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!)