The Most Insightful Car Ride. Ever.

I woke up this morning with a contradictory thought in my head:

I think I’m most effective in my job when I don’t realize that I’m doing my job.

Let me back up and explain. Since our confirmation group moved up to high school this year, my small group co-leader and I decided to move up with them. Dawn and I both feel like these girls are family to us, and we’ve seen the Holy Spirit work so powerfully in our relationships that we made the committment to be their small group leaders for another four years–which, if you’re doing the math, adds up to six years total of hangin’ with the same girls.

Yep. We love ‘em.

So, this committment to our small group is what moved me into high school ministry on top of my actual job, which is middle school ministry. Basically, I’m now doing ministry to 5th through 12th graders–which is something I love, because I appreciate so many different things about these different age groups. This is what I was trained for, really–to do intergenerational, lifespan ministry.

Added bonus: free pizza is now practically a staple in my life.

Anyway, after our Refuel high school small groups last night, I had a few kids ask me for rides home. Oakville is a pretty small town (face it, folks, it is–don’t give me more of that “You’re from California, you don’t understand the Midwest” mumbo-jumbo as an excuse!), so I don’t mind dropping them off.

Oh, the things we do when we love kids...

However, when I climbed into my car stuffed to the brim with kids, I found myself unthinkingly doing ministry as I drove the various kids home. It was like suddenly their arms failed at carrying the weight of the world, and all their real thoughts and frustrations came tumbling out as we scissored across Oakville. I found myself listening and counseling, consoling and giving advice, and talking about God and the big picture of life as we drove.

As I dropped the last student off and sat talking to her in her driveway, listening to her tearfully pouring her feelings out, I realized suddenly that I was no longer talking. Instead, the Holy Spirit was prompting me to have insights and say things that she needed to hear. I have no other explanation for the eloquent and meaningful answers that came out of my sleep-deprived, utterly exhausted brain.

I drove home, pondering the fact that I thought my ministry was done when we wrapped up our small group time in prayer earlier that evening. I know that God is all around, and that there’s never a wrong time to talk about Him–but I guess I figured the kids would be their usual chaotic selves as I drove them home. I didn’t expect them to be so honest–to be transparent in their struggles–to be listening to each other and sharing their feelings so willingly in my car.

 I really think they wanted to go deeper, to talk more about their faith and their lives, for even longer than we gave them. And that made me realize that I, as a youth leader, need to pick up on that and give them opportunities to go deeper. Otherwise, I’m stunting them.

It reminded me of the first time I realized I loved talking about spirituality and faith. I was a junior in high school, and I was sitting in the sunlit library at my school, chatting with five other guys. I don’t remember the specifics of what we were talking about–I know it was Lutheran theology and prayer–but I remember the scene vividly.

I remember getting an overwhelming feeling of peace and contentedness. I remember looking around the room, tangibly realizing the many blessings God had given me. I remember looking at the faces of the guys I was debating with and thinking, “I could do this for the rest of my life.”

I remember walking away after over an hour, marveling at how much that one conversation about faith impacted my entire week. And now, looking back, I realized that this one conversation started me down a path that ended up with me becoming a Director of Christian Education–a position that allows me to share my faith all the time.

I think the reason I feel like I’m most effective in my job when I don’t realize that I’m doing it is because that’s when the Holy Spirit is flowing through me uninterrupted. That’s when my ego doesn’t get in the way. It’s in those moments that I’m not worried about saying the wrong thing, or overthinking things. God’s Words of comfort just flow naturally, and I don’t even need to analyze or think of what to say–it’s just there, at the tip of my tongue.

As a church worker, there are plenty of dangerous temptations out there. It’s so easy to overanalyze and doubt sharing God’s Truth–because sometimes it convicts, and drives people away. It’s easy to forget how insignificant you really are, as you’re standing up in front of hundreds of people and wielding a microphone in your hand. It’s easy to put yourself in front of God, and to hog the stage instead of letting Him be the focus.

I’ve met so many church workers who’ve fallen into these holes and wear their identities on their sleeves:

“I’m a martyr. I don’t get paid enough for what I do.”

“You can’t ever possibly understand what my job is or how hard I work.”

“Of course I can dabble in this–I have to be real, don’t I?”

“I need those kids to complete me.”

As it says in 1 Peter 4:11, “Whoever serves, let him do so as by the strength which God supplies.” What it really boils down to for me is this: God doesn’t need me; He simply works through me. And I suspect maybe the best way to let Him work through me is to just shove myself out of the way, as often as I can.

All of this from one night of driving kids home…pretty impressive, huh?

Who Thought that a Creepy Clown Note on My Computer Could Brighten My Monday?

Mondays.

Have you ever actually met someone who didn’t mind them?

Nope. Didn’t think so.

Mondays are so miserable, truthfully, that I usually dread going to bed on Sunday…just because I have to wake up and slog my way through a Monday.

And remember–I even enjoy my job. I can’t imagine how Mondays are for people who hate where they work.

However, I came into my office this morning and found my computer peppered with Post-it notes. Three of my youth had discovered my secret stash of pens and sticky notes the night before while at a youth event, and went to town on decorating my work space. It was pretty funny, actually, to come in and read them all this morning.

Here’s just a sampling of their randomness:

“Howdy Hey, Cassie A, Have a great Monday!”

“Got milk?”

“Howdy, partner!”

And, my personal favorite:

“Hey, just remember when you’re at work, I’m at SCHOOL.”

I also had a random doodle of a tree, a mouse, a concerned face with snot dripping out of an overly large nose, and three pictures of smiley faces with gigantic mustaches–among other inside jokes.

And, particularly disturbing was a picture of a clown with vampire teeth, stuck to the very middle of the screen.

Gulp. I hate clowns. And those kids know it. In fact, several have kindly offered to rent me a clown for my upcoming birthday. Which only makes me wish that I hadn’t opened my home to them–now they actually do know where I live.

Oh, the sheer and utter insanity of youth ministry. Every day, I tackle all sorts of weird jokes on Facebook, answer random silly and sometimes nonsensical texts from dozens of kids, and meet new teenagers who expect me to remember their faces, names, and random facts about themselves–even if it was just a fleeting encounter I had with them.

It’s hard to describe, but things like this must give you a little glimpse into my daily life, right?

Because–because….sometimes it’s even too indescribable for me.

Fine, too deep. It’s still Monday, after all. Mind-numbing shallowness is in order.

All things told, those rascals did make my Monday a little brighter.

Now, maybe if I can just cajole them to do this for me every week, I’ll actually start to look forward to Mondays…

Revelations from A Smilin’ Dog

I just had a revelation while talking to Bonzer.

And just so everyone’s clear, Bonzer is my toy Australian shepherd puppy.

Fine. Call me crazy.

(Cat lovers, zip it. You have no room to judge. You guys are even weirder with your furry, hairball-gagging friends. At least my dogs fetch and sit on command, which is more than I can say for those of you who prefer aloof pets.)

I was sitting with Bonzer, watching him rolling around and playing on the floor. I called his name in my “happy” tone of voice (that same tone of voice which I use when I talk to babies, incidentally–they’re a lot like puppies, right?). He immediately trotted over and started furiously wagging his little stump of a tail with a smile on his face.

Yes, he smiles.

Chalk up another mark on the crazy board, I know.

Anyway, Bonzer just stood there, looking at me. Every time I said something to him, like, “Ohhhhh, you’re such a good pup, aren’t you buddy?”, he would wiggle his whole rear end in excitement.

Who knew that Bonzer could inspire me with such insight

I could’ve said, “Hey stupid, I’m going to throw you off the porch after I feed you your delicious dinner of dry kibble, ok?” in a sweet tone of voice, and he still would’ve responded with pleasure.

Something as simple as praising my dog totally made his day.

And I didn’t get tired of watching him wiggle his little tail and jump up in happiness once. I could praise him all night and still enjoy watching him dance around.

Isn’t it funny how we don’t really apply that same principle to humans?

Something as simple as complimenting someone else could totally make their day–it could make them wiggle their rear ends with excitement.

Ok. Maybe that’s not exactly the image I’m looking for?

Perhaps it’s because I work with pre-teens and teenagers who are often stuck in stages of self-doubt and low self-esteem, and I’m extra-sensitive to it–but I feel like sometimes I walk around and want to say something positive to every single person I see. Frankly, I think every single person does need to hear something good about themselves on a daily basis.

I guess I’ve just realized that we live in a world that just wants to tear us down. Everything around us–television, magazines, Internet ads, billboards–tells us that we’re not beautiful enough, strong enough, smart enough, fashionable enough, capable enough, or savvy enough.

And maybe being the hands and feet of Christ in this world means we try to counteract the demoralization of our culture and instead bring a little joy into the lives of those around us.

Maybe we need to try to make others wiggle their stumpy tails, so to speak.

Maybe one of the best ways we can truly impact the lives of those around us and share the love of Christ is to simply point out the things we love or admire about them. To speak those words of praise about the special traits that make them unique–and in doing so, give glory to the magnificently creative God who made them that way.

Hm.

Look at the life lessons you can learn from a cheerful dog…it’s astounding.

You sure as heck wouldn’t get anything like this from a cat, would you now?

Finding Contentment On Returning Home From Vacation (And NO, I’m NOT Lying!)

I was on vacation for the last week.

I know. Shocker, right?

To be clear, I don’t sleep under my desk–as some of my co-workers and more than a few of my youth have asked me. Sometimes I actually go home and get away…and on the rare occasion, I sneak away to have fun.

Like last week, when I traveled to Florida to celebrate the wedding of two of my closest friends.

It was a blissful trip, a beautiful wedding, and I had a great time catching up with old friends at my husband’s home church, St. Luke’s in Oviedo–a place that has become my “second-home” church. I worked on staff there as a Director of Christian Education intern for a summer a few years ago, and have been blessed to have incredible friends and mentors there ever since. It’s an amazing place.

In a way, it was strange to be back there–almost like a parallel universe. Stepping into the church and seeing old youth and co-leaders was like dropping right back into the middle of a whole different realm of my ministry–one that’s still active, but that I’m not as close to, now that I live in St. Louis and work at a different church.

Hm.

What am I trying to say, anyway? I have no idea. Just noting my observations about ministry, I guess.

I think I just never realized that moving away from a place doesn’t kill the impact you’ve made there, or force those connections you’ve made with youth and families to die completely. The Holy Spirit is alive and active, and working even in your absence.

And, really, the impact has little to do with me, anyway. It’s simply God working through me.

As Robert Louis Stevenson once said, “Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.”

Working with people is never easy, no matter what career you have. Ol’ Stevenson really hits the nail on the head for me with that phrase, because it’s what I have to remind myself every day: I’m just planting God’s seeds. That’s it. I can’t expect to see the results all the time.

(Confession time: I have that quote taped to my computer right now. It’s staring me down with beady little eyes of truth, 24/7.)

Trust me, working with young youth means I rarely see the harvest.

However, on vacation this last week, I realized how truly happy I am as a youth worker. It’s a long story for a whole different blog post as to how I ended up working as a middle school ministry coordinator–and working in the church at all, for that matter–but it’s something I wrestled with for a long time.

But, being on vacation and receiving a steady stream of texts from kids and parents–getting the long phone calls as soon as I got back, with my kids squealing about their latest crushes and complaints about tryouts–that’s my calling.

I’m called to work with people, to care for them despite their zany quirks and frustrations, and to let them know that God loves them. And that no matter what, nothing can separate them from that unalterable, unending love.

Oh, I love my job.

I’m not saying that in the hopes that my bosses will read this someday and give me a raise, or that someone will pat me on the back. I’m saying it simply because it’s true, and my eyes were opened on this trip to how much I have loved my job for the last several years–even before I arrived at Faith and started my ministry here.

I guess that’s how I know it’s truly a calling, in a way.

God is sure good to me. The fact that He guided me through some hurricane seasons of my life into a career that I’m passionate about and love so dearly is proof of His incredible love for me, I believe.

That being said, I guess I can’t really complain about those early morning, pre-school texts I’ve been receiving from my little squirts lately–because, after all, I’m doing what I truly love.

And I’m perfectly content with that.