Trying to go the extra mile-possible new adventures in loving our neighbor

The law of Jesus' day said that if a Roman soldier asked you to carry his stuff, you had to drop what you were doing,and carry his stuff for a mile. He was one of your oppressors, he was a stranger, and yet you had to leave your life and help his. Jesus said that you weren't just supposed to carry it one mile. He told the people they had to carry the pack two miles. You are supposed to go out of your way, way out of your way to help others, friends, neighbors, strangers, enemies if you follow Jesus. The Bible also talks about the gifts, talents and abilities we have been given, and using those all to the glory of God, working not just for man, but for God himself. We have a responsibility to serve and to sacrifice.

Sometimes when I look at all the blessings around me, I wonder, am I sacrificing enough, am I doing enough? I don't mean so that Jesus will love me, his love for me is not limited to what I can do for him. I just think of the things that have come so easily to me, the blessing I have. Many came with work, but a work that was ultimately very fulfilling, very satisfying. Have I challenged myself enough? Is there more I can give.

Have I squandered my blessings? Is there a way I can atone for those things too? I mishandled God's gifts, I got into debt, I took things for granted. God's forgiveness provides atonement, I'm not worried about being shut out of heaven, but can I make up for those things somehow, ease my conscience appease my own guilt? Climb out of the holes I have created and find freedom to move on, and leave them behind?

All these things swim around my head, as I ponder another great adventure. Something on someone else's bucket list, that maybe I can be a part of. I have finished my list, can I help others complete theirs? What do I have to give?

There is something simple I can give, although it's complex, it's challenging, it's full of sacrifice, and stretching myself, but I was made for such work. I could give a family a gift of a baby. Now hang on, stay with me, it's not my baby, nor is it Valentine's.  It has no genetic link to us or our children. I could be a gestational surrogate. I could carry someone else's baby from embryo to birth.

I know it sounds nuts. I know there are risks. There are things I worry about. Vain things like what will become of my middle aged body. There are family things like what will this mean for my kids, my husband. How tired and grumpy will I be? How awkward will it be for them to answer questions about the baby? We always have something happening, something going on, isn't our life busy enough? There are so many reasons not to do this.

But there are so many reasons to do this. This couple who we don't even know yet, who we have yet to choose and be chosen by, they can't have a child of their own, they are at the end of their rope, they have a string of failures. I have two shining successes. I have two easy birth stories. We are talking scheduled inductions, very short labors, laughing in the delivery room type births. I have this body that handled pregnancy and birth well. I have the most supportive family and friends. I am able, I am willing. I can be trusted. Parents entrust their kids to me all the time and I take that very seriously. I have a drug free body, and except for maybe twice a year, alcohol free too. I eat well. On paper, I am a perfect candidate for a family in need of a womb. Mentally I am blessed with experience to handle this. I know what it's like to bond and have to let go. I care very deeply for my students I share life with them, and then they grow up and move on, and we have limited contact. I understand that bond and distance, the struggles and the joys of that life. I am well prepared. My family is well prepared as they have bonded and loved those students too. My kids understand a broader meaning of family, and they know what it means to love and cherish those that are far away. We have so much we can give, by sharing our lives with a family for a year, as I share my body.

It's also not without rewards. While it comes down to $3 and hour in compensation for pain and suffering, it still is something. It's something to help atone for those mistakes. To help free us to give more, to allow our kids to kick some things off of their bucket lists. We also get to enjoy being a part of someone else's' story, giving them a family. Making their dreams come true. There is much that we will gain. Maybe it's not such a sacrifice after all. Well, no, I remember the sleepless nights, the painful muscles, the vomiting, the fatigue.

So we are pondering, we are interviewing, we are testing. We are leaning into the possibility and the opportunity. Who knows what will come of it. Maybe nothing. Perhaps the doctors will discover my body cannot do this anymore. Maybe we won't find a family we clique with. Maybe the pregnancy attempts won't take. God can shut the door so easily in so many ways. We are working with an agency. We are in process, though nothing medically would happen until at least August. We haven't started the matching process either.

If it doesn't work out, maybe there is another mile for me to walk, a different sacrifice of praise, thanksgiving and atonement I can walk. Something else to challenge myself with, something else to give and make others dreams come true, some other way to love my neighbors more fully.

We don't share this to ask for permission, or to say look at us, look at what we can do. We share because we value our community of friends, the broad group of people that have been such a wonderful part of our lives. We value your ideas, experiences and opinions. We know that your support has been vital to our family. We have been testing the waters a bit, sharing this idea with people here and there, but as we are getting further in the process, we wanted to inform more people. So as we step foot on this path and check it out, we ask for your prayers. If you have any worries, fears, doubts, negativity, you can talk to me about it, but talk now before we have traveled far enough down the road that we can't turn back. Before I potentially get knocked up ;) And if nothing else, let this be a reminder not to take your blessings for granted, and to use whatever gifts and abilities you have to be a blessing to others.

moving past Saturday to empty eggs and resurrection life

It's always the Saturday part of the Easter story that fascinates me. Good Friday always creeped me out growing up, as it was full of dark tales of Jesus's death, and warbling voices of old men singing trembling songs. Easter while victorious was always a blur of busy activity, and exhausting work, especially as I transitioned into children's ministry, and it became a blur of crafts, candy, and trying to explain the most marvelous but scary story ever. Tony Campolo made, "It's Friday but Sunday's coming" so famous, but what about Saturday? Saturday always haunted me in a different way. Saturday seemed liked the longest, hardest, most hopeless day, and that Saturday seems to have enveloped me as of late, taken over my take on the world. I know Sunday is coming, but I just can't get through Saturday.

What must it have been like for those disciples, for those friends of Jesus on Saturday. After a very long, emotional week, their friend, mentor, lord, died a horrible death. They themselves were on the run from impending doom and persecution. Things had gone from bad to so, so much worse. They knew God's promises, but they were seeing such awfulness. Their fears were coming true. It was one bad thing after another. They weren't sitting around waiting for Jesus to come back. They were waiting, to be killed, they were hiding from persecution. They couldn't see the hope in Jesus's promises, all they could see was anxiety, the fear, the waiting for the next bad thing to happen. 

That's where I have been. I have been stuck in Saturday for a while now. Let me say, that things haven't been catastrophic, the catastrophe has happened though, in the lives of others, and that too has made my heart heavy, unbearably heavy with worry, fear and doubt. In my own life it has been smaller things, things that come in the midst of great blessing of family and friends but things which when added to the pain of those around me, and the incredible, awful things happening in the world, have me fixed in those holy Saturdays, trapped in fear and worry. One small thing would pass, get repaired, be better, and another would pop up. For the last three years it has gone that way. There have been breaks, amazing rays of sunshine in the midst of the storm, but the storm clouds always seem to be on the horizon. I think what finally sealed the deal was when my own body failed me, and it's all been down hill from there. In the past, Valentine was the one with health issues, the kids got sick, but my body for the most part stayed strong, kept the family going, could work long into the night. Then a couple pebbles in my kidney forced me into two surgeries and two months of procedures and pain. I know, in the face of cancer, altheizmers, etc, what I went through wasn't a big deal, but it was a big dose of reality. My body couldn't keep things going. Then my house couldn't keep us safe, no amount of money could come to take care of everything, every debt, every bill, because there was always another around the corner, another water leak, another big repair. And Valentine, just seemed to have one big struggle with anxiety and depression after another. I realize how ridiculously first world all of my problems are. My kidneys failed me because I didn't drink the abundance of clean water, literally bursting in my house. My house was built by careless workers, but I have a house. My husband struggles with illness, but I have a husband that loves me, and access to medical care. The privilege I have is not taken for granted, but things just kept coming, and that was after two years of other bad things. the anxiety of it all became a constant, the fear ingrained in everything. What was going to happen next, how bad would it be?

And I just kept expecting them. I could almost predict the next one. It was as if a fear would materialize in my head and then manifest itself in the world. I did manage to enjoy some of the good around me. I could see the beauty in the trees as the seasons changed, see the smiles on my kids faces, take pride in the people they were becoming. I couldn't, however, expect those things. I couldn't anticipate them. I quit looking for the good, expecting the awesome. Instead I anticipated the next disaster. In my job it's hard to live in the now, there is always another big event, big project that has to be worked on, now. I have to get in front of the next month, and so I started trying to get in front of the next disaster. I worried my way into plans and anticipation, and worst case scenarios. 

The disciples story didn't end on Saturday though, and neither does mine. Easter has come, Jesus has risen. He conquered the worst for all of us. He gave his life, and because he was more than just a man, he blew through death. He is alive. We can hope, we can anticipate the good. Good will come, it already has.

Yesterday I had the responsibility of the children's lesson in the worship service. In the midst of the flowers and the songs of "He Is Risen", I backed it up a little. With three extra large nesting plastic Easter eggs, I reminded them that the egg has to be broken to get to the good inside. We opened the first egg, and inside was a cross, we remembered the scary death. In the next egg, there were tissues, we remembered the sadness of Jesus friends on Saturday. We talked about how life is lonely and scary and sad sometimes. Then we opened the last egg, and it was empty, like Jesus' tomb. It was empty, but now it could be filled with candy and good things. There was brokenness, there was sadness, but then there was life, and happiness.  Life is scary, and sad and lonely, but it's also beautiful and good, and full of wonder. 

I want to hold up my empty egg and wait expectantly with anticipation for good things. I want to be filled with the excitement and wonder of a kid waiting for an Easter basket. I want to start living like that again. I want to live in eager anticipation of the amazing things God will do, and not live waiting for more things to break, more to go bad. I'm not stupid, or deceived by some prosperity gospel message. I know bad things will still happen, but I am going to quit anticipating them. It doesn't help. Jesus said what difference does worrying about tomorrow make. So I am going to try, so hard to look forward, to look and hope and anticipate the best. Because that, that could help. I'm going to dream, and wonder. I am going to revel in the miracles around me everyday, and wait for more, or at least I'm going to try.

We sang all weekend about the chains being gone, death being conquered, hope and freedom being restored. I want to live on Sunday, I want to live in a resurrected life, out of the ashes of anxiety and into the hope and joy of love, life and grace. What chains do you need to throw off? What fears need to die to hope in your life? Will you join me in this resurrection life? 

All I can say is I'm sorry

I am sorry, so very, very sorry, for my part in Christian Fundamentalism, in the new Evangelical brand. I am sorry for the part I have played in people turning away from Jesus, leaving their faith, or refusing to even investigate Christianity, because of things they hear in the news and on social media. I am sorry we have represented Jesus so badly in the world, I am sorry we are reacting in fear, instead of showing love. While I may not be the picture of fundamentalism, conservatism or the religious right, that is part of my history, and for that I apologize. I am sorry that we have abandoned the true religion that is described in James 1:26-27 If you claim to be religious but don’t control your tongue, you are fooling yourself, and your religion is worthless. 27Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.(NLT). I am sorry that we are trying to draw a moral line in the sand, instead of following Jesus greatest commands to love God and love others. I am sorry. 

I heard a Ugandan pastor on NPR today during BBC's the World and it made me weep for my part in what is happening in Uganda right now. While it was small, it is a part of the Evangelical movement in Uganda, and I worked with and befriended that same pastor. We went into public schools on state broadcasted television and across the country sharing the Good News of Christ. I do mean the Good News. At the time, that is what we were speaking. We were telling students, that they were loved by a gracious God, that they were freed from their sins by Jesus, that he was there for them. We also talked to them about abstinence and tried to encourage them to abstain from sex, as AIDS was a huge issue facing that country. I prayed with hundreds of teens to accept Christ. I saw what true religious persecution looked like, as some of those kids knew they would not be able to go home if they followed Jesus. Their family would reject them, they faced threat of physical harm, but they were willing to endure that for the love of Christ. It was an amazing and powerful time, and I had no idea that one of the pastors I was working with, and some of the youth I was speaking to, would be the leaders of the evangelical movement in Uganda, that pushed for the new anti gay laws there. I swear I had no idea. I didn't know that one day I would be watching that pastor on Tosh.0 describing gay sex acts in detail to prove how corrupt he thinks homosexuals are. I had no idea I would hear him on the radio celebrating laws that persecute people because of how they identify their sexuality. I am sorry, I am sorry I supported his beginnings and Uganda's beginnings as an evangelical nation, if this is what it has turned into. I wanted to see God's grace touch the people there. I wanted to see them value and love each other as God does. I wanted them to protect their women and children better, to care for one another, to find peace and joy, and healing after decades of war and destruction.

I had no idea, that people who were actually persecuted for their beliefs would come into power, and use that power to persecute others for who they are, I know that is naive. They were once divided from their families, and now they are asking families to turn in their gay children, friends and neighbors, or face prosecution themselves. I don't understand where the grace that we talked about, that we prayed they would receive went. I am sorry I didn't communicate the scope and importance of Jesus love for ALL people.

I am sorry for the things I have done here in my own country as well in the name of Jesus, that had nothing to do with Jesus focus on changing people's lives with grace and mercy. I am sorry that my people swiftly canceled their sponsorships of the world's neediest children because World Vision, temporarily decided to use fair and equitable hiring practices. I am sorry that instead of working hard to help people in need, we are working hard to make our voices heard. I am sorry that we are reacting defensively and feel as if we are persecuted and abused. I am sorry that we aren't trusting that God is working in the midst of us. Jesus said that the persecuted are blessed, that they should react by turning the other cheek, and with gentle words and love, yet we are choosing to react at our supposed persecution with anger, hate and malice. I am sorry.

 I want so badly to walk away from it all, but I can't. I can't. The church is my home, these are my roots, I am called to serve in the context of these people, my people. As ugly as we may seem, there is great beauty in our midst I swear, just as there is vast, amazing beauty in the people and land of Uganda. There is beauty in the people of the church caring and supporting one another through the worst of times, gathering around people who are hurting. There is beauty in the healing that happens when people pray for, reach out to, and work to bring help to those in need. There is beauty in teaching kids to look outside of themselves and put serving others first. There is beauty in reminding people that they are created by a loving God, and have value and purpose. There is beauty in proclaiming and practicing forgiveness. There is beauty in faith, in finding peace in the chaos and an anchor of hope in the storms of life. There is even beauty in correction and being challenged to live differently, to live better. There is so much beauty in a bunch of damaged and broken people struggling to work together to bring hope and healing to a damaged world. 

So I will do my best to make up for my part in the mess of Evangelicalism. I will try to love more, and better. I will try to be slow to speak and quick to listen, to put love first. I will as Rachel Held Evan said, "stop raging war and start washing feet".

remembering what it means to "grow old with you"

Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore were on the Tonight Show, and they sang a very sweet song about their longtime movie romance. This took me back, as Wedding Singer was my first date with Valentine, and the song Sandler sings at the end, was part of his proposal to me. Fifteen years ago, we were newly engaged, with only a few months to go before we would be married. I was living in California, trying to plan a wedding (thanks mom for making that easy), get through junior year of college, and run a youth ministry, he was living on a tour bus on a national arena tour with a huge Christian band. We didn't have texts, FaceTime, or Facebook, we had emails, phone booths and calling cards. We were hardly able to spend time together, but when we could, you couldn't keep us apart. Friends joked that we always had to be touching, that they never saw us separate, and today our daughter rolls her eyes, and complains loudly about the same thing. We had no idea what life would bring, we just knew we wanted to live it together. 

There has been an awesome response to Val's amazing blog post about his struggle with mental illness,  and we have both been encouraged by people's support. Here is Val's blog link.  I have heard that we are inspiring, and amazing, and how do we do it. Well, we just do, it's part of life, not one that we expected, but it is. The truth is, I had no idea that part of that part of that life together included mental illness. I was no stranger to it, or the threat of suicide. I had a great aunt who we visited in the hospital after she tried suicide, and instead got a coma, I have a sister who tried when I was in elementary school, and a grandma whose mental illness was clear to me from a young age. My dad was a pastor, and as such walked through mental illness and suicide with families on a regular basis, and I had a front row seat. It was part of life, it was hard, but to me it was as normal and common as any other disease. I don't think there is just one, or a specific "other half" for anyone, but as I think of my history with mental illness, it seems more than coincidental that God or Josh,  had us meet in the bathroom line at that show (thanks Josh!). I didn't know though, and I am not sure he knew, the extent of the struggle he would have to live with. 

He was funny, he was fun, he was so creative. He wasn't arrogant, he didn't look down on my passion for reaching out to youth. In fact he took the time to hang out with kids at his shows, he kept in touch with them when they wrote to him, he made them feel valued and worthy of his time, so much so, that he got in trouble with other bands. He didn't just make me a mix tape of songs for me, he made me a tape of songs he wrote about me. Seriously ladies, and gents, who could resist that? He had dinner with my parents, while I was in Africa, after we had just started dating. He brought presents to my niece who lived with us. He would hang out with me even though I was surrounded by guy friends, my adopted brothers, and he didn't seem to feel the need to compete for my attention. He accepted me and loved me but was to shy to say it for a long time, and he was patient when I was too scared and hurt from previous relationships to give those words away again. Life was an adventure with him, a silly, quirky adventure, and the only road block was the distance of his life on the road.  

I didn't see the mental illness then, but sometimes now, that is all I can see. I forget the funny presents and notes, the need to constantly be holding his hand. Now sometimes I just see the need to help him, to prop him up, to make sure that he is safe. I forget the adventure and get bogged down in the anxiety of what might be around the corner. I have trouble trusting his decision making, when it seems like I can't trust him with his own life. I let the disease define him. I allow the symptoms suffocate the breathe or romance and adventure right out of me. 

But then that wittiness, that creativity, that spark push their way through and I see that guy again. I see the one who brought joy to audiences everywhere, and who now channels that in to bringing joy to our home. That guy pushes through, doesn't let his disease define him and makes a tortilla talk at chipotle. He does the hard work of therapy and meds, and while he may be extra grumpy sometimes, he is in no way abusive, or menacing, even when his brain convinces him, the world is crashing in on him. I hear the silly songs about our kids, and see the dance moves, that also make our tween groan. I see a guy that is hotter and more handsome than he is in our wedding pictures. I see him love the kids in our lives, and pour himself out into the new circle of adopted little brothers I have and I remember. I remember he is so much more. 

He is more than the tears and sobs over his brokenness, he is the guy that cries when he sees something sweet. He is more than the clinging hug for strength, he is the guy that lifts and snuggles the 150lb dog. He is the runner of hundreds of miles, the worker that everyone prizes, the dad that plays legos for hours. He is nothing short of amazing. 

And really marriage isn't about those first feelings in the beginning, all the things he did that made me feel special. It's about doing life together, like we wanted, each supporting the other. I am supposed to be there for him. My being there for him, it's not amazing or extraordinary, it's what I committed to, in sickness and in health. And he committed to the hard parts of me, my crazy ideas, my endless insecurities, the way i shut down when someone gets mad at me, my messiness, my love of bad TV and big dogs, my job that often becomes his, my own special blend of crazy. We are doing life together, and this is part of our life, but it doesn't define our relationship. It is hard to live with each other sometimes, but this is what we chose. Our love, our commitment to each other, our willingness to do life together, that defines our marriage. 

We changed the traditional vows a bit, and added that we would treasure one another. I think I have forgotten some of that. I have been so busy worrying about him that I haven't been treasuring him as much as I should. I haven't been appreciating the fantastic father, super freaking hot man, great provider, and basically fun guy that he is. You know those Facebook timeline videos, that show all your  most popular posts, mine was all Valentine. He really is one of the best parts of me. He makes me laugh everyday, even on the dark days. So, in those immortal words of Sandler, Valentine, "I want to grow old with you"and treasure many, many more days of you. And in case you need a reminder here is The Wedding Singer, I want to Grow old with you clip

losing sight of heaven? trade fluorescents for fireflies

I'm having a hard time seeing heaven, are you? The world is dark and grimy lately with disease and war, and just yuck, but normally, I can see past that. Usually, I can see God.  Sure I can see him in nature, in the mountains, in the ocean, in my dogs, but normally I can see him other ways too. I can see him in his word, but even that is dim. It's dim because it doesn't seem to be taking flesh and becoming real through those of us that follow it. It's not shining light and life. It almost seems to be adding to the darkness. I can't see the kingdom of heaven of love and mercy shining through the darkness in this world, quite like I used to, and the light that is shining, is so harsh, so bright, but not in a good way. and forgive me as I muddle through metaphor, as we all appreciate different forms of light. But to me this is a harsh fluorescent light, that gives me a headache when I live under it for too long. My eyes start twitching as they struggle to make out the words on the page under the harsh glare, my photos come back with putrid greens and yellows and muddied clarity from this light. And when that light breaks it leeches toxins into the air. I want the light, but I want something gentler, something that draws me in instead of pushing me away.

We, who claim to follow Christ, we who read his word, we are to be bearers of a light filled with grace and love. We are to reflect the mercy we find in the pages of Jesus life. It's easy when we look at his word to get caught up in the harshness of the law, and the judgement. We can pick up the BIble and walk away haunted by images of that seemingly horrible, harsh God that ruins us in floods, thrashes us with plagues and spills the blood of innocent babes. It's so easy to forget in the face of those things, the tender moments of a loving father and friend. We forget that he protected the Israelites, making sure that even their clothes and shoes didn't wear out. We forget that he made Jonah live in the belly of a whale, because he refused to go to the sinning Ninevahites and tell them, that even they could be saved. We stop before we get to the climax, to the best part of the story, we forget JEsus. He came not in a warring chariot, but swaddling clothes. He didn't shout judgment at sinners, but at those who thought they could judge. He dined with the dirty, he touched the unclean. He loved first, and challenged later. He showed us that perfect love doesn't inspire, but casts out fear. It doesn't try and protect it's life, but lays it's life down.

Yet here we are. We are shouting and shining this fake light. We are yelling about protecting our way of life, and we are forgetting about his. We fearfully shine our light on others and each other, pointing fingers and claiming to be showing the truth, but forgetting it ourselves. We shout judgements and laws and ideas, that have nothing to do with that most important commands, and the one you followed it with. We aren't helping others to see through the darkness or drawing them to the one true light, Instead in fear, we are just trying to blast it all with our own made up crap. We aren't reflections we are noisy, buzzing, irritating, flashing fluorescent bulbs of toxic chemicals.  When we fail, when we break, we leave not a trail of grace, but a harsh lingering poison.

I want to see heaven again! I want to see the light, the one that inspires love, and not fear. The light that draws you closer, that's magical and natural, that flows from the creator. I want to see fireflies. Is there any light more magical than lightening bugs? They flicker and fly through the sky and draw you in. You can;t help but want to catch them, to capture them, to have some light for yourself. They are so pure, so brilliant you just want to stare at them forever. They make the darkness bearable, you aren't so afraid of it anymore. And when you see hundreds of them together, you forget there was ever darkness at all. You wonder how this magic happened, you question it's creation, you want to know more.

my only source of firefly light west of the rockies is ironically fake

When you smash a firefly, it still glows. When you are a little kid and your regard for the life on insects is more about exploration than preservation, you find out you can rub the glow on you, and you glow too. When this world finally smashes me, through disease, or accident, or whatever, I don't want to leave a trail of toxin, I want to leave a glow.

God change me from a fluorescent light to a firefly. Stop me from pointing fingers, from shouting laws, and point me toward you. Let me reflect your love and your grace when I shine my light, so that my life, my story are a beautiful, magical reflection of you who created me, who loves me. Help me bring heaven to earth with my own little glow.

Fireflies at Ochanomizu, Artist: Kobyashi Kiyochika
 Los Angeles County Museum of Art
retrieved from www.lacma.org, 2/15/14

from silly games to suicide in 120 minutes

 Before we go any further, I think I should give you some context. A big part of my week, is this thing called youth group. Whatever your knowledge of youth group is, here is what ours is normally like. Students come in to our building, we as leaders are there to greet them and hang out with them, or they can go downstairs and play in the gym for a while. Then once most people have arrived we all head downstairs for some ridiculous games, last nights for instance was something we invented on the spot called sharknado tag, the night before it was fishing gummy worms out of whip cream with your face. Participation isn't mandatory, and some leaders and students hang out by the food and talk instead. Then we come upstairs, we play more games, or watch a video, or do some kind of art project that segways into the evenings storytelling/discussion/Bible Study. Sometimes we get so caught up in silly games and conversations we never get to that other part. That's ok with us though, because youth group is all about creating space, time and most importantly relationships with the students so that they can be loved, hear that God loves them whether through our actions or words, and be challenged by that love and God's word to love other people. We welcome conversation and debate.We welcome all kids, and many of our students don't share the faith of the leaders or our church, and that is fine with us. We have amazing adults who volunteer their time to hang out with our students, and play ridiculous games or stay up till all hours of the night with them on over nighters.  We are very intentional, but also pretty casual, we want kids to feel free to be themselves while they are there. Often there is a lot of laughter, and silliness that happens, too cool for school teens will act like the kids that they still are. Choreographed dance numbers spontaneously happen, dart wars break out, shaving cream ends up all over the building. Our methods aren't perfect, and there are better ways to do this, but this is what we do. It's a mess, but it is a beautiful amazing mess we call youth group.

Youth Group is often lighthearted and encouraging and fun, but sometimes it goes from things like Sharknado tag to suicide very quickly. I work with a great bunch of students who have created a very welcoming environment for their peers, where they can be vulnerable. Some of that is on us as leaders to be the example, to start it, but it's really them taking it and accepting others into "the family" that makes it work. I also work with very brave students, who are willing to open up and say what other are thinking but can't speak. Recently, suicide was not the intended topic, but it came up in the context of it being a choice, possibly even logical option to cope with life changing mistakes and tragedies. Did I mention I have some very brave, thoughtful students?

I know this way of thinking is a reality, you can read some of my blog posts on depression for more about that, but it breaks my heart to know that our kids feel that suicide is an option, that taking one's own life is better in some cases than living it. It is devastating to think that anyone could be so filled with despair, feeling like they might not ever be able to be forgiven for something, or that their value would be lost. That is a lie. A terrible horrible lie. I know the God that says, it's not what we do that matters, it's who we are, and we are his beloved. We are invited to be his friend, and that friendship cannot be broken. The bible book of Romans tells us that there is no condemnation when we put our faith in him, and it also tells us that NOTHING can separate us from his love, nothing. It even tells us that no matter how hard things are and what we are going through, God has our back, and there is hope. I have seen this grace, this love change people's lives. It's not a miracle cure, it's a process of getting to know who God is and how he sees you and coming back to that over and over again. It's hard but it's the best kind of hard. It's life giving, life changing and every kids needs to understand that, whether they understand it as coming from God himself, or they can just see it in the adults in their lives. They so badly need to be reminded that they aren't alone, they will never be alone and they always, always have a place, a people to turn to for help, hope and acceptance.

This is why we play silly games, and spend time hanging out with kids, we don't ever want them to forget that. We want to be extensions of that love. We want to put skin on that hard to understand concept of grace.

So whether you believe in the God that I speak of or not, do me a favor. Love the kids around you, reach out to the ones you don't parent too, let them know you are there for them, that you will help them face their parents, their life challenges, whatever it is they are dealing with. Help them find their "youth group" their safe place.

side note: To all the students over all the years, thank you. Thank you for allowing me to be there with you, as you grew and struggled with life, thanks for inviting me in, for trusting me. Thanks for teaching me about God's love and grace too. To all the volunteers, you guys are heroes in every sense of the word, thanks for coming on this journey, for being there for our kids. To the parents, thanks for allowing us to be part of your team, thanks for letting them go on so many adventures with us.

Why Disney,Riordan and Roth got it right,even if you think it's wrong

Rick Riordan, Veronica Roth and the producers of Disney Channel's Good Luck Charlie have taken bold steps recently into controversial territory, and I think they should be applauded. All of them have written gay characters into their stories, and they have done so with dignity. In House of Hades of the Heroes of Olympus Series a character painfully, struggles to come out to some but not all of his friends, as he fears rejection. In Allegiant by Veronica Roth, another character is casually outed and talks briefly about how he has to keep it hidden because of society's wish to keep things pure. In Good Luck Charlie, Charlie has a friend with two mommies. In none of these stories was homosexuality a huge issue or agenda, instead it was part of life. It was a friend of a main character struggling, or just living their lives as a gay person. In the Riordan series also published by Disney, it took two series and 12 books for this issue to even be identified.I am grateful that these people have chosen to write characters into their stories that all kids can identify with, despite all the boycotters they may face. I am grateful that there is a place in kids' pop culture where kids that struggle with these things can see themselves, and where other kids can see them, and I don't think that compromises my faith, my Biblical Interpretation or the moral fabric of my family.

No matter how you feel about homosexuality, it is real, it is present, and it is all around you. People are struggling with their sexual identity and trying to live comfortably in their own skin.  Who they are attracted to, or what they do in the privacy of their bedroom, should not define them, lessen who they are as people, or the issues they struggle with. Having gay characters in children's literature and TV does not corrupt our society, it doesn't support their bedroom habits, or break down society. It creates empathy, it recognizes the pain of human existence, it sees past the superficial, and brings dignity to the person, and that helps society. That fosters good will toward your fellow man. That builds strong families.

My eight year old sings Macklemore's "Same Love". He could probably sing you every word, but if  you asked him what the "she keeps me warm part is about", he would probably say it's about how her mom loves her. He doesn't get it. He has also watched entire seasons of Modern Family, but just the other day asked if two guys could get married. These things haven't negatively infected his moral being, they haven't made him any less attracted to girls, especially blondes and redheads. It's given us the opportunity for more conversations, and him the opportunity to learn about people. It helping prepare him to be a good friend to others no matter who they are attracted to. It's caused me to show him things that Jesus said about how we treat others.  No"negative" agenda behind that song or that show, has wormed it's way into his head, instead a little bit of understanding has, and hopefully compassion. He will read the Bible on his own someday, and make his own conclusions about the world around him, and these things will be just one part of the decisions he comes to. 

When I read about Jesus, it's his love, his compassion, his refusal to let the sins of people stand in the way of his love for them that I see. It's that I want to impart to my kids. So I am thankful for great writers, and mediocre Disney Channel productions for creating an environment that accepts people, and helps kids identify with their own lives and the lives of their friends. I am grateful for their honesty. If you aren't at least you can be grateful for another opportunity to talk to your kids about what you believe, to crack open the Bible and look at Jesus together,because those things just might make your family stronger, and they will have a bigger impact on your kid than any book or TV show ever could.