've made, I've been met with joy. The kind that doesn't make any sense. The joy that doesn't come from me or pride in myself, but from a peace of heart and mind that goes far beyond my understanding. Joy that is a gift, not a product of what I've done. And so it goes with God, that now that I've had this thought, I'm consistenly asking myself, am I willing to give up MY life, what I think is mine, what I think I deserve. Am I willing to give up me for my friends.
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