Tears

Some times silent, other times loud and very messy, tears come in many ways for many reasons but they always express an emotion.

Over the years of doing ministry in at risk communities and running after school program for children I have experienced many moments of tears for many different reasons. 

Tears of pain and hurt, of laughter and joy, of frustration, of seething anger, and sometimes just because they don't know how else to express themselves. 

Tears are a gift, they are full of meaning and weight. My husband often says to me he wishes he could cry as it is not a very common for him. The day of our wedding he wanted to cry, to have his yes joy expressed through tears and again when I told him we were pregnant a moment he wished he could have cried. Tears are a gift, a way to express deep feeling whether full of joy or sorrow. Tears wash down our faces helping to relieve the extent of emotion being felt often leaving us tired or exhausted and it a strange way at times feeling better. 

But tears are also as the same time sometimes the only coping mechanism for expressing deep hurt, pain or anger. They can be an uncontrolled way our bodies respond to shock and deep heart wrenching hurt, pain or fear. 

In this season at camp I have lots of criers. Kids who are quick to tears as a result or reaction to almost anything. Their upset, they cry, they didn't catch the ball, they cry. They made some one else cry, they still cry.  It is in these moments that emotions are all being expressed in the exact same way, tears. A baby is born and cries to express anything and everything, crying is it's primary way of communicating, but as the child grows so should their ability to communicate to many different emotions and desires in many different ways. But sometimes they don't, sometimes there is so little stable, healthy examples of emotions being expressed in right or helpful ways that they don't learn and constantly resort to what is known to them, tears. 

A huge part of what we do at camp is helping kids to understand they have the ability to make choices. That no one else makes their choices for them, other people may effect they way they feel but they actually have the ability to choose how they react to those feelings and to empower them to make those decisions in knowledge that they are. This is tied so closely to emotions, we are humans, react and respond based on so many emotions in a day and kids do the same, often following the poor examples of those around them. In anger they hit, in fear they bully, in sadness they hid, in pain they cause pain. This task of helping kids to make good choices is tied very closely to helping them understand and identity their emotions before reacting to how they feel as well as teaching healthy alternatives to expressing such emotions. 

To linger

I drove up around 2 not really knowing how this would go. It was the Friday before Thanksgiving and I wanted to see some beauty so I invited her to go to the bluffs with me. She got in the car and we set off. I wasn’t sure how this would go, would we have things to talk about, would she enjoy just exploring with me? This could last a total of 10 mins or who knows maybe even an hour.

As we approached the store line we dipped our hands into the cool water. As the waves lapped up onto the beach I was reminded of what waves explain to me so well, grace! Constant, over and over again a steady stream, of grace. Do I share this? Hey T, I started do you know what waves remind me of? She looked up and waited for me to continue. I took my hand and make a mark in the sand quickly before the wave came and running over it returned it to its smooth surface. Grace, I said. That mark is like our sin but God’s grace comes and washes over it with power. She took her hand and slowly began to mark her own marks as if experimenting to see if in deed the wave would wash it away.

This 14 year old girl shared about school, about the boy who got stabbed and died the week before from her school. She talked about her grandparents and family and all the things she hasn’t done and wants to do. We sat on rocks and watched the waves discussing boats and the color of the water and lake Ontario, over an hour past as we sat and talked.

Noticing the high cliffs surrounding the beach she asked what was up there and so we drove up and around to the top of the bluffs we were admired the view. T stood in wonder soaking it in than she sat with her feet over the end and just breathed it all in. I settled down beside her as she made comments of the view and how she could look at it all day and the wind how good it felt. I was in wonder! Yes, I fully agree but for this 14 year old to embrace and love it? There was no wifi, no phone, no peers and here she sat fully soaking up the sun, the view, the wind and the beauty of God.

We headed back to the community to meet with other grade 9’s who were applying to be volunteers in the afterschool program. I thought it would be a quick process of handing out some forms but instead T and her friend lingered for a couple hours. Feeling nervous about filling in an application and not being very strong in writing we sat together, me explaining the form, they giving me the answers. Me writing their answers out on a paper, they rewriting what I wrote onto the form, 

Once this was finished they asked if I could give them a ride to McDonalds so off to McDonalds we went, we order our own food and sat in the kiddy play area talking about school and life. Once another hour had passed I drove them back home and headed home myself. Overwhelmed in joy of what had just happened.

It amazes me the way these youth desire to just be in someone presence. To linger and to be cared for in the simplest of ways and yet so often my heart is fearful of their moments not knowing how they will respond, not always knowing where they are at, yet what I am learning is rather than trying to figure it all out first just making myself available for these moments as they arise!

The darling of Heaven crucified

Worthy is the Lamb

Seated on the throne

I crown you now with many crowns

You reign victorious

High and lifted up

Jesus Son of God

The darling of heaven crucified

Worthy is the Lamb

This words hold such beautiful weight in my life. As I sit and ponder over these words the wave of emotions that wash over we are endless.

I am so undeserving

Why me

I don't understand it

All I know is His forgives and embrace 

and the peace that encompasses it all.

The victory is won, the struggle is real, but it's done and the reality is that I can rest in the finished work of another.

This is a truth that is not understand, it is to so many a piece of information that is comforting at times but doesn't hold the weight or the freedom that it is intended to, because it is not embraced. The endless thoughts of 

I am so underserving

Why me

I don't understand it

Are actually the very same reasons they are unable to surrender and accept it.

No, it doesn't make sense.

Yes, we are undeserving

that is why we simple have to accept it

and not try to fully comprehend it.

Oh but the struggle for control.

That very same struggle going all the way back to that moment in the garden

we want to to know, we want to be in control.

How hard we find it to simple surrender to the fact that we can't,

but God did.

This is the truth that I love so much and that I terrible want other's (my kids, my youth my street leaders) to really and truly give themselves up to. 

The struggle is deep rooted, it is taught and even fostered but nothing, nothing is to deeply rooted for the Son to overcome.

Double trouble

Lord, you know there out there, so many young boys who have no one to lead them. Father bring them to us, bring them to camp, help us to get to know them and to invite them!

This was my prayer last January in recognizing how few boys we had at camp and just how many I saw playing after school on the playground unsupervised. As I continued prayers such as these I handed out forms as I met new kids hoping that the forms would make it home to their parent and somehow back into my hands at camp.

Just before March break I received a phone call from the mother of three young boys I had recently talked with and she eagerly signed them up for camp. I was so excited not only did that bring three more boys into our program but it meant three less boys where running around the neighborhood on their own. 

Fast forward a few months when one of these boys asked me for a form for his friend. I sent him home with one. The next day the form returned to camp accompanied with not one but two boys. Twin 8 year olds.

Well talk about double trouble. Daily I ask them what their name is and then desperately try to remember what they are wearing unless I can spot the scar on the forehead of one to be able to tell them apart.

Now we have 5 more boys between the ages of 5-9 and they are a bundle of fun and a load of trouble.

At least 5 times a day I hear one of the twins stomping up the stairs yelling my name, as he rounds the corner to my office he unloads with a flurry of swear words, wrapped up in tight angry emotions at whatever the situation was this time. I love these moments, the moment when he is completely pouring out to me all his hurt pain, and anger. 

Than he stops and he looks at me, and I remind him of his actions, of the choices he is able to make, I remind him that I believe in him and I send him back into the situations. Sometimes this works, sometimes it means that he returns in the same state 2 mins later but he is here.

I walked these 5 boys home the other day as they live very close to each other. 

As I dropped them each home I was able to talk with their parents and to watch them interact with their sons. As I turned the leave the doors the boys all exited their homes and ran across the streets as their parents closed their doors. The boys joined other local boys from the neighborhood who handed out toy guns and they proceeded to run around pretending to shoot one another.

I tell this to hopefully help you understand me deep desire for them to come to camp, to have a place to be loved and guided to be played with and to be taught not only healthy play but healthy relationships and discipline of character, to know that they are able to make their own choices but also to know the consequences that come with good or bad choices.

Please pray for these boys as camp is something very different to them, we expect big things from them and believe in them where they normally have very little expected from them. Pray also for their parents that they would not be discouraged when they are suspended for a day here and there and want to pull them out of camp but rather that they would understand how good and helpful it is for them to learn to fail in a safe place to have to deal with a consequence to be received back in love and grace the next day!

Morning workout ministry

8:45 on a Wednesday morning is when I pull up to 52 Cataraqui Recreational Centre. A tiny square concrete building we do not own but are the only ones who make use of it. Wednesday mornings are when I meet a mom from the community to run our weekly 4.4 miles together.

Some mornings she shows up awake and really to conquer the world, other days she won’t even greet me and we begin pacing ourselves in silence. The thing about these times is that it is easy to stay quiet, I mean it isn’t the easiest thing to have a full out conversation while running. Yet it is also the greatest opportunity in my week to intentionally ask questions to the woman and to listen to what can sometimes be endless chatter as I run adding a few hmm and uh huh’s here and there.

Yesterday specifically I felt like I should ask more questions about her personally. She can spend a lot of time talking about her 13 year old son who I am very close with or any of the other neighborhood kids as she is the go to fun adult on the block.

As I started asking significant questions here and there she responded well and was eager to share her struggles, fears and even discussion what causes the fear or what would make her less afraid in situations. As we talked Jesus came up often and she began speaking of how she has had  a new desire to learn more about God because her son has been asking a lot of questions at camp and is coming home full of questions that she is unable to answer but know is also questioning herself. We discussed these questions, along with topics of the distortion of love, good and bad in this world, who made God, where did the bible come from and the questions went on and on.

As our time slowly ticks down and we push each other to the end we finished exhausted and refreshed. 

Childlike

The wonder of a child is a unique thing. The way they are able to be innocent and unaware of so many things and yet have an outstanding embrace on joy.

Friday evening after dinner was finished at camp we headed to the park of the kids with nothing particular planned. As the rest of the evening unfolded I watched as their worlds of imagination became alive.

The older boys ran in circles across the entire playground engrossed in their game of tag, unashamedly unaware of all the social expectations on a 14 year old boy.

The younger kids ran repeatedly from one wood chip pile to the next crying out of the enemy approaching with their arms waving tennis rackets in the air as they full engaged in characters such as batman, girl hero, super girl and superman ect.

Two others boys at fully forgotten the need to keep their cloths clean as they buried each other’s arms deep underneath their stand castle and with such glee counted down and pulled their arms up and out sending stand flying every direction. 

I love these moments, the moments when these kids are truly kids, when the normal responsibilities that have caught up with them far too early in their lives just disappear for a little while. When they are surrendered to the freedom of their own imagination and anything is possible. I love that camp can be a place where they are forget the pressure of their homes, when they have a break from the things that way heavy on their childhood and allow them to just be who they are, to  laugh in the setting sun and to play until they are exhausted.

Absorbing from a distance

I am sitting in the office with a tea in hand, down the hall way I hear the loud banging and chatting of kids. Each in their group, the littlest group discussing what they remember from the bible study on Tues, the oldest group watching a video of Francis Chan talking about eternity as they begin their bible study. The loudest group is up to their regular jumping and banging around upstairs, they are the  7+8’s, although they constantly debate the name as some of them are 9 or almost 7, so I have told them to come up with their own new name, they have yet to decide upon one. The 9 and 10 boys are downstairs and their leader is teaching them about talking with Jesus and they are quietly writing out their own personal prayers.

It’s in these distant moments as I listen from down the hall that I have space to think, to pray. Today we are fully enforced with leaders, leaders who genuinely care for the kids, who come early to help with pickups, who come even though I don’t have any more hours left to pay them, they come just to be here, to be present.

This is the beauty of what I get to see every day. The beauty of the little one’s spilling in through the door and racing down the hallway, hands in the air, racing to be the first to meet me with a hug, their mouths all at ones shouting out story’s from their day, or calling me to notice their new haircut to the bracelet around their wrist.

The moments I catch from a distance, of their eyes peering up at a 16 year old looking for help, wisdom, leadership, and love and watching that 16 year old give back to them whatever they have to give.

Just the other day I was reminded of one of these moments as I sat in the office talking with one of my 16 year old leaders who had taken a couple months away from camp due to conflicts with co-workers matched with being overwhelmed in her personal life. Today she was back to talk about coming back to work as a leader. As we discussed the things she had learned in the process and what she was hoping for the future and why she wanted to be a leader I ceased the moment. This young lady dislikes her community and wants to so badly be able to leave it forever. She has seen and experienced so much pain and wants to run away and start fresh.

I told her that my hope for her is that she learns to love her community, to embrace the brokenness, to hold it close and to love the place and to love the people. Instead of leaving, I want her to stay! Because in staying she has a say into the future lives of those who live there and what this community will become. 

That it is beauty of who Streetleaders! The ones who want better for the kids and youth so much that they pour themselves out to make this happen! They share who they are, they give of their time, personality, talents, and gifts to creative a community of love, family and of hope. 

A language known by few

Simplicity is a way of thinking and executing life. It is deceiving to the eye; through the means we comprehend the word to be understood as something that is similar to simple.  Yet, if actually understood, stands to be in today’s culture of America something that is of great lack due to its complex difficulty.

This is in no way, a new topic.  Searching the word in google will slam you in a world of blogs, articles and self-help tools to teach you all about it. But yet it remains to be one of those things that it seems very few have figured out. The rest are left in search of it or in contentment without it. The fascinating thing is that simplicity I don’t think is one simple thing. It is a complex, encompassing multiple areas in our lives and for each person appears individually specific.

We live in a world that speaks every language except for simplicity. Between the explosion of advertisement, the push of media holding standards to who you are and who you should appear to be via social media and the constant message that we need more attacking our every sense there is little reminding of us the contentment of simplicity.

Like anything you’ll see extremes, pockets of people who live in a world of what appears to be simple, lowly and without the constant screaming for attention. Yet when studied longer it reveals itself as a fad, a way of living for the purpose of standing out and or attracting attention. So rare it is to find someone truly seeking simplicity in their own life without the draw for human affirmation which so profoundly instantly undoes what they sought in the first place.

On a personal level I have read, research and thought about simplicity a lot. I hope to find contentment with little material and physically, the freedom of mind from affirmation or attention and the ability to live a life that executes an agenda of external and internal worth above design, popularity, Instagram posts and appraisal. One that finds itself in the mundane things in life rather than the extraordinary and the good news is that there are plenty more of them to be found. A life that seeks to rather than keep up with the latest trends to keep up with the joy, excitement, love, sadness and pain of the reality of people’s off Instagram lives.

Yet there is that constant pull to speak the language that so many are speaking, to engage in the never ending hamster wheel of competition. The thing that destroys this way of living from what I have experienced is to rejoice.  To rejoice in others; in their success, in their beauty, in their achievements, in their creativity, in their excitement, in their experiences and in their life. So often our first response is to covet, to want for yourself; their beauty, their experience, their joy, their life. Yet when that energy is trained and cultivated into focusing and rejoicing in that person the competition and need to attain dissipates.  

I pray this is of encouragement to you in your journey.

That you may not grieve as others who have no hope......

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with home those who have fallen asleep.” 1 Thess 4:13-14

The last two weeks have been a whirl wind of events and emotions. It begun with a very special 7 yr old from our community being again admitted into sick kid’s hospital. This young fighter has battled cerebral palsy, epilepsy and brain disease for many years but this time was different, her heart flat lined for over 3 mins and she was placed on life support.

Being in our last week of after school program and gearing up for march break week throw us into a series of getting through each day not knowing what the next would bring. Things changed daily. As we continued about our programs and plans we sought to support the mother and two sisters who for the past 7 years have cared for this little girl in unconditional ways and with a family bond of love that was speaking volumes to the rest of the community watching their lives.

We received update after update.

Last week I headed down to sick kids to visit, comfort and support. As strong mamma led me to the edge of her baby’s bed she spoke to me of the fact that that morning she was finally allowed to wash her daughter’s hair. The first way she was a mother was able to care for her daughter in a full week. Her body lay small and lifeless, only a slight rise and fall of this little ones chest.

Meetings with social workers and doctors kept this family busy as they had to face the reality of this little one getting tired of fighting. As we stood by her side strong mamma spoke beautiful words of desiring to give her daughter the best and knew that if Jesus was calling her home, she needed to let her go. Rooted in deep faith this mamma knew it was up to her little one and Jesus.

Two days later I received the news while on our March break retreat, that this little one was reunited with our Lord and is experience Jesus fully in wholeness.

The ache of losing this precious girl has sent waves through our community as we grieve the loss of one who brought so much joy, life, smiles, hope and courage through her entire life of fighting.  

Yet the unconditional love shown over 7 years and sure faith in her Savior and Lord is such a testimony the this young girl’s family demonstrates to the community watching them. As funeral plans are being made, and the very beginning stages of grieving take place I am reminded of the Hope that even this weekend brings. It is a not a coincidence of timing, rather a divine testimony to the hope of life that Easter brings through the remembrance of the life and death of our Savior for us. That you may not grieve as others who have no hope, we have hope, hope in what Christ has done, hope of a new life, of fullness, of being with Him forever.  

Please pray that this message is heard, experienced and seen in the lives of all who knew this hope so that others in their grieve may also come to know and experience this Hope! 

Therefore they are before the throne of God

and serve Him day and night in His temple

and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore

the sun shall not strike them,

nor any scorching heat

For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd

and he will guide them to springs of living water

and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

Revelations 7: 15-17

Poverty

Poverty is commonly defined as  the state of being inferior in quality or insufficient in amount,  or according to Corbett and Fikkert, poverty is the result of relationships that do not work, that are not just, that are not for life, that are nor harmonious or enjoyable. Poverty is the absence of shalom in all its meanings.

Often when we think of someone who is poor we assume it begins and ends with money. That lack of money is the reason and the solution to poverty, but it is much more than that. Understanding poverty is not something most people seek out to understand, but understanding it in the depths it goes beyond financial stability or instability is crucial.

I am only in the beginning stages of understanding poverty and the effects and life of it. Often I see people very frustrated with seeing or experiencing the poverty of others and I included have been frustrated in similar ways. Yet, the more I seek to understand and learn the veins and arteries of poverty I am shocked by the binding power and control it has emotionally, relationally, mentally and physically.

Why am I thinking all of this now?

Over the last few weeks I have again met face to face with a very real aspect of poverty. I have been seeking to collect signed forms for our March Break Camp coming up very soon. They are not complicated forms, just the basic information; name, age, health card number, emergency contact and such.  It has been the rare exception to receive back a single form that is filled out in completion. Not only that but, it often involves me handing out over 30 forms in order to get 5 returned from a list of 20 kids.

Why? Why such a struggle to fill out a registration form and to get it in by a dead line?

What I don’t always think about when it comes to poverty is the root reasons for the symptoms that I experience with people. The inability to follow through with plans or to make commitments is just a symptom of greater things such as distrust, fear of the unknown, past hurts, disappointments and protecting one’s self from allowing it to happen again. And this makes sense when we think of poverty the way it was defined by Fikkert and Corbett  in the book “When helping hurts”. It has far less to do with money and far more to do with relationship that we so often frequently think and it begins to make more sense.

The way we view poverty will always effect that way we approach it. Always! If my conclusion is simply thinking of another person as lazy I will inevitable treat them in a way that only pushes them into further poverty of relational distrust and fear. Yes, there are a lot of issues when it comes to poverty to consider, but consider this. If I choose to view each person based on their financial state verses their relational state with themselves, God, nature and others I will treat them in every opposing ways. Money is a big issue, but a greater issue is how people understand God’s view of them, their own opinion, the opinion of others around them and the world they are living in. And if I am able to understand this within myself and in others the way I approach things begins to have the ability to restore these things within myself and in others.

Resources about poverty: (because this stuff isn’t all coming from me).

 “When helping hurts” by Corbett and Fikkert

http://killermartinis.kinja.com/why-i-make-terrible-decisions-or-poverty-thoughts-1450123558

https://missionallendale.wordpress.com/2012/09/05/how-would-you-define-and-solve-poverty/

https://www.chalmers.org/our-work/redefining-poverty/what-is-poverty

Open heart, open home, open life.

One of my struggles since moving away from Warden Woods is finding ways to have my home and life open to the youth I work with apart from the hours when I am "at work".
Previously, living only a ten minute walk away from their front doors allowed for random bump in's as well as being able to regularly invite the youth into my home and thus into my life, apart from the hours I was technically working.
That fine line of being a missionary as well as living a missional life. 
For the past month I have been thinking, writing on my to-do-list and mentioning to Chris my desire to have some of the girls over for an evening. He of course supporting this 100% but finding a time proved to be a challenge.
Priorities, such a complex part of life. How to fit in, schedule and arrange only so many minutes, hours and days within a week.
The balance of getting enough sleep to be able to function well, finding time to be in quiet with God, to getting meals cooked. When to meet up with that friend that just keeps getting bumped to the next week, keeping that one night unplanned to order to have a meal with Chris at a decent hour, all the while trying to fit in these things that I really desire.
Last Friday I was able to have two girls over to my home. They were far to excited, it was as if I lived in a mansion. They chattered away in the back seat the whole way, screaming with excitement when we went on the highway.
Everything was amazing to them, from the mirror in the elevator, to my bathroom. It was such a simple and wonderful evening of creating waffles, spilling flour, stuffing faces with whipping cream and surprisingly playing chess.
As we pack up for the trip back to their homes they began making plans for their next visit.
In the midst of ministry moments like these are the ones that refresh and energize me. My prayer is that through the mess of flour spills, full stomachs and being in one another lives that somehow they would know from my life the surpassing love of Jesus for them!

Confession's of a missionary

That frustrating state of feeling purposeless quickly swept over me Friday morning as I was driving into work. Why did I ever think I could be a missionary in the first place? Who was I kidding,

nothing I do makes a difference anyways. 

What was I even working towards? Day in and day out trying to run a good camp. 

Half the kids don't even like camp.

Why do I even bother going into the community, knocking on countless doors only to receive a closed door in return.

I say you do all of these things, but they never amount to anything, you knock but you don't even talk to anyone, what good is that? There are so many better missionaries out there, missionaries who actually do stuff that make a difference.

I pulled up to a high school and sat waiting, passing time listening to accounts of other couples who lived radical lives for Jesus. 

That's what a real missionary is, see how much they are loved and how much they do. They don't sit around in their car and say their working. 

She came running out of the school, "Hey Jello, my lunch ends at 1:18, where are we going?"

What do I say to here, I don't feel very talkative. She's enjoying her meal but this is kind of a waste of time, I should be talking about Jesus or something. I'm not doing this thing very well. 

As the interns left to go pick up the kids  I escaped to my kitchen to finish up dinner.

Why do I even bothering cooking all this food, the kids don't even like it most days.

A volunteers arrives and chatters on to me about her day, I listen and fill her in on the plans for camp today. After awhile of silence she excuses herself to go finish up some homework

I can't even communicate, I'm suppose to be leading these people and I can't even probably carry a conversation with a volunteers, they probably think I am the worst supervisor ever.

First kid arrives, my darling 11 year old early bird. I attempt to talk to her asking her about her day as we played with her remote control car.

This is so shallow.

"Jello," she breaks into my thoughts, "can we spend some time together just you and me after camp some day?"

Why would she want to spend time with me. I don't get it. She just wants to spend time with me. That seems to easy.....

I walk into the gym, it's packed full of kids and youth sitting around the table for dinner together. One  little 5 years old's come running up to me, "Jello, hug," as they quickly embraced me and skipped off. And than another and another. Even little Ty comes bouncing over, wraps his little arms around my waist and smiles up at me "Hi Jello". 

I don't understand, I don't deserve this. Why do these kids love me?

The night rolled on, talent show, multiple dances, jello eating contest, hand stand contest, fear of being on stage met with applauded encouragement and laughter. 

Tears shed and more hugs given, apologize made and forgiveness extended before they all rushed out the door and home again. 

Get over yourself Janelle, this isn't about you.

I joined a young volunteer to finished washing up the forks, plates and cups.

I'm so concerned with how I look to others, what I accomplish and what I think a missionary should be, that my gaze is often stuck on myself rather than on Jesus and His mission. 

Thursday Nights

Last night 11 of us crowded around a small table, shared dipping sauces and passed the bag of chips around the circle. Multiple conversations going on all at once and lots of laughter filled the four cornered cement building  where we meet. 

It isn't fancy, it's a little cold and empty at times. The water only runs cold and so we boil water in order to wash dishes at the end of the evening.  There is a continuous rattling noise which causes much concern and fear for the girls coming from an old heater behind a locked door. But given all of these things we are so excited to finally be able to use this old building that has stood empty for so long in the heart of the community. 

As we began the time of bible study my co-leader asked a follow up question from last week's discussion. "Who do you say that I am?" A question Jesus had asked his followers. 

We waited in that uncomfortable long silence desiring for the youth to share were they thought they were at with Jesus, and who He is to them. We had a back up plan in case no one spoke but it wasn't long before the first brave girl spoke up. "Well I am kind of confused about all that Jesus stuff right now and I just don't know, so I come here to learn more". She quickly turned to her friend and put her on the spot. One by one they all took a turn sharing. "I'm not really talking to Him right now, it's hard", another slowly spoke up, " For me He is Christ and I have accepted him, but I want to learn more". A young man spoke up," I talk to Him when I have no one else and I come here to get away from my family, it's like a second home" another, "I know that He is the Christ but I don't think I have fully accepted Him yet, but I want to get there." Honest, real answers. 

I am so proud of this group of youth and their desire to grow, each in there own place making little brave steps in a good direction whether it's after months of isolating herself, coming out for the first time or being brave enough to ask questions, encouraging one another. I am so thankful for the Thursday evenings I get to spend with this group. 

• Please be praying for myself and Jordan my co-leader as we seek to challenge, grow, love, lead and hold accountable this group of youth through our Thursday night gatherings. 
• Please prayer for the youth as they come out, that it continues to be a place where they feel safe and not judged, a place for them to be real and to learn no matter where they are at.
• Please prayer above all that the Spirit would be present and be moving in the hearts of us all as we dive into the word together.

Rude

The difficult wrestle of self

Self-interest, self- centered

Self- protect, self- controlled

Self-worship, self-lordship

Against all else

No one else matters, no one else cares

No one else controls

No one else has a say

Against authority

They have no say over me

Their opinions determine who I am

Yet have no control over me

Against the King of Kings

He can only be King

As long as He  doesn’t conflict

With what I want

with what I say

Bound tight in these lines

Wrestling for freedom

Only ending more entangled

Burdened by the weight

Sinking deeper as if being crushed

Yet claiming to be standing taller

In control of what I preserve

Of what my mind says

No one can tell me what to do

I listen to no one but myself

Than why dear girl does my voice matter

why little one do you do as I say

 why do you respect me of all people

the only form of authority that holds any weight

She stopped as if caught in a puzzle

And stuttered in what seemed like amazement

I really don't know why I listen to you

Sweet girl don’t you see the ropes entangling you

The lies,

That you have behavior issues

That you are rude

That you are hard, or strong

And that you’ll never amount to much

She nodes in agreement

I am those things she says in controlled pride

I am rude

No sweet girl, you are not rude

Rude is somebody else

They seem to have your name mistaken

 you are dear sweet girl

She laughs out loud

No, I am rude she states

You.......act......rude...

I say slowly

You....are.....not...rude..

Fine, she said with a toss of her head

I, act, rude, she responded mockingly

Do you know what acting is I ask

To pretend

Right, you pretend to be rude

Why would I do that

Because it’s safer,

Safer to be known as rude

To have everyone see you as what you want to be seen as

Rude, tough, strong

I am not tough, she says softly

I know sweet girl, I know

Can these dry bones live?

"Can these dry bones live, Ezekiel"?
I'm sure Ezekiel must have felt a moment of panic as he attempted to answer correctly.
"Only you know Lord".
Seem safe enough, right.
But then it gets interesting, doesn't it.

God instructs Ezekiel to prophecy, to prophecy of the bones coming together, for flesh to cover the bones and than at last he is to prophecy the wind rushing through and breathing life into what was once dead to live.

I wonder how Ezekiel was feeling after all of this? I wonder what went through his mind, his heart. Was he afraid, inspired, I wonder of the impact this had on his life personally.

Recently, I heard a sermon of this passage and for the past week it repeatable runs through my mind and I imagine being asked this question by God as I encounter the "normal" brokenness of this life. "Can this youth ________ live again?"............"can this team of people you love that has faced lose, who are tired and weak, truly find abundant life in Me?"........"can my Spirit truly breath into dead people, life"?

It's the center of the gospel and the pinnacle on which my faith and life anchors on. Do I believe that, truly only God knows but that He is able to breath life over what was once dead to make it live, alive, fully, vibrantly, in Him.

Ezekiel 37:1-14