At school I'm a part of a ministry team that works with local churches to lead youth nights, retreats, lock-ins, et al. Our job is to basically be silly, bond with the youth, and teach them about Jesus. I like the ministry, but I always feel like there's an element missing. We work with the youth all weekend and then on Sunday night we go home. The might be-friend us on facebook or something but the relationship's pretty much over. That makes me sad.
Which is why I love going home. Even though I'm only there every few months, I get to spend time with middle and high schoolers. Sure, I have to go back to school eventually but I get to go back and forth between the two.
On Sunday, I spent the morning getting powered sugar all over the ancient, blue church pew with my middle schoolers. They're almost done with Confirmation class, looking towards high school, and have built a great friendship among them.
Their leader asked the best present they received for Christmas. One of them responded, "Jesus's forgiveness."
That was the end of that discussion question. She blew us out of the water! So powerful. So profound. So perfect. So simple.
When I got home from church, I looked at a national weather map and noticed this itty bitty snowstorm hitting half of our country... including Baptist Country. I wanted to just sit around and mope about how I probably wasn't getting back to school in the near future.
I'm so glad I didn't cancel my plans for Sunday night. Instead I went to what my church calls Home Group. Basically it's like small group where high schoolers get together in a family's house to hang out, learn about Jesus, and eat, eat, eat.
I wanted to get home and mope about my potentially cancelled flight. Instead I got lost in the most intense conversation ever. Or at least in the week.
Trevor (Who's been begging me all week to blog about this just so he can see his own name in print) asked the question: Why did God give us two of everything?
Two arms, two legs, two halves of the brain...
One stomach so we don't overindulge.
One tongue to control.
One appendix to have removed.
But two lungs, two kidneys, two eyes...
The best answer we could devise is that God likes symmetry.
Dawn, Jake, Trevor, and I continued our conversation to pondering if there are any warm-blooded animals that do not have four appendages. Mermaids.
Maybe it was a weird conversation. A "Peanut Butter Bagel" blog post. But still something to ponder.
I love being able to spend time with the same youth. I knew most of these guys from the Gathering in July. Wonder about weird things that have never crossed my mind before. Spend some time with youth and see what you come away wondering...
<>< Katie
PS: Happy now, Trevor?
Showing posts with label Drums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drums. Show all posts
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Monday, June 14, 2010
Trinity Sunday
"I have a favor to task of you," I said, looking up and backwards, searching to find Pastor Mike's face. As with most conversations we've had, PM had me in a headlock.
"You do?" he asked, spinning me around again. I was glad today's greeting didn't involve his binder pounding on my head. That's apparently reserved for the days when I already have a headache.
"Can I borrow your keys?"
"For?"
Dang it. Had I really hoped the senior pastor of a megachurch would willingly surrender his keys to some mischievous members?
"Pastor Russ's office." I quickly began to explain the situation in the briefest of terms. I also regretted not chasing down Pastor Jim (PT) instead. To PT, all I would have needed to say was, "It's Trinity Sunday" and the keys would have been mine.
"Well--" PM started. I knew what was coming: no. It's understandable. You can't have three girls unchaperoned in a pastor's office, even if it is Trinity Sunday.
"We won't touch anything," I added, holding my hands in the air. PM's face softened to a smile.
"I already saw the balloons," he said, reaching through his robe and into his pocket to pull out his keys. "And touch anything you'd like," he added with a laugh.
Yes! Pastor Mike has always liked me. Something to do with his being the father of four girls and my being the oldest of three. Either that or the fact that we were pranking Pastor Russ.
Drums and I tried not to run as we headed down the office hallway and back to our heap of balloons outside PR's office door. The hard work had been done. The Athanasian Creed had been cut apart line by line. Each line had been shoved into a balloon. The balloons had been blown up and the key obtained. Now the fun stuff: the decorating.
We didn't have enough hot air, I mean, balloons to fill the office. Unfortunate! Instead we filled every nook and cranny we could fine. A few under his desk, another behind the guitar, some on the bookshelf, one in the Easter basket, one next to the Jesus doll... more or less, everywhere. We even taped one to his desk that read "Trinity Sunday" and one to his door that read "Athanasian Creed." Now everyone that walks by will be curious as to why PR's office door became a bulletin board... today.
You see, this is a four-year tradition. The first year Melissa and I were caught red-handed. We had the Creed in a plethora of different languages taped to his door. He thought it was hate mail from the "Sex Sermon" he'd done on the 6th Commandment the week before. We learned PT felt left out so the following year we used 12-inch white letters to write "Athanasian" down PR's door and "Creed" up PT's. I was in Costa Rica for the third year, but Dawn and Melissa decorated the door with the Creed... on Post-It notes.
A few weeks ago, Trinity Sunday talk began on facebook.
Melissa: This week is Pentecost. You know what that means next week is?
Pastor Russ: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo... just kidding.
Katie: Pastor Russ is just kidding. He likes Trinity Sunday.
PR: I like Trinity Sunday. I just don't like "Let's celebrate Trinity Sunday on Pastor Russ's office door."
Katie: We could celebrate Trinity Sunday in Pastor Russ's office, if that would be better.
Dawn: OOOHH! I want in!
Somewhere in here a secret leaked that PR would be out of town this weekend. We started an email conversation.
Katie: Let me get this straight, you're fleeing on Trinity Sunday, leaving your office open for whatever cockamamie scheme we develop?
PR: My office may be boobie trapped. Enter at you own risk.
Katie: For the Trinity, we're willing to risk it.
And we did. PR congratulated us on another clever and successful Trinity Sunday. (Even though he'd popped half of the balloons before discovering the Creed was inside of them). Rumor has it PT felt left out again. We'll have to fix that next year. Any ideas?
<>< Katie
PS: Happy birthday, Drums!
"You do?" he asked, spinning me around again. I was glad today's greeting didn't involve his binder pounding on my head. That's apparently reserved for the days when I already have a headache.
"Can I borrow your keys?"
"For?"
Dang it. Had I really hoped the senior pastor of a megachurch would willingly surrender his keys to some mischievous members?
"Pastor Russ's office." I quickly began to explain the situation in the briefest of terms. I also regretted not chasing down Pastor Jim (PT) instead. To PT, all I would have needed to say was, "It's Trinity Sunday" and the keys would have been mine.
"Well--" PM started. I knew what was coming: no. It's understandable. You can't have three girls unchaperoned in a pastor's office, even if it is Trinity Sunday.
"We won't touch anything," I added, holding my hands in the air. PM's face softened to a smile.
"I already saw the balloons," he said, reaching through his robe and into his pocket to pull out his keys. "And touch anything you'd like," he added with a laugh.
Yes! Pastor Mike has always liked me. Something to do with his being the father of four girls and my being the oldest of three. Either that or the fact that we were pranking Pastor Russ.
Drums and I tried not to run as we headed down the office hallway and back to our heap of balloons outside PR's office door. The hard work had been done. The Athanasian Creed had been cut apart line by line. Each line had been shoved into a balloon. The balloons had been blown up and the key obtained. Now the fun stuff: the decorating.
We didn't have enough hot air, I mean, balloons to fill the office. Unfortunate! Instead we filled every nook and cranny we could fine. A few under his desk, another behind the guitar, some on the bookshelf, one in the Easter basket, one next to the Jesus doll... more or less, everywhere. We even taped one to his desk that read "Trinity Sunday" and one to his door that read "Athanasian Creed." Now everyone that walks by will be curious as to why PR's office door became a bulletin board... today.
You see, this is a four-year tradition. The first year Melissa and I were caught red-handed. We had the Creed in a plethora of different languages taped to his door. He thought it was hate mail from the "Sex Sermon" he'd done on the 6th Commandment the week before. We learned PT felt left out so the following year we used 12-inch white letters to write "Athanasian" down PR's door and "Creed" up PT's. I was in Costa Rica for the third year, but Dawn and Melissa decorated the door with the Creed... on Post-It notes.
A few weeks ago, Trinity Sunday talk began on facebook.
Melissa: This week is Pentecost. You know what that means next week is?
Pastor Russ: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo... just kidding.
Katie: Pastor Russ is just kidding. He likes Trinity Sunday.
PR: I like Trinity Sunday. I just don't like "Let's celebrate Trinity Sunday on Pastor Russ's office door."
Katie: We could celebrate Trinity Sunday in Pastor Russ's office, if that would be better.
Dawn: OOOHH! I want in!
Somewhere in here a secret leaked that PR would be out of town this weekend. We started an email conversation.
Katie: Let me get this straight, you're fleeing on Trinity Sunday, leaving your office open for whatever cockamamie scheme we develop?
PR: My office may be boobie trapped. Enter at you own risk.
Katie: For the Trinity, we're willing to risk it.
And we did. PR congratulated us on another clever and successful Trinity Sunday. (Even though he'd popped half of the balloons before discovering the Creed was inside of them). Rumor has it PT felt left out again. We'll have to fix that next year. Any ideas?
<>< Katie
PS: Happy birthday, Drums!
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