Stump the Pastor

During Confirmation class we used to play this game called Stump the Pastor.  The object of the game was for a confirmand to ask the pastor a question he was incapable of answering.

Among other things, we learned that our pastors know their stuff!  We also learned they're good at being put on the spot.

During games of Stump the Pastor I don't remember ever seeing a pastor be truly stumped.  On a related question, of course.  No fair asking how many ridges are on the side of a quarter.

However, since that instance, I have seen two pastors stumped.

I thought it was a simple question.  Nothing about eschatology or an Old Testament prophet.  Nothing that requires an M. Div. or a D. Min.  It's a question I'm asked regularly and usually I come up with a suitable answer.  The same question has stumpt two different ministers.

The question, you ask?

How can I pray for you?

Pastors spend so much time being the prayer warriors and encouragers, that sometimes they don't know how to respond when asked how how others can pray for them.

Take a minute today and pray for your pastor, divinity school student, or spiritual leader.  Ask them how you can best pray for them.  Encourage them; tell them you appreciate them.  It's such a simple task that's all too often forgotten.

Friends, how can I pray for you?

<>< Katie

PS: Blogger killed this post, so I re-wrote it to the best of my ability... Sorry if it reads differently then it once did.

One Handed Mermaids

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?

Volunteers

Sunday morning Pastor Russ spoke about the "communion of saints" line in the Apostle's Creed.  (Baptist readers: please don't condemn me because I go to a creedal church...).  One of the things he mentioned was that Christian life is like breathing.  Going to church (physically) is breathing in.  Going out into the world and being the church is breathing out.  You need both.  You can't just breathe in and you can't just breathe out.  There needs to be a balance between the two.  I completely agree.

Later he said something else I'd never really thought about before.  He called parents volunteers.  He supported that idea by saying they've volunteered their time and gas money to get their children to and from activities.  They coordinate carpool, snacks, and game schedules... They're the volunteers that get the least amount of credit.  Sunday night I got to see that idea in action.

There's a group of middle school girls currently a part of our confirmation class.  As a class they sponsor me through an adopt a college kid ministry.  Basically this means they send me packages periodically, I send them cards, and I visit them when I'm in town.  I'm in town, so Sunday night I paid them a visit.

In case you've never spent time with eight 7th grade girls: they are crazy.  To top it off, this was their end of the year party, so we had a chocolate fountain in class.  BIG MESS, BIG MESS!

Yes, there was chocolate everywhere.  As we were cleaning it up, I asked the leader how she was going to go about cleaning it.  She explained she'd used the same fountain with her son's Sunday School class that morning, and she just let it sit in the sink all afternoon.  Here I was thinking about how I never wanted to clean a chocolate fountain and she did it twice... today.

After the girls left, she was telling me some of their stories.  Mind you, this is a middle class, primarily-white, suburban church.  Well, a lot of the students in her group came from single parent/ divorced homes.  Most of them weren't just a "it is what it is" situation but rather there was baggage.  A "Mom died six days after she was told she had two months to live" story.  A "Dad's got a girlfriend abroad and spends most of his time there but also has primary custody of the kids."  The ones that have two parents have heart-breaking stories, too.  "Her brother died in the military."  "Mom had the primary income, but then she lost her job, so they're living on Dad's part-time salary."

On the surface, these are average middle school girls who enjoy chocolate a bit too much, spend all summer in the swimming pool, and can't wait to go to camp.  When you look a little deeper, they've all got stories that will break your heart.

"I'm just trying to make a difference," the leader said.  She explained most of them are not in church other than confirmation class, so she struggles to find the balance between fun and teaching about God.  "This may be their only opportunity to hear His word; that's a big responsibility on me," she explained, maybe not orally, but I heard it.  "I've been trying so hard to reach this one girl, and I just can't seem to get through."

I told her I'd pray for her.  And I did.  All the way home.  Those girls' stories tug on my heart-strings, and that woman's obedience to God's call and willingness to do what's right.  She's an everyday, unsung hero.  She's the kind of woman I want to be when I grow up, even if it means I have to clean a chocolate fountain twice in one day.  As soon as I wrote that sentence, a little voice in my head said, "Why wait?"  Why wait to be obedient and willing to volunteer your time, energy, and gas?  So I ask you, why wait?

But this blog isn't about you and me.  It's about this the volunteering that often goes unnoticed.

Parents, thank you for volunteering your time and making a difference, not just in the lives of your youngsters but also in the lives of their friends.  With your kids, you can see your impact.  With their friends, it's hard to see the fruits of your labor, but they're ripening.  Somewhere.

<>< Katie