Youth Stories - July 26th 2022

Recently a team comprising of Carolyn, Sherrie, and myself took a handful of students to Seaside. I have a friend and a former college who works as a worship pastor at a church called North Cost Family Fellowship. His wife is the Children’s director, and they are combining their power to run a VBS for the students there. Last year we took four students to help and this year we brought ten. We took some of my favorite students. I know that in theory as a Youth Pastor we’re not supposed to have favorites, but look, it is what it is. So, we crammed all of our things into a few cars including a van that was made when Nixon was president and drove for half a day. Once there the smell of the sea wafted over the church campus and we unloaded and made ourselves at home in a tiny kids classroom on the second story of the church building. That first night we barely slept on air-mattresses and cots and awoke early the next day to be a part of the happenings of the church’s Sunday service.

 

I was granted the privilege of preaching for the main body of the church and I spoke on Philippians 1:27-30, with the main theme being the concept of living our lives in a manner that is worthy of the gospel. This concept has been on my mind a lot lately. How is it even possible to live your life in a manner worthy of the Gospel. The gospel is the story of the God-king that came not to conquer but to be conquered and in doing so save the world from themselves. It’s a narrative that is unrivaled in the history of mankind. In all of our tales kings rule in power that comes from status and not power that comes from humility. So once done with the preaching we got to work putting the final finishing touches on the campus set up. Tables lay out for registration, decorations adorned every hallway, the stage was set to look like a majestic national park, and the whole building sat in eager expectation of the little bodies that would inhabit its classes the next day. We took the kids to the beach that day and watched the sunset. Going to the beach had always been my happy place and it was good to share that happy place with good people.

 

VBS kicked off the next day and 140 little kids crammed into the sanctuary. We sang songs to Jesus as well as songs about bananas, trust me when I say it made sense at the time. On that day and the next four that would follow it, kids went to games and laughed and ran and played. They came to the science station where Carolyn taught them about the mysteries of God’s creation, and they came to Bible stories where I taught through the story of Joseph. I love working with little kids. They came to those story times with wide eyes and laughed when I was silly with them and sat and listened to the serious moments of a story of a man who was rejected by the ones he loved, and yet he was used by God. Throughout it all our high schoolers were amazing. They selflessly loved the children of Seaside and every day made them feel like a priority. They worked with little sleep but an excess of energy. I got non-stop compliments from the members of North Coast Church. As if I had anything to do with how great they were.

 

Each day after we were done we helped to clean up and reset for the next day. After which we took them on adventures. We went to Astoria and climbed a tower high enough that I could barely look over the edge. We walked though the forest to stand at the base of a tree that arced high into the clouds. We walked along the shore line at low tide and bathed in a waterfall that poured a river into the sand. We swam in water so cold you had had to make a visual check on your lower torso to ensure it was still there. We went to the movie theater and watched the latest generic Marvel movie. We went shopping in the downtown and played arcade games that yielded cheap prizes. We went to an abandoned fort and played hide and go seek. We watched the sunset on the ruins of a run aground ship as the waters rolled in. We returned day after day to the church with shoes full of sand, sunburns, and a fresh set of memories.

 

Each night we studied God’s word in the book of Ephesians. We did an inductive Bible study where we read a passage and had the same set of 7 questions to answer about the scripture. The first night was a bit rocky. It takes a bit of getting used to, especially when you’re new to a group and unsure of how honest or vulnerable to be. As the week progressed it became something they started to look forward to. They became quicker to answer questions and more introspective about what God’s word meant for their life. On Thursday we delved into Ephesians 5, in which Paul delivers his ideal picture of what marriage looks like. I know that for the overwhelming majority of the students their home life is not one of peace and security. There are some hard aspects of that passage especially when Paul calls for wives to be submissive as the group we brought was mostly female. After a hesitant pause the hard questions started. I explained that God’s intent for a marriage is for both to be loving one another and living in harmony with each other and God. One student shared that that’s not what her home life looked like and shared some details about her highly dysfunctional family. This led to another student to echo that her home life was not great and before I knew it the walls hadn’t just come down, they’d been vaporized entirely.

 

What followed next was hard. One student after another shared their experience of a broken home. Some of my leaders did as well. There were few dry eyes as they found solace in the fact that they were not alone in their struggles. One girl in particular, K, found out that her mother was not the hero she’d been painting her out to be. K’s mother had passed from a brain tumor in January and a month before camp she learned that the man who had raised her was in fact her stepfather. Her idea of marriage and family was impaired because of the brokenness she experienced. One girl shared with us that she’d been raped by a stepbrother. She said it was the first time that she’s ever told another living sole about that. A call to DHS is in the works. Another student said that her parents had their handwritten wedding vows in a frame above their bed. When their marriage started to dissolve her mother threw the frame at her husband which shattered on the wall. At that point the student’s little brother ran in to see if everything was OK and started to cry because he cut his feet on the glass. After some catharsis and sharing I brought them back to the passage at hand. I told them that past is not prologue. Just because you’d encountered brokenness does not mean that you’ll find yourself unable to escape that cycle. I reread the passage in Ephesians and this time I told them to envision what they want in a marriage and how they’re going to make choices different than the ones they’d seen. We all went to bed tired in more ways than one.

 

Friday was the final full day. We ended VBS on a high note and gave the children hugs and high fives telling them we hope to see them next year. We went and played on go carts and tiny roller coasters and finished the time by going to bed as a reasonable hour. The next day we left for Medford. We took them to Tillamook cheese factory and got ice cream. We stopped along the coast and walked in tide pools before finally arriving home at 10:30 at night. It took me a few days to recover, it wasn’t just the physical aspect of it, but the trip as a whole. The experience was marked by high highs and low lows. It was amazing to see God literally at work in these student’s lives. They came to serve or maybe to serf, but in the end God spoke. He spoke to them through affirming words from one another, through his scripture as we studied it, and through the interactions with the children. I walked away deeply impressed by the depth of character I witnessed and grew to love the kids a bit more.

 

With camps and experiences like this it’s never done when we get back. God uses times like a week on the coast to grow and deepen our walk with him. That’s why we do camps. It’s not about the destination, it’s about the lessons learned along the way. I think for some, years from now they’ll point to that week as a time where the Spirit moved in their lives. I never know what the end of these stories will be. I know for some it’ll be the start of something better. For others they’ll have to return to those broken homes and find the courage to endure and improve. A week after camp, K got up on Sunday morning to find her stepfather dead in his bed. He wasn’t an old man, and the exact cause is still unknown as of this writing. On the car ride home, she blamed him for a lot of woes in her life. She pointed the finger at a person who had continued to raise her despite his complicated relationship with his estranged wife. I don’t know if she ever got a chance to reconcile with him in that week after camp. These stories live on. It’s one part of a bigger picture. I am grateful to have seen God in all of the moments of light between.