Bridgetown

Last Monday, I got one of those texts. "Hey, you bored sitting around? I just had a student injure himself so he can't go to BT, opening up a spot... you wanna roll with us this week?"

So, Tuesday afternoon, I took off on a second high school ministry trip, this time with twenty-three students and five other leaders, to Portland, OR. (As if I would ever miss a chance to be blown away by these kids and their incredible ability to love!)

(Once again, the placement of the pictures is whatever blogger felt like doing. I haven't rearranged them to fit with the narration.)

This is one of those odd trips, where 65% of your time seems to be is spent on things other than hands on service, which is, quite possibly, one of the most uncomfortable things that you could ask of a group from Bethel. 

Doing things to help people? Down to a science. Bethel teams can fly by the seat of their pants and accomplish anything that you ask from them. If there are things to be done with our hands, we are 1,000% all over that one. Stopping to just sit and learn? Traditionally, not our strong suit. Thus, for the sixth year in a row, the high school youth group took a team to Portland, to learn from and with Bridgetown Inc. 

(The first high school team went my senior year, with a different youth pastor, and a very different set of kids. Subtle things about the trip have been tweaked and changed, but much of it is just as it was five years ago.)

Twenty-three kids were divided up into five groups, where we spent much of our time wandering the streets of downtown Portland. On Wednesday, they spent two hours on a prayer walk, two hours on a scavenger hunt, an hour and a half on "walk about," and an additional hour canvasing an apartment complex for Saturday's kids' club.

The next day, they walked for eight hours and stood for another two.

The closest thing to a complaint sounded like, "I am going to have buns of steel."

I don't think that I will ever cease to be amazed by the energy and tenacity with which they go after things. This crew of (largely) fourteen and fifteen year olds offered everything of themselves that they were allowed the chance to give. For introverts to come on a trip where 90% of the "service" actually involves just sitting down and asking people for their stories. For extroverts to slow down and bite their tongues and wait for quieter team members to speak first. For them to brag on each other like every success was worthy of a nobel prize. For teenagers to verbalize their desire to do more, know more, see more. For disappointments to turn into stories and for their loudest moments to still remain fully under control.

For all of that, there is a testimony not only to the greatness of their God but also to the greatness of their character.

After a four hour van ride, a stop at the falls, and a stop at the mall for dinner, they finally set foot in downtown Portland and settled down on the red bricks to listen. Here, they listened to the story of the group that they were about to join. While they watched, they listened and took note, and, this being Portland, a few random strangers stopped in to listen too.

Back at the bunk house, they listened to the story of the one who was going to be their boss - not the sort of half hearted listening that they have perfected in school, but really truly listened. And, they watched as they listened, watched to see if his eyes and his body matched up with his words, watched to see if their teammates were hearing the same things that they were.

Because, these kids will do everything in their power to find the truth.

Just when I thought that we had pushed them beyond the limits of even the best attention span, it was time to journal. And, they jumped into it with a passion that was astounding. They got their hearts right. They gave up their expectations. They wrote each other letters of encouragement.

And, I got a necessary smack on the head reminding me just how much I love these kids.

Prior to that moment, I may have entertained some not so positive but very beaver-like thoughts about being a last minute addition and not fitting into whatever team dynamic they had already established. Yeah. Shut up, MacFarlan. You love these kids. So, be here to love on them and enable them to love others.

Luckily for me, one good "duh" moment was enough to return to your regularly scheduled programing of constant bragging about these kids.

Which, was a good thing, because, as per usual, they were rockstars.

Not enough bunks in the girls' rooms (which they referred to all week as "cabins")? No complaints. This is why we brought sleeping bags.

One bathroom for eighteen girls? Meh. Why not shower downstairs?

"I need three volunteers." Eight hands shoot into the air faster than lightening.

Dishes in the sink? There's a high schooler in there washing them before the rest of us have even finished eating.

Just woke up an hour early for a coffee shop that doesn't seem like it's going to open today? Guess we'll drink orange juice instead.

You won't tell us what we're doing next? Guess we'll just wait and see.

No technology? Okay. Can I text my mom to let her know I won't have my phone?

This is a generation used to having the answers for everything at their fingertips. And, yet, they turned it all off for a few days and concentrated on the people around them. They learned stories and made constant connections, delving into a world that is so different from their own and yet could so easily be theirs were just a few things in their lives slightly different.