Inter-generational ministry is dangerous

(Quick note: I think Bill Beatty might be dead ... or dead tired. Either way we miss him and are praying for him.)

I have been working towards an intergenerational ministry at my church. We segregated based on age groupings, and I don't think it's beneficial for anyone. The drama team I lead was working on a video and we were including three older adults. The youth had written the scenes themselves. The final scene we were shooting was of a crazy man trying to help a little old woman across the street.

Alma is a great lady who very few of the youth know. She's amazing. She is competing with my grandparents for my favorite older adult right now. (If Virgil and Elaine are reading this, more cookies would help your chances!) She was doing a great job hamming up the scene, which was funny to begin with, when she placed her cane infront of her foot and tripped. She fell hard. Really hard. Then she rolled into a busy street.

It was terrifying. She could have easily broken a hip. She could have been bruised from top to bottom. She was fine, thank God. We helped her up and she laughed about it. She didn't have a single bruise and went shopping the next day.

Intergenerational ministry is dangerous for a lot of reasons. There are differences of opinion that could seriously damage young Christians. Disapproving eyes can trample on the dreams of the young. Cultural differences can be too much for both youth and older adults.

It's worth it.

On ministry

It seems like I was the only one who did anything to get ready for the canoe trip this weekend. I had a little help from three of the professors, but it feels like I did everything else my self. I had to get the canoes by myself, I had to pay for the food, I had to print out and hang up the fliers, me, I, me, I, I, I, me, me, me. We had fewer people this year than we did last year. It was colder than last year, and I think that was a big deciding factor. We had a really great time. I know that a few of the guys had major breakthroughs because of the speaker and the fellowship. I know that we grew closer together as male mission majors. Dustin, after hearing the speaker, wrote out his experience of being called into missions. I sat at my dining room table and cried reading it.

Today, I taught Sunday school, enjoyed the video clip I had prepared during the week, started shooting video for the next project, went to youth group, and signed up to be part of the summer prayer team.

Sunday school went well and I think the youth got the message - what else can I ask for?, everyone enjoyed the video clip, none of the video footage that we took today made the tape, youth group sucked, and I'm having second thoughts about the summer prayer team. You win some you lose some would be the adage I would want to use ... but ... that doesn't seem to fit. I consider ministry a victory. We had a discussion time with the youth, in which one youth answered one question (and that was the extent of youth involvment) in the twenty minutes we discussed a video clip ... but, I can't help but think that God will use that discussion time. Maybe one of the youth will realize that the adults are there for him. Maybe, amidst the rambling and the noise the adults made in semi-coherent thoughts spoken outloud before fully formed, one youth had the words he needed spoken into his life. Maybe.

But, as I explained in my Sunday school lesson - we as Christians are a people of hope. We have hope that no matter what happens - no matter what goes wrong- God is in control. I'm filled with hope.

My parade story

I just finished reading about how much you hate parades, and I couldn't resist retelling this story.

I love parades.

When I was in Russia I marched in a parade. They don't have firetrucks or zem-zems so all the people march in the parades. I went and watched, and when I saw some of my friends I started marching with them. It was exciting. It was Easter Sunday, so I figured I was marching in an Easter parade. It wasn't. It was definetly a parade /political protest to get the government to return to Communism. In all of the excitement I had failed to read the signs (or realize that my friends were all carrying Communist flags!) and I marched in a huge political parade. It was the talk of the town that week that the American had even marched in support of restoring Communism.

I still love parades.

A Moment

I had a moment of sinlessness. It was great. I had confessed everything I could think of...and, for good measure, asked to be cleansed of stuff I didn't even know I had done. I was perfect. Without spot of blemish. I was sinless....

Then Rachel spilled chocolate milk on her brand new shirt and I became a crazy man...

Sigh...

And I bit Lori's head off when she suggested I over reacted and I told Elie to go away...

It was a fleeting moment of perfection...

I'm still a work in progress...

And God won't let me go - so today, I'm hanging on by my fingernails...but I'm hanging on...