A couple of weeks ago, in conversation with another church nerd type friend, I decided I was going to try a new hobby. So, under her guidance (as she's a pretty great player) I picked out a new ukulele and, since then, I have been practicing and recording videos about once a week. Here is my latest one, for your viewing pleasure!!!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Whatever you did to the least of these, you did to me...
I don't remember how I got introduced to the writing of Henri Nouwen. I think, being a church person and friends with other church nerd types, I just sort of fell into it. But at once I was drawn to his openness. Especially in the book Wounded Healer he talks about the need to embrace our own weaknesses, our own wounds and hurts, and in so doing we are able to reach out to others in healing. It is in embracing our own places of hurt that we are able to minister to others in their places of hurt.
I am not a perfect person. Far from it, in fact. I have never been very good at pretending to be something I'm not. I've not been very good at pretending to have it all together, or to be perfect or to be extremely self-confident. These things are not always who I am, and I have tried to be honest about that as much as I could. So to read Henri Nouwen, who is honest about his own faults and issues, was refreshing.
In his writings he often speaks of his time spent living at L'Arche Daybreak in Ontario. L'Arche is a community centered around people with developmental disabilities. These people are at the heart of the communities of L'Arche, and so they are called core members. Then there are assistants who live in the communities, as well. They don't just come and spend 8 hours a day, or overnight, at the house. But they strive to make a life in the communities, living and working with the core members and helping them to live a full and meaningful life. I was particularly touched by Nouwen's book Adam: God's Beloved, which chronicled his time spent with Adam, a young man who was a core member at Daybreak.
Since then I've expanded my reading on L'Arche, and I've started reading some of the works of Jean Vanier, who is the founder of the L'Arche movement. I don't know that he was planning on starting something that would someday include 135 member communities in 36 countries and include 5,000 people with and without developmental disabilities who would be sharing their lives together. I think he was just reaching out to two men with developmental disabilities in the town where he lived in France, hoping to offer them a better life than the one they had previously been living in an institutional setting.
But, regardless of what his intentions were, that is what L'Arche is today. It's an international community of people who believe that people with developmental disabilities are exactly that - people. They aren't just a burden, or just people that we need to take care of, but they are people with gifts and wisdom and love to offer.
To me, the more I read about it, L'Arche seems to be an embodiment of the Gospel as Jesus preached it and lived it. The broken, the sick, the weak and lowly ones, are blessed. They are where we meet Jesus face to face. It is in the places and among the people that society often ignores or despises where we will interact with Jesus. It is in reaching out to these people where our own hearts will be transformed.
"Every child, every person, needs to know they are a source of joy; every child, every person, needs to be celebrated." -- Jean Vanier
I am not a perfect person. Far from it, in fact. I have never been very good at pretending to be something I'm not. I've not been very good at pretending to have it all together, or to be perfect or to be extremely self-confident. These things are not always who I am, and I have tried to be honest about that as much as I could. So to read Henri Nouwen, who is honest about his own faults and issues, was refreshing.
In his writings he often speaks of his time spent living at L'Arche Daybreak in Ontario. L'Arche is a community centered around people with developmental disabilities. These people are at the heart of the communities of L'Arche, and so they are called core members. Then there are assistants who live in the communities, as well. They don't just come and spend 8 hours a day, or overnight, at the house. But they strive to make a life in the communities, living and working with the core members and helping them to live a full and meaningful life. I was particularly touched by Nouwen's book Adam: God's Beloved, which chronicled his time spent with Adam, a young man who was a core member at Daybreak.
Since then I've expanded my reading on L'Arche, and I've started reading some of the works of Jean Vanier, who is the founder of the L'Arche movement. I don't know that he was planning on starting something that would someday include 135 member communities in 36 countries and include 5,000 people with and without developmental disabilities who would be sharing their lives together. I think he was just reaching out to two men with developmental disabilities in the town where he lived in France, hoping to offer them a better life than the one they had previously been living in an institutional setting.
But, regardless of what his intentions were, that is what L'Arche is today. It's an international community of people who believe that people with developmental disabilities are exactly that - people. They aren't just a burden, or just people that we need to take care of, but they are people with gifts and wisdom and love to offer.
To me, the more I read about it, L'Arche seems to be an embodiment of the Gospel as Jesus preached it and lived it. The broken, the sick, the weak and lowly ones, are blessed. They are where we meet Jesus face to face. It is in the places and among the people that society often ignores or despises where we will interact with Jesus. It is in reaching out to these people where our own hearts will be transformed.
"Every child, every person, needs to know they are a source of joy; every child, every person, needs to be celebrated." -- Jean Vanier
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Watch my head spin!
The other day I pulled down the old Occasional Services book from my shelf. That's the book that has various services that we don't do as often in the church, so we do them occasionally... hence the title. You can find the service for a Funeral in there, or blessings for various occasions. I didn't need it for any of those things. No, my friends. I needed it for something far more dire.
An exorcism.
Unfortunately, I did not find what I needed. So, I'm afraid that my house is still being tormented by an evil spirit. An evil spirit with fangs and claws and yellow eyes that seem to glow in the dark. An evil spirit in the form of...
a kitten.
You see, several months ago I decided to adopt a kitten. So I got this furry little guy, and I named him Winston, and he was a little crazy but he soon mellowed out (I think after his most recent visit to the vet, where they did a little snip, was what really did it). But a couple months ago I decided I needed to get Winston a friend, and a family from church just happened to have a cat that had kittens. So I went over to their house and met the three kittens and picked out the one I wanted, and a few weeks later she showed up at my door. When she was born, the family thought she might be a boy so they named her Stewart. Then they found out she was, in fact, a girl but the name stuck. I thought it was cute, so I kept it.
For the first few days she was adorable. She was still checking out the place, and she was a little afraid, so I'd find her huddled under blankets or in little nooks and crannies. But she soon adjusted to me and the house and Winston.
And that, my friends, is when all hell broke loose.
She is constantly knocking things off of shelves and off of the table. If there is one place she shouldn't be, that is where I will find her. I was emptying the dishwasher the other day, I opened it up turned my back for a second and when I turned around she was already trying to climb in. She spends most of her time hanging from the curtains and when she's not doing that she's trying to shred the couch or devour my shoes. She mercilessly chases Winston through the house. I have a scratches on my arm from her that look like they could have come from a mountain lion. For a while she refused to use the litter box and decided to relieve herself in as many places that weren't her litter box as she could. I woke up one morning to see that she had knocked a houseplant off of a shelf and proceeded to spread the dirt all over the dining room floor. I mean all over. It was like wall to wall carpeting but with dirt. And if that wasn't enough, that same morning I went to put on the sweater I had laid out and she apparently had decided that was the best place to pee that morning. Friends told me that to discourage her bad behavior I should use a spray bottle full of water. So I tried that. It didn't really seem to deter her much, no matter how many times I would spray her. She'd be climbing the curtain, I'd spray her with the bottle and she would jump down and run away. Not two seconds later she would be back on the curtain, thrashing around as if she were in the fight of her life. So I would spray her again, this time twice rather than just once, and she'd retreat again. But just as soon as I sat back down she'd be back up on that curtain. Eventually, I'd have a soaking wet kitten who was still attacking the curtains. One of her worst offenses, however, is when she tore into a bag of my powdered sugar donuts and ate some of them. I know it was her because Winston refuses to eat anything that isn't his cat food. Stewart will eat just about anything. I've had to stop her from eating styrofoam peanuts.
The thing that really makes me believe she might be the devil is that she's so darn cute. Her little grey, fuzzy body and her cute white, fuzzy face. Her big eyes that look up at you and her cute little meow. You'd look at her and wonder how something that cute could ever do anything bad.
But that's just what she wants you to think.
An exorcism.
Unfortunately, I did not find what I needed. So, I'm afraid that my house is still being tormented by an evil spirit. An evil spirit with fangs and claws and yellow eyes that seem to glow in the dark. An evil spirit in the form of...
a kitten.
You see, several months ago I decided to adopt a kitten. So I got this furry little guy, and I named him Winston, and he was a little crazy but he soon mellowed out (I think after his most recent visit to the vet, where they did a little snip, was what really did it). But a couple months ago I decided I needed to get Winston a friend, and a family from church just happened to have a cat that had kittens. So I went over to their house and met the three kittens and picked out the one I wanted, and a few weeks later she showed up at my door. When she was born, the family thought she might be a boy so they named her Stewart. Then they found out she was, in fact, a girl but the name stuck. I thought it was cute, so I kept it.
For the first few days she was adorable. She was still checking out the place, and she was a little afraid, so I'd find her huddled under blankets or in little nooks and crannies. But she soon adjusted to me and the house and Winston.
And that, my friends, is when all hell broke loose.
She is constantly knocking things off of shelves and off of the table. If there is one place she shouldn't be, that is where I will find her. I was emptying the dishwasher the other day, I opened it up turned my back for a second and when I turned around she was already trying to climb in. She spends most of her time hanging from the curtains and when she's not doing that she's trying to shred the couch or devour my shoes. She mercilessly chases Winston through the house. I have a scratches on my arm from her that look like they could have come from a mountain lion. For a while she refused to use the litter box and decided to relieve herself in as many places that weren't her litter box as she could. I woke up one morning to see that she had knocked a houseplant off of a shelf and proceeded to spread the dirt all over the dining room floor. I mean all over. It was like wall to wall carpeting but with dirt. And if that wasn't enough, that same morning I went to put on the sweater I had laid out and she apparently had decided that was the best place to pee that morning. Friends told me that to discourage her bad behavior I should use a spray bottle full of water. So I tried that. It didn't really seem to deter her much, no matter how many times I would spray her. She'd be climbing the curtain, I'd spray her with the bottle and she would jump down and run away. Not two seconds later she would be back on the curtain, thrashing around as if she were in the fight of her life. So I would spray her again, this time twice rather than just once, and she'd retreat again. But just as soon as I sat back down she'd be back up on that curtain. Eventually, I'd have a soaking wet kitten who was still attacking the curtains. One of her worst offenses, however, is when she tore into a bag of my powdered sugar donuts and ate some of them. I know it was her because Winston refuses to eat anything that isn't his cat food. Stewart will eat just about anything. I've had to stop her from eating styrofoam peanuts.
The thing that really makes me believe she might be the devil is that she's so darn cute. Her little grey, fuzzy body and her cute white, fuzzy face. Her big eyes that look up at you and her cute little meow. You'd look at her and wonder how something that cute could ever do anything bad.
But that's just what she wants you to think.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
full blast
I haven't been the best at blogging lately.
So, here's a rundown of what has happened since last I've written.
Camp was good and great and a lot of fun. It was very different from the last time I was there, new buildings, new landscaping, new roads... I even got turned around at one point, which is something that has never happened and I never expected to happen. It was a little tough to see these changes, to know that camp is not the camp it was when I worked there. But people change, their expectations and needs change, the times change... camp has to change, too. It's a pretty great, state of the art facility there now, but in my conversation with the fulltime staff, they still have a deep love for camp, and the spirit has stayed the same.
Also while I was there I reconnected with some friends and met a few new ones. It's weird to see people that, when last we spent time together, they were young and single and now they have kids. I kind of attached myself to two of my friends, and their family. They said I became their fourth child that weekend. I got along quite well with their 9, 6 and 4 year old kids. We had a great time. After the reunion I got to spend some time with good friends who were unable to make it. We met up and had good italian food and sat on the deck and reminisced and shared stories of what is going on in our lives now.
Then I got back to church and work exploded in my face and I've been running around like a mad man trying to make sure everything is ready for the arrival of fall scheduling. And I feel like I'm barely treading water at this point. So I really shouldn't be blogging at all. But it's almost lunch time, so I think I can afford a couple minutes.
Confirmation has started, Sunday School has started, and we're trying to come up with some events and activities to get the high schoolers to stay active. We can get 25 or so to go on a mission trip in the summer, but we lose them during the year. Stupid school and extra curricular activities get in the way and kids give them priority over church. I sent an e-mail to a group of high schoolers asking what they'd like to see us offer here at church, what would they be interested in doing, and then I told them I miss them. Because I do. I can't spend a week with you, getting to know you and having a good time, and then all of the sudden stop seeing you and not miss you. It's not the way I work.
So now I have to finish planning Confirmation for tomorrow, plan the worship service for Sunday, and write my sermon. Maybe I should get on that.
So, here's a rundown of what has happened since last I've written.
Camp was good and great and a lot of fun. It was very different from the last time I was there, new buildings, new landscaping, new roads... I even got turned around at one point, which is something that has never happened and I never expected to happen. It was a little tough to see these changes, to know that camp is not the camp it was when I worked there. But people change, their expectations and needs change, the times change... camp has to change, too. It's a pretty great, state of the art facility there now, but in my conversation with the fulltime staff, they still have a deep love for camp, and the spirit has stayed the same.
Also while I was there I reconnected with some friends and met a few new ones. It's weird to see people that, when last we spent time together, they were young and single and now they have kids. I kind of attached myself to two of my friends, and their family. They said I became their fourth child that weekend. I got along quite well with their 9, 6 and 4 year old kids. We had a great time. After the reunion I got to spend some time with good friends who were unable to make it. We met up and had good italian food and sat on the deck and reminisced and shared stories of what is going on in our lives now.
Then I got back to church and work exploded in my face and I've been running around like a mad man trying to make sure everything is ready for the arrival of fall scheduling. And I feel like I'm barely treading water at this point. So I really shouldn't be blogging at all. But it's almost lunch time, so I think I can afford a couple minutes.
Confirmation has started, Sunday School has started, and we're trying to come up with some events and activities to get the high schoolers to stay active. We can get 25 or so to go on a mission trip in the summer, but we lose them during the year. Stupid school and extra curricular activities get in the way and kids give them priority over church. I sent an e-mail to a group of high schoolers asking what they'd like to see us offer here at church, what would they be interested in doing, and then I told them I miss them. Because I do. I can't spend a week with you, getting to know you and having a good time, and then all of the sudden stop seeing you and not miss you. It's not the way I work.
So now I have to finish planning Confirmation for tomorrow, plan the worship service for Sunday, and write my sermon. Maybe I should get on that.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
on my way home
This year marks the 12th anniversary of my first summer as a camp counselor. I know I've written about this numerous times, and if there are still any faithful followers of my blog they are probably tired of hearing the story. Or they could tell you it themselves.
But I, like a good portion of other professional ministry types, can trace my call to ministry back to those days as a camp counselor. I whole-heartedly believe that camp was what set that ball rolling, what ignited that spark inside me.
I ended up working there for three consecutive summers and then decided to enter the real world and become a youth minister. So I missed out on a summer, but then the following year is when I ended up leaving that congregation and I headed back out to camp for the second half of the summer. Immediately after that summer I moved up to seminary, took the scenic route through and graduated in five years, and then came to my current congregation where I have been for three years. It has been eight years since I worked as a camp counselor. It has been eight years since I had the opportunity to work at one of my favorite jobs ever. Sure, I've visited other camps, and I've done other work with youth. I've taken my confirmation kids to camp for a week every summer that I've been here. I have started serving on the Board of Directors for that camp (although they have a knack for scheduling meetings for when I am unable to attend...). But none of that has quite captured the magic of working as a summer camp counselor. There's that sense of community, of being united in a purpose, of enthusiasm and energy. And, of course, there is the fact that you're putting a bunch of college aged kids together for the summer. All sorts of craziness is bound to happen!
So, it's been eight years since I have worked as a camp counselor. And probably about half that since I have even visited. Much has changed since my glory days there. There is a new state of the art retreat center, the office building has been changed from a small, rambling house to a very nice and modern (yet with that camp vibe) resource center, and the retreat center that was well-loved and used before the new one was built has been renovated and added onto.
And now, eight years later, I am headed back. Not to work or to spend the summer, but just for a couple of days. They are having a celebration of their 30 years of ministry, and they are hosting a big event and inviting all the past staff to come and celebrate. I am excited. I have been looking forward to this day since they had their 20th anniversary celebration and reunion in 1999, when I was a counselor. I cannot wait to be in that place, to set my feet on that holy ground, to breathe in that air and to reacquaint myself with this place that has meant so much to me.
I've also been asked if I would share a message during a campfire one evening. I have done this before... but at other camps. And this campfire is taking place at one of my favorite places at camp, a place that I remember being as a counselor and listening as pastors and youth directors got up and shared reflections and messages during the summers. And now I will be the one standing in the middle, in that same spot, sharing a message with those gathered. I know it will go well, but I am still nervous!!!
I head out tomorrow to drive back to Nebraska. I will be visiting family for a couple days before I make my way to camp. I'm not sure if I'll be able to wait that long, though, and I might stop in on my way through. But you can expect another update about my time and perhaps even pictures! I am sure I will take plenty!
But I, like a good portion of other professional ministry types, can trace my call to ministry back to those days as a camp counselor. I whole-heartedly believe that camp was what set that ball rolling, what ignited that spark inside me.
I ended up working there for three consecutive summers and then decided to enter the real world and become a youth minister. So I missed out on a summer, but then the following year is when I ended up leaving that congregation and I headed back out to camp for the second half of the summer. Immediately after that summer I moved up to seminary, took the scenic route through and graduated in five years, and then came to my current congregation where I have been for three years. It has been eight years since I worked as a camp counselor. It has been eight years since I had the opportunity to work at one of my favorite jobs ever. Sure, I've visited other camps, and I've done other work with youth. I've taken my confirmation kids to camp for a week every summer that I've been here. I have started serving on the Board of Directors for that camp (although they have a knack for scheduling meetings for when I am unable to attend...). But none of that has quite captured the magic of working as a summer camp counselor. There's that sense of community, of being united in a purpose, of enthusiasm and energy. And, of course, there is the fact that you're putting a bunch of college aged kids together for the summer. All sorts of craziness is bound to happen!
So, it's been eight years since I have worked as a camp counselor. And probably about half that since I have even visited. Much has changed since my glory days there. There is a new state of the art retreat center, the office building has been changed from a small, rambling house to a very nice and modern (yet with that camp vibe) resource center, and the retreat center that was well-loved and used before the new one was built has been renovated and added onto.
And now, eight years later, I am headed back. Not to work or to spend the summer, but just for a couple of days. They are having a celebration of their 30 years of ministry, and they are hosting a big event and inviting all the past staff to come and celebrate. I am excited. I have been looking forward to this day since they had their 20th anniversary celebration and reunion in 1999, when I was a counselor. I cannot wait to be in that place, to set my feet on that holy ground, to breathe in that air and to reacquaint myself with this place that has meant so much to me.
I've also been asked if I would share a message during a campfire one evening. I have done this before... but at other camps. And this campfire is taking place at one of my favorite places at camp, a place that I remember being as a counselor and listening as pastors and youth directors got up and shared reflections and messages during the summers. And now I will be the one standing in the middle, in that same spot, sharing a message with those gathered. I know it will go well, but I am still nervous!!!
I head out tomorrow to drive back to Nebraska. I will be visiting family for a couple days before I make my way to camp. I'm not sure if I'll be able to wait that long, though, and I might stop in on my way through. But you can expect another update about my time and perhaps even pictures! I am sure I will take plenty!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
the promised follow up
I said, in my previous blog post, that I was going to post more about my experience with the Denver Rescue Mission. What better time to do that then the day before I leave on another trip when I should be packing or going to bed? I'm not sure I can think of one!
We were only there for two short days, but they impacted all of us. I'm not sure I can adequately put into words the effect that this experience had on me. But I will definitely try.
Let me start by telling you the basics - what we did while we were there. As soon as we got there, which was around 10, we got to work getting ready for lunch. Some of us chopped fruits and vegetables for fruit salads and lettuce salads. Some of us made lemonade or cut pork and potatoes. Some of us sorted bread and desserts. Some of us rolled silverware into napkins. Some of us also spent time in the laundry room folding sheets. But we kept working and moving doing stuff to get ready for lunch. Then we got everything in place so that we could begin serving when 12:00 rolled around. As soon as it did, we opened the doors and began ushering people in to eat.
When lunch started, I was in charge of handing out silverware and using a clicker to count how many people came in. We served five at a time, so I'd pick up five pieces of silverware and hand them out as the people walked in, and then I'd click the clicker 5 times. This gave me a great opportunity to chat with the people as they entered. We didn't really have time to talk about much, but we'd talk about the weather, or the food, or how it was important to have a clicker to keep track of numbers. We served more than a hundred people each day, I think the second day had more with around 170. The other people working there said that they were slow days, that they usually had over 200 people coming in for lunch.
When lunch was over, we'd clean up and then go back to working on other things. The first day we were there, they got a huge donation of food so I spent a lot of time sorting bread. We'd separate them into categories such as sandwich bread, french bread, hot dog buns, hamburger buns, etc. and then we'd stack them on pallets against the wall. At one point I said that I was surrounded by more bread than I'd ever seen in one place in my life. Our second day we went out and got a tour of the neighborhood and picked up garbage.
It was surprising to me how much of the work we did surrounded food. We were always chopping and mixing and sorting and slicing and getting stuff ready for the different meals. But then I guess that makes sense, that if they feed 150-200 people three times a day, that a lot of work would go in to preparing the food. And it was good food. We would make sack lunches everyday, but when we were at the Mission we were given the option to eat there for lunch. Both days I chose that option, and I was pleasantly surprised with the food. It was good, considering how much of it they made everyday. If we didn't eat our sack lunch, we had the option of taking it across the street to Triangle Park and sharing it with the people who were over there.
Denver Rescue Mission also has a residential drug rehabilitation program as part of its ministries and we worked alongside of the men in this program in our daily duties. It was amazing, and eye opening, to hear the stories of these guys, what they had gone through, often times how they had almost died, and then how they had ended up at the mission and how they were working to turn their lives around and what their dreams and hopes were now. One guy I got to know quite well said that he hoped to be a youth pastor in a church, so that he could work with kids who were the age he was when he fell into drug abuse. It was awesome to hear these stories of resurrection and redemption, and I hope that these guys continue on the path toward new life.
One thing that hit me after seeing the people that the Mission serves is how alike we were. Many of them had good jobs and families and friends before something unpredictable happened, before circumstances in their life took a turn for the worse and they were unable to cope or to recover from them, and then they ended up homeless and living in Denver. It's like that quote, "There but for the grace of God go I." As I looked around at all of those various faces and people, I realized that I was lucky to be on the other side of that crate of silverware. I was fortunate to be the one handing it out. But I could very easily be on the other side, as the one receiving it. Life is unpredictable. You never know when you might get thrown a curveball.
It's like I said before, I don't think I can adequately put into words the effect that those two days had, and continues to have, on me. Those experiences continue to weigh on my heart, and continue to make me ponder and pray about a lot of things. I'm not sure what this means for my journey, but it will be interesting to find out.
We were only there for two short days, but they impacted all of us. I'm not sure I can adequately put into words the effect that this experience had on me. But I will definitely try.
Let me start by telling you the basics - what we did while we were there. As soon as we got there, which was around 10, we got to work getting ready for lunch. Some of us chopped fruits and vegetables for fruit salads and lettuce salads. Some of us made lemonade or cut pork and potatoes. Some of us sorted bread and desserts. Some of us rolled silverware into napkins. Some of us also spent time in the laundry room folding sheets. But we kept working and moving doing stuff to get ready for lunch. Then we got everything in place so that we could begin serving when 12:00 rolled around. As soon as it did, we opened the doors and began ushering people in to eat.
When lunch started, I was in charge of handing out silverware and using a clicker to count how many people came in. We served five at a time, so I'd pick up five pieces of silverware and hand them out as the people walked in, and then I'd click the clicker 5 times. This gave me a great opportunity to chat with the people as they entered. We didn't really have time to talk about much, but we'd talk about the weather, or the food, or how it was important to have a clicker to keep track of numbers. We served more than a hundred people each day, I think the second day had more with around 170. The other people working there said that they were slow days, that they usually had over 200 people coming in for lunch.
When lunch was over, we'd clean up and then go back to working on other things. The first day we were there, they got a huge donation of food so I spent a lot of time sorting bread. We'd separate them into categories such as sandwich bread, french bread, hot dog buns, hamburger buns, etc. and then we'd stack them on pallets against the wall. At one point I said that I was surrounded by more bread than I'd ever seen in one place in my life. Our second day we went out and got a tour of the neighborhood and picked up garbage.
It was surprising to me how much of the work we did surrounded food. We were always chopping and mixing and sorting and slicing and getting stuff ready for the different meals. But then I guess that makes sense, that if they feed 150-200 people three times a day, that a lot of work would go in to preparing the food. And it was good food. We would make sack lunches everyday, but when we were at the Mission we were given the option to eat there for lunch. Both days I chose that option, and I was pleasantly surprised with the food. It was good, considering how much of it they made everyday. If we didn't eat our sack lunch, we had the option of taking it across the street to Triangle Park and sharing it with the people who were over there.
Denver Rescue Mission also has a residential drug rehabilitation program as part of its ministries and we worked alongside of the men in this program in our daily duties. It was amazing, and eye opening, to hear the stories of these guys, what they had gone through, often times how they had almost died, and then how they had ended up at the mission and how they were working to turn their lives around and what their dreams and hopes were now. One guy I got to know quite well said that he hoped to be a youth pastor in a church, so that he could work with kids who were the age he was when he fell into drug abuse. It was awesome to hear these stories of resurrection and redemption, and I hope that these guys continue on the path toward new life.
One thing that hit me after seeing the people that the Mission serves is how alike we were. Many of them had good jobs and families and friends before something unpredictable happened, before circumstances in their life took a turn for the worse and they were unable to cope or to recover from them, and then they ended up homeless and living in Denver. It's like that quote, "There but for the grace of God go I." As I looked around at all of those various faces and people, I realized that I was lucky to be on the other side of that crate of silverware. I was fortunate to be the one handing it out. But I could very easily be on the other side, as the one receiving it. Life is unpredictable. You never know when you might get thrown a curveball.
It's like I said before, I don't think I can adequately put into words the effect that those two days had, and continues to have, on me. Those experiences continue to weigh on my heart, and continue to make me ponder and pray about a lot of things. I'm not sure what this means for my journey, but it will be interesting to find out.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
i have returned!
I came.
I saw.
I'm tired.
We returned from our mission trip to Denver today. As in about 4 hours ago. It was quite the experience. Allow me to tell you a bit about it.
We set off last Sunday at 4am. We took three 15 passenger vans (one with a rear seat taken out to allow for extra storage space), a trailer and a car. The car came along because one of our adults had a relative who was not doing well and she brought her car just in case something should happen during the week and she would need to come back for a funeral.
We drove through southwest Minnesota, northwest Iowa, most of Nebraska and eastern Colorado. In my van, we were excited because for the beginning part of the ride we were ahead of schedule. That meant we might actually make it to one of our mission trips early, instead of rolling in right at the last minute when they are wanting to start serving supper. And we were doing good until about lunchtime when we were in Nebraska and were wanting to stop at a Runza, which is one of my favorite restaurants and are only found in Nebraska, except for a few other locations (like, four) in Iowa, Kansas and Colorado. It wasn't even my idea to stop there, it was another adult leader in my van. So that made me even happier.
So on our way to Runza we noticed one of our vans was not following us. Turns out that the people in that van had to use the restroom, so the driver had pulled off assuming we'd continue to follow the directions we had printed out, not realizing we were planning on a lunch stop. So about 45ish minutes later they arrived at the restaurant and ordered their food. So much for being ahead of schedule.
After driving through Nebraska, and eastern Colorado, and after a few more restroom breaks (a few too many, if you ask me) we rolled into the church parking lot right when they were wanting to start serving supper. It never fails. This is our way, apparently.
After supper we had an adult orientation meeting (I knew what was going to happen. This is my third mission trip through this organization. I'm an old pro.) and then we had to assign our youth and adults to work crews. I knew that one of the sites was the Denver Rescue Mission, and I desperately wanted to go there, so I made sure I was the adult assigned from our church to that crew. Then we placed everyone else in a fairly quick and random way. Our main criteria was not putting large groups of friends in the same crew. This turned out to be a fairly serendipitous process. How's that for a big word?
Then after our meeting we went downstairs for Club (singing and listening to a speaker) and then church group time before heading for bed. Then Monday began our work days. And Monday is the day I first ventured to the Denver Rescue Mission. This was an amazing experience, which I'm still processing and thinking about, and it will get a post of its own. So no more about that now.
Monday night we ended up heading to Lookout Mountain, in the foothills of the Rockies, for some fun and we also had club out there. It was a great experience for the kids, many of whom had not been to mountains before, and even those that had enjoyed it. I love mountains so I was happy to be there, as well.
Tuesday I went back to the Denver Rescue Mission in the morning, and then in the evening we had guest speakers come and talk to us. The main guy used to work at the Denver Rescue Mission and I think all of the other guys had gone through the Mission and shared their experiences of being homeless and/or addicted to drugs. The kids were mesmerized by the speakers and I got a chance to talk with the main guy afterwards for a bit. It was good to talk to him and to process some things that I had experienced.
Wednesday we changed work sites and worked with Brothers' Redevelopment, which is an organization in Denver that works with elderly, disabled and low income people to help them do things that they are either unable to do or cannot afford. So Wednesday we drove over to an older couples' house and painted the trim on their house for them. This took us until about 11am. I guess we finished much earlier than they were expecting, and so we spent most of the rest of the morning and afternoon in the car. After eating our lunch we set out to join the other crew who was working with Brothers that day, but due to an accident on the highway, and our foreman trying to avoid it, it took us nearly an hour to get to the other crew. So we filled in for them painting a stucco house while they took a break and ate their lunches. Then we went back to wash off our brushes and unload the truck before going to take our daily showers.
Now providing showers for this many people can be tricky, I know. Often times they rely on community centers and schools to open their spaces to them for such reasons. The first two days we showered at a community center in communal showers. When we switched work sites we were told that we would need to go to a different facility for showers. This was a recreation center and we had been told that the showers were private. So we were excited about this. When we walked into the locker room, we were greeted by a small, cramped room with about an inch of standing water on the floor. About five young boys had come in from the pool and were just standing under the four nozzles of the shower, which was very much communal and not at all private. As we stood there, after our long and frustrating day, wanting nothing more than to take a shower, we stood there and looked at these boys in defeat and disappointment. But, we showered, and were thankful for a shower, and then we went to a Sonic Drive-In for food afterwards. I thought the kids in my crew deserved it.
That night we went to a church service at a local congregation. It was packed full of kids and parents and was abnormally hot. Us poor Minnesotans thought we were going to melt. They had a lot of music provided by young men and women from the congregation, and they had some really great young dancers strut their stuff. The outreach pastor got up and shared a message which was good, although I was a little disappointed in him because, in an attempt to get the kids to be quiet during his message, he said, "Remember, no talking when I'm talking. If I see you talking while I am trying to talk I will embarrass you." Nothing better than embarrassing a kid to get them excited to go to church.
On the way back to the church, I witnessed an automobile accident. The jeep in front of us (luckily a little ways in front of us) hit the front end of a car that had pulled out into the intersection too far. I just happened to glance up and see it right as it happened, and I said, "Holy S***, Kirk, that was just an accident!" The driver hadn't noticed it right away and he slammed on the brakes. Yes, I admit I cursed, but I had just witnessed an accident. And besides, the kids in my car didn't hear it. I got out and saw that everyone was ok, and we waited around for the fire fighters and police officers to arrive. Because I hadn't seen enough of what had happened prior to the accident I didn't need to stick around very long, but it was long enough for the staff members and our other church members to drive by and see the firetrucks and police cars around our van. So, needless to say, they freaked out. But when they saw that everything was ok, they were thankful, and I got thanked numerous times for being calm in the midst of this.
Thursday we went back to Brothers and actually spent an entire day painting one house. We then went back to the same shower facility, but we were prepared for it this time. Thankfully (maybe) there was already a guy showering when we got there, and as he was naked this discouraged the boys from coming into the shower. As I was getting ready to go into the shower one young boy came in from the pool, walked into the shower, stopped in his tracks and declared "Ew! Nasty!" Before running back out to the pool. After showers we drove back out to the Rescue Mission to say hi to our friends and to invite them to our community cookout that night. I'll write more about this in my other post, as well.
Thursday evening is always footwashing worship. After we hear the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet, the staff members wash the adult leaders feet and then we wash the feet of our young people. It's always a moving experience. It seems to bring a lot of emotion to the surface and the kids can start to cry. We had our share of tears, but not as much as we had when we took our mission trip to Pennsylvania. That was a little crazy that year.
Friday we cleaned up the church and said our goodbyes and took a drive to Pike's Peak. We figured since we were near the mountains it would be a shame not to go there. So we did. And it was a lot of fun and the kids enjoyed it. Afterwards we started our drive home and 25 hours of driving later, we made it.
Needless to say, I am thankful to not have to ride or drive or sleep in a van for a while. But I miss the experiences and people of this past week, especially those from the Rescue Mission. All of our kids had great experiences and many of them are already talking about our trip next summer. I have to say, you can't beat doing a mission trip through an organization that provides for all the details, feeds and houses your kids, sets up the mission work opportunities, and also helps the youth process what they've done and seen, all while doing it in such a way that makes our kids want to keep coming back and also invite their friends. But most of all it is amazing to see the changes in the young people after they experience a week of Christian service. I feel like I should copy one of those Mastercard commercials and talk about how much we spent on registration and van rentals and whatnot, but the overall result - the changes in the lives of our young people - is priceless.
I saw.
I'm tired.
We returned from our mission trip to Denver today. As in about 4 hours ago. It was quite the experience. Allow me to tell you a bit about it.
We set off last Sunday at 4am. We took three 15 passenger vans (one with a rear seat taken out to allow for extra storage space), a trailer and a car. The car came along because one of our adults had a relative who was not doing well and she brought her car just in case something should happen during the week and she would need to come back for a funeral.
We drove through southwest Minnesota, northwest Iowa, most of Nebraska and eastern Colorado. In my van, we were excited because for the beginning part of the ride we were ahead of schedule. That meant we might actually make it to one of our mission trips early, instead of rolling in right at the last minute when they are wanting to start serving supper. And we were doing good until about lunchtime when we were in Nebraska and were wanting to stop at a Runza, which is one of my favorite restaurants and are only found in Nebraska, except for a few other locations (like, four) in Iowa, Kansas and Colorado. It wasn't even my idea to stop there, it was another adult leader in my van. So that made me even happier.
So on our way to Runza we noticed one of our vans was not following us. Turns out that the people in that van had to use the restroom, so the driver had pulled off assuming we'd continue to follow the directions we had printed out, not realizing we were planning on a lunch stop. So about 45ish minutes later they arrived at the restaurant and ordered their food. So much for being ahead of schedule.
After driving through Nebraska, and eastern Colorado, and after a few more restroom breaks (a few too many, if you ask me) we rolled into the church parking lot right when they were wanting to start serving supper. It never fails. This is our way, apparently.
After supper we had an adult orientation meeting (I knew what was going to happen. This is my third mission trip through this organization. I'm an old pro.) and then we had to assign our youth and adults to work crews. I knew that one of the sites was the Denver Rescue Mission, and I desperately wanted to go there, so I made sure I was the adult assigned from our church to that crew. Then we placed everyone else in a fairly quick and random way. Our main criteria was not putting large groups of friends in the same crew. This turned out to be a fairly serendipitous process. How's that for a big word?
Then after our meeting we went downstairs for Club (singing and listening to a speaker) and then church group time before heading for bed. Then Monday began our work days. And Monday is the day I first ventured to the Denver Rescue Mission. This was an amazing experience, which I'm still processing and thinking about, and it will get a post of its own. So no more about that now.
Monday night we ended up heading to Lookout Mountain, in the foothills of the Rockies, for some fun and we also had club out there. It was a great experience for the kids, many of whom had not been to mountains before, and even those that had enjoyed it. I love mountains so I was happy to be there, as well.
Tuesday I went back to the Denver Rescue Mission in the morning, and then in the evening we had guest speakers come and talk to us. The main guy used to work at the Denver Rescue Mission and I think all of the other guys had gone through the Mission and shared their experiences of being homeless and/or addicted to drugs. The kids were mesmerized by the speakers and I got a chance to talk with the main guy afterwards for a bit. It was good to talk to him and to process some things that I had experienced.
Wednesday we changed work sites and worked with Brothers' Redevelopment, which is an organization in Denver that works with elderly, disabled and low income people to help them do things that they are either unable to do or cannot afford. So Wednesday we drove over to an older couples' house and painted the trim on their house for them. This took us until about 11am. I guess we finished much earlier than they were expecting, and so we spent most of the rest of the morning and afternoon in the car. After eating our lunch we set out to join the other crew who was working with Brothers that day, but due to an accident on the highway, and our foreman trying to avoid it, it took us nearly an hour to get to the other crew. So we filled in for them painting a stucco house while they took a break and ate their lunches. Then we went back to wash off our brushes and unload the truck before going to take our daily showers.
Now providing showers for this many people can be tricky, I know. Often times they rely on community centers and schools to open their spaces to them for such reasons. The first two days we showered at a community center in communal showers. When we switched work sites we were told that we would need to go to a different facility for showers. This was a recreation center and we had been told that the showers were private. So we were excited about this. When we walked into the locker room, we were greeted by a small, cramped room with about an inch of standing water on the floor. About five young boys had come in from the pool and were just standing under the four nozzles of the shower, which was very much communal and not at all private. As we stood there, after our long and frustrating day, wanting nothing more than to take a shower, we stood there and looked at these boys in defeat and disappointment. But, we showered, and were thankful for a shower, and then we went to a Sonic Drive-In for food afterwards. I thought the kids in my crew deserved it.
That night we went to a church service at a local congregation. It was packed full of kids and parents and was abnormally hot. Us poor Minnesotans thought we were going to melt. They had a lot of music provided by young men and women from the congregation, and they had some really great young dancers strut their stuff. The outreach pastor got up and shared a message which was good, although I was a little disappointed in him because, in an attempt to get the kids to be quiet during his message, he said, "Remember, no talking when I'm talking. If I see you talking while I am trying to talk I will embarrass you." Nothing better than embarrassing a kid to get them excited to go to church.
On the way back to the church, I witnessed an automobile accident. The jeep in front of us (luckily a little ways in front of us) hit the front end of a car that had pulled out into the intersection too far. I just happened to glance up and see it right as it happened, and I said, "Holy S***, Kirk, that was just an accident!" The driver hadn't noticed it right away and he slammed on the brakes. Yes, I admit I cursed, but I had just witnessed an accident. And besides, the kids in my car didn't hear it. I got out and saw that everyone was ok, and we waited around for the fire fighters and police officers to arrive. Because I hadn't seen enough of what had happened prior to the accident I didn't need to stick around very long, but it was long enough for the staff members and our other church members to drive by and see the firetrucks and police cars around our van. So, needless to say, they freaked out. But when they saw that everything was ok, they were thankful, and I got thanked numerous times for being calm in the midst of this.
Thursday we went back to Brothers and actually spent an entire day painting one house. We then went back to the same shower facility, but we were prepared for it this time. Thankfully (maybe) there was already a guy showering when we got there, and as he was naked this discouraged the boys from coming into the shower. As I was getting ready to go into the shower one young boy came in from the pool, walked into the shower, stopped in his tracks and declared "Ew! Nasty!" Before running back out to the pool. After showers we drove back out to the Rescue Mission to say hi to our friends and to invite them to our community cookout that night. I'll write more about this in my other post, as well.
Thursday evening is always footwashing worship. After we hear the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet, the staff members wash the adult leaders feet and then we wash the feet of our young people. It's always a moving experience. It seems to bring a lot of emotion to the surface and the kids can start to cry. We had our share of tears, but not as much as we had when we took our mission trip to Pennsylvania. That was a little crazy that year.
Friday we cleaned up the church and said our goodbyes and took a drive to Pike's Peak. We figured since we were near the mountains it would be a shame not to go there. So we did. And it was a lot of fun and the kids enjoyed it. Afterwards we started our drive home and 25 hours of driving later, we made it.
Needless to say, I am thankful to not have to ride or drive or sleep in a van for a while. But I miss the experiences and people of this past week, especially those from the Rescue Mission. All of our kids had great experiences and many of them are already talking about our trip next summer. I have to say, you can't beat doing a mission trip through an organization that provides for all the details, feeds and houses your kids, sets up the mission work opportunities, and also helps the youth process what they've done and seen, all while doing it in such a way that makes our kids want to keep coming back and also invite their friends. But most of all it is amazing to see the changes in the young people after they experience a week of Christian service. I feel like I should copy one of those Mastercard commercials and talk about how much we spent on registration and van rentals and whatnot, but the overall result - the changes in the lives of our young people - is priceless.
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