Ruth to Boaz: "Call me, maybe?"

Dear Miss Carly Rae Jepsen:

Thank you for recording Call Me Maybe.

It's catchy, and I like it.

And I have a question about it. Were the lyrics inspired by the biblical book of Ruth?

You may not be aware of this, but you've done a masterful job putting the words and actions of Ruth, as recorded in chapter 3 verses 7-9, in modern language. Read it for yourself if you like. Every time I do, I hear Ruth saying: "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me, maybe?"

so, thanks for that.

Writing

I never expected that as a youth pastor I'd do so much writing. Here's a list of some things I write regularly:

- sermons
- devotionals
- Bible studies
- to do lists
- correspondence
- youth talks
- board reports
- committee agendas
- annual reports
- budgets
- event descriptions
- advertisements
- directions
- permission forms

and just last week, I even wrote what someone was going to say on the phone to someone else. That may sound a bit odd, but given the situation made a lot of sense. I do a lot of writing. Sometimes I enjoy it. Sometimes I write what people are supposed to say on the phone to others.* For the most part I really enjoy writing. Good thing. A lot of my week is spent think up words.

Add writing to the list of things that no course on youth ministry prepared me for. I'm not complaining. Fortunately I like writing. This has just got me thinking that I should probably take some writing courses, or at the very least some grammar courses.


*I'm kidding, I didn't mind that so much.

Fingerprints

I was at the police station yesterday getting my fingerprints taken.

I should point out that I wasn't in trouble with the law.

I was getting a criminal record check taken.

Apparently, they don't want to just take my word for it.

I'm in the process of applying with the school ditrict to volunteer at a local elementry school helping kids improve their reading skills. 

I'm excited about the prospects of helping in a local school. And I totally understand, and even appreciate, the criminal record check. But here's the thing, I'd love it if someone would explain to the guy taking the fingerprints, that not everyone having their prints taken is a criminal.

It wasn't a police officer who processed my digits. And this guy had some attitude on him. To his credit he softened as we went along, but at first I thought he was going to throw me in a cell until they got word back from Ottawa.

It turns out that not everyone doing a criminal record check needs to be printed, however, if you share a birthday with someone with a record you're going to get inked. And that ink does not wash off easily. I still have a bit of ink on my hands.

So, does anyone have any suyggestions for getting this stuff off? I promise not to raise any suspicions about your past.

Accented Sermon Prep

This Sunday I'll be preaching and so I'm surrounded by a good pile of books and a whole lot of thoughts.

But unlike most weeks, I'm a bit apprehensive about this one.

Here's the deal: every time I think through something before writing it down, the voice in my head speaking the thought has a Northern Irish accent.

What does this mean?

And so naturally I'm a bit concerned that come Sunday I'll run on the platform and deliver this sermon in a foreign accent. While I have nothing against speaking in an accent I can't help but think that the congregation will be very lost.

What To Expect In A Youth Conference Foyer

On Friday evening I was walking into a church auditorium for a youth conference that was about to begin. We had three students from our ministry with us, but they had scattered looking for people they knew and a spot much closer to the front. 


Makiah was with us.


What can I say, she's a hardcore 18month old rocker. She loves music and we were quite confident that the worship band was going to bring it*: an experience that she would love.**


So, we're about to walk into the auditorium, but were still in the buzz that is a conference venue foyer. You know, you've got colleges, missions agencies, child sponsorship programs, and band merchandise tables all competing for the attention of the teens who have cash to spend.*** You mix all that testosterone infused competition, with the buzz of students who have just been shooting back 5 hour energy drinks on the bus ride over, and add a tsunami of Axe Body spray and you've got the typical youth conference venue foyer. 


Our heads were buzzing a little bit. Do we go right in? Do we want to pause and check out a booth or two? I forgot a pen, do you think anyone will give me one?  Do any of the colleges have an iPad I can play with? If I stop here is that guy going to talk at me for 20 minutes about the awesomeness of their ministry in Timbucktwozistan, while I think about how I could have read all this in 30 seconds off their website, and wonder if that school over there has an iPad I could be looking this up on?


There is much to consider in a conference venue foyer.


And as we were walking towards the auditorium door, someone was grabbing my hand, to shake it and greet me. 


A bit weird. 


But awesome.


It was a guy I met five years ago in Northern Ireland, and hadn't seen in four. 


We were able to chat a bit here and there over the course of the weekend. Catching up and hearing what God was doing in each of our lives. 


It was wonderful.


Wonderful because it was such a picture of how the family of God is supposed to be. Brothers who can chat after four years of separation as if nothing and everything has changed. 


We've both been through a lot in four years. Which is exciting. All the more exciting when you get to see similarities between the stories and share in the faithfulness and awesomeness of our God. 


It was the highlight of my weekend. Right up there with my daughter dancing in my arms to the music. 


Also had the opportunity to preach in church Sunday morning. Check back later and I'll post a link to hear the sermon online. 






* They did


** She did. And I have to admit to a certain sense of awesomeness for getting my kid into such great concerts. She might as well experience as many as she can while she's free. 


*** And I'm sorry, but colleges, when you're over there in the corner saying: "hey come chat with me, I have candy." You come across a little creepy. And no one is excited by pens anymore.  Well, that's not entirely true. I'm excited by pens. But guess what: I graduated from college 10 years ago. I'm not your target audience. Your target audience doesn't use pens anymore. Just a few tips. By the way, thank you for the pens. 

Don't Worry Be Happy

For better or for worse, my ringtone for the past seven years have been predominantly the song "Don't Worry Be Happy."

Why?

It was cheap, and I purchased it in a moment when I was all caught up in nostalgia.

Last night I wanted an new ring tone and ended up buying a whole new phone.

Okay, so that's not how it went. I've previously written about our old cell phone. Here's a picture of it:

It's far from pretty, but it worked in its own temperamental and quirky sort of way. 

We've moved on to another phone. One with a camera (the photo above was taken with it), an Mp3 player, and most importantly a keyboard so we can get all into the texting.  Turns out we can now text anyone in the world for free. I'm actually keen to test this. Shoot me a note with your phone number and maybe I'll text you. Actually, the most important feature is probably the internal antenna. We had to super glue Flippy McFlipperson's on three times in the past month. 

Our new phone is also quite pretty. Want to see a picture. Well, you can't, Flippy doesn't take pictures. 

But if you see Sheena she'll probably let you see it and more than likely let you hold it for her for a while. She's already made a couple comments about the size. 

I should say that the motivation behind the switch is to better communicate with people: especially the younger crowd who are frequently doing the texting. After our event Monday night Sheena became convinced that I needed a better phone to be better equipped to do my job. I'm trying not to treat it like a toy, but rather a ministry tool since that increases its holiness.*

But now we need a new ringtone. We've considered a few options and are weighing the pros and cons of each. 

I can tell you right now that it won't be Taio Cruz's song Dynamite. I do enjoy air travel from time to time and I would hate for the words "We gon' light it up, like it's dynamite" to be heard coming from my phone while I'm in an airport. 

So, any ringtone suggestions for us. What songs make for a good ring tone? Or is the boring old ringer best? What do you think? And is it acceptable to get my wife a Bluetooth for her birthday?

*are ministry tools tithe deductible? 

July

Well, it's been a month since I've written. This is a feeble attempt to explain why.

The past month was filled.

We packed a lot in.

We did some stuff, but God was doing more.

And I'm still trying to sort it all out.

Here's the thing, in the past month I've experienced some of the most incredible ministry highlights ever. Also, in the past month, I've been through some very difficult ministry challenges. Yes, you could say the most difficult ministry challenges.

Funny how often they go together.

I want to say that it's been a joy to go through both, but somehow that seems wrong. Can it be a joy to go through challenges? Can it be a joy to walk though hardships with others?

I think that while is sounds totally wrong to say, we are supposed to declare with joy everything that God is doing in our lives--including the difficulties and hard times.

In the past month I haven't had much to say.

I've tried to listen a lot.

I've tried to observe and be with people where they are at in life.

To sit.

To be present.

To be available.

To understand.

Although, I have little understanding.

I have asked questions but I'm still waiting for the answer.

All I can do is rejoice that God is doinging something in my life and in the lives of many people around me.

It doesn't make sense.

It will probably never make sense.

I'm coming to grips wtih that.

What seems to make sense is all the great things that have happened in the past month. Here are a few of them that I'm celebrating today:

- We ran a VBS for pre-school kids at our church. And lots of kids came. I mean, there were never fewer than 18 children between the ages of 2 and 5 running around our church those four days.

- It's hard to be having a bad day when you're having a Dance Party that praises Jesus with four-year-olds.

-  I was part of an incredible group of 11 people (8 youth and 3 adults) who travelled to Port Hardy to partner with that church in their vision for reaching their community.

- In Port Hardy we saw over 70 kids come out to the camp we were helping put on.*

- God answered our prayer in regards to kids at the Port Hardy camp, and the answer was a surprise, not only in how many kids came, but because it revealed in ourselves a higher capacity than we imagined. 

- We've seen God move hearts toward him.

- We continue to meet more people and make new friendships.

- And our daughter, Makiah, is now walking and it's so much fun to watch her "run" towards other kids, tackle them, and give them hugs and kisses. Also enjoyable, how often she smashes Sheena's and my head together for a kiss then joins in.**

One of the greatest joys has been being with Sheena through everything. She had a part in everything that has happened in the past month: the high and the low. She is amazing, and a big part of why this past month has been amazing.

And so today I wish to declare that this what what God has been doing in my life: great joy and great challenge.

Please be praying for our youth who have been learning a lot as well, our church, the church in Port Hardy, and the pastor there.

thank you

- - - -

*Okay, kinda funny story. All along we were planning for a camp of about 35-40 kids because that's what we had the year previous. Then, a week and a half before the trip I spoke with their pastor and he asked if we could handle 50. I thought about their building size, space issues, leadership, and sighed, "I think we could do that." Then we got to town and he said, "registration is up to 60 and there's a waiting list." By the end of the camp we had 72 kids come through. We never had more than 62 in a single day, and that was probably a good thing.

**Less enjoyable is how often her kisses involves her tongue hanging out. I don't know where she learns that from. I know she likes puppies, and I'm beginning to think she wants to be one.

VBS Next Week

In the hours leading up to the kick off of a VBS I'm always a weird mix of excited, nervous, stressed, worshipful, and jittery and exhausted.

The jitters are really just from the high levels of caffeine in my body necessary because of the lack of sleep over the past two weeks. For some reason it's hard to sleep when the next days "to-do" list is much longer than the list of things accomplished that day. Eventually the VBS begins whether everything was accomplished or not. Often it's only little things that I think would make everything cooler that get missed. Well, they're only missed by me. Truthfully, given my track record to coolness, most people probably wouldn't find them all that cool anyway.

Usually the morning of the thrid day is the best day of VBS for me. Everyone's into a good routine and things are humming along. This is why two day VBS' just don't cut it for me. You miss the best day. The last day is never all that good, because it's the last day, and they are usually finale touches that I'm hoping work as well in real life as they should in my head.

Regardless, VBS begins tomorrow. I'm super excited, and typing fast because of the jitters. It's an awesome privilage to work with families and their children. One I'm trying to relish amidst all the things that are yet to be done. 

Cell Phone Envy

Sunday morning I walked to our church. On the way I passed one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time. I took a picture of it:











Wait, you don't see it?

Oh, that's because my phone doesn't have a camera. To take a picture with my phone you have to take your phone, dial your number so that you get your voice mail, then describe the scene with as much detail as possible. That's what I did. I took a picture, it's just a mental one. That's right, my phone takes mental pictures.

Does your phone do that?

The phone of every student in our youth group does.


And there are almost as many iPhones in our youth group as there are youth leaders.

And not a single youth leader has one.

I know youth pastors who do.

They're the cool kids at the youth leader get-togethers.

You can always spot the guys with the smart phones. They're fact checking the speaker on wikipedia. Then correcting the wikipedia entry if they think it's wrong too. They're chatting with students on facebook while at a "wilderness" retreat. At lunch, they're downloading all the videos and graphics the speaker just used so that they can give a talk next week they will say was "inspired" by the one they just heard.  But really it's the same talk.  And they have packed the smallest bag because everything they need is on their phone. You may think they have the Holy Book memorised but really there's an app for that.

I'm okay with youth pastors having better phones than I do. I've accepted that it will probably always be that way. But I'm having a little trouble accepting the new golden rule for youth pastors:

Thou shalt not covet thy ninth grader's iPhone. 

It's becomming a tough rule to follow.

Three years ago, we'd go on youth trips and I'd pass my phone around so studetns could call their parents as we returned to town. This was helpful for parents timing student pickup. Now there is no need. Now students have texted, or called, or tweeted, "back in town, mom come pick me up" before I can even open my phone and offer it.

Okay, I've yet to have a student in our group do that last one, but it's coming: I feel it in my bones.

The rare student that doesn't have a phone of thier own is too embarrased to admit it to the group and even more embarrased to be cauth using my phone* for fear that somone might think it's theirs.

I love the idea of the junky car club. The idea of "living with less to give more" apeals to me on so many levels. In many ways that's how my wife and I live. However, there is no junky cell phone club. At least not one I could fine in the five seconds of searching I did on google with the search terms "junky phone club."**


I do not use a six year old cell phone because it's what Jesus would do.

I'm okay, and have accepted, my lack of coolness. Consider the points I make in this post or this one. It surprises me how much I consider my uncoolness. I'm okay with a six year old phone: it gets the job done for the most part.

This morning I'm wondering if my lack of technology tells others that I'm not prepared to live in today's world. You won't get a text from me. You will not find me driving with a bluetooth.  And I will never be updating my facebook status while away from a desk. Why? Because my phone doesn't do any of those things.

So, hopefuly people can relate to me even if I didn't get what they tweeted five seconds ago. And hopefully we can connect even if I don't answer my phone while I'm driving. And hopefully you're okay with me calling you back.

And hopefully this isn't about cell phone envy. But sometimes it feels like it is. However, I'm not about to get a new phone anytime soon.




* I almost referred to it as antiquated technology, but it's not even up to those standards. I'm considering launching a series of "your moma" style jokes about my phone. Consider this, my first offering: My phone is so out of date that razor phones make fun of it. My phone is so out of date it drops more calls than the new iPhone. My phone is so out of date today's youth don't even know how to use it. My phone is so out of date there's a rotary dial. Feel free to add more in the comments section.

** I did, however, find a forum called "Jetta Junkies." I assume it's for people who love the Volkswagen Jetta, but I did not investigate further.

An Open Letter to Fanny Packs

Dear Fanny Packs:


I have a confession: I've spent my whole life resisting you.

So many people have told me countless times of your lack of coolness and I've believed them. It turns out that the only way I could be any less cool, would be to wear one of you.

But now I need some of you: four to be exact, although six would be nice.

How is it that every lifeguard, and dorky dad on the planet have one of you, yet when i need to buy one I can't find a store that sells you? Is there some secret underground Lifeguard/dorky-dad supply shop?

Do I need a time machine to go back to 1988 when you were everywhere?  I was nine then. Were you the reason it was a simpler time?

I read on Wikipedia that some of you are designed by Louis Vuitton. Is that real, or a Wikipedia editor's idea of a joke? I really don't need a designer fanny pack, but if that's all that is available I'd consider it.

It's true that I have no desire to use you for your intended purpose. I desire to fill you with candy and make students in our youth group wear you for a game we're calling "Human Wrestling Pinatas." Are you hiding from me because of this? I can assure you that no beating devices will be used in the playing of this game.

If you're willing to come out of hiding and tell me where I can find you, it would be much appreciated.

Sincerely,

Frustrated Youth Worker

Student Not a Student a.k.a. Games Youth Pastors Play

"Okay, is that guy in high school, or is he as old as he looks? He acts 16 but looks 26. I just don't know."

That was a common thought in my head last Friday. I had the privilege of being at an amazing event for high school students, but I was having the hardest time counting heads. I counted four times before giving up and estimating. It wasn't because everyone was moving around so much. It was because I couldn't tell whether a number of students were in high school, or if they were adults there as chaperons.

It was confusing, and awkward.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone, and the entire time you were unable to focus on what they were saying because you were trying to figure out how old they are?

I find myself playing the "Student not a Student" game. The rules are simple. You pick a member of the crowd and guess if they are a student or an adult.

This seems to be happening more and more. My wife would say it's because I'm getting old. True, typically at a youth rally 98% of the people are younger than I am. However, playing "Student not a Student" is nothing new. One day in high school my friends and I spent a week thinking that a new classmate was a new teacher.

I don't want to go all Jerry on you, but what's the deal with the 17 year olds looking 26 and the twenty five year olds looking 16?

Here are some tips I've come up with to tell.

- Ask them to moon walk. If they do it they're "Not a Student" if they look at you like you're from the moon then they're a "Student."
- Watch the Mosh Pit. If the individual tires after three or four jumps they're "Not a Student" if they last an entire song and still have energy for a second they may be a "Student" but it's tricky a secondary test is needed
- Observe the Mosh Pit Exit. Does the subject leave the pit under duress only to sit on the side for 20 minutes breathing into a paper bag? Definitely "Not a Student." Do they sprint out grab a slice of pizza and had back in? "Student"
- Ask how they got their iPhone. First off, do they have an iPhone? I don't. If they do they're probably not a pastor. If they paid for it themselves then mostlikely they're "Not a Student." If their parents paid for it then most likely you can ask what grade they are in.
- Use words you don't know the meaning of but think students would use. If the subject responds in kind then they are "Not a Student." The possible responses of a "Student" are too many to list. Chances are, if they do anything other than respond in kind, they are a "Student."
-Do you detect the musty smell of dried baby spit up on them or detect a last minute spot wash. Chances are a "Not a Student" only has one or two good youth rally outfits. If they have kids there is a grate likelihood that they were puked on moments before going out the door. That leaves no time to change, if there even is something clean and rally worthy to change into, and barely time to spot wash. Is one patch slightly cleaner than the rest? Is there a fait smell of sour milk about them? If yes then most likely "Not a Student" or a sloppy eater. If no most likely "Student."
- Ask a student you know for help. This is ultimately my go to move. It has never failed. Somehow studetns can always tell. They must have some sort of radar for it. As good as the moon walk test is, it can be foiled. This test is sound.

Hope this helps.

Here's wishing that everyone just looked thier age. Well, at least for now.