We didn't.

Youth ministry is an incredible vocation. It's life giving. It's flexible. It's purpose filled. It's ever changing. It's fluid. It's fun. It's creative. It's rewarding.

At the same time, youth ministry is involves what I would call "lose sleep over your students" commitment. It's tiring. It's frustrating. It's surprising. It's heavy. It's a whole lot of planning and adjusting.

Then there are the people you work with, teenagers whose moods change like the weather in Texas. They are also the people that keep us doing what we do, because somehow, somewhere, God broke our hearts for them. I think God broke my heart for me when I was a teenager and I always felt the need to give that gift back.

Like every job or ministry, there are upsides and downsides and parts where we live in the middle, and many times when one just needs a break.

This being the case for me, we didn't travel this year.

We didn't go home to Ohio for Christmas.

We didn't pack, prepare, or plan.

We didn't get sick.

We didn't fuss over wrapped gifts.

We didn't go into the office.

We didn't worry about parking, or someone picking up our mail.

We didn't use the internet much, check email everyday, or update our statusus.

We didn't go shopping for hours.

We didn't feel pressure.

This Christmas was the first time that we didn't do so many things. I missed my family incredibly, but I knew it was the right time for us, at least this year, to rest.


This Christmas has been one of our best. Over the past ten years we've never had a day quite like the one we shared together with our daughter in our home. We've never had a holiday where it was just us together, sharing our hearts with family over the phone, and our company with each other in the stillness of our non-schedule.

I'm going to stay right here today in the gift of withdrawal, solitude, fellowship, and rest.

Because we didn't, we did have a seriously beautiful and simple Christmas.

Marshmallow Fluff

There's a recipe on the side of the marshmallow fluff container with the title, "Never Fail Fudge".

This looked promising.

The recipe:

5 Cups Sugar
2 Small Cans Evaporated Milk
1/4 LB. Butter
1 Jar Marshmallow Fluff
1 Teaspoon Salt

Melt all of these together, bring to a boil for five minutes.

Then add:

1 1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla
1 Cup Walnut Halves
2 Large Packages of Semi-Sweet Chocolate Pieces

Remove from heat, blend well, pour into a container and allow to cool.

Sounds easy enough right?

There was one ingredient that the Fluff people didn't count on....ME!

I know possess a vat of fudge topping to pour on anything I wish. It's not able to be divided to pass out as a Christmas treat---but it will do as a spread on toast or over ice cream I guess.

There's a person one can write to, also on the side of the Fluff jar, whose name is Lynne White. You can send a $1.00 to her to get more ideas. I wonder if I sent $1.00, if she could tell me what when wrong?

I remember the Thanksgiving my mom accidentally had a burner on the stove on as she placed the turkey (in a glass dish) on it to rest before dinner. I also remember the turkey explosion that sent turkey and shards of glass everywhere, even in the noodles! Pieces of turkey danced over our heads as it had hit the ceiling with such awesome force. We ate a little danish chicken for Thanksgiving that year, all eight of us, laughing all the way.

I guess fudge you can pour from a pitcher isn't so bad, and I'm grateful that Kirra isn't old enough to know the difference. Coy, on the other hand, will wonder why we are eating ice cream so often these next few days.

Merry Christmas!

Of the Little Ways

There has been a prayer on an index card that I've carried from desk to desk, office to office, book to book, that came from my time at Mount Vernon Nazarene University. I'm not sure where I found it, so I'm not able to reference it's source. What I do know is that the prayer is written by Saint Therese, Saint of the Little Ways. I believe there are parts missing that didn't fit on my card. The heart of the prayer still resounds.

"May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you...May you be content knowing you are a child of God...Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and to love. It is there for each and every one of us."

The gift of youth ministry.

Last night was a reminiscent one for me. I was thinking of the many youth group Christmases past--the parties, the gifts, the cards of encouragement and support, the meals, and times with friends. In those memories, there was one thing that has never changed; the awesome resilience of teenagers hearts, their belief in God and in each other. No matter how many mistakes I make, no matter how many times their leadership fails them, no matter how far I've traveled from relational ministry to program land (not that programs are are bad, but I'm great at getting caught up in them), no matter what, teenagers find a way to seek God and find grace as they share Christmas together. This is their gift to me as we get to watch them grow and discover God and God's purposes.

When people tell me that I'm gifted in ministry, they are absolutely right, I am gifted...with teenagers who give gifts they cannot see.

Paying the piper.

Our teenagers rose to the challenge during November and brought in a ton of food items for our compassionate care ministry. Let's say, over 1,800 food items. The price on the table: leg waxing and worm eating by our youth staff. We'll never be the same.

They killed Slimy.

There's this giant cocoon whose host attached itself on the side of our garage one day when we were watching. It was a rare day to see a slimy worm building itself into a cocoon, so Coy and I watched together with one year old daughter (Kirra) until it was safe and sound. We have been keeping watch ever since.

Day after day Slimy hung in it's cocoon. Everyday for the past month we would say hi to Slimy. I kept thinking, "one day Slimy will fly away beautiful".

Until today,(queue the Darth Vader music) when the power washers, hired by the home owner's association, came by and power washed everything before the holidays--including Slimy.

We'll miss you Slimy. Sorry about our obsession for cleaning dust off things that were meant to be a little dirty.

Wrapped in our skin.

This is the first year that I spent a good amount of time thinking about how a middle school student might perceive the Christmas story. I thought about their developmental postures and their squirrelly demeanor's as I mulled over expressions of why God would come to earth in the form of a human son.

Here are some of the discoveries I've found so far.

Our high school pastor, Rick, offered up a story that he knew of by Paul Harvey "The Man and the Birds" that illustrated the "why" so very well. It's a brilliant story that we can tell to students. I told the story two weeks ago to make our students laugh (as I exaggerated and made up extra parts) and to help them see, perhaps for the first time, that God wanted so very much to communicate with us in a way that we could understand, through a person our image mirrored, through someone we could trust both in his life and in his death.

Last week, I told a story about a $50 bill my husband used to get for Christmas every year. I used the bill as a prop throughout the message to talk about God's gift of grace. Near the end, I offered the bill to a girl named Brenda. I asked her if she would like it. "Yeah, sure" was her wide-eyed response. Everyone sitting in her row thought it was fake. They took turns holding it up to the light. But it was very real and as that knowledge settled in on her, a sad look began to shadow her face. As I continued talking she kept shaking her head as if to say "I don't want this" or "I don't deserve this". At the end of the service, Brenda and her hype-ed up (and jealous) friends came up to speak with me. She wanted to give the bill back. I told her it was a gift. No strings attached. Just like grace. It's there for us to accept and respond to. One of the girls replied, "why Brenda!?!" and I replied to her..."why us?"

Then today, as I think about one last night with our students before Christmas I am arrested with a simple picture that Brennan Manning uses to describe grace. Grace came wrapped in our skin. What a price to pay, a price that could only be motivated by love. The love of Christ is the same always. Love came wrapped in our skin. Love was crucified in our skin. Love lives today and forever here in us if we will accept that gift.

So, the story I'll tell this week (mainly to myself), will be about the greatest gift of all---the greatest gift in the history of forever---the gift that came wrapped in our skin. A human being is our gift. A gift who was very much God and very much ours, if we will look for him, if we will ask him in, if we will open up ourselves that the gift can arrive in our hearts.

Manning captures my heart. I have nothing to lose.

"When a man or woman is truly honest (not just working at it) it is virtually impossible to insult them personally. There is nothing there to insult. Those who ere truly ready for the kingdom were just such people. Their inner poverty of spirit and rigorous honesty had set them free. They were people who had nothing to be proud of.

There was the sinful woman in the village who kissed Jesus' feet. There was freedom in doing that. Despised as a prostitute, she had accepted the truth of her utter nothingness before the Lord. She had nothing to lose. She loved much because much had been forgiven her."

The Ragamuffin Gospel: Brennan Manning