resolution.

I’m a resolution-type. My family has this white board above the kitchen calendar where each of us writes our personal resolutions for the year, so I suppose I come by it honestly. Usually about half of the resolutions are serious and half are tongue-in-cheek, because that’s the way my family works. My mom brings the sincerity, my dad brings the sarcasm. The kids have a little of both.

Usually the resolution I put on the board has more of a winking tone and less of an honest one. But if you look in my 300 page red journal that I’ve carried with me for almost three years now, you’ll find list after list of resolutions in minuscule handwriting. (This is both to fit the words into the graph paper and to prevent those sitting near me from catching glimpses of my soul too easily.) There are always New Year’s resolutions, but there are many others too: summer interning resolutions, spring break resolutions, this weekend resolutions, resolutions about how to battle a sin or resolutions about how to love people better tomorrow.

My resolution on the board this year is to eat breakfast, coupled with a small drawing of eggs and oatmeal. And as of today, February 4th, I would say that I have maybe eaten breakfast about 15 or 20 times this year. Kind of a failure as far as resolutions go. But I’m not giving up yet, mostly because this resolution is about more than the act of eating breakfast. It’s about having mornings again and not feeling like my day is something that just happens to me almost faster than I can handle it. I live at a fast pace and keep late hours. The former out of necessity and the later out of necessity and bad habits.

But I remember with great fondness that semester at Master’s when I got up before most of the rest of the campus and joined the quiet morning crowd in the caf. I ate my eggs and read my Bible and looked over my lesson plans, and, for a few brief months, I was a morning person. I like that me. I want her back. Eating breakfast again is a symbol, I suppose, for trying to regain some order and discipline in my life.

And that’s what all my resolutions are usually about, anyway.

I felt 19 again last night.

from an old email:

“I’ve never thought I had the gift of singleness.

I’m just scared of the gift of marriage.”

beginnings.

Last Monday was the parent orientation for One Hope Academy’s 5th and 6th grade class. I drove the big red van (the one Sarah and I not-so-affectionately nicknamed “Bertha”) out north to pick up parents. Watching the streaks of orange and pink sunset, I prayed for the new school year. And I was suddenly struck with the realization that–this is actually happening.

Last winter, Miriam and I read and read books about education. (We still do, I suppose.) But one of the things we saw as a reoccurring theme was that the teachers who had marvelous success with inner-city classrooms taught, for a large part, in 5th grade classrooms. We dreamed of teaching younger kids, kids who hadn’t yet given up on themselves. I wrote a long list of ideas in my journal, and we spent sunny afternoons at McClure Park dreaming about what we could do.

And so we had the first week of One Hope Academy’s 5th & 6th grade class. It wasn’t perfect. But I thought it was all the more beautiful for that. Twelve God-provided students sat in God-provided desks wearing God-provided uniforms and I was in awe.

(First day picture stolen from onehopeblog.wordpress.com)

These twelve–five girls, seven boys–are all students we met in our tutoring ministry. One I’ve known since she was tiny and crying every day because her mom was in jail. Now her mom I count a friend and sister.

One has come since the first summer of getAHEAD, and now she texts me on the weekends and I talk to her about ex-boyfriends (hers of course) and tell her not to date boys and to love Jesus more instead. At 11, I’m certain that’s the advice she needs to hear.

One I met for the first time this summer on the day I was the discipline manager of getAHEAD. He didn’t know me at all and cussed me out for that and for me not letting him go to game time until he let me talk to him about what he had done. His dad came up to the church and told me through an interpreter that his son would not be coming any more. And then he came the next week and it took courage for me to smile at him when we passed in the hallways, not knowing if another curse word would come my way in the next second. I didn’t know where we stood. I did know, as I told him multiple times that day, that I loved him. Then on graduation night, he wrote me a note asking my forgiveness. He’s been my friend ever since.

As I drove him and three other boys home Wednesday and Thursday, we talked about how this is the best school they’ve ever been to, about how they want to play football, about Harry Potter and other books of possible interest, and about how they never want to abuse women the way they have seen men abuse some of their moms. I thought of that verse in Deuteronomy about teaching as you walk in the way.

On the way back, Bertha and I drove in silence. I thought about how this school is kind of like parenting. I thought about how, at 23, I’m not ready to parent twelve 11 to 13 year olds. I thought about how my heart is going to get broken. And I renewed my commitment to pray.

We add the high school on Tuesday. Last week the freshly-sharpened pencils and new slight chill (if 80 degrees can be called that) and answered prayer at every turn filled me with my general fall optimism. But tonight I’m feeling more like the man in Mark, crying out, “I believe; help Thou my unbelief!” It seems like more than I can do, more wisdom and patience than I have to give. But this I call to mind and therefore I hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. And it is better than life. His mercies never come to an end. Therefore, having this ministry by mercy, we do not lose heart.

free-fallin’

Tonight I tried to watch the meteor shower in our backyard. Mostly all I could see was the spotlight from a downtown-direction searching its way across the sky. So I laid there and prayed and tried to recite John 14 and Psalm 46.

“Come and see the works of the Lord…”

I memorized Psalm 46 when I was a junior in high school and venturing into the new world of community college. I have vivid memories of standing outside of my algebra class, sitting in my car some early mornings, walking across campus, and comforting my heart with the truth of the Word. And tonight, my heart needed the strong reminder of Who my God is again.

from where i’m standing.

it’s been too long.

and now it’s a rainy night after a forever-long day and i’m listening to sad songs with two dear friends and eating gourmet cheese & sour patch kids. we all have freshly painted nails and have been talking about how it’s okay to be a girl and how to keep boys at arm’s length. sounds like a typical girls’ night, right?

but my life is so very far from typical lately. this afternoon i was typing up reading assessments for getAHEAD and i could hardly keep my eyes open. as assorted interns worked in the sanctuary, i collapsed face down on the floor and tried to nap. i started quoting psalm 46 when people got concerned–”God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. therefore we will not fear though the earth give way…” five-year-old nemauri wandered in, an intern following. and i was back in action mode, talking her out of sulky moods and finding games and books. loving her. God gives me strength when i need it…and often not before or after…

————————————

i wrote the above weeks ago. june 23, to be exact. and i’m still finding my life to be abnormal and i’m still finding that my refuge and strength is God alone.

i don’t write as often as i think of writing. mostly because i don’t know how to. i don’t know how to share the stories that break my heart and the ones that give me courage without demeaning these people who i hold so dear. i don’t ever want to exploit their stories.

but there’s also so much of me that just BURNS for American Christians to see what is happening in their backyards. to stop living a “Christian spin on the American dream” and to instead give their time and their money and their love to people who need hope.

and if you sat down and heard gregory talk about gangs, maybe you, like me, would want to give every dollar you could spare so we could start a middle school for him and all my other loves who are on the cusp of joining gangs and getting pregnant and dropping out of school and forsaking God…and yet God has given us this precious time to speak into their lives and they still want to be around us & be loved by us and they are willing to hear the Word and they ask me questions about Who Jesus really was…i feel i might break in half at the thought of not being a part of their lives.

and yet i remember the faithfulness of my God and how i cried over miracle and quinton and kapriati three weeks ago and then the Lord brought them back into my life a week later. and i remember that He loves His children more than i do. me being in gregory’s life will not keep him out of a gang. only God will. God is enough for these children and He is enough for me. He will provide for all of us.

grace to be content & courage to dream.

Two years ago, I wrote this.

there’s a restlessness to the hearts here.

i sat in hotchkiss lounge last sunday night and listened as our vice president spilled out his heart. i saw the faces of the people curled up on the floor near me. we all felt it–we all felt this longing to be anywhere but here, doing something huge for the kingdom. dr. tatlock played this song for us about the difference between who we are and who we want to be. he talked about that difference, about the moment that comes when you’re standing in target buying toothpaste and suddenly realize, “what the heck am i doing here? why am i buying toothpaste when people are dying?” but as clearly as i remember those moments in my life, i also remember all the times where i didn’t hesitate to buy something much less necessary than toothpaste because i wanted to be comfortable. i say we should pour out our money and our lives for the kingdom, and i buy another pair of shoes. i am not who i want to be.

a lot of us there that night felt that longing to be something other than what we are. we have these dreams about the kingdom that make going to economics class and then another sls meeting and then taco bell seem–well–pointless. worthless. yeah, i know, i’ve preached it to myself before that preparatory years are not wasted years, but sometimes it seems awfully like i am wasting them. (and i probably am.)

i was glad, though, that dr. tatlock talked about his dreams, about how he longs for the orphans and the slum kids and the children at juvenile court in la. and after he shared his dreams, he asked us, “what do you long for? what do you long to do or be a part of?” the responses began spilling from all over the room. tears filled my eyes as i heard their dreams. and my head filled with memories of all my dreams. i have too many…they won’t all fit in one lifetime. and sometimes i get scared because i care so much about so many things. i get scared that i’ll choose the wrong one and spend my life wishing i had followed another dream.

just some of the wishes for what i could be doing with my life:
- i want to give a home to the kids i love in tulsa
- i want to know what my baby sister means when she says she has stuff to tell me but not on the phone
- i want to be part of a church plant in africa
- i want to take prostitutes off the streets of skid row and show them Love
- i want to rock aids orphans
- i want to give hope to kids in broken families so they choose Jesus over drugs and alcohol
- i want to live in seattle with my little sister and minister to hippies and artists in our bohemian apartment
- i want to invite gang members into my home and see them changed by Love
- i want to live somewhere i might get killed and show that the gospel is worth more than my life

i don’t know how to see all of these desires fulfilled. i don’t even know how to choose which path to follow next. and i wish too often that my life looked more like my dreams. but sunday night was a reminder…that God can do and will do and is doing great things. and i was reminded that, whether or not i am directly involved, the kingdom is advancing. and even now i can be a part of it.

o God, give us the grace to be content and the courage to dream!

Tonight I feel it again. We prayed for hours last night, for the lost, for the world, for dreams we are scared even to name, for the captive and the poor, for our dear brothers and sisters, and for God to send laborers.

I remembered again how I’m a little scared of my own dreams. I’m scared they won’t come true and scared they will. I’m scared I’ll get to them and be disappointed. But I’m far more scared not to dream.

It’s still my prayer tonight, “God, give me the grace to be content and the courage to dream!”

2009. july to december.

Continued.

JULY

• “-- here we go! (prayer for the week: “open wide my door, my Lord, to whatever makes me love you more.”)”
  Project 61 is  always a highlight of my year. It’s the hardest, craziest, and best week of the summer and I always approach it with a lot of excitement and a little fear. I never know what crisis the week will bring, but I am always confident that God will show His strength and my weakness in wonderfully clear ways. Knowing this, I took a mewithoutYou lyric as my prayer for the week–and came back to it over and over. Whatever happened, it was sent so I would love God more. From the crazy games to the 2 straight hours of filling waterballoons for games to the relationships with the kids to that one night where Sarah and I just sat in the back of a truck (I think it was Dan’s) and just cried, God brought me closer to Himself.
• “to-do list: write message. finish homework. organize conference. mission memorization. throw wedding. get sleep. (the last one probably won’t happen.)“
  A little snapshot of life as an intern. It was a Wednesday. I was in charge of a girl’s retreat beginning on Thursday. I was writing a message on dating and sex for that retreat. Two messages, really, at two different levels. I was taking an online class and the homework was due that night. There was also Summer Fest and Mission Memorization that night, to be followed by a wedding of a couple who had been living together and decided to get married, for which I was in charge of decorations. It’s those times when I realize that sleep is overrated. And, more importantly, that God is strong in my weakness.
• “– purity of heart is to want One Thing.“
  More mewithoutYou song lyrics, these ones summing up the college Bible study message for that night. That study (“Unveiled,” as it is now called) is one of my favorites–it always convicts, challenges, and comforts me. To echo the band once again, “All I want is to want One Thing.”
• ““the weird thing is, all missionary wives die.” -malachi’s words of wisdom for the night.“
  Malachi’s teaching the missionary story on Wednesday nights was always a highlight for me–you never knew what that boy was going to say! This night, he hit upon an astounding truth as he described the life of yet another missionary who lost his wife. Funny, and yet a sobering reality. Life is fragile, and even more so on the mission field.

AUGUST

• “is definitely having lecrae withdrawals.“
  I went home for most of August. And while I had a wonderful time, I definitely found myself missing the summer, and, particularly at this moment, the music that was a constant of my summer. Lecrae and other Christian rappers were played almost continually on the vans, and their music was loved by kids and interns. There have been times that I have found myself in tears as the truth packed into one of the songs hit my heart in a fresh way.
• “made another blackberry pie. my family consumes this stuff at ridiculous rates.“
  One of the beautiful things about being home in August is picking blackberries in the front yard and having fresh pie in about an hour for almost no money. There was a 24 hour period in which I made 4 pies.

SEPTEMBER

• “if Your presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here.”
  At the end of August, I packed all my things into two cars and with Mom and Lydia for two days. I moved, officially, away from my hometown and my family. I moved to another place where my heart has found a home. And Moses’ words (which I once Sharpied on the sole of my favorite shoes) seemed appropriate. They’re words I pray a lot.
• “wants to punch racism in the face.”
  I began teaching and tutoring at The One Hope Academy, a school we started for inner city kids. And the more I deal with the problems facing the inner city, the more I come to hate the sins which have so devastated the lives of the people I am loving and serving. Racism is an enormous problem in the lives of the people I love. It is such a hidden thing—we like to think that we’ve eliminated all the problems of racism, but I just see all over the place the subtle racism that the kids I work with have completely internalized. Some days I just want to do something desperate and dramatic about it.
• “is perplexed but not driven to despair. (oh mondays.)”
  2 Corinthians comes alive for me in times of intense ministry. I read about Paul’s heart for the people and his troubles along the way and it doesn’t feel like 2000 years and half the world separate our ministries. I understand the words like I’ve written them myself. And I am perplexed by all the problems, but not driven to despair because I know the Sovereign Lord of the universe.
• “has become quite handy with a drill.”
  As Miriam and Nate worked on their new fixer-upper, I honed my skills with a paintbrush and learned how to use a drill as well. Miriam and I also got quite creative with cooking using just a microwave and a Panini press, and I did dishes at the church, on the front porch, and in my bathtub. Good missionary training, all of it.
• “– this is life, the raw, painful, beautiful wonder of it. of You.”

OCTOBER

• “is renouncing her life of crime.”
  The funny thing about this status is that I wrote it after watching a documentary about life in prison directed at scaring juvenile delinquents away from their lives of crime. After posting this status, I discovered that there was a warrant for me. I had forgotten to pay a seatbelt ticket I got in the summer of ’07, and now my background check wasn’t going through. When I paid the $20 ticket, all was forgiven—no late fees or anything. But I came quite close to doing time for my life of crime.
• “– i will glory in my Redeemer / His faithfulness my standing-place”
• “had a lovely fall walk with lottie collecting leaves for getAHEAD.”
  On Wednesdays, I teach art to the older kids at getAHEAD. This week, I decided that I was bored of pencil drawing and had them make leaf rubbings instead. Lottie and I probably had more fun on our walk to McClure Park collecting leaves than the kids did making their rubbings, but that’s just how things are when Lottie and I and fall leaves are involved.
• “is going to THE event of the fall, apparently. ”
  Ironically, this was written in anticipation of the Fry’s annual bonfire and hayride. A few hours later, I returned from the hospital in the aftermath of Anthony’s broken collarbone and cried and laughed at the same time when I reread this. God was so gracious to us, even and especially in difficulty. I found myself comforting Bella with truth about God’s sovereignty as she blamed herself for Anthony’s injury. As I preached truth to her, my own heart was convicted that I needed to hear those very things. God is a good Father who loves these children so much more than I possibly could.

NOVEMBER

• “loves that post project 61 feeling.”
  Fall Weekend happened with no major disasters. And once again I felt the huge relief that it is to have survived P61. You just kind of ponder everything you learned, both in the sermons and in the trenches and marvel at God moving in little and big ways. We had a One Hope football game, did work projects for the church, and learned about God’s design for sexuality while raising our awareness of the sex slave trade. All less than 48 hours.
• “i don’t know if, possibly, i’m in love, / but i know i love possibility” d.c.b.
• “walking the line.”
  I made a week-long trip out to California to see my dear ones there. It was lovely and warm and I saw so many people who are my heart. And Julie and John and I watched “Walk the Line.” Well, Julie and I mostly painted. But it was on.
• “Forgive me for being so ordinary while claiming to know so extraordinary a God.” Jim Elliot.
• “– the giving tree and hide & seek.”
  This was one of those getAHEAD nights where Miriam and I ended up with kids at the house afterward. We made dinner and read my favorite children’s book out loud and played hide & seek and sardines. Those are some of my favorite times—for the relationships built and for the ways we have more opportunities to share Christ. It’s amazing how often daily life can open conversations about the gospel when you just let people into your home and your life.
• “had an insane “insane night”. and helped build a 10 foot monster out of boxes. and that’s just the beginning of thanksgiving break, folks.”
  This one explains itself. Other things Thanksgiving break held: baking 6 pies, family dinner with the Blankenships, a family football game (of course), much reading, cheering TU to the only win I saw that season, and being really, really thankful for the life God has given me and the people He has put in it.
• “is held by something stronger than anything this world offers.”

DECEMBER

• “– my Jesus makes all things new.”
  The more I see my heart and the despair and depravity of the world, the more this line makes me stand in awe. “All things new”—what a promise!
• “is grace bradley.”
  The getAHEAD Christmas play, “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever,” consumed my life for a good portion of December. I studied my lines while substituting, held rehearsals almost every day, spent hours plotting with Miriam how on Earth we could possibly pull it off, drove 1.5 hour van routes to get all the actors together, assembled costumes, props, and sets, made a million lists and lost most of them, and even dreamed about the play most nights. And “Grace Bradley” made her theatrical debut and was absolutely thrilled by how well all her “Herdmans” and “church children” did. It was wonderful. The best ever.
• “– oh Emmanuel, how we need You with us!”
  This name of the Christ child became so precious to me this Christmas season. “God with us”—it’s what we needed desperately and rejected in our sin. I watched people rejecting the miracle of God with us, and I prayed for people who needed to see more clearly that God is now with us. (I am one of those people.)
• “is going to nestle all snug in her bed and wait for visions of sugarplums (though if the pattern of the past few nights is followed, visions of one hope kids will be closer to the truth).”
  Being home for Christmas was wonderful. But still almost every night I dreamed about the kids back in Tulsa.
• – “i am tired of living in a way that looks exactly like people who do not have the Spirit of God living in them…i want to be different today from what i was yesterday as the fruit of the Spirit becomes more manifest in me.” -francis chan
  My resolution.

“

2009, jan to june.

I spent some time reading through my Facebook status updates from the past year. So much of my thoughts and feelings of the past year is caught in those few lines–I saw a whirlwind tour of 2009 again as I skimmed over the sentences.

JANUARY

• “doesn’t want to spend this year clinging to the balance beam…”
  This is from a Francis Chan sermon Jared shared at the beginning of the year. The basic point: take risks because of your love for Christ. And Chan was literally clinging to a balance beam as he made his points.
• “and mercies new every morning” / “is livin on a prayer“
  These came right after each other. Right at the beginning of student teaching. Somehow the Psalms and Bon Jovi both summed up my feeling: dependant and hopeful in the faithfulness of God.
• “is pondering false dichotomies“
  After a chapel message from Gunner about all of the things that we hold in false dichotomy, like serving at home or abroad. I came across these notes a few weeks ago and was convicted again.

FEBRUARY

• “hopes“
  A theme of my year: the constant reminder to hope. And not to hope in myself or in good things happening, but to hope in the sure anchor of my soul, the promises God makes and fulfills in His Son.
• “and days colored by the beauty of grace“
  One of the main things I remember about spring semester and student teaching: God was wooing my heart. It sounds a little funny, maybe. But over and over God sent small reminders of His beauty, and it often seemed that my heart was spilling over from seeing Him in such intimate ways. It could be as simple as a ray of light through a door, or as huge as a changed life. My heart was constantly filled with an awareness of the reality of God. And of His tender care for me and grace toward me.
• “is becoming more addicted to post-its by the day“
  Student teaching taught me the great value of Post-It notes. I used them for everything. I need to get back in that habit again…life is easier when everything is labelled.

MARCH

• “made art and metaphors tonight“
  Spring break found Caitlin and I escaping to Rachel’s for a while. It was exactly the refreshment we both needed, and Caitlin taught Rachel’s art class for her. The night before, we hung out at Jaclyn’s parents’ house and made examples. And it was lovely.
• “Tonight, there are people who are so happy that they have forgotten to worry about tomorrow.”
  When I have my own laptop and regular internet, there are two or three poetry sites I visit daily. Often my statuses are snippets of a poem that took my breath for a moment that day. This was one.
• “is not the girl she was at graduation…and is thankful for that.”
  A realization I came to upon reading an old journal. I was doing a lot of reminiscing and even some regretting at this time, but God continued to graciously show me His purposes even in my mistakes. And He gave me grace to move forward, rejoicing in the changes He has made in me.
• “bleeding pink.”
  In March, my room became the headquarters of the Waldock Revolution, formed in the wake of the announcement that Waldock would become a guys’ dorm in the fall of 2009. The most faithful Waldockians rallied to ensure that our demise would not come about quietly. This was our war cry.
• “if a man is only as good as his word, then i want to marry a man with a vocabulary like yours.”
  More poetry-of-the-day. One of those I wish that I had written.

APRIL

• “made it safely through the night at a cheap motel.”
  During spring break #2, Lydia and I drove to Seattle to visit Audrey and the three of us got a cheap motel with a big king bed. We had an amazing sister night with worship at SPU, a 24 hour diner, a Jon and Kate plus 8 marathon (pre-divorce), and some shopping thrown in.
• “You are more than on my side, you are the weapon on my side. Safety off.”
  Caitlin and I went to a Derrick Brown show sometime before spring break #1. He’s a favorite of mine because of his incredible talent for making the metaphors I always wished that I could. This is one.
• “needs a man 1) as swift as a coursing river, 2) with all the force of a great typhoon, 3) with all the strength of a raging fire, and 4) mysterious as the dark side of the moon.”
  Waldock had regular themed movie nights, where we came in costume to watch a movie and eat appropriate food. This came after Mulan night, during which we ate egg rolls and were interrupted by someone burning popcorn. We evacuated, kimonos and all.
• “i drank a thimble-full of fire…and i’m not ever going back…”
  The list is full of statuses like this…song lyrics that might be a little vague but are always a little fiery. The thimble-full of fire? A glimpse of the glory of the Lord. And my passion to pursue more of that flame kept growing deeper and stronger.

MAY

• “– the only rules from the 1915 rules for teachers that i haven’t broken: don’t get married during your term of contract and don’t smoke cigarettes.”
  Most of the early May statuses are something about goodbye or nostalgia or packing. It was really hitting me that the Master’s College chapter of my life was closing. There were “last-times” around every corner, and I walked through life a strange mixture of sad and excited. And very tired.
• “– my God gives beauty for ashes.”
  I had the sweet opportunity to stay with 5 girls the last week of student teaching who refreshed my soul by their transparent love for God and care for one another. Megan and I had many talks thinking through our pasts and dreaming for the future. And I remember telling her the Jim Elliot quote I pray a lot as I sacrifice to be a truer disciple: “What is to be done with the ashes?” And then I remembered the sweet promise in Isaiah: beauty for ashes. It held me.
• “and a favorite home tradition: late night toast. [ps. mariners and cavs. and tennant lake. and marley and me. pretty good night.]“
  Statuses when I’m at home are often full of the simple contentment of the routines and safety of being with my family. The few weeks in May were no exception.
• “she smiled in a big way, the way a girl like that smiles when the world is hers.”
  Dashboard Confessional lyrics summed up how I felt as I transitioned from student teaching to interning for the fourth year. Smiling–and that feeling of “the world is mine for the taking.” In a completely godly way, of course!

JUNE

• “is thankful for room revolution water fights, floor time, tomato soup at zio’s, dance parties with sarah and this crazy beautiful life.“
  A bit of the first week interning. Room Revolution was my class, the oldest kids. The water fights were instigated by my classroom assistant and focused on getting me soaked. Floor time was me teaching the life of Christ to the oldest girls…my favorite thing about get AHEAD. And Sarah and I found lots of ways to make life a little more interesting, like driving our waiter crazy with requests for bread and having dance parties when we should have been reading.
• “and oklahoma nights at the drive-in.”
  Three trucks, all the Blankenship kids, and quite a few interns. We played ultimate frisbee in the grass, cried through “Up,” ate tons of snacks, and enjoyed the Oklahoma nights where it was still cool enough to possibly want to hold a child on your lap throughout an entire movie.
• “is thinking about gangs and the gospel…”
  Caitlin and Sarah and I got “Bloods and Crips: Made in America” from Redbox one night. I still think about that movie a lot, and especially about how to reach gang members with the gospel. Because the only answer is changed hearts and lives through the power of God, as much as I might rack my brain for a more temporal solutions.
• “loves sundays.”
• “vbs. vbs is on my mind. and it’s exploded all over this church as well.”
• “is learning more and more every day that Christ is better than anything life can give you or death can take from you.”
  If you asked me to sum up in one sentence everything I learned this summer, or even these year, it might just come down to this quote from Brother Joe. Christ is better. I can’t give up anything here that I will regret losing once I see Him and know Him fully. And I want to live so that others will see this truth about Him in me and come to love Him this way too.