messy toes

Friday night I helped lead a "girls night" for fourteen 2-7 graders in the basement of Gulkana Chapel. 

The vision

Bird nest snacks = Spring time?= New life?

This event was intended to be an evening of fun games, a time to hang out with friends and sisters, a time to celebrate spring (and being a new creation in Jesus),  & to think about Christ's love and servant heart as we bowed down to wash each other's feet.  

Saturday was "a Serve Day" to split into groups & to go out to help some of our elders in the community with whatever they needed-- dishes, dusting, organizing.  My hope was for young lives to be changed, that serving each other and serving others in the community would awaken these hearts to Jesus' crazy humble love, that they would be sobered by how Christ loved, and served us first. I was hoping to write a blog post about the fruition of this vision...

The reality

Spilled juice. Popcorn everywhere. Inattentive, distracted by ipods & ipads. Bullying. Uncooperative. Tattling. Running up and downstairs. Blatant disobedience and disrespect. Rudeness. Things broken. Rambunctious competition. Paint and water spilled. Deaf ears. Taking without asking. Stubborn disregard. Sloppy mess.

I have done and helped out with a lot of youth activities in my twenty-something years. From traditional vacation Bible school to youth group to sunday school, from Alaska to Uganda. I know very well that kids get crazy. This was no surprise to me. Way back when, I was the fourth grader who ran inside during recess with my tongue sticking out, taunting my teacher.  I get crazy too, that's why I love kids so very much.  But never before have I been so frustrated, so angry with their out-of-control-havoc.

My heart felt shattered. I desired to do something great on behalf of these kids. I wanted to help teach them Truth that would rock their lives and crash them into the arms of Jesus. And instead, I felt beaten down, the message and hope of the slumber party event shot down, rejected. I tried so hard. I had invested hours into preparation. Dollars into snacks. Emotion into hope and expectation. I sacrificed cherished time with my husband.

The foot washing part was messy and rowdy. Soap water splashed. Butcher block paper tore between sticky painted toes. Instead of waiting in line reflecting on what it means to serve as Jesus demonstrated (ideal dream), a paint war started in the corner. I'm not sure they understood.

And for the Serve Day? The challenging two hour event with a pizza and root beer float debrief? Mixed emotions. I only helped with three people, the rest split off with other leaders. I think some girls did really great. They pulled it together and lent a helping hand. Others complained. And when we were back at the church, the "let's serve now by cleaning up the church" was a flop -- instead, a chair was  broken and soda was splashed up against a wall.

I went home and cried for the next two days.

You can't make anyone love Jesus. 

This stinks when you love someone so much, when all you want is God's best for their lives.

And you can't know the effectiveness of ministry efforts. Ever. I'm convinced there is no way to quantify or measure the good that may or may not come from hours, years, lifetimes invested. 

And that stinks too. Because we want to know we aren't useless...

How the heck can you train up a child through sporadic events intended for great influence? How the heck do you open deaf, distracted ears?

What of God's heartbreak?  Didn't He, doesn't He grieve and rage and feel rejection? Don't we grown- up-people take His good and throw it all over the floor, stomp on it, spit on it? Don't we turn our face the other way, inattentively distracting ourselves from His face and His heart with all our crappy entertainment technology? Don't we criticize our neighbors, our fellow awkward humans who were miraculously fashioned in the image of the same God as we were? Don't we run away from what He calls us into, don't we hide under tables, don't we blatantly disobey? Don't we have childlike deaf ears, too noisy to hear God's voice even when He is shouting? Don't we sneak and take what isn't rightfully ours? Aren't we too often blind to how our actions, our words affect others? 

We make a sloppy mess of life. Every day. At least I know I do. 

Jesus gave everything for us silly straying, lost sheep. He got down on His hands and knees and humbly washed our dirty, crusty toes.  He had a vision and he carried it out...He let his lifeblood drain out for us. We are silly messy kids.  We don't understand. And He loves us still.

Jesus, thank you for loving me, still, despite my crusty toes and ignorance.

Help me to receive from you. Open my ears and my eyes. Help me to follow you.

Again and again despite the temptation to quit, help me to love others...unconditionally...with your measure of grace and patience.  To serve others when there is no reward, no gratitude, no seeming profit. Cuz you did.