Planting Seeds

When we moved into our neighborhood 5 years ago we did so with a vision of engaging our community and loving our neighbors.  We spent hours and days brainstorming ways to connect with those that lived around us.

In my dreams, deep relationships would be formed, long conversations would be had, life would be spent doing together as the days turned into months turned into years.

We knew it would take time.  We knew it might be a steep learning curve.  But we dove in all the same.

5 years later we've learned a lot.  I can tell you what doesn't seem to work more than what does.   I have far more questions now than when we started.  I've felt discouraged, burnt out, and cynical.

And then last year happened.  To say it in the most simple, concise way, last year was hard...hard on so many levels.  It was a year of holding on for dear life and being forced to trust like never before.  It was a year of wrestling, of questioning, of processing, of clinging and then of letting go.  It was a year of darkness and surviving.

But in that darkness and in that drive to survive, it became a year of growing and learning and changing.  Last year forced us to daily cling to our mantra of faithfulness and obedience.

This year we're still seeking to live faithfully and obediently despite our questions, despite the unknown, despite what we thought might be.  Kids Club is one way of doing this.

Every year we've lived in our neighborhood we've done Kids Club.  Every year except last year...it just didn't happen.  But this year the kids were begging and we knew it was time to start it back up.

And so, once again I trekked out to the bus stop and handed out flyers.  You could hear the whispers, "Kids Club?"  "Are you going?"  "Thursday nights?  I think I can come!"

As we prepared for our kick off night, my heart was in a new place.  I saw these kiddos through different eyes.  I knew what we were doing, as simple as it is, was right.  How can you go wrong loving on kiddos?  How can you fail when you're sharing the love of Jesus?  How can you question speaking truth and life into young, sponge-like hearts?

But the kids aren't the only ones being ministered to.  Before week one even happened, three of our "older" neighborhood girls showed up at our front door.  With their shy smiles, and their accented words they wanted to know if they could still come to Kids Club.  We've always posted an age range of 4-12 (really assuming anyone over the age of 12 would not be interested in coming).  But these girls had been with us from the beginning and they weren't ready to be done.

I told them they were too old to come to Kids Club, but that they weren't too old to help.  The vision was coming to me as I was speaking.  What might it look like to allow Kids Club to grow with our kids?  What better way to continue learning than to help teach?

A deal was quickly made.

If these girls would agree to show up at my house on Tuesday afternoons, I would tell them what that week's lesson was about.  Together we would then come up with a craft or activity for the kids to do following the story, and the girls would be responsible for leading whatever we came up with.

I'll be honest in saying I figured the girls would forget to come, and that was ok.  I figured they would still show up on Thursday for club and that would, of course, be ok also.  But low and behold, my doorbell rang that first week and there they were!  I had totally forgotten, but they had not!  Last week they "led" their first activity.

Again, this week my doorbell rang.  Again, I had forgotten!  Luckily I was home, though, and we talked through our second lesson, coming up with a craft idea.  Tonight we'll once again let them "lead".

Is it a surprise, really, that I'm being ministered to just as much as I'm doing the ministering?  Isn't that usually the case, especially when it comes to children?  Watching these neighborhood kids never ceases to teach me, to challenge me and to encourage me.

The homes they come from are all different, some more broken than others.  But they're kids, and all kids long to feel loved, long to feel a part of things, long to be known.  My hope is that even if for one hour a week we can speak this into each one of them, we can share with them hope, we can tell them about Someone who not only created them but loves them unconditionally and offers them life, then maybe they will learn to walk in these truths and even end up sharing them with someone else.

As much as it feels right to us, it doesn't necessarily to everyone else.  Each week I look across the street to see a little boy and his sister sitting on the step watching from afar.  They've asked their dad if they can come, but the answer has been "no".  My heart hurts as I see them looking over longingly.  I will not stop praying that one day they'll be able to join us.

We always hope that our intentions to love well are received over the misconception of having some kind of agenda.  We pray regularly that we might find favor in the eyes of those that live around us.  We strongly believe in this way of life and are learning to find joy in it, despite the disappointments  and frustrations.

My prayer is that the seeds that are planted on this street might someday grow, flourish and produce much fruit.  What I wouldn't give to know the ending to this part of our story.

To My Girls -- What a blessing it has been to watch you minister with Daddy and I through Kids Club.  Each of you bring your own gifts and personalities to the table.  I love to see you running out to gather kids up, or sitting with the little ones on your lap during the story. It blesses me as you volunteer to answer the questions, or help around the craft table.  Your warmth and graciousness reminds me of how I want to be.  Thank you for working with us.  Thank you for being generous.  Thank you for loving well.