Little Rock '09

I'm currently surrounded by about one hundred full-time, part-time, and volunteer CEF workers. They have descended for two weeks on the city for the summer outreach that is Little Rock '09. CEF is targeting key cities across the United States every summer from here until, well, until every major city has on-going ministry to their children. Last year they ministered in Chicago and left behind a full-time worker named Kathy. This year is Little Rock and they are leaving me behind to continue the work.

There is something so sweet about being surround by like-minded people, and humbling as well. Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit several club sites and meet people from the churches I'll be working with in the fall. I am already in love with the people of Little Rock. Sunday I spent most of the day with representatives from two major African-American churches in Little Rock and I just loved them. Little Rock is surprisingly urban. In fact, there was a debate (still on-going) as to whether I should be allowed to travel by myself to club sites because I am a "white girl in gangland". I voted yes, but male leadership voted no. We'll see.

This week we have upwards of twenty-fve teams each teaching three 5-day Clubs a day. Yesterday we had over one thousand children attend clubs with fifty salvations. There are some hurting kids in Little Rock. Please keep us in your prayers, and thanks to everyone who prayed (and is praying) that I'll survive this time, now and throughout the year. By God's grace, I think I'm going to make it.

Drive by

Last week I supervised a few summer missionaries teaching a 5-day Club on a street called Cates in North St. Louis. I loved this club and particularly the neighborhood where the club was held. Today I learned there was a drive by shooting a few yards from where the club was held. Wow! I am so thankful that the gospel was preached there. So very, very thankful.

Little Boys

My little brother Joel turns sixteen today. I can hardly believe it. I still remember him as a little bitty guy with a head full of blond curls and a mischievous grin on his pink-cheeked face. At night he would follow me around the house in his little footy pajamas until I gave him his bedtime "baba" (bottle). His giggle of delight made me giggle.

Now his voice is too deep to giggle and he doesn't follow me around the house anymore but just opens the refrigerator door and drinks milk straight from the carton. When I stand next to my teenage brothers and their friends I feel dwarfed. Things have turned around and I miss my younger siblings as babies. Most of my teenage years were spent with one or the other of them on my hip. Now they are teenagers themselves and a lot of the fun of care giving is over and done. I made chocolate chip cookies last night and this morning I found my brothers and their friend standing around the plate rapidly inhaling them, passing the jug of milk back and forth to fill their glasses (at least some semblance of civility, right?). It gave me a deep kind of pleasure.

Yesterday afternoon while talking with a little boy named Jamel at a 5-day Club in the city, I had the distinct joy of seeing his beautiful face break into a wide grin: I had just told him how glad I was to see him. He then recited his memory verse to me with a look for supreme concentration before joining the other boys for a game. As club started I observed the neighborhood. Men who use to be little boys walked by and stared. I sat and wondered what kind of little boys they had been, and then wondered what kind of men they had turned into. Did they love Jesus? Judging by their behavior, probably not. What a waste. Is this what Jamel has to look forward to?

I feel a deep burden for the boys in my clubs and my church and my family. I want them to grow up loving Jesus with all their hearts. So many, many men do not. But then again, I know a few men - good and godly men - who do. I am thankful for the men who take seriously the difficult task of loving Jesus with all their heart. It gives me hope to keep on praying and loving and baking chocolate chip cookies for all the men in my life who are still on the way.

Missionary Life

I am feeling very stressed out today. I hold in my hand twenty-four ounces of pure caffeine with massive amounts of sugar thrown in for good measure. Yes, this was an ill-advised decision, but the only one that made sense as I drove to my recently vacated townhouse this morning in order to beg the next-door neighbor to sign for a very important package the UPS man has already attempted to deliver twice. Thankfully she agreed, although now she's probably a little scared of me. Good thing I don't live here anymore! Now if I can just get people to stop sending me stuff here...

I'm supposed to be having a day off. This is truly laughable as I have been even busier today than I would normally be in the office. I need to do a six hour Bible study on support raising in the next hour and a half (I wonder if this is feasible?) before I pick up my little brother from aforementioned office and travel to Illinois to teach a 5-day Club in the home of a truly delightful elderly lady. She wanted to give them a special treat for the last day of club today and so she invited a puppet troupe from her church to entertain the kids after club. I hate puppets, but I love her, and so I will endure them, although I will be laughing in my heart (and possibly out loud, as well).

Yesterday I suffered through the indignities of watching one of the children in the club take off his sandal, hold his foot against his face and take a big long sniff before replacing his sandal, waiting a minute...and then doing it again! All this while I was teaching the Bible lesson. It was almost unbearable for me to watch. I kept praying: "Lord Jesus! Help me! Now!". After club I sat in my car alternately laughing and groaning. Oh, the life of a missionary!

Well, that's all for now. Please pray for me. Most of all pray that I won't offend the puppet troupe, and that the delightful little foot-sniffing boy will keep his shoes on today. I don't know if my fragile mental state can bear a repeat performance.

Odds and Ends

Our garden is growing! I feel guilty that I haven't been over to Edwardsville to check on it since we first planted it some weeks ago. It seems that Karen is doing a good job caring for it though. Every time I see Aaron he asks me "how's the garden doing" as if I live right down the street from Karen instead of from him. It's a bit annoying, actually. So, Aaron, now you know how the garden is doing. As far as I know though, we are still gnome-less.

In other news, I'm almost done setting up the last 5-day Clubs for the summer. I'm just waiting to hear back from Nathan at the YMCA. I wish he would hurry up. I can't wait to post all seven full weeks of clubs on the wall of my cubicle, pump my arm in victory, and immediately receive a phone call from a club hostess saying that she has to cancel due to an unforeseen emergency. Ah, the unpredictability of summer ministry.

I am currently contemplating summer travel plans. I sort of want to head south and scope out Little Rock before I become a resident of that fine city, and I keep meaning to visit Adrienne, located somewhere deep in the heart of Texas, and witness her marital bliss firsthand, but have yet to actually do it. I also made tenative plans to go to Chicago with Karen and visit all the museums there. Joanna, Amanda, and I were planning a trip there (are planning a trip there?) this summer but I know they won't go to the museums with me. I know this because when I asked Joanna about it she made a rude noise which, when translated means, "yeah, right".

Today at work one of my co-workers was singing a song about Helen Keller and her hips (your guess is as good as mine) and my other co-worker Joe (love him!) said "get away from me, Helen Keller, you're grossing me out!" I couldn't stop laughing. There was just something about a soon-to-be journalist saying the phrase "you're grossing me out" that struck me as highly hilarious. Maybe you had to be there, or maybe you have to know Joe, or maybe you have to work with a bazillion crazy kids all day to get the hilarity of this moment. It were funny (grammatical error intended).

I think that's all the news to be had around here. I keep meaning to brew a cup of Irish Breakfast tea and finally, finally, sit down and finish reading the Lewis book. It still hasn't happened. The box of tea sits forlornly in the cupboard, unopened, and the book stares up at my from my bedside table every time I enter the room. It is angry about being neglected for so long. Sometimes I pick it up and carry it downstairs, meaning to crack open its pages and read, but something inevitably distracts me. This only serves to fuel its anger. I expect a mutiny pretty soon; Lewis will not be ignored forever.

Time for bed. I know this because I'm giving inanimate objects personalities. Again.

Goodnight!