NiGHT LiFE

Every once in a while, the youth group has a “fun” night to just hang out and invite friends and live out a different side of life together. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it’s a little awkward. Always, when we invite Him, God does something.

Largely by accident, I got to spend the evening with two girls in particular, one who I get to hang out with every Wednesday and one who isn’t in a cluster yet. Both of the girls are amazing, and I got the chance to see the senior girl pouring into the freshman some of the things that have been given to her over years in small groups, which was also amazing.

Ironically enough, we spent a good chunk of our time discussing relationships and dating and not needing to date every guy who you come across, even well after the rest of the youth group had packed up and gone home (waiting for the younger girl’s ride to arrive).

It was a very different sort of God filled evening than Saturday night was, but it was a God thing nonetheless.
And, it made the weeks of slightly awkward relationship building time with the younger of the girls all the more worth it when she turned around during a quiet moment with, “Can I ask you something?”

Huge.

Even more so because I don’t remember ever asking a youth leader for advice – although I’m sure I must have. Giving an adult the chance to judge your life is a big deal…and more than a little frightening as a teenager.

Have I mentioned recently that I get to love some pretty amazing kids?

Concert

Quite a few years ago, Jeff Deyo came and preformed at a local youth conference. Tonight, he came back and did a worship “concert” at our church, following an all day conference for worship leaders and musicians.

It was a small crowd when I got there with my mom and sister, and, as I stood with some of the youth group kids, waiting for the concert to start, it became clear that it was going to stay a small crowd.

It was worth it, though.

For three hours, people from my church and other churches in the area were able to simply worship together and pray for each other and see the Spirit move.

My cousin who goes to a foursquare church was there. One of my 4th graders was there. Some of the kids we watch on Monday nights were there. People’s parents were there. A man who used to be one of my Sunday school teachers was there. And, the list goes on.

For people who have been at my church all of their Christian lives, I’m sure it was the longest they have ever been in a large group worship setting (by probably at least two and a half hours). And, it was very cool to watch them stick it out and continue to wait on God.

It was very not normal for our church full of engineers and children of engineers, and that was a good thing. (Or, at least, that seems to be the common consensus on Facebook!)

More Mess

It’s official. I simply attract mess. If I am within three feet of something that could possibly be strewn over a flat surface by a small person, it will be strewn – and by strewn, I literally mean that it will be found As. Far. As. Possible. from its original position without defying the laws of physics.

This morning, I found yet another wooden block from Monday evening, when the small box of blocks managed to make their way across every last inch of the not-so-small floor.

I was already pulling things out of said cranny, because this innocent looking group of 0 – 6 year olds managed to strew every single toy even father than they manage most days of the week. For only an hour of play time, the mess was impressive.

Almost as impressive as what my cooking class did to the kitchen on Wednesday.

Making a Mess

Cooking class this week was more or less an adventure in sticky messes. While the girls were off on a trip to the water station, the boys decided that, this week, I was only going to give instructions step by step and not tell the girls what we were making.

Of course, one of the boys then proceeded to spill the beans, because, well, he’s four, and an hour is a long time to keep a secret!




The little girls divided a hot cereal mix into little cups for everyone and got a pot of water boiling, while the boys peeled and quartered bananas and the big girls grated up blocks of bakers chocolate.



And, then, we proceeded to drench the cereal in nearly every form of sweetener imaginable (honey, agave nectar, brown sugar, “raw” cane sugar, vanilla almond milk, raisins) and mix in extra chocolate and coconut that didn’t quite make it onto their bananas.

Luckily for their next teachers, they spent so much time mixing and concocting sugary messes that they actually ate very little of it.



A couple of the middle schoolers came in after class to grab their extra food – because what teenager isn’t hungry at 2:00 in the afternoon? One of the boys glanced at their mess and declared, “It looks like cat barf.”

Yes. By the time the had mixed and stirred to their hearts’ content, it did look rather like something that had been eaten once already. But, hey, they had fun, and it was still healthier than coco puffs.

(One of the boys did put only honey on his, and then ate it down with great gusto, telling me that, “I love hot foods!” Haha. Glad you liked it, kiddo.)



(Btw… can you locate my resident camera ham?)

Small Group

This week the second time since the Christmas Feast that I was able to make it up for Hope Fellowship (the Bible study on the Rez), and, as always, it was a hundred times worth the drive to get there.

(Every past week either the weather has been bad, people have been sick, there has been a funeral in the Longhouse, or something has come up on our end.)

Because they have not met “normally” in so long, the group was missing some familiar faces, and the small group of 8-10 year old boys that I subbed for only consisted of two boys. We talked about the Bible story, and a little bit about life, colored, did worksheets, and made a craft.

And, I remembered what it is like to have a small group that is actually small.

I love every single one of my Sunday School kids to death, BUT, there is only so much you can do to get a deep discussion out of a circle of 12 – 14 kids who have the combined attention span of a guppy. Twenty-five minutes of small group time only leaves – literally – a minute or two of focused attention for each child, and that would be on a perfect Sunday, with no other distractions.

Tonight, I was able to spend the entire small group time directly focused on two boys, and it was amazing.

I’m pretty sure that, one of the many benefits of eternity will be being able to spend a thousand years pouring into and learning from one person, without feeling like you have wasted time that ought to have gone to someone else, because there will be enough time to get to everyone, eventually.

All the Time, God is Good

This morning, in between services, one of the freshman girls grabbed me to ask about the Focus Month/Justice Trip. We talked for a little while and then pulled an eighth grade guy into the conversation. Another middle school guy heard us talking and jumped into the conversation himself.

She is almost 100% certain that she wants to/can go on the trip.

Guy #2 is definitely interested. Guy #1, I think we’re still working on.

That’s one, possibly two, girls, and at least one part time guy (different guy) so far. It’s a start!

Then…it was time for 4th and 5th grade Sunday School. We hung out outside in the gorgeous sunshine, a couple of the girls poured over an ESL dictionary, one of the boys demonstrated that he could, indeed, put on a kikoy (man skirt), “gird up his lions,” and still play dodge ball, and then they managed to be ALL OVER THE PLACE during our sit down time.

Not defiant, but just EVERYWHERE, like trying to have a conversation with a flock of magpies in a room full of shiny objects.

(Oh. And, Jessica being Jessica, one of the boys managed to slice his finger open very nicely – not on the S omali knife that they were looking at, but with a very sharp piece of dead, ornamental grass.)

For large group worship, though, we didn’t do any of the “fun” songs that normally get so many eye rolls, and, instead, they gave the kids three options: stay in the center and sing quiet songs, go off to the left and read their Bibles, or go off to the right and pray.

There were at least a dozen boys, lined up against the wall , in various postures of prayer, not talking with their friends, but praying, voluntarily.

(Literally, only three girls came over, one of them because she had glued herself to my side for the day.)

Still, quiet, REAL praying. These are some pretty awesome little men.

* They seem to make a habit of this. Whenever some “God moment” is coming later – even though they never know about them in advance – they are all over the place, and then, it’s like something CLICKS and they are fully there and fully engaged.

I’ve gotten into the habit of seeing their squirrely and just waiting for the “moment” that is about to come, like watching dogs to find out if there is about to be an earthquake. :D

But, Lord, He Stinketh

Humans have a thing about unpleasant smells – Americans probably more so than just about any other group on the planet.

We avoid them.

We avoid being them.

God, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have the same aversion. Maybe Adam and Eve stunk before the fall. Maybe they didn’t. (Maybe there was a deodorant tree across the way from the Tree of Life.)

Either way, God seems to understand, and work, even in stinky situations.

He raised a smelly Lazarus from the dead. He raised a probably smelly Christ from the dead. He was born near animals. He lived in a place that probably smelled of sweat and animal and human waste, and in houses that probably smelled like smoke and damp and too many people too close together after too long without washing.

Jesus the man probably STANK.

I was talking with a homeless man the other day (initiated by my amazing little sister), and he mentioned that he had been asked to leave a local church – MY local church – while sitting and waiting for a Sunday service, because the usher was afraid his smell would be distracting.

When did the followers of a stinky carpenter decide that it was unacceptable to smell?

(Unless, of course, you are on a youth group ministry trip, at which point everyone is expected to smell. It’s apparently okay to stink, so long as you stink “for Jesus.”)

My New Best Friend

Seeing as Jessica has a new apartment, but no car to go with it… my bike has, once again, become my best friend. It gets me places in about the same amount of time that it would take to use the bus system, and it has the added benefit of not requiring a monthly pass – or a time table!

Admittedly, the first ride to the church was slightly tortuous (something to do with the entire bike being out of alignment, and Jessica not having ridden much more than two miles at a time in at least three years – and, folks, Minnesota is FLAT!), but, since then, it’s actually been really nice.

There is this amazing thing that happens to humans when you get them out of one of those little metal boxes with wheels. They speak, and they smile, and, although it is by no means up to Kenyan standards, it is expected that you will acknowledge one another’s existence and humanity.

Maybe I am just odd, but it remains amazing to me how much more deeply it feels like you connect with a place when you see it on foot – or on a bicycle.

Cars have their place (I wouldn’t want to bike to Seattle – at least, not without plenty of advanced planning!), but I am hugely enjoying the chance to NOT be in a car for once.

Cluster at My Place

I moved out into a new to me apartment this past weekend and “my” cluster girls decided that we needed to break in the space by meeting here. One of the accountability groups met in the living room, one in the bedroom...and one in the closet...which happens to be in the bathroom.

Yes. Three senior girls sat and discussed life in my bathroom closet.



After we had re-congregated on the living room floor, we talked about that sermon, and it came up that most of the girls here this week had not been baptized, and that most of them wanted to be – within the next several months. That's huge. High school is awkward enough as is, with putting your life on display for the whole church to see. To WANT to do that, to want to make that sort of public confession of faith, as a teenager – or even as an any-ager – is a big deal.

Have I mentioned that the kids I get to hang out with are amazing?

(Cluster Christmas party pic, so… right girls…wrong house.)

White Swan Fire

Quick update from Sacred Road Ministries on the fire that destroyed seventeen homes in White Swan this last week. According to the Yakima Herald, the fire left 120 people homeless.

Last night, I got to watch as a young church plant gave their first ever money offering in order to help their community rebuild and hear several women mention the cartons of blankets that they had already brought into the donation centers during the power outages, as if meeting a neighbor's needs were the most common thing in the world.

There can be beauty in pain and brokenness.

Crazy Girls

These are some of the crazy girls who I get to hang out with on Wednesday nights. Some of them I have known since we were little. Some of them were in my cabins or small groups as elementary or middle schoolers. Some of them I have just met this year. Every single one of them constantly amazes me.

One of the girls spent last Sunday playing on the worship team in one of the venues, teaching children's Sunday school, and then playing on a second worship team during youth group in the evening. Most adults are not that busy on a Sunday!

Almost every week, I get to join up with a pair of them during their accountability groups, and, every week, someone takes a chance and throws something out there. And, every week, it seems like they find a little more common ground, and a little better understanding that they were not as alone as they thought they were, or as different from each other as they might seem.

If they have nothing else in common, they share the fact that they love passionately and stubbornly and that they refuse to quit knocking until they have gotten an answer from God. (Oh. And the fact that they're NUTS!)

Totally Normal

Haha! I wish that I had gotten a picture of my small group today.

True to form, Valentines weekend was gorgeous shirt sleeves, bare feet, waiting for summer sort of weather in Tri-town, just to lull us into pretending that it isn’t really still February. After last week, when the entirety of 4th and 5th grade Sunday school was on hyper pills in anticipation of Super Bowl parties, this seemed like a good week for being outside.

I sent them on a “scavenger hunt” around the perimeter of the church building, and they came back with sticks and leaves and pieces of broken who-knows-what… and snow shovels and patio chairs.

We put everything back in its place and headed upstairs just long enough to get armloads of foam swords and plastic shields. And… proceeded to have a giant, breathless, laughing, falling down, stepping on pieces of tumble weed, battle.

We came back in time to talk for a few more minutes (about forgiveness, and kindness, and the kind of community that Jesus modeled for us), go over the memory verse, and head to singing, where a few of the girls wrung my brain for every ESL sign that I could remember.

An hour and twenty minutes a week isn’t long to try and create genuine, Christ-like, community, but, good grief, we’re going to keep giving it our best effort.

He Had a Home

"...Lorenda answered my question first, “ He had money and gold.” Several other girls added in that He had power, strength, and freedom. Each girl gave an example of what would make a king; each girl said an example of something they had never had. As all of the girls gave examples Janisha whispered, “ He had a home.""

Kat's Story (Part Three)

 “I’ve gone to truck stops, prostitution tracks, strip clubs, group homes, schools, jails—anywhere they are, that’s where I go, to try and talk to them,” Kat told me. “Now God is giving me an opportunity to share and make a difference for other girls, so that they don’t have to believe that’s their only life.”

 Read part three of Kat's story here.

Post Super Bowl

Last night - after the super bowl - some of the youth group kids, and a few of their parents, got together at the church to prep for a ministry trip fundraiser lunch this afternoon.

A) Everyone worked well and hard, and things seemed to go quickly and smoothly. (Somehow, my brother even got roped into helping, even though he hasn't been on a HS ministry trip in almost four years... My sister just has skills at being stubborn like that.)

B) While I was elbow deep in lemonade powder and they were busy trying to cut vegetables on paper cutting boards, two of the girls started asking questions about the Focus Month - or justice trip, or whatever you want to call it. One of them knew about it already and has been praying about coming. The other one had never heard of it before last night.

I am admittedly terrible at trying to talk the trip up cold turkey, but, ask me questions about it, and I am more than willing to answer. So, that was a very cool God thing for them to just bring it up like that. 

Slowly but surely, I can see God starting to pull together the team for the trip, and it is an amazing thing to watch.

(Now, I just have to keep up my end of the deal and keep telling people about it!)

(Photo Credit)

Kat's Story (Part Two)

"When, once again, a man paid the traffickers for her and took her to a bedroom in the drug dealers’ home, that alluring dream life dispersed like smoke. The truth was far uglier. The man wanted sex, and the traffickers wanted money and drugs; that was all."

 Read part two of Kat's story here.

To My Sunday School Kids (part two)

LJ, you're in small group almost every single week (often enough that the other kids worry about you being sick when  you're not there), slipping in part way through story, with that "Oops. I"m late again." look on your face, while you try to make eye contact to let me know there you made it. You love getting to know things about people, and I love the way that you listen to them with your whole body, like you are trying to absorb enough of who they are to understand their words on a cellular level. Your eyes spark up when you are talking about things that make you happy, and you always have a God story to share when we get to the sitting part of small group.

A, at first you seemed shy, willing to come stand by my side before story and talk my ear off, but not so interested in getting to know the other kids. You have become our resident "new person finder," though, and, almost every week, we have a new kid in our circle, because you have bypassed the system and told them that they could come with us. I never know if the next thing to come out of your mouth is going to be about playing "ninjas" or about an angel that you saw last week. Like LJ, there is a conviction in your voice when you talk about God things that I would challenge an adult to match.

AB, you are our resident poet type, and everything that is so common to girls of Eastern Washington families. One second you are showing my your new shoes or leggings, and, the next, you are talking about the gun show you went to. I love the way that you simply adopted yourself into my group - even before A could get a hold of you - and then settled there. Everything you do is done as if your life depended on it. You watch us all with eagle eyes, like you are trying to x-ray everyone's motives, but, occasionally, you throw caution to the wind and decide, just a for a few moments, to trust us recklessly. Those moments are the best gift you could give.

Kat's Story (Part One)

"Kat was a former trafficking victim; she had been trafficked in Florida multiple times throughout her teenage years. Right there in sunny Miami, not even a four hour drive from where I sat."

Human trafficking is one of those things that is easy to put off into the I-can't-do-anything-about-that pile. We've all seen it on the news, but it happens in places like Thailand or Romania. What we don't see so often is that it happens in cities in the US.

And, it happens. All. The. Time.

Runaways average 72 hours on the streets before they are contacted by a trafficker.

Runaways are blatantly vulnerable, but even children with the perceived "safety" of a home and a family can be vulnerable to trafficking. Kat was living with her mother the first time that she was trafficked.

Do one thing. Read her story. Internalize it. Allow yourself to become angry on her behalf. Ask God what he would have you do with that anger.

I'm Late. I'm Late. I'm Late.

Yesterday was just one of those days.

My youngest sister stayed at school for an extra lunch period, so I picked her up later than usual - without realizing that I was supposed to be teaching a class in fifteen minutes - and dropped her off at her babysitting job - without realizing that I was supposed to be teaching a class in five minutes. I drove home - without realizing that I was already late - and started getting ready for the class - without realizing that the class had started without me.

Twenty minutes after the class had started - while the rice for the cracker recipe was mid-boil and I was still trying to divide up ingredients - I got a phone call from one of the co-op moms, asking if I was coming to teach today.

(There may have been a not so child friendly word that slipped out after I hung up the phone with her and proceeded to yank the half boiled rice off of the stove and throw the last of the ingredients into a bag.)

I'm still not sure what my teacher's aids did with the kids during the thirty minutes that I was not there, but they were ready and waiting when I finally did arrive, and we managed to cram an hours worth of class into thirty minutes.

And... one of the little girls stopped me as I walked in the door to give me a rock that she had painted as a present for me - just in case I needed to feel a little more guilty about forgetting them!

(Photo Credit)

Morning Childcare

So... when I say that E spends 85% of his time at childcare on the floor, I'm not actually exaggerating. (Excuse the photo quality. A two-year-old took it on my phone, but I thought that it showed enough of the scene to be worth sharing.)

This is more or less what things always look like. One of them is trying to poison him while the other one is trying to save his life, which neutralizes out to laying on the floor surrounded by children.

Focus

Focus Month, that is. Slowly but surely I am getting directly in touch with each of the Tri-Town kids on my Facebook list to invite them on the Focus Month.

This piece of cardboard has been sitting beside me as a reminder of why exactly I am spending so much time on Facebook.

I'm ADD like that. I need the visuals.

Pretty Much Amazing

We had twenty-four kids at childcare this evening (significantly less than the thirty we had been expecting!), and things were FAR calmer and better organized than last week. Not that the kids noticed any difference at all. They are literally just happy to run in circles, play foursquare, and occasionally get spun around.

I pulled in two more of my baby sister's friends for a grand total of four high school and two "adult" teachers. I've said it before, but I'll say it again. These high schoolers are pretty much amazing.

To start with, they're great with kids and totally willing to chase six-year-olds in circles for twenty minutes without stopping. Which is huge. But. Their hearts are also amazing.

I turned around while the kids were eating snack and watching a movie to find the two who were here last week already washing and sanitizing the drink cups just as calmly as if I had asked them to do the dishes. Three of them disappeared quietly a few minutes later, when most of the kids were gone, and then showed back up to let me know that the other room was completely cleaned up and shut down. 

Huge deal.

Plus, they managed to learn at least seventeen names each - which is a challenge when the name tags don't stand still long enough to read them! Yep. These kids are impressive.

And...it kind of makes me feel old to think that I helped teach one of the girls when she was in Kindergarten Sunday school...